Chapter One - The Playwizard
Draco stood toe to toe with Ron Weasley, his trademark sneer on his face as he continued to goad the larger boy into hitting him. He knew Professor Snape was due to be along any moment, and he'd been looking forward to any reason to get Potter and his Mudblood-loving cohorts tossed out of Hogwarts for good. Suffering through a broken nose or black eye would be well worth it.
"Go on, Weasel, what're you waiting for?" He narrowed his pale silver eyes at the furious, ruddy-cheeked boy, his lips curled into an unpleasant snarl. "Are you afraid? Maybe of your Mum sending you another Howler…god knows I'm still half deaf from that screeching cow's incessant nagging - "Make sure you use fresh underwear everyday," he mimicked gleefully.
Crabbe and Goyle, Draco's cronies, snorted with laughter nearby.
Ron's hands, having grown larger over the summer months, fisted before him, knuckles white. His face was nearly purple with the effort of not bashing Malfoy's ignorant, bigoted brain out on the ancient flagstone floor. He was no fool - he knew what Malfoy was about, knew Snape would be rounding the bend in the corridor any time now.
It was just getting harder by the second not to wrap his hands around the scrawny white neck and squeeze until he heard the satisfying pop of his bloody annoying head falling off…
"Ron!"
He heard his little sisters' voice through the roar in his ears and shook his head, straightening slightly. He looked up from Malfoy and saw Ginny waving at him over his slicked back white-blond hair, near the end of the hall. She motioned violently.
Ron gritted his teeth at Malfoy and with a last threatening look, pushed past him and followed Ginny to the Library to meet Harry and Hermione to study. He smiled at her, taking a deep breath. "You probably just saved me from making the worst mistake of my life," he told her mournfully. "Although I really should liked to have seen his head on a pike up on the old battlements."
Ginny looked at him anxiously, her hands twisted in the straps of her frayed book bag. "Ron, you have to be careful - he's just rotten. I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't believe it's his fault he's so - " she shuddered - "twisted. Look at the poor git's family, bloody rotters, the lot of them." She looked around them before she leaned close to him and hissed, "Did you know they have werewolf and vampire and Veela blood in their ancestry? They've all got to be utterly nutters!"
Ron felt his eyebrow rise as he looked at her, amused. "Nice to see you're starting to take after Mum - I'm sure she'll be happy you've finally shown some interest in the Family Gossip Mill."
Ginny looked insulted, and she sniffed, pulling a mass of red hair from her eyes as she squeezed past him into the Library. "I don't gossip. I'm merely stating interesting facts - "
"Gossip - "
"- and offering you fair warning. There's something odd about that boy."
"What boy?" Harry walked up to them then, eyes narrowed.
"Malfoy," Ron and Ginny stated dryly in unison.
Harry snorted. "Like that's news. Although the word odd doesn't come close to covering all the bases - you've forgotten all the other words that describe him, including, but not limited to, rude, evil, spoilt, inbred, and sexually frustrated."
Ginny gasped and clamped a small hand over her mouth, earning a reproving glare from the librarian.
"Do you really think he's inbred?" Her voice sounded so scandalized Ron and Harry had to choke back chortling laughter. To hear her, you'd have thought she'd been gasping over the 'sexually frustrated' part!
Just then Hermione wandered up, huffing over the amount of books in her arms. She lowered the heavy stack to the table before them as quietly as possible and straightened, rubbing her back through her black school robes. "What's so funny?" She asked suspiciously.
"We were just discussing the mating habits of the Malfoy's," Ginny whispered matter-of-factly, making Hermione's jaw drop. "Geez, joking!" She rolled her brandy colored eyes at Hermione as she sank into a chair beside Ron. "Although I don't doubt that it involves whips and chains and full moons - maybe even blueberry scones," she added only half-jokingly.
Harry coughed hard into his hand, his twinkling green eyes watering as they met Ron's across the table. Ron simply dropped his head onto the table and made suspiciously muffled snorting noises.
Hermione's subtly maturing face dimpled briefly before she cleared her throat and kicked Ron under the table, opening up her books and withdrawing parchment and quills from her bag. "Okay…" she began matter-of- factly, "where were we yesterday? Oh, yes, Arithmancy - "
Ron glared at her half-heartedly, rubbing his shin and groaning. "Arithmancy? I thought Divination was bad."
"At least you aren't the one who's told he's going to be kicking off nearly every day," Harry grumbled crossly as he pulled open his book bag. "The way Madame Trelawney talks, I should run out and invest in a lovely little burial plot and plaque. I can see it now - 'Here lies Harry Potter. Born 1981, Died 1992, no wait, 1993…1994? No, 1995…" Harry shook his head and snorted. "I strongly suspect her 'powers' manifest solely from the bottom of that bottle of Irish whiskey she's always tippling when she thinks we aren't looking, instead of the bottom of her tea cup."
