Disclaimer: JKR owns everything worthwhile, like Draco, Ginny, Hogwarts,
etc. The plot and Medic Timmons are mine.
A/N: sorry, this chapter is very choppy, it doesn't flow smoothly and I hope you'll forgive me and continue to read. I had to cram a lot of information into one chapter, to give some insight into Draco's actions. Thanks to everyone still reading. And a special thanks to everyone who reads, reviews and logs in! I love reading your stories!!! K
Chapter 5
Some months earlier, life had been going along just fine for Draco Malfoy. On the Hogwarts Express, he'd successfully terrorized several first years. He and his cohorts had bullied some silly Hufflepuff females out of their compartment. He'd even had a run in with Potty, the Weasel and the Mudblood. Things were as they should be and all was right with the world. Then he'd left the compartment to run to the bathroom. And run into her.
Draco had opened the compartment door, stepped out and collided with another student. A female student. A short, attractive female student with bright, fiery red curls.
"My god," Draco sneered, his lip curled as usual. "Don't you weasels ever look where you're going? You've wrinkled my robe! AND I'll have to burn it! But, that's all right." He smirked as he eyed her slightly worn robe. "I have hundreds."
It was a good insult. It conveyed that he was now polluted because they'd touched, and rubbed her nose in her poverty. He waited for the anger, the indignation, or the tears that would naturally follow. Then something bizarre happened. The girl looked up at him, but as though she didn't really see him. As though she had accidentally collided with a door or a wall. She looked right through him! Draco had the uncanny feeling that he wasn't even there. He almost pinched himself to make sure he was! Then, without even flinching, she walked right past him!
Draco was so surprised that he just let her walk away. For the remainder of the ride to Hogwarts, he kept replaying the incident in his mind, trying to figure out how she had so completely ignored him. It galled him that someone he thought of as inferior had brushed him off so effortlessly and completely.
By the time he reached Slytherin after the welcome feast, Draco had decided that the little Weasley girl would never get away with that again.
By the second month of the new school year, however, Draco was in an almost constant state of rage. Not only was the little weasel still acting as though he didn't exist, she was in one of his classes. And doing better than he was! It was maddening! It was infuriating! And, Draco told himself daily, it was unacceptable. He sneered at her and she ignored him. He insulted her, her family, her looks, her skills, and she acted as though she hadn't even heard him. Even a flea or a mosquito would have gotten more response out of her!
In fact, the only time the little weasel ever seemed to really see him was when he was playing Quidditch! Then her sharp, observant eyes seemed to see his every move! They seemed to detect every little mistake he or a teammate made. His team hadn't even played Gryffindor, yet, but he'd felt her eyes on him. Oh, he knew she wasn't watching him with anything like admiration. She was spying for her own team. She was looking for any weaknesses, any chinks in the Slytherin defense she could exploit for their match. He'd tried the same thing when Gryffindor played against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. He'd tried to throw off her game, glaring at her throughout the games, but again, she hadn't seemed aware of him.
Things continued unchanged for a few more weeks. The Christmas holidays were coming up and Draco was returning home for the break. He wasn't really looking forward to it as it meant an endless round of visiting with his father's friends, mostly Deatheaters and political climbers. His father had hinted that the dark lord might even visit them! Draco shuddered at this. Voldemort might be powerful and awesome, but he was a repellant figure, as well. Draco remembered the only other time he'd met Voldemort. The man, or creature or whatever he was had even touched Draco's head, ruffling his fine, silky hair. Draco had loathed the gesture as well as the touch. And he'd felt there was something just not right with the dark wizard. Something about him didn't ring true. But his father supported him, and Draco agreed that the Muggle and Mudblood influence on the wizarding community needed to be stopped.
There were only a few days left until the holiday break and Draco was finding the little weasel's attitude intolerable. He decided that he would get her attention, force her to acknowledge him before he left. That would give her two weeks to make herself sick with worry about what he would do when he got back. Oh, he wouldn't really hurt her badly; just shake her up a bit. It was a good idea, he thought. And because of it, his life would never be the same.
On Thursday morning before the holidays, Draco had been trying to think of a way to get at the little weasel. The only time he ever saw her without that tall, black friend of hers or her brother and his friends was at the Magical Healing class. But, as the next Slytherin class was in the opposite direction from the weasel's, he would have to force the issue. He decided he would follow her toward her next class until they were well away from everyone else. Glancing at Crabbe and Goyle, who were walking with him to breakfast, Draco decided he'd better not tell them. They would want to come along and help. Draco didn't plan to do anything to be expelled over; he just wanted to scare the little weasel a bit. If these two oafs came, things might get out of hand.
As they entered the Great Hall, Draco found himself looking for her. He finally spotted her, sitting with her back to him, halfway down the Gryffindor table. As he waited for the food to appear, he bent his entire attention on a point in the center of her back. He'd been trying to force her to sense him for several weeks, but so far, nothing had happened. He'd used this talent before, when trying to intimidate others, and it had been successful. But she still never noticed a thing. Draco tried to tell himself that she was just too stupid to sense the danger to herself, but he knew she was anything but stupid. He could not consider, let alone admit, that her will might be stronger than he'd suspected. Because if he considered that, he might have to consider that he might be wrong about other things.
Draco continued to stare at her, concentrating hard. He was just about to give up, when she suddenly straightened. He saw her tighten her shoulders, as though trying to ease an ache, then turn her head slightly from side to side. He felt elated! He'd done it! She was just turning around to look his way when the food appeared and broke his concentration. As he watched, she shook her head slightly, confused, then returned to her conversation with her friend.
Draco smiled as he ate his breakfast. It was finally working! A few more seconds and she would have looked at him. She would have known that he had the power to affect her without even touching her! And soon, in just a few hours, she would know that he had even more power over her. He decided that it was going to be a great day!
The first two classes were the usual boring stuff. The History of Magic professor kept rambling on about the defeat of the 'evil' wizard Grindelwald, praising that old fool Dumbledore. Draco rolled his eyes. According to his father, Grindelwald had tried to do what Voldemort was doing. He'd tried to weed out the chaff, stamp out the rising tide of Mudbloods infecting the wizarding community. He'd tried to keep the blood pure, as it should be!
And Voldemort was trying to do the same thing! If his methods were extreme, well, there were lots of bleeding heart Muggle lovers out there that had to be taken care of. Like the Weasleys! They were a pureblooded wizarding family, but did they appreciate what an honor that was? No! They rubbed elbows with Mudbloods like that Granger bitch. Their father worked with Muggle objects, trying to protect the stupid Muggles from bewitched artifacts. Draco had even heard that one of the brothers was dating a Muggle! It was an outrage!
