Don't Call Me Weasel!
By Jedi Tess of Gryffindor
This bit ought to tide you over for a few days. I'm afraid this week's looking a bit busy, but I'll try to post soon. Chow, dahlings!
Disclaimer: Bloody copyright wankers!
______________________
"What the bloody - "
"Ron! Keep your voice down, they're sleeping."
"Right! They're sleeping. The git should be sleeping in his own ruddy bed - "
"Oh, Ron! This is where you'd be if you and I were stuck in here."
"Well, that's different. Hermoine, he's sleeping with my sister! And he seems to have misplaced his sodding shirt!"
Draco heard the voices distantly as he awoke. His mind was foggy and he felt the usual lethargy in his limbs. He didn't move; he listened. It didn't take much thought to remember where he was. He could feel Ginny snuggled against his exposed shoulder. Her breathing was even. He hoped her sodding brother would shut it before he woke Ginny up. It had taken quite a lot of singing to get the girl to sleep. She had been in a lot of pain and Draco could guess, from the feeling of her burning forehead against she chest, that she wasn't going to be much better this morning.
"I noticed," he heard Granger retort. "And I don't see Gin complaining - do you?"
"That's not the point," Weasely raged, though his voice was much lower.
"What is the point, then?"
"Would you two cut it out?" Potter's voice sounded particularly irritable.
"We're just having a discussion," Weasely muttered.
"You're arguing, as usual," Potter corrected. "I imagine you're looking for an excuse to find a broom closet to make up in later."
"Harry!" Granger was sounding scandalized. "We would never - it's not allowed."
"So about my sister," Weasely said pointedly, clearing his throat.
"What about her?" Draco finally cut in, his eyes still closed. There was a moment of silence. Clearly, they hadn't suspected him of being awake. Weasely pulled it together first.
"What the hell did you do to her, Malfoy?" he snarled, his voice rising.
"Pipe it down," Draco snapped hoarsely, his throat very scratchy. "It took me the better part of two hours to get her to sleep last night. She needs rest."
"Get her to sleep?" Weasely repeated, beginning to sound hysterical.
"Calm down, Ron," Granger ordered, her voice low. "What happened, Malfoy? Is she worse?"
"I'd say so, yeah," he returned coolly. "Pomphrey told her last night that her temperature had risen."
"But that's not right," Granger mumbled, more to herself than to Draco. "According to Madam Pomphrey, you both have bacterial pneumonia. After three or four days of it, you should start to clear up."
Now that she mentioned it, Draco realized that he was feeling a bit better. Although he throat still felt as though it had been mauled by a mad blast- ended screwt, his body temperature felt normal and he was a bit less stiff than last night.
"So what 's she got, then?" Weasely demanded, his concentration clearly torn between his sister asleep on Draco, and his sister being dangerously ill.
"Probably viral pneumonia," Granger suggested thoughtfully. "I read about it in '1000 Muggle Illnesses.'"
"Big surprise," Draco muttered.
"So what's the difference, 'Mione?" Potter asked curiously.
"Well, bacterial pneumonia only lasts for about five days, doesn't it?" she said. "But viral can affect the victim for up to a year. They're only really sick for two to three weeks - "
" - only half a month?" Draco said incredulously.
" - but they remain susceptible to bacterial infections for the rest of the year."
"Poor Gin," Potter murmured.
"Excuse me," Weasely said, clearly loosing patience with his best friends. "Malfoy still hasn't explained why he's in bed with my sister!"
"Why should I?" he asked calmly. "It's not really any of your business, is it, Weasel?"
"Actually, I rather think it is," Weasely spoke softly, but his voice was deadly calm.
"Well, bully for you," Draco snapped, loosing patience at last. "You just go on thinking that, then."
There was a scuffling noise, and Draco opened his eyes in time to see Potter and Granger forcefully restraining Weasely, who looked as though he were about to throttle Draco.
"Don't harm the invalids, Weasely," he drawled with a smirk. "Pomphrey wouldn't appreciate that too much."
As though on cue, the nurse herself came bustling out of her office.