Ginny gasped. "Harry!"
"It's true." Harry leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "She keeps it under that one round table with all the incense on it - it makes everybody sneeze so of course we all sit as far from it as possible."
Hermione wrinkled her nose and pursed her petal pink lips in a familiar way. "She probably is using all that heavy incense trying to cover up the stench from her obvious lack of talent, I expect."
Ginny giggled, earning her a dry look of grudging humor from beneath Hermione's thick downcast lashes.
Two hours later it was time to go down to dinner. Harry and Ron almost raced off so grateful were they to get away from Hermione's very detailed tutoring. The girls watched them throw their things into their bags and rush off in obvious relief. Hermione put her things away much more carefully - after all, there was a place for everything and everything in it's place, she believed. Ginny waited for her with a patience born of four years of experience.
The corridors were deserted as they emerged from the Library's tapestry entrance minutes later, or so they thought. As they moved off toward the great hall, talking companionably, they heard heavy footfalls behind them. Hermione and Ginny turned, frowning, to look down the torch lit hall and saw Crabbe and Draco Malfoy plodding along, eyes glued to something they held in front of them.
Ginny and Hermione knew instantly the two were up to no good and slipped into a tiny alcove to watch them as they passed.
"Can I see it, now, Draco?"
"Shove off, Crabbe - it's still my turn."
There was a rustle of paper as they paused outside Hermione's and Ginny's hiding spot. Ginny peered out, eyes straining. Malfoy held something in his hand-it looked like a magazine - oh, his head was in the way! "Move!" she hissed finally in exasperation, so nosy was she.
Malfoy froze.
Ginny shut her eyes, holding her breath as she heard Hermione mutter a very unladylike curse.
Crabbe looked up from his perusal of the object in Malfoy's hands and blinked dumbly. "Ghosts."
Malfoy spoke very slowly, as if he were talking to a small child. "Crabbe, ghosts don't breathe." With that he whirled around, snatching open the dusty velvet curtain that covered the window alcove. "A-ha! Look what I found, Crabbe. And they say Weasels are an outdoor rodent!"
Hermione and Ginny almost fell out of the narrow alcove as Malfoy eyed them with dislike, rolling up whatever he had in his hands and tucking it safely away. "You know," he began thoughtfully, his arms crossed lazily, "in my home, being caught at eavesdropping could mean a death sentence for the eavesdropper."
"Now we know why he has so very many friends!" Ginny gushed sarcastically, slapping her forehead.
Hermione made a face at her, and then looked at Malfoy. "You know, that in itself explains a lot about you."
He looked puzzled. "What do you mean? Not that I very much care."
She shrugged, shouldering her book bag with some difficulty. "It's the way you were raised, that's why you're such an insufferable little git. I'm fairly sure it was always, You-Know-Who this and You-Know-Who that, no doubt, even at the Dinner table. I bet your Da' fed you that whole Death and destruction, all pain and no mercy, kick them while they're down, you're better than any other thing alive load you're entire life. Am I right?"
Malfoy looked paler than usual. "Get bent, Granger, I don't need any of your sidewalk psychology - go use it on Potty-boy. Now there's a guy with real emotional problems - not to mention girly skin."
He punched Crabbe on the arm and they wandered off, muttering to each other about nosy girls.
"Is it just me, or was it really disturbing that he paid enough attention to Harry to notice he has baby soft skin?"
Hermione looked after Draco with raised brows. "Thanks for the visual. I think I'm going to skip dinner, thanks very much."
Ginny wandered into the Great Hall without Hermione several minutes later, causing Harry and Ron to look at her oddly.
She seated herself across from them, explaining about what had happened in the upstairs hall in between long yawns, and she rested her head on her arms, regarding them sleepily as she finished, whereupon the two boys nodded wisely at each other.
"Playwizard."
"What?" Ginny immediately sat up, all traces of sleepiness gone. "Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?
Ron rolled his eyes expressively at Harry. "What'd I tell you?"
Harry shrugged and returned to his plate.
Ron looked at Ginny surmisingly, then sighed and muttered something off color. "Ginny, when, er, when a guy is looking at a magazine in a private sort of way, it usually means he's looking undoubtedly at a copy of Playwizard. It's a, er -" he looked over at Harry as if for guidance. Harry made a gesture with his hands and stated with a too straight face, "Begin as you mean to go on."
"Thanks," Ron grumbled, his neck flushing. His next words came out in a jumbled rush.
"It's-a-magazine-with-naked-women-in-it-and-the-pictures-move-and-do-things-and-I-shouldn't-have-told-you-that-but-guys-like-looking-at-them-and-you-should-respect-a-guys-privacy-and-not-mention-a-word-of-this-to-anyone-espescially-Mum-she'll-murder-me-alright?"