He thought of the little weasel again, glancing at the clock to see that class would be out in a few minutes. He couldn't wait!
As he hurried up to Magical Healing, Draco was planning what he would say to the girl. She wasn't anywhere in the corridor, so he opened the door and looked in. Damn! She was already in her seat. That was fine, Draco thought. He would still get her after class.
The class was plodding along, the clock on the wall hardly seeming to move. Then the instructor pulled out a different textbook. It was the text they were to begin on the following term. But the stupid git actually expected them to be looking through it now?
"Miss Weasley, I'm sure I saw you leafing through this book in the library, just last week?" the medic asked the little weasel. Even from behind, Draco could see the red flush rising up her neck.
"I suppose, uh, that, uh I might have glanced through it, sir." The girl sounded like an idiot! Before he could stop himself, Draco made a quiet comment.
"She supposes she might have looked. Of course, being a stupid little weasel, she wouldn't be sure about it."
Pansy and Blaise, seated on either side of Draco, both sniggered, Pansy's hissing laugh sounding like a snake having fits. But the little weasel didn't do anything. She didn't even clench her fists. She had to have heard. He was about to add another comment about being stupid and deaf, when the medic rounded on him.
"My, my, you certainly have a lot to say, Mr. Malfoy." Draco could not believe the man was singling him out. Didn't he know who he was dealing with? Draco barely heard the rest, other than the medic telling him he would not allow students to carry out personal feuds in his class. And it was all Weasley's fault! She had goaded him into this! And she would pay!
The medic was still babbling, something about a quiz. Five points for each correct answer. Draco sat up and started concentrating. He'd be damned before he let the stupid little bitch get even one question correct. Besides, there were eight Slytherins and only one little Gryff.
The first question was pretty easy. He was surprised none of the other Slytherins had raised their hands. He was even more surprised the little weasel hadn't tried.
"Even a sixth year should have known that," he'd smirked quietly.
The next question came and Weasley answered it quickly. He was surprised and angry, but he could allow her one answer. She answered the next and the next. Finally, when the class was almost over, Weasley had answered sixteen of the questions on her own. Draco was livid. Not only had she made the Slytherins look like fools, but none of the other Slytherins had answered a single question! They'd left it to him to do it all! And now they were looking at him as though Weasley's stomping them were his fault! Damn them all, anyway. And especially damn Weasley.
The medic dismissed the class but asked Weasley to stay. Draco realized in an instant that this was his chance. He hurried from the room, telling Crabbe and Goyle he would meet them later. Then he found a dead-end corridor and waited. His insides were still in knots over the debacle in class. He couldn't let her get away with humiliating him like that! Suddenly Draco froze. She was coming! He carefully set his book bag aside and crept to the dark opening.
Weasley was in a hurry. Doesn't want to be late for her next class, he sneered to himself. But she would be very late if he had anything to do with it! Then he saw her, curls bouncing, robe swishing as she hurried by. He reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her into the passageway.
Draco threw her against the wall and pinned her there with his arm. She gasped when she struck the wall, but didn't make any other sound. Draco pulled her wrist up behind her back, waiting for some sound, some movement from her. He wanted her to fight, to cry out. Instead, she was silent. He leaned forward and hissed in her ear.
"Think you're soooo smart, do you, Weasley? You made me look a fool. Now, I'm going to make you very sorry you were born."
Draco studied what little he could see of her face. She looked calm, as though she hadn't a care in the world! He still waited. Surely she would cry out, or ask him to stop. But she remained silent.
"Nothing to say, Weasley?" Draco's anger exploded. She was still ignoring him! He twisted her wrist up higher, certain she would now scream. "You had plenty to say in class, though, didn't you? You would have done better to keep your mouth shut, little weasel. But now you can get as loud as you want. No one will hear you! And maybe," despite himself, he dropped his voice almost into a plea, "if you beg enough, I won't hurt you too much!"
Then, finally, she spoke. "Coward!" she hissed at him. The one word held a wealth of contempt, but no fear. He pressed harder against her arm, asking incredulously, "What did you just call me?"
"You're-A-Coward-Draco-Malfoy!" she said. Slowly, carefully, to make sure he caught every word! This was too much! He yanked her around and grabbed her throat. He would strangle her! No one spoke to him that way! He tightened his grip, waiting for her to finally react. Instead, she pulled at his hands and continued to berate him.
"Must be proud, Malfoy! So brave and strong! Beating up a girl half your size!"
"Bitch!" he said as her words hit him. He raised his hand, but in that second he realized she was right. He looked down at Weasley's bruised, cut face and saw that he was acting like a coward, trying to beat a girl who could never match his strength. And for what? Because she wouldn't look at him? Because she wouldn't be afraid of him? He felt his anger ebbing away and was loosening his grip on her throat when she finally struck back.
Pain exploded in his groin! It wrenched at his stomach, spread through his body and finally slammed into his brain. He dropped to the floor, only able to cup his hand protectively over himself and fight not to throw up. He never knew there was so much pain in the world. Not even the beatings his father had given him as a boy had hurt like this! And it was the little weasel that had done it!
He heard Weasley choking and coughing, fighting to get air. Even through the pain he realized how close he'd been to really hurting her. No wonder she'd retaliated! Gods! What was he thinking? He opened his eyes and saw her trying to pick up her bag. She reached out carefully, but had to move closer to him. He reached out and grabbed her ankle, trying to get her closer, trying to tell her it had gotten out of hand. But she panicked! She sat and kicked at him, hard!
Draco heard the snap as both bones in his lower arm broke. This time the pain almost overwhelmed him. He yanked his arm back and tried to ease the pain. He felt the darkness stealing over him and he glared at Weasley, who had caused it all. She was scrambling away from him, the fear he had sought now written plainly on her face. Then it was gone. She looked almost - guilty! But that couldn't be. It was a trick to allay his anger, he thought. When her eyes met his he gritted out, "Not over yet, Weasley!" Then Draco lost consciousness.
The pain in his groin had settled into a dull throb when Draco finally came to. The wrist, however, screeched in pain when he moved it. Clumsily fumbling for his wand with his right hand, Draco pulled it from his robe pocket. Then he looked dumbly at it and let it drop to the floor. How did one mend a broken wrist? Especially when it was attached to the hand he used to cast spells. The spells for bones seemed to have flown out of his head. He scowled as he realized that Weasley would probably be able to handle this within minutes. He sat back and tried to remember the right spells, but could only replay what had happened with Weasley.