"You three again," she said in exasperation, spotting the Dream Team almost at once. "And you don't even have immunity charms. Get out at once - " she paused as she reached the bed. Her eyes widened when she saw Ginny, still fast asleep and wheezing slightly, curled against Draco's side.
"What is the meaning of this?" she hissed, her eyes narrowing shrewdly.
Draco shrugged.
"I woke up last night and heard her crying," he said truthfully. "Her temperature went up again, I guess, and she was really upset. So I offered to stay with her until she fell asleep. She was uncomfortable, so I sat her up so her sinuses could drain and she could have some water. I was tired and fell asleep right after she did."
He gave himself a silent round of applause at the variety of looks he had conjured from his audience. Madam Pomphrey looked torn between approval at his care of Ginny and outrage at the inappropriate situation in which they had been discovered. Weasely was red as a tomato, steam practically pouring out his ears. Potter looked as though he were seeing Draco for the first time and having a hard time deciding what to make of him. Granger actually looked impressed and a bit suspicious. She was watching him closely.
"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pomphrey said sternly. "While your help probably did Miss Weasely some good, this behavior is totally unacceptable. And with you sick as well! You should have called me immediately. 20 points from Slytherin." She paused.
"However, you are right in thinking that Miss Weasely is very ill and getting worse. I don't know how you managed to get her to sleep - "
-and you never will, Draco thought scornfully.
" - but I must say that you did an excellent job," she said reluctantly. "So 10 points to Slytherin. And - I'm afraid that if you move, she'll wake up," now the nurse looked very uncomfortable, "so I must ask you to stay with her until that time."
"But - go on, then, Madam P!" Weasely shouted, looking purple. "You can't just leave her like that - "
"I believe I am the nurse, here, Mr. Weasely," the venerable woman snapped. "Keep your voice down! As for you three - well, Miss Granger, I would think you, at least, would have more sense than to come in here without an immunity charm." Granger hung her head. "Now all three of you - out! Go on!"
Weasely looked savagely at Draco before allowing Granger and a still skeptical Potter to drag him from the room.
"Oh, and Miss Granger," called Madam Pomphrey as the trio reached the door. "Kindly collect Mr. Malfoy's homework for him. He's well enough to begin his school work again, I think." She threw a bad-tempered look at Draco, who ignored it and smirked at Weasely, who in turn was positively fuming. Granger merely nodded without comment or complaint and left with her friends. Madam Pomphrey turned back to Draco and tapped his forehead with her wand.
"Ah. At least one of you is on the mend," she said approvingly she pulled the wand away. It shot three silver sparks into the air, which condensed into three numbers and a decimal point. "Your temperature is down to 99.5. Three more days and you should be well recovered."
She went over to a cupboard with a small counter that sat at the end of the row of beds and opened it. After a moment, she heaved a large block of chocolate - probably the size of a dragon egg - onto the counter. Then she began to break off a corner with a hammer and chisel.
"Eat up, lad," she ordered, handing him the sizable chunk. "It Belgium Dark. Best for recovering from traumatizing illness." After watching to see that he was eating it, she turned and walked back to her office.
Draco sighed as he set the confectionery on Ginny's bedside table. It was rather difficult to swallow. Then he glanced down at the still-wheezing redhead in his arms.
Her face was flushed, her breathing ragged. He didn't bother denying his sincere concern for her. If Granger was to be believed, Ginny was going to be in here a long time and was likely to get worse. Absently, he kissed the top of her head and pulled her tightly against him, as if trying to protect her. Then he closed his eyes and almost instantly fell into a dreamless sleep. He had had a very stressful morning.
He awoke hours later feeling better still than he had that morning. His throat hurt less, his eyes didn't ache, and he was quite sure his fever was gone. He shifted, careful to not wake Ginny. Judging by her breathing, she was still fast asleep. He stretched his taut muscles, yawning.
"Glad you're finally awake," a quiet female voice said from his right. Turning his head, he saw Granger sitting in a nearby chair, a book open in her lap.
"Anything to oblige," he muttered sarcastically. "What do you want?"
"Try to be civil for once, Malfoy," the girl retorted calmly. "I brought your schoolwork."