Ginny looked at him coolly. "Oh, is that all?"
Harry choked on his roast beef and Ron gave her a sour look.
She grinned back at them, batting her eyes innocently. She grabbed a roll off the platter before her and turned to get up, drawling unexpectedly, "Guess beneath the bathroom carpet wasn't such a clever place to hide 'em, eh Ron?"
Ginny hid a grin as she heard Harry erupt into a coughing fit and fall off the bench, Ron grousing beneath his breath.
Ginny was very near the Gryffindor Tower when she rounded a corner just off the stairs and ran straight into Draco Malfoy-literally. Her head bounced off his chin, as she was several inches shorter than he, and she fell back, managing to trod heavily on his expensively shod foot before losing her balance and sitting down hard on her rear.
She heard a run of curses that were very impressive-she could almost see the air turn blue-and looked over to see Draco Malfoy rubbing his bruised chin and looking at her murderously.
"What are you grouching about, you're the one with the damned pointy chin," Ginny growled, touching a tender spot on her forehead.
"My chin is not pointy," he sputtered indignantly. "It's aristocratic. It's the Malfoy chin -"
"It's pointy," Ginny muttered, wincing as she pushed herself up. "I think I cracked my tailbone!"
"Impossible - there's far too much padding," Malfoy stated peevishly, straightening his expensive robes and dusting off the Slytherin patch on his chest.
Ginny glared at him hatefully. "I am not fat!"
He answered this by looking her up and down critically, his pale unnerving eyes looking unconvinced. "I didn't say you were fat, Weasel," he stated finally. With that, he walked back the way she'd just come and started down the stairs.
Ginny frowned, not knowing what to make of his last words when her eyes caught something laying crumpled on the stone floor near her feet. She bent to pick it up and couldn't suppress a laugh when she saw it was a worn copy of a several month old Playwizard. Ron hadn't been lying.
Ginny narrowed her eyes suddenly and looking about stealthily, she let the flimsy magazine fall open-and-open-and-open…
"Oh, whoa…" Eyes huge, and getting huger, Ginny ran her eyes over the three page long centerfold and then hastily rolled up the magazine, a flush on her cheeks. It wasn't that there was anything there she hadn't glimpsed out of curiosity in Ron's old magazines. No, what bothered her was that the red-headed, mother-naked model in the centerfold bared an uncanny resemblance to…her.
"Oh, wow."
"Oh, wow."
"I swear I'm going to brain you with this book if you say that one more time," Hermione said in a deceptively calm voice from where she sat on her bed. As always, a book was open before her, even as she ran a brush through her fall of thick brown hair.
Ginny bit her lip and sighed, scrambling off the edge of Hermione's bed - they talked for a bit there almost every night before Ginny retired to the fourth years dorm rooms - and began pacing.
Hermione sighed and closed her book, falling back against her pillows. "All right, out with it. What's bothering you?"
"What? I didn't say anything."
"I refuse to let you pace a hole in my carpet," she crossed her arms and eyed Ginny expectantly. "Come on then, just say it."
"This is what's bothering me!" Ginny yanked the magazine from her sleeve and shook it open, letting the centerfold fall before Hermione's shocked gaze.
"Oh…wow."
Ginny tore across the common room after Ron, hollering and making a racket as he raced off with the magazine, hooting with laughter.
"Give that back!"
"No way! You shouldn't have this, y'know!" He paused, opening up the magazine high above his head, and Ginny jumped but couldn't reach it.
"Stop Ron! You can't look at that - !" Her voice trailed off and she buried her face in her hands as he looked up and saw the centerfold fall out.
"I'm blind! Oh, my God, I'm blind!" Ron howled, dropping the Playwizard as if it were on fire.
Harry ran up and skidded to a halt, seemingly out of breath. "Ron! What - oh...wow."
Ginny's face felt on fire as Harry's green gaze glued itself to the exposed three-page layout on the floor. She looked through her fingers and watched in horror as the woman on the page winked at Harry suggestively, raising her arms and running her fingers through her long, silky dark red hair.
Harry stared, and then tore his eyes from the picture reluctantly, looking at Ginny. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, and he swallowed visibly. "Well, uh -" he tugged at his tie, clearly not knowing what to say, practically stammering. "T-that's certainly a side of you I've never seen before, Gin."
Ginny wanted to die.
Ron was on the floor, making a horrible face. "Thank God, I never got past her shoulders!" He kept muttering, over and over.
"How many times do I have to tell you, it's not me, you twits!" Ginny yelled angrily.