He ought to be whipped for losing his temper so thoroughly. By now she was probably in Dumbledore's office arranging his immediate expulsion. Draco wondered if he blamed her. He hadn't meant to beat her; he hadn't even meant to really hurt her. He'd just wanted to scare her, to force her to acknowledge him. But she had certainly surprised him. He was going to stop himself anyway, but she had stopped him very effectively. He knew he was much stronger than she was, but she had nearly crippled him with pain. He hadn't even been able to speak more than a few words, then he'd blacked out.
Draco leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The throbbing in his arm was still horrible, but he ignored it. He wasn't a stranger to pain; he just had not expected to experience it from this quarter. He was in two minds about the little weasel now. Part of him wanted to make her pay for causing him this pain. If he let her get away with it, she might think she had beaten him. But the other part of him grudgingly admired the slight girl who had finally stood up to him. It had taken him nearly strangling her, but she'd done it.
The last thing in the world Draco wanted to do was to admire Virginia Weasley. She was his enemy. She treated him like he was invisible. She was a Muggle lover and friends with Mudbloods. But she was also smart, brave and damned strong! Draco decided the pain was finally getting to him, that he wasn't thinking straight. He shook his head and grimaced at the pain in his wrist. That should be his first consideration. He would heal himself, set up an alibi, then decide what to do with the little weasel.
Draco awkwardly lifted the wand with his right hand and thought hard. The words to bone mending spells finally came back to him. He murmured a spell and clumsily tapped his left wrist. Nothing happened. With a curse, he repositioned the wand. He tried again, but, again, nothing happened. Finally, several spells later, he got the right one. He could feel the bones knitting together. It was almost as painful as the original injury, and Draco cursed Weasley again and again.
Over an hour later, Draco's wrist had healed enough to be relatively pain free. He carefully stood, wincing at the continued ache in his groin. He wouldn't try to fix anything there. The worst of the pain had passed and he figured he could live with what was left. He picked up his book bag, returned his wand to his pocket and set out for the hospital wing. He would complain of an upset stomach, get a pass from Madame Pomfrey to clear him from his missed class, then go to lunch. He could wait until after classes to decide what to do with Weasley. Meanwhile, he had to act as though nothing had happened.
That evening, in the Slytherin Common Room, Draco was waylaid by Crabbe and Goyle. He had missed his fourth period class and they knew he hadn't been in the hospital wing the entire time.
"Come on, Malfoy," Crabbe said. "You looked ready to spit nails after Healing. What happened? Why didn't you show up to Transfiguration?"
Draco looked at the two young men who were the closest things to friends he had. He didn't trust them. He knew they reported everything that happened to their fathers, and didn't relish the thought of them reporting his little confrontation with Weasley. Not only would it make him look more foolish than the quiz earlier had, but some strange impulse told him not to bring his near-obsession with the girl to their attention. He tried to put them off, but they were more persistent than usual. Finally, to get them off his back, he gave them an abbreviated account of his contretemps with her. He didn't give all the details, but enough to have them rolling on the floor, laughing.
Giving them a sour look, Draco declared that he was going to dinner and if they wished to waste their time laughing like idiots, that was their prerogative. They finally stifled their laughter and joined him.
Draco immediately spotted Weasley at the Gryffindor table. She was seated facing toward him, but she was staring down at the table. This was good! She must be afraid to look at him. As he watched, though, he noticed that she started chatting with her friends, at ease, as though nothing unusual had happened. When the food arrived, she ate with as much appetite as usual! She was doing it again! Any admiration Draco had felt was instantly wiped away. The insufferable bitch didn't even care that he'd nearly killed her. She had healed herself and was now telling him by her actions that he wasn't worth worrying about! He glared at her, wanting to walk over and slap the fork from her hand. He wanted to pull her out of her seat and drag her from the Great Hall. And then - then he would - he stopped. She froze, then looked around, panicked. Her eyes flew to his and widened. She HAD felt his look!
Draco smiled. This was what he'd wanted. He had wanted her to know that he was someone to be reckoned with, and now she knew. Her eyes were still wide and frightened and Draco smiled more broadly. Then he frowned. Her gaze had just gone vacant. She was looking at him still, but she no longer saw him. She had somehow slipped away from him again! How did she do that? He focused on her again, trying to pull her back from where ever she'd escaped to, when her friend nudged her, causing her to break eye contact with him. She shook her head slightly, then gave her friend a small smile, blushing.
It was maddening! He'd had her full attention for less than ten seconds. Draco felt the rage welling up again, but this time he stifled it as he studied the tiny girl who'd caused it. She and her friend stood, her friend looking very serious, but Weasley only looking distracted. What was it about her that made him so insane, anyway? Why was he wasting all this energy on her? He didn't know and didn't want to know. He wasn't used to questioning his own motives. As he watched Weasley and her friend leave the Great Hall, he decided he would have to just let things be for now. If he continued as he was going, he was going to get himself expelled, or worse.
Draco had convinced himself that he should leave Weasley alone for now, but all his arguments flew right out of his head the moment he set eyes on her the next morning. Crabbe and Goyle had noticed his distraction with the redhead last night. Now they were trying to get more details from him, but he was trying to ignore them. Then she came hurrying down the hallway toward them. Draco saw her first, and felt his insides tighten as her eyes slid right over him, settling on Crabbe instead. Then, unbelievably, Crabbe stepped in front of him, blocking his way and letting the little weasel slip into the classroom.
"What the hell are you doing?" Draco demanded in a whisper, trying to shove past Crabbe.
"We don't know what's going on between you and Weasley, but me and Goyle have plans for her already!" Crabbe hissed back.
Draco looked at him in surprise, but then curled his lip in his usual smirk.
"Plans? What kind of plans could you two idiots have for a girl like her? You think she'd look twice at either of you?" Draco was about to push away when he saw the dark, crafty look pass from Crabbe to Goyle. Goyle had taken something from his pocket and was running it through his hand caressingly. It was a long, green hair ribbon.
"She don't need to look at us for what we want," Goyle said with a harsh chuckle. "We just use a controlling spell with this little bit of ribbon, and she'll be our ticket!"
Draco realized the hair ribbon must be one of Weasley's. These two were planning on using it in some spell to gain power over her, then they would probably kidnap her when they were ready! She was to be their sacrifice to become Deatheaters!