"Oh, wow, thanks a bundle," he grumbled, glaring at the stack of papers also in her lap.
"It's important to keep up, you know," she said. "We've got our N.E.W.T.'s this year, don't we?"
"Thanks for reminding me. Is that all?" he demanded quietly, eager for her to go away.
"No," she said, and he noticed that she was biting her lip.
"What, then?" he asked irritably.
"Well. Ginny," she began, staring at the redhead. Draco glanced down at her. Her forehead was still creased in pain lines.
"What about her?" he asked.
"Do you fancy her?" Granger asked bluntly. Draco stared at her in surprise. Of all the questions she might have asked, this was the last he would have expected.
"Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't," he lied.
"You're lying," she deduced shrewdly, eyeing him with a half smile. "I can tell. Have you told her?"
"No," he muttered, without thinking. The conversation was firmly under Granger's clever little thumb. She would probably be able to dig out any information she wanted.
"Why not?" she demanded.
"Oh, put it together, Granger," he snapped coldly. "What would she say if she knew a monster like me thought he might like her? I can't believe I'm talking to you about this."
"I can't believe it, either," she laughed, her frown easing. "But now that were on the subject . . . " he rolled his eyes, but she ignored it.
"Look, Malfoy," she sighed. "I don't think someone who hated you would ask for you to stay with her to make her feel better. Do you?"
"She was almost delirious from the fever," he protested. "She was probably just desperate for the company."
Granger snorted.
"Oh, right," she said sardonically. "You got her to stop crying and sleep for at least twelve hours straight. I doubt even Harry could have done that. And you know how she felt about him."
Draco's face darkened.
"Right," he grunted. "The almighty Potter. There's another minor setback, genius."
"Oh, come on, Draco," she snapped, as though he was a dim-witted child. "I've seen the way she looks at you. She seems pretty happy right now, don't you think?"
Draco didn't answer.
"Well?" Granger said, looking at him speculatively. "When're you going to say something?"
"I'm not," he said flatly.
"Why not? That's hardly fair to either of you!"
"Let's just say I'm saving her from herself," he returned shortly.
"God, you're so thick!" she cried, throwing up her hands and slouching back in her chair. Her expression was disbelieving. "Eventually, Ginny's going to realize how she feels - if she hasn't already - and want to do something about it. That's the way she is."
"Look," Draco interrupted, his voice a deadly whisper. "You may be smart, but you're also a Muggle-born," he had almost said 'Mudblood', but that didn't seem an appropriate thing to call her just now, "and a Gryff. You don't understand how Dark Wizards think. If my father heard about me falling for a Weasely, he would have a conniption. He's always been that way whenever I've had anything to do with Muggles or Muggle supporters." He paused for breath, then continued, staring levelly at Granger.
"And anything that could possibly interfere with me becoming a Death Eater will be eliminated," he finished. "Always has been." He was thinking of Elli, and he blinked hard.
"I'm sorry, Draco," she said, and he found that he wasn't annoyed by her compassion. He was disgusted by the fact that he appreciated it.
"Anyway," he rushed on gruffly. "I can't put Ginny in that kind of danger."
"Noble," Granger said, and there was a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "But it's not going to be that simple."
"What do you mean?" he scoffed. "All I have to do is turn her down."
"Malfoy," she said in her 'Head Girl' voice. "Haven't you learned anything about Gin in the past few days? When she wants something, she does everything in her power to make it happen. With or without your cooperation, she'll act on any affection she had for you."
"No," he said desperately, involuntarily remembering her nagging about his behavior his first night in the Wing. "I can hold her off."
"Don't be so sure," Granger grinned. The grin faded slowly. "Look, I've gotta run. Prefect meeting. Just remember, Malfoy, you've got two choices. You can tell her how you feel, then do your best to protect her - also remembering that she's not exactly a damsel in distress. Or you can ignore her, break her heart, and probably put her in just as much danger. Because she won't leave you alone and your father's just as likely to notice that."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she jumped in.
"Here's something to think about," she said, putting her book back in her bag and standing. "Harry would have my head if he knew I told you this, but I think you need some perspective."
"Oh, well, anything to get Potter hacked off," Draco sneered.