Draco paced up and down the hallway, looking in vain for his lost Playwizard. He had to have dropped it here somewhere- his face suddenlypaled as he realized he must have lost it when he'd bumped into the Weasley girl earlier. And that meant -
"Oh, great," he mumbled, walking over to sit on the top step of a staircase. If she had found it, she'd probably looked at it, probably figured out why he and Crabbe were so bloody taken with it earlier…
He hoped she was too embarassed to ever bring it up. It had started out as a sort of joke, finding his father's magazine and realizing with a jolt how much Ginny Weasley looked liked Miss Halloween, and showing it around to the other guys at the school, pointing out the resemblance. If Ron Weasley ever found out he'd done it he'd be throttled to death in a right slow, painful manner he was sure.
"Looking for something, Drakkie?"
Draco pushed a hand through his white blonde hair, ruffling it. He rolled his eyes before turning to see Ginny Weasley, holding, not surprisingly, his copy of Playwizard.
"Don't call me that -I already threatened Parkinson with death if she ever said it again." He narrowed his opal-like eyes. "Hand it over."
"No way!" Ginny flushed, holding the incriminating magazine behind her back. "There's no way you are getting this back so you can look at my - " she flushed, then gulped, "No."
Draco leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and then his ankles as he regarded her lazily, as if he didn't even consider her as being a threat to him. "So, you admit she looks like you? Just like you?" He smirked as she again flushed uneasily. "Tut, tut. I'd never have thought a child like you would have had the nerve to look inside a magazine with that kind of reputation." An iridescent spark lit in his silvery eyes. "It makes a person wonder…are you really a child anymore? Now that I think about it, The more I look at you…"
He stood away from the wall, moving close as he walked slowly behind her, so close she could feel his warm breath on her ear and neck.
"Tell me…do you really look just like her? Is that bulky school robe hiding the same velvety skin, the same long, curving thighs? Are you the same right down to the heart shaped birthmark right above her -?"
"Shut up!" Ginny whirled on him, her eyes fiery, red curls brushing her jaw. "It's none of your business what I look like beneath my robes, you annoying - ferret!"
Draco's eyes twinkled with dark amusement despite her insult. "An innocent, I see. A rarity, even among girls your age these days, I'm afraid. Intriguing." He took a step away from her, his finger tapping his chin thoughtfully. He looked at her interestedly, as if he'd only just seen her.
"You're disgusting." Ginny folded her arms and tried to chase away the silvery shiver of fire and ice coursing up and down her spine.
He laughed shortly, amused. "You've no idea." He looked her up and down impatiently.
"Okay, Weasley you've got me by the short and curlies- what do you want?" Draco sneered down at her his arms crossed, looking impatient.
Ginny grinned suddenly, trying her best to wash away the odd feelings Malfoy had caused in her. "I want you to teach me how to play Quidditch."
Draco stared at her and then he started howling. "You? Play Quidditch? You're a girl!"
"Millicent plays Quidditch!" She countered hotly.
"Yes, but she doesn't play like a girl," Draco drawled nastily.
"That's funny, Draco, because one could liken your performance as Seeker to - "
"Sod off, Weasley." Draco looked at her, hacked off. "Why would you want me to teach you how to play, anyway? Why not ask Potter or that brother of yours? If I'm so bloody rotten at it, why force me into it?"
Ginny bit her lip, pushing a mass of red curls from her face. "They won't, they'll say they don't have time, or laugh - like you - or tell me they don't want me to get hurt. All excuses my brothers used when we were growing up and nobody wanted sweet little Ginny getting hurt." She made a disgusted noise. "I have to do this! It's the only way I can get H - "
She cut herself off, eyes shooting up to his. She'd almost given herself away.
But Malfoy was already looking at her in disgust. He shook his white-blond hair, turning away. "It's always about that bloody prat! I swear he's the bane of my existence! I'll throw up if I hear his name one more time today - "
"Har-ry Pot-ter!" Ginny yelled from behind him, before walking away.
Malfoy paused and glared at her over his shoulder, still shaking his head. "Meet me on the pitch at dawn, Weasel. I'll warn you now, though - you'll live to regret this."
"Does that mean you won't let me kill myself off? Ohh, that's sooo sweet!"
Malfoy ducked his head into his shoulders at the loudness of her voice. He watched her stalk away. What would Snape - or anyone else for that matter - say about this if they found out? He fisted his hands and swore the littlest Weasley was going to pay for using him as a stepping-stone to get to the famous Harry Potter, whom he despised.
He just wondered why he felt so damned disappointed in her. No, he knew. She was just like every other girl in Hogwarts, save maybe the girls in Slytherin. Everyone wanted a piece of Potter, Ginevra Weasley included.
TBC
(Edited 8/7/06)
(A/N: Please keep in mind this story was written before I even read GoF, so it's ooold. Obviously some things are not going to coincide with the later books. Thanks for reading)!