"You two? Deatheaters?" He lowered his voice even more, disbelief warring with contempt. "You'd probably end up killing yourselves. Now give me that before you get us all expelled!"
More loudly, he added, "Stupid dolt. What the hell did you think you were doing?" Then, quickly, before either could react, Draco grabbed the ribbon and buried it deep in his own trouser pocket. Goyle let out a small squawk of protest, but Crabbe gripped Draco by the front of his robe and shoved him against the door. The larger boy then lifted Draco from his feet, still pinning him against the door.
"Give it back, Malfoy," Crabbe muttered angrily.
Draco curled his lip in patented Malfoy style. "Try and take it, you stupid git!"
Crabbe apparently wasn't willing to push Draco that far. Instead, he tried pressing him harder into the door, digging his fists into Draco's chest.
"Just lay off, right?" Crabbe said threateningly.
Draco widened his eyes. Vincent Crabbe was threatening him? Oh, now this was just too much. First the little weasel, now these two imbeciles! Draco grabbed Crabbe's wrist and started squeezing. He glared right Crabbe's angry eyes and twisted the young man's wrist while he was squeezing. It was a matter of pressure and leverage; pressure on the delicate bones of the wrist, and twisting against the natural motion of the wrist. But it made short work of Crabbe's aggression. The pain in his wrist became unbearable and he released Draco abruptly. Draco was about to snap at the two, but saw Medic Timmons rounding the corner on his way to class. Instead, he turned and stalked toward his desk. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Vincent Crabbe had had the gall to try to threaten him! Draco wasn't even thinking about Weasley any more, until she turned her large, slightly troubled brown eyes toward him.
Draco nearly stopped in his tracks. She was looking directly at him, a frown creasing her forehead. He stepped behind her, noticing that her shoulders stiffened slightly. So, she wasn't immune to him! He reached out, meaning to give her hair a nasty yank, but the moment his fingers touched the smooth skin of her neck, he found that he couldn't. Instead, in spite of himself, his fingers twisted around the silky, shining curl he'd captured, and held it softly, stroking it with his thumb. What would it feel like to run all his fingers through the bright, curling mass, he wondered.
Then, suddenly, he was angry with himself. She was a Weasley and a Gryffindor. He didn't care how soft her hair was or how brave she was. She was someone to sneer at. He gave the curl a small tug, just to remind her that he was bigger and meaner than she. He leaned over slightly and hissed, "Remember, it's not over yet, little weasel."
Draco released the curl and slipped into his own seat. He felt the eyes of the other Slytherins on him and knew they were wondering what had just happened. He was wondering the same thing himself. What the hell had gotten into him? He had been planning to ignore the little weasel, but the second he'd seen her he had been ready to resume hostilities. He didn't give a damn whether Crabbe or Goyle got their stupid arses kicked out of school, yet he'd jumped into the middle of their plans. For all he knew, they had several of Weasley's personal items. Why had the sight of the hair ribbon made him so angry? And, when he had planned to redeem himself in his own eyes, by doing something typically spiteful, he hadn't been able to. Nothing seemed to have gone right since he'd decided to make Weasley notice him.
Even now, waiting while Medic Timmons passed out some assignment, Draco couldn't keep his eyes off the bright red curls that had so annoyed him in the past. He noticed how they brushed against her long neck and bounced slightly when she moved her head.
Draco clenched his hands into tight fists. By the fates, this was sick making! It was ludicrous! He would NOT let a poor little nobody like Virginia Weasley get to him! Not now, and not ever! Draco glanced down at the sheet the medic had given him and automatically filled in the longest word. As he concentrated on the task, glancing only occasionally at the slim girl in front of him, Draco began to furiously fill in the blanks.
"Ten minutes!" the medic called. Draco was just filling in the last word. He almost stood to claim his points, when he saw Weasley was almost done as well. He waited until she rose, then he lifted his paper and called out, "I'm finished, sir!"
Weasley stiffened, but didn't turn to look at him. That was fine, Draco thought. He still wasn't sure what to do about her. One thing was certain, though. He would get her alone after class. Then he would figure out what to do with the annoying little thorn in his side. He wasn't really paying attention to the class until Weasley went up to the medic's desk and spoke softly with him. He didn't hear the conversation, but when Weasley returned to her seat, she sat and put her book away. She seemed to be favoring her right arm, the one he'd twisted behind her. Draco wondered for a moment if he'd done some serious damage, but then he saw Goyle from the side of his eyes. Gregory Goyle was giving the little weasel a ridiculously concerned look and motioning for her to hurry. What the hell? he wondered. Weasley rose and looked at Draco. The look on her face was a mix of anxiety and something else that he couldn't quite name. He looked back, wondering what she was up to. Why was she preparing to leave this early? He would have to practically run to catch her once class was out. The medic's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Miss Weasley, wasn't there something you needed to do?"
Weasley turned toward the medic and gave him a sort of relieved smile. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir and Happy Christmas!"
Then Weasley was gone. Draco fumed. She'd planned it, the conniving little harpy! Now he would never be able to catch her. He glanced at Crabbe and Goyle and saw that they seemed well pleased. He narrowed his eyes at them. They must want to keep him away from the little shrew. Maybe they thought he had his own plans for her. Well, he mused, he did. But his plans didn't include letting anyone else in on it. Anything he planned to do to Weasley, he would do in private.
After an eternity, the bell finally rang. Crabbe and Goyle both rose, seeming determined to stop him from following Weasley. Fortunately, the medic insisted that everyone who hadn't completed the worksheet (which was everyone but Draco and Weasley) stay and hand them in individually so he could grade what they'd completed. Draco jumped from his desk and nearly ran from the classroom. He knew which way Weasley would go and quickly headed down the corridor. He passed the hallway he'd ambushed her from the day before, not even giving it a glance. She was somewhere up ahead and he hurried to find her.
Draco was nearing the curve that took him to the stairs leading down when he heard her behind him.
"Malfoy!" she whispered loudly.
Draco spun, surprised. She was approaching him slowly, cautiously, with her wand in her hand. The look of determination on her face would have been slightly daunting if it weren't funny. But again, Draco felt a grudging tug of admiration. She looked determined to take him on, despite the odds. He took a careful step toward her, knowing she would never actually attack him unprovoked.
He held out his hand and made his voice low and coaxing. "Put it down, little weasel. You know you're not going to use it."
He was only a few steps away, almost close enough to snatch the wand from her hand. Then he saw her eyes harden as she aimed right at his chest. Good lord, he thought, surprised and incredulous at the same time. She was really going to do it! His last conscious thought was that she had never looked more stunning.