"Don't tell him," Granger warned. "Remember I've got some blackmail on you that would have Ron at your throat in a flash."
He glared. She grinned.
"Right. Here it is. Believe it or not, Lily Evans was once almost the same situation as you. Not because she was related to a Dark Wizard, but because she was a target as a Muggle-born during You-Know-Who's upraise. She knew James was head over heels for her. It was fairly obvious. And she felt the same way. But she wanted him to be safe. He was a prominent wizard, from a noble pureblood family. Voldemort wasn't targeting them yet. He wasn't strong enough. Probably hoped to get James' parents on his side.
"But the Potters were very virtuous," she sighed. "They were firmly on Dumbledore's side. So was James. And he wanted Lily."
"So what happened?" Draco was quite interested. This was something one didn't hear about Potter on a regular basis.
"He confronted Lily, apparently," Granger smiled dreamily. "She turned him down, telling him she wasn't interested. But he knew better and kept at her. And obviously, she eventually caved."
"Then they were murdered," Draco stated flatly. "How do you know about this? How does Potter? His parents died when he was one."
"You're missing the point," Granger said impatiently, deftly deflecting the question and hefting her bag over her shoulder. "James knew their chances of survival weren't good, at best. But he didn't care. For the brief time they were together, they were happier than they'd ever been. And they weren't living a lie. And they had Harry. And I don't believe that death could stop that love."
"Touching," Draco tried to smirk and failed. "But I'm not into the noble sacrifice stuff. Thanks."
"Whatever," Granger snapped. "But remember that you're not the only variable, Malfoy. You may be afraid, but that may not matter in the end." And with that, she set his homework on Ginny's nightstand and walked away.
"I'm not afraid," he called after her.
"Right," she through over her shoulder. "You can't lie to yourself forever, you know."
She reached the door, and paused.
"By the way," she asked, not turning. "How did you get Ginny to sleep last night?"
"Sang to her," Draco muttered, like a child who had been caught flying his father broom.
"I see," and he could almost see her triumphant smirk. "Must admit I'm jealous. Ron's never sung to me before. How romantic!" She said this with an uncanny impression of Pansy.
And Draco was once again alone.
_________________
Sorry about Ginny sleeping through the whole thing - lazy bum!
Right, there's two in one day. Be thankful, my fiends, be amazed and thankful! No, just joking! Here's the deal. This may have to last for a few days. I'm going to be working and school visiting this week, so I might not get to my computer for a bit. But the story's around the bend and working towards the finish.
NO, THERE WILL BE NO ACTION/ADVENTURE. There will be no 'noble sacrifices'. It's about choices, people. What will Draco choose? What will Ginny choose? What will Hermoine do to make things go her way? Do we really wanna know? You bet we do!
Loves!
This bit ought to tide you over for a few days. I'm afraid this week's looking a bit busy, but I'll try to post soon. Chow, dahlings!
Disclaimer: Bloody copyright wankers!
______________________
"What the bloody - "
"Ron! Keep your voice down, they're sleeping."
"Right! They're sleeping. The git should be sleeping in his own ruddy bed - "
"Oh, Ron! This is where you'd be if you and I were stuck in here."
"Well, that's different. Hermoine, he's sleeping with my sister! And he seems to have misplaced his sodding shirt!"
Draco heard the voices distantly as he awoke. His mind was foggy and he felt the usual lethargy in his limbs. He didn't move; he listened. It didn't take much thought to remember where he was. He could feel Ginny snuggled against his exposed shoulder. Her breathing was even. He hoped her sodding brother would shut it before he woke Ginny up. It had taken quite a lot of singing to get the girl to sleep. She had been in a lot of pain and Draco could guess, from the feeling of her burning forehead against she chest, that she wasn't going to be much better this morning.
"I noticed," he heard Granger retort. "And I don't see Gin complaining - do you?"
"That's not the point," Weasely raged, though his voice was much lower.
"What is the point, then?"
"Would you two cut it out?" Potter's voice sounded particularly irritable.
"We're just having a discussion," Weasely muttered.
"You're arguing, as usual," Potter corrected. "I imagine you're looking for an excuse to find a broom closet to make up in later."