Then she shouted her spell and Draco's world went dark.
A/N: sorry, this chapter is very choppy, it doesn't flow smoothly and I hope you'll forgive me and continue to read. I had to cram a lot of information into one chapter, to give some insight into Draco's actions. Thanks to everyone still reading. And a special thanks to everyone who reads, reviews and logs in! I love reading your stories!!! K
Chapter 5
Some months earlier, life had been going along just fine for Draco Malfoy. On the Hogwarts Express, he'd successfully terrorized several first years. He and his cohorts had bullied some silly Hufflepuff females out of their compartment. He'd even had a run in with Potty, the Weasel and the Mudblood. Things were as they should be and all was right with the world. Then he'd left the compartment to run to the bathroom. And run into her.
Draco had opened the compartment door, stepped out and collided with another student. A female student. A short, attractive female student with bright, fiery red curls.
"My god," Draco sneered, his lip curled as usual. "Don't you weasels ever look where you're going? You've wrinkled my robe! AND I'll have to burn it! But, that's all right." He smirked as he eyed her slightly worn robe. "I have hundreds."
It was a good insult. It conveyed that he was now polluted because they'd touched, and rubbed her nose in her poverty. He waited for the anger, the indignation, or the tears that would naturally follow. Then something bizarre happened. The girl looked up at him, but as though she didn't really see him. As though she had accidentally collided with a door or a wall. She looked right through him! Draco had the uncanny feeling that he wasn't even there. He almost pinched himself to make sure he was! Then, without even flinching, she walked right past him!
Draco was so surprised that he just let her walk away. For the remainder of the ride to Hogwarts, he kept replaying the incident in his mind, trying to figure out how she had so completely ignored him. It galled him that someone he thought of as inferior had brushed him off so effortlessly and completely.
By the time he reached Slytherin after the welcome feast, Draco had decided that the little Weasley girl would never get away with that again.
By the second month of the new school year, however, Draco was in an almost constant state of rage. Not only was the little weasel still acting as though he didn't exist, she was in one of his classes. And doing better than he was! It was maddening! It was infuriating! And, Draco told himself daily, it was unacceptable. He sneered at her and she ignored him. He insulted her, her family, her looks, her skills, and she acted as though she hadn't even heard him. Even a flea or a mosquito would have gotten more response out of her!
In fact, the only time the little weasel ever seemed to really see him was when he was playing Quidditch! Then her sharp, observant eyes seemed to see his every move! They seemed to detect every little mistake he or a teammate made. His team hadn't even played Gryffindor, yet, but he'd felt her eyes on him. Oh, he knew she wasn't watching him with anything like admiration. She was spying for her own team. She was looking for any weaknesses, any chinks in the Slytherin defense she could exploit for their match. He'd tried the same thing when Gryffindor played against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. He'd tried to throw off her game, glaring at her throughout the games, but again, she hadn't seemed aware of him.
Things continued unchanged for a few more weeks. The Christmas holidays were coming up and Draco was returning home for the break. He wasn't really looking forward to it as it meant an endless round of visiting with his father's friends, mostly Deatheaters and political climbers. His father had hinted that the dark lord might even visit them! Draco shuddered at this. Voldemort might be powerful and awesome, but he was a repellant figure, as well. Draco remembered the only other time he'd met Voldemort. The man, or creature or whatever he was had even touched Draco's head, ruffling his fine, silky hair. Draco had loathed the gesture as well as the touch. And he'd felt there was something just not right with the dark wizard. Something about him didn't ring true. But his father supported him, and Draco agreed that the Muggle and Mudblood influence on the wizarding community needed to be stopped.
There were only a few days left until the holiday break and Draco was finding the little weasel's attitude intolerable. He decided that he would get her attention, force her to acknowledge him before he left. That would give her two weeks to make herself sick with worry about what he would do when he got back. Oh, he wouldn't really hurt her badly; just shake her up a bit. It was a good idea, he thought. And because of it, his life would never be the same.
On Thursday morning before the holidays, Draco had been trying to think of a way to get at the little weasel. The only time he ever saw her without that tall, black friend of hers or her brother and his friends was at the Magical Healing class. But, as the next Slytherin class was in the opposite direction from the weasel's, he would have to force the issue. He decided he would follow her toward her next class until they were well away from everyone else. Glancing at Crabbe and Goyle, who were walking with him to breakfast, Draco decided he'd better not tell them. They would want to come along and help. Draco didn't plan to do anything to be expelled over; he just wanted to scare the little weasel a bit. If these two oafs came, things might get out of hand.
As they entered the Great Hall, Draco found himself looking for her. He finally spotted her, sitting with her back to him, halfway down the Gryffindor table. As he waited for the food to appear, he bent his entire attention on a point in the center of her back. He'd been trying to force her to sense him for several weeks, but so far, nothing had happened. He'd used this talent before, when trying to intimidate others, and it had been successful. But she still never noticed a thing. Draco tried to tell himself that she was just too stupid to sense the danger to herself, but he knew she was anything but stupid. He could not consider, let alone admit, that her will might be stronger than he'd suspected. Because if he considered that, he might have to consider that he might be wrong about other things.
Draco continued to stare at her, concentrating hard. He was just about to give up, when she suddenly straightened. He saw her tighten her shoulders, as though trying to ease an ache, then turn her head slightly from side to side. He felt elated! He'd done it! She was just turning around to look his way when the food appeared and broke his concentration. As he watched, she shook her head slightly, confused, then returned to her conversation with her friend.
Draco smiled as he ate his breakfast. It was finally working! A few more seconds and she would have looked at him. She would have known that he had the power to affect her without even touching her! And soon, in just a few hours, she would know that he had even more power over her. He decided that it was going to be a great day!
The first two classes were the usual boring stuff. The History of Magic professor kept rambling on about the defeat of the 'evil' wizard Grindelwald, praising that old fool Dumbledore. Draco rolled his eyes. According to his father, Grindelwald had tried to do what Voldemort was doing. He'd tried to weed out the chaff, stamp out the rising tide of Mudbloods infecting the wizarding community. He'd tried to keep the blood pure, as it should be!
And Voldemort was trying to do the same thing! If his methods were extreme, well, there were lots of bleeding heart Muggle lovers out there that had to be taken care of. Like the Weasleys! They were a pureblooded wizarding family, but did they appreciate what an honor that was? No! They rubbed elbows with Mudbloods like that Granger bitch. Their father worked with Muggle objects, trying to protect the stupid Muggles from bewitched artifacts. Draco had even heard that one of the brothers was dating a Muggle! It was an outrage!