"Harry!" Granger was sounding scandalized. "We would never - it's not allowed."
"So about my sister," Weasely said pointedly, clearing his throat.
"What about her?" Draco finally cut in, his eyes still closed. There was a moment of silence. Clearly, they hadn't suspected him of being awake. Weasely pulled it together first.
"What the hell did you do to her, Malfoy?" he snarled, his voice rising.
"Pipe it down," Draco snapped hoarsely, his throat very scratchy. "It took me the better part of two hours to get her to sleep last night. She needs rest."
"Get her to sleep?" Weasely repeated, beginning to sound hysterical.
"Calm down, Ron," Granger ordered, her voice low. "What happened, Malfoy? Is she worse?"
"I'd say so, yeah," he returned coolly. "Pomphrey told her last night that her temperature had risen."
"But that's not right," Granger mumbled, more to herself than to Draco. "According to Madam Pomphrey, you both have bacterial pneumonia. After three or four days of it, you should start to clear up."
Now that she mentioned it, Draco realized that he was feeling a bit better. Although he throat still felt as though it had been mauled by a mad blast- ended screwt, his body temperature felt normal and he was a bit less stiff than last night.
"So what 's she got, then?" Weasely demanded, his concentration clearly torn between his sister asleep on Draco, and his sister being dangerously ill.
"Probably viral pneumonia," Granger suggested thoughtfully. "I read about it in '1000 Muggle Illnesses.'"
"Big surprise," Draco muttered.
"So what's the difference, 'Mione?" Potter asked curiously.
"Well, bacterial pneumonia only lasts for about five days, doesn't it?" she said. "But viral can affect the victim for up to a year. They're only really sick for two to three weeks - "
" - only half a month?" Draco said incredulously.
" - but they remain susceptible to bacterial infections for the rest of the year."
"Poor Gin," Potter murmured.
"Excuse me," Weasely said, clearly loosing patience with his best friends. "Malfoy still hasn't explained why he's in bed with my sister!"
"Why should I?" he asked calmly. "It's not really any of your business, is it, Weasel?"
"Actually, I rather think it is," Weasely spoke softly, but his voice was deadly calm.
"Well, bully for you," Draco snapped, loosing patience at last. "You just go on thinking that, then."
There was a scuffling noise, and Draco opened his eyes in time to see Potter and Granger forcefully restraining Weasely, who looked as though he were about to throttle Draco.
"Don't harm the invalids, Weasely," he drawled with a smirk. "Pomphrey wouldn't appreciate that too much."
As though on cue, the nurse herself came bustling out of her office.
"You three again," she said in exasperation, spotting the Dream Team almost at once. "And you don't even have immunity charms. Get out at once - " she paused as she reached the bed. Her eyes widened when she saw Ginny, still fast asleep and wheezing slightly, curled against Draco's side.
"What is the meaning of this?" she hissed, her eyes narrowing shrewdly.
Draco shrugged.
"I woke up last night and heard her crying," he said truthfully. "Her temperature went up again, I guess, and she was really upset. So I offered to stay with her until she fell asleep. She was uncomfortable, so I sat her up so her sinuses could drain and she could have some water. I was tired and fell asleep right after she did."
He gave himself a silent round of applause at the variety of looks he had conjured from his audience. Madam Pomphrey looked torn between approval at his care of Ginny and outrage at the inappropriate situation in which they had been discovered. Weasely was red as a tomato, steam practically pouring out his ears. Potter looked as though he were seeing Draco for the first time and having a hard time deciding what to make of him. Granger actually looked impressed and a bit suspicious. She was watching him closely.
"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pomphrey said sternly. "While your help probably did Miss Weasely some good, this behavior is totally unacceptable. And with you sick as well! You should have called me immediately. 20 points from Slytherin." She paused.
"However, you are right in thinking that Miss Weasely is very ill and getting worse. I don't know how you managed to get her to sleep - "
-and you never will, Draco thought scornfully.
" - but I must say that you did an excellent job," she said reluctantly. "So 10 points to Slytherin. And - I'm afraid that if you move, she'll wake up," now the nurse looked very uncomfortable, "so I must ask you to stay with her until that time."