He thought of the little weasel again, glancing at the clock to see that class would be out in a few minutes. He couldn't wait!
As he hurried up to Magical Healing, Draco was planning what he would say to the girl. She wasn't anywhere in the corridor, so he opened the door and looked in. Damn! She was already in her seat. That was fine, Draco thought. He would still get her after class.
The class was plodding along, the clock on the wall hardly seeming to move. Then the instructor pulled out a different textbook. It was the text they were to begin on the following term. But the stupid git actually expected them to be looking through it now?
"Miss Weasley, I'm sure I saw you leafing through this book in the library, just last week?" the medic asked the little weasel. Even from behind, Draco could see the red flush rising up her neck.
"I suppose, uh, that, uh I might have glanced through it, sir." The girl sounded like an idiot! Before he could stop himself, Draco made a quiet comment.
"She supposes she might have looked. Of course, being a stupid little weasel, she wouldn't be sure about it."
Pansy and Blaise, seated on either side of Draco, both sniggered, Pansy's hissing laugh sounding like a snake having fits. But the little weasel didn't do anything. She didn't even clench her fists. She had to have heard. He was about to add another comment about being stupid and deaf, when the medic rounded on him.
"My, my, you certainly have a lot to say, Mr. Malfoy." Draco could not believe the man was singling him out. Didn't he know who he was dealing with? Draco barely heard the rest, other than the medic telling him he would not allow students to carry out personal feuds in his class. And it was all Weasley's fault! She had goaded him into this! And she would pay!
The medic was still babbling, something about a quiz. Five points for each correct answer. Draco sat up and started concentrating. He'd be damned before he let the stupid little bitch get even one question correct. Besides, there were eight Slytherins and only one little Gryff.
The first question was pretty easy. He was surprised none of the other Slytherins had raised their hands. He was even more surprised the little weasel hadn't tried.
"Even a sixth year should have known that," he'd smirked quietly.
The next question came and Weasley answered it quickly. He was surprised and angry, but he could allow her one answer. She answered the next and the next. Finally, when the class was almost over, Weasley had answered sixteen of the questions on her own. Draco was livid. Not only had she made the Slytherins look like fools, but none of the other Slytherins had answered a single question! They'd left it to him to do it all! And now they were looking at him as though Weasley's stomping them were his fault! Damn them all, anyway. And especially damn Weasley.
The medic dismissed the class but asked Weasley to stay. Draco realized in an instant that this was his chance. He hurried from the room, telling Crabbe and Goyle he would meet them later. Then he found a dead-end corridor and waited. His insides were still in knots over the debacle in class. He couldn't let her get away with humiliating him like that! Suddenly Draco froze. She was coming! He carefully set his book bag aside and crept to the dark opening.
Weasley was in a hurry. Doesn't want to be late for her next class, he sneered to himself. But she would be very late if he had anything to do with it! Then he saw her, curls bouncing, robe swishing as she hurried by. He reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her into the passageway.
Draco threw her against the wall and pinned her there with his arm. She gasped when she struck the wall, but didn't make any other sound. Draco pulled her wrist up behind her back, waiting for some sound, some movement from her. He wanted her to fight, to cry out. Instead, she was silent. He leaned forward and hissed in her ear.
"Think you're soooo smart, do you, Weasley? You made me look a fool. Now, I'm going to make you very sorry you were born."
Draco studied what little he could see of her face. She looked calm, as though she hadn't a care in the world! He still waited. Surely she would cry out, or ask him to stop. But she remained silent.
"Nothing to say, Weasley?" Draco's anger exploded. She was still ignoring him! He twisted her wrist up higher, certain she would now scream. "You had plenty to say in class, though, didn't you? You would have done better to keep your mouth shut, little weasel. But now you can get as loud as you want. No one will hear you! And maybe," despite himself, he dropped his voice almost into a plea, "if you beg enough, I won't hurt you too much!"
Then, finally, she spoke. "Coward!" she hissed at him. The one word held a wealth of contempt, but no fear. He pressed harder against her arm, asking incredulously, "What did you just call me?"
"You're-A-Coward-Draco-Malfoy!" she said. Slowly, carefully, to make sure he caught every word! This was too much! He yanked her around and grabbed her throat. He would strangle her! No one spoke to him that way! He tightened his grip, waiting for her to finally react. Instead, she pulled at his hands and continued to berate him.
"Must be proud, Malfoy! So brave and strong! Beating up a girl half your size!"
"Bitch!" he said as her words hit him. He raised his hand, but in that second he realized she was right. He looked down at Weasley's bruised, cut face and saw that he was acting like a coward, trying to beat a girl who could never match his strength. And for what? Because she wouldn't look at him? Because she wouldn't be afraid of him? He felt his anger ebbing away and was loosening his grip on her throat when she finally struck back.
Pain exploded in his groin! It wrenched at his stomach, spread through his body and finally slammed into his brain. He dropped to the floor, only able to cup his hand protectively over himself and fight not to throw up. He never knew there was so much pain in the world. Not even the beatings his father had given him as a boy had hurt like this! And it was the little weasel that had done it!
He heard Weasley choking and coughing, fighting to get air. Even through the pain he realized how close he'd been to really hurting her. No wonder she'd retaliated! Gods! What was he thinking? He opened his eyes and saw her trying to pick up her bag. She reached out carefully, but had to move closer to him. He reached out and grabbed her ankle, trying to get her closer, trying to tell her it had gotten out of hand. But she panicked! She sat and kicked at him, hard!
Draco heard the snap as both bones in his lower arm broke. This time the pain almost overwhelmed him. He yanked his arm back and tried to ease the pain. He felt the darkness stealing over him and he glared at Weasley, who had caused it all. She was scrambling away from him, the fear he had sought now written plainly on her face. Then it was gone. She looked almost - guilty! But that couldn't be. It was a trick to allay his anger, he thought. When her eyes met his he gritted out, "Not over yet, Weasley!" Then Draco lost consciousness.
The pain in his groin had settled into a dull throb when Draco finally came to. The wrist, however, screeched in pain when he moved it. Clumsily fumbling for his wand with his right hand, Draco pulled it from his robe pocket. Then he looked dumbly at it and let it drop to the floor. How did one mend a broken wrist? Especially when it was attached to the hand he used to cast spells. The spells for bones seemed to have flown out of his head. He scowled as he realized that Weasley would probably be able to handle this within minutes. He sat back and tried to remember the right spells, but could only replay what had happened with Weasley.
He ought to be whipped for losing his temper so thoroughly. By now she was probably in Dumbledore's office arranging his immediate expulsion. Draco wondered if he blamed her. He hadn't meant to beat her; he hadn't even meant to really hurt her. He'd just wanted to scare her, to force her to acknowledge him. But she had certainly surprised him. He was going to stop himself anyway, but she had stopped him very effectively. He knew he was much stronger than she was, but she had nearly crippled him with pain. He hadn't even been able to speak more than a few words, then he'd blacked out.
Draco leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The throbbing in his arm was still horrible, but he ignored it. He wasn't a stranger to pain; he just had not expected to experience it from this quarter. He was in two minds about the little weasel now. Part of him wanted to make her pay for causing him this pain. If he let her get away with it, she might think she had beaten him. But the other part of him grudgingly admired the slight girl who had finally stood up to him. It had taken him nearly strangling her, but she'd done it.
The last thing in the world Draco wanted to do was to admire Virginia Weasley. She was his enemy. She treated him like he was invisible. She was a Muggle lover and friends with Mudbloods. But she was also smart, brave and damned strong! Draco decided the pain was finally getting to him, that he wasn't thinking straight. He shook his head and grimaced at the pain in his wrist. That should be his first consideration. He would heal himself, set up an alibi, then decide what to do with the little weasel.
Draco awkwardly lifted the wand with his right hand and thought hard. The words to bone mending spells finally came back to him. He murmured a spell and clumsily tapped his left wrist. Nothing happened. With a curse, he repositioned the wand. He tried again, but, again, nothing happened. Finally, several spells later, he got the right one. He could feel the bones knitting together. It was almost as painful as the original injury, and Draco cursed Weasley again and again.
Over an hour later, Draco's wrist had healed enough to be relatively pain free. He carefully stood, wincing at the continued ache in his groin. He wouldn't try to fix anything there. The worst of the pain had passed and he figured he could live with what was left. He picked up his book bag, returned his wand to his pocket and set out for the hospital wing. He would complain of an upset stomach, get a pass from Madame Pomfrey to clear him from his missed class, then go to lunch. He could wait until after classes to decide what to do with Weasley. Meanwhile, he had to act as though nothing had happened.
That evening, in the Slytherin Common Room, Draco was waylaid by Crabbe and Goyle. He had missed his fourth period class and they knew he hadn't been in the hospital wing the entire time.
"Come on, Malfoy," Crabbe said. "You looked ready to spit nails after Healing. What happened? Why didn't you show up to Transfiguration?"
Draco looked at the two young men who were the closest things to friends he had. He didn't trust them. He knew they reported everything that happened to their fathers, and didn't relish the thought of them reporting his little confrontation with Weasley. Not only would it make him look more foolish than the quiz earlier had, but some strange impulse told him not to bring his near-obsession with the girl to their attention. He tried to put them off, but they were more persistent than usual. Finally, to get them off his back, he gave them an abbreviated account of his contretemps with her. He didn't give all the details, but enough to have them rolling on the floor, laughing.
Giving them a sour look, Draco declared that he was going to dinner and if they wished to waste their time laughing like idiots, that was their prerogative. They finally stifled their laughter and joined him.
Draco immediately spotted Weasley at the Gryffindor table. She was seated facing toward him, but she was staring down at the table. This was good! She must be afraid to look at him. As he watched, though, he noticed that she started chatting with her friends, at ease, as though nothing unusual had happened. When the food arrived, she ate with as much appetite as usual! She was doing it again! Any admiration Draco had felt was instantly wiped away. The insufferable bitch didn't even care that he'd nearly killed her. She had healed herself and was now telling him by her actions that he wasn't worth worrying about! He glared at her, wanting to walk over and slap the fork from her hand. He wanted to pull her out of her seat and drag her from the Great Hall. And then - then he would - he stopped. She froze, then looked around, panicked. Her eyes flew to his and widened. She HAD felt his look!
Draco smiled. This was what he'd wanted. He had wanted her to know that he was someone to be reckoned with, and now she knew. Her eyes were still wide and frightened and Draco smiled more broadly. Then he frowned. Her gaze had just gone vacant. She was looking at him still, but she no longer saw him. She had somehow slipped away from him again! How did she do that? He focused on her again, trying to pull her back from where ever she'd escaped to, when her friend nudged her, causing her to break eye contact with him. She shook her head slightly, then gave her friend a small smile, blushing.
It was maddening! He'd had her full attention for less than ten seconds. Draco felt the rage welling up again, but this time he stifled it as he studied the tiny girl who'd caused it. She and her friend stood, her friend looking very serious, but Weasley only looking distracted. What was it about her that made him so insane, anyway? Why was he wasting all this energy on her? He didn't know and didn't want to know. He wasn't used to questioning his own motives. As he watched Weasley and her friend leave the Great Hall, he decided he would have to just let things be for now. If he continued as he was going, he was going to get himself expelled, or worse.
Draco had convinced himself that he should leave Weasley alone for now, but all his arguments flew right out of his head the moment he set eyes on her the next morning. Crabbe and Goyle had noticed his distraction with the redhead last night. Now they were trying to get more details from him, but he was trying to ignore them. Then she came hurrying down the hallway toward them. Draco saw her first, and felt his insides tighten as her eyes slid right over him, settling on Crabbe instead. Then, unbelievably, Crabbe stepped in front of him, blocking his way and letting the little weasel slip into the classroom.
"What the hell are you doing?" Draco demanded in a whisper, trying to shove past Crabbe.
"We don't know what's going on between you and Weasley, but me and Goyle have plans for her already!" Crabbe hissed back.
Draco looked at him in surprise, but then curled his lip in his usual smirk.
"Plans? What kind of plans could you two idiots have for a girl like her? You think she'd look twice at either of you?" Draco was about to push away when he saw the dark, crafty look pass from Crabbe to Goyle. Goyle had taken something from his pocket and was running it through his hand caressingly. It was a long, green hair ribbon.
"She don't need to look at us for what we want," Goyle said with a harsh chuckle. "We just use a controlling spell with this little bit of ribbon, and she'll be our ticket!"
Draco realized the hair ribbon must be one of Weasley's. These two were planning on using it in some spell to gain power over her, then they would probably kidnap her when they were ready! She was to be their sacrifice to become Deatheaters!
"You two? Deatheaters?" He lowered his voice even more, disbelief warring with contempt. "You'd probably end up killing yourselves. Now give me that before you get us all expelled!"
More loudly, he added, "Stupid dolt. What the hell did you think you were doing?" Then, quickly, before either could react, Draco grabbed the ribbon and buried it deep in his own trouser pocket. Goyle let out a small squawk of protest, but Crabbe gripped Draco by the front of his robe and shoved him against the door. The larger boy then lifted Draco from his feet, still pinning him against the door.
"Give it back, Malfoy," Crabbe muttered angrily.
Draco curled his lip in patented Malfoy style. "Try and take it, you stupid git!"
Crabbe apparently wasn't willing to push Draco that far. Instead, he tried pressing him harder into the door, digging his fists into Draco's chest.
"Just lay off, right?" Crabbe said threateningly.
Draco widened his eyes. Vincent Crabbe was threatening him? Oh, now this was just too much. First the little weasel, now these two imbeciles! Draco grabbed Crabbe's wrist and started squeezing. He glared right Crabbe's angry eyes and twisted the young man's wrist while he was squeezing. It was a matter of pressure and leverage; pressure on the delicate bones of the wrist, and twisting against the natural motion of the wrist. But it made short work of Crabbe's aggression. The pain in his wrist became unbearable and he released Draco abruptly. Draco was about to snap at the two, but saw Medic Timmons rounding the corner on his way to class. Instead, he turned and stalked toward his desk. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Vincent Crabbe had had the gall to try to threaten him! Draco wasn't even thinking about Weasley any more, until she turned her large, slightly troubled brown eyes toward him.
Draco nearly stopped in his tracks. She was looking directly at him, a frown creasing her forehead. He stepped behind her, noticing that her shoulders stiffened slightly. So, she wasn't immune to him! He reached out, meaning to give her hair a nasty yank, but the moment his fingers touched the smooth skin of her neck, he found that he couldn't. Instead, in spite of himself, his fingers twisted around the silky, shining curl he'd captured, and held it softly, stroking it with his thumb. What would it feel like to run all his fingers through the bright, curling mass, he wondered.
Then, suddenly, he was angry with himself. She was a Weasley and a Gryffindor. He didn't care how soft her hair was or how brave she was. She was someone to sneer at. He gave the curl a small tug, just to remind her that he was bigger and meaner than she. He leaned over slightly and hissed, "Remember, it's not over yet, little weasel."
Draco released the curl and slipped into his own seat. He felt the eyes of the other Slytherins on him and knew they were wondering what had just happened. He was wondering the same thing himself. What the hell had gotten into him? He had been planning to ignore the little weasel, but the second he'd seen her he had been ready to resume hostilities. He didn't give a damn whether Crabbe or Goyle got their stupid arses kicked out of school, yet he'd jumped into the middle of their plans. For all he knew, they had several of Weasley's personal items. Why had the sight of the hair ribbon made him so angry? And, when he had planned to redeem himself in his own eyes, by doing something typically spiteful, he hadn't been able to. Nothing seemed to have gone right since he'd decided to make Weasley notice him.
Even now, waiting while Medic Timmons passed out some assignment, Draco couldn't keep his eyes off the bright red curls that had so annoyed him in the past. He noticed how they brushed against her long neck and bounced slightly when she moved her head.
Draco clenched his hands into tight fists. By the fates, this was sick making! It was ludicrous! He would NOT let a poor little nobody like Virginia Weasley get to him! Not now, and not ever! Draco glanced down at the sheet the medic had given him and automatically filled in the longest word. As he concentrated on the task, glancing only occasionally at the slim girl in front of him, Draco began to furiously fill in the blanks.
"Ten minutes!" the medic called. Draco was just filling in the last word. He almost stood to claim his points, when he saw Weasley was almost done as well. He waited until she rose, then he lifted his paper and called out, "I'm finished, sir!"
Weasley stiffened, but didn't turn to look at him. That was fine, Draco thought. He still wasn't sure what to do about her. One thing was certain, though. He would get her alone after class. Then he would figure out what to do with the annoying little thorn in his side. He wasn't really paying attention to the class until Weasley went up to the medic's desk and spoke softly with him. He didn't hear the conversation, but when Weasley returned to her seat, she sat and put her book away. She seemed to be favoring her right arm, the one he'd twisted behind her. Draco wondered for a moment if he'd done some serious damage, but then he saw Goyle from the side of his eyes. Gregory Goyle was giving the little weasel a ridiculously concerned look and motioning for her to hurry. What the hell? he wondered. Weasley rose and looked at Draco. The look on her face was a mix of anxiety and something else that he couldn't quite name. He looked back, wondering what she was up to. Why was she preparing to leave this early? He would have to practically run to catch her once class was out. The medic's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Miss Weasley, wasn't there something you needed to do?"
Weasley turned toward the medic and gave him a sort of relieved smile. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir and Happy Christmas!"
Then Weasley was gone. Draco fumed. She'd planned it, the conniving little harpy! Now he would never be able to catch her. He glanced at Crabbe and Goyle and saw that they seemed well pleased. He narrowed his eyes at them. They must want to keep him away from the little shrew. Maybe they thought he had his own plans for her. Well, he mused, he did. But his plans didn't include letting anyone else in on it. Anything he planned to do to Weasley, he would do in private.
After an eternity, the bell finally rang. Crabbe and Goyle both rose, seeming determined to stop him from following Weasley. Fortunately, the medic insisted that everyone who hadn't completed the worksheet (which was everyone but Draco and Weasley) stay and hand them in individually so he could grade what they'd completed. Draco jumped from his desk and nearly ran from the classroom. He knew which way Weasley would go and quickly headed down the corridor. He passed the hallway he'd ambushed her from the day before, not even giving it a glance. She was somewhere up ahead and he hurried to find her.
Draco was nearing the curve that took him to the stairs leading down when he heard her behind him.
"Malfoy!" she whispered loudly.
Draco spun, surprised. She was approaching him slowly, cautiously, with her wand in her hand. The look of determination on her face would have been slightly daunting if it weren't funny. But again, Draco felt a grudging tug of admiration. She looked determined to take him on, despite the odds. He took a careful step toward her, knowing she would never actually attack him unprovoked.
He held out his hand and made his voice low and coaxing. "Put it down, little weasel. You know you're not going to use it."
He was only a few steps away, almost close enough to snatch the wand from her hand. Then he saw her eyes harden as she aimed right at his chest. Good lord, he thought, surprised and incredulous at the same time. She was really going to do it! His last conscious thought was that she had never looked more stunning.
Then she shouted her spell and Draco's world went dark.