"But - go on, then, Madam P!" Weasely shouted, looking purple. "You can't just leave her like that - "
"I believe I am the nurse, here, Mr. Weasely," the venerable woman snapped. "Keep your voice down! As for you three - well, Miss Granger, I would think you, at least, would have more sense than to come in here without an immunity charm." Granger hung her head. "Now all three of you - out! Go on!"
Weasely looked savagely at Draco before allowing Granger and a still skeptical Potter to drag him from the room.
"Oh, and Miss Granger," called Madam Pomphrey as the trio reached the door. "Kindly collect Mr. Malfoy's homework for him. He's well enough to begin his school work again, I think." She threw a bad-tempered look at Draco, who ignored it and smirked at Weasely, who in turn was positively fuming. Granger merely nodded without comment or complaint and left with her friends. Madam Pomphrey turned back to Draco and tapped his forehead with her wand.
"Ah. At least one of you is on the mend," she said approvingly she pulled the wand away. It shot three silver sparks into the air, which condensed into three numbers and a decimal point. "Your temperature is down to 99.5. Three more days and you should be well recovered."
She went over to a cupboard with a small counter that sat at the end of the row of beds and opened it. After a moment, she heaved a large block of chocolate - probably the size of a dragon egg - onto the counter. Then she began to break off a corner with a hammer and chisel.
"Eat up, lad," she ordered, handing him the sizable chunk. "It Belgium Dark. Best for recovering from traumatizing illness." After watching to see that he was eating it, she turned and walked back to her office.
Draco sighed as he set the confectionery on Ginny's bedside table. It was rather difficult to swallow. Then he glanced down at the still-wheezing redhead in his arms.
Her face was flushed, her breathing ragged. He didn't bother denying his sincere concern for her. If Granger was to be believed, Ginny was going to be in here a long time and was likely to get worse. Absently, he kissed the top of her head and pulled her tightly against him, as if trying to protect her. Then he closed his eyes and almost instantly fell into a dreamless sleep. He had had a very stressful morning.
He awoke hours later feeling better still than he had that morning. His throat hurt less, his eyes didn't ache, and he was quite sure his fever was gone. He shifted, careful to not wake Ginny. Judging by her breathing, she was still fast asleep. He stretched his taut muscles, yawning.
"Glad you're finally awake," a quiet female voice said from his right. Turning his head, he saw Granger sitting in a nearby chair, a book open in her lap.
"Anything to oblige," he muttered sarcastically. "What do you want?"
"Try to be civil for once, Malfoy," the girl retorted calmly. "I brought your schoolwork."
"Oh, wow, thanks a bundle," he grumbled, glaring at the stack of papers also in her lap.
"It's important to keep up, you know," she said. "We've got our N.E.W.T.'s this year, don't we?"
"Thanks for reminding me. Is that all?" he demanded quietly, eager for her to go away.
"No," she said, and he noticed that she was biting her lip.
"What, then?" he asked irritably.
"Well. Ginny," she began, staring at the redhead. Draco glanced down at her. Her forehead was still creased in pain lines.
"What about her?" he asked.
"Do you fancy her?" Granger asked bluntly. Draco stared at her in surprise. Of all the questions she might have asked, this was the last he would have expected.
"Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't," he lied.
"You're lying," she deduced shrewdly, eyeing him with a half smile. "I can tell. Have you told her?"
"No," he muttered, without thinking. The conversation was firmly under Granger's clever little thumb. She would probably be able to dig out any information she wanted.
"Why not?" she demanded.
"Oh, put it together, Granger," he snapped coldly. "What would she say if she knew a monster like me thought he might like her? I can't believe I'm talking to you about this."
"I can't believe it, either," she laughed, her frown easing. "But now that were on the subject . . . " he rolled his eyes, but she ignored it.
"Look, Malfoy," she sighed. "I don't think someone who hated you would ask for you to stay with her to make her feel better. Do you?"
"She was almost delirious from the fever," he protested. "She was probably just desperate for the company."
Granger snorted.
"Oh, right," she said sardonically. "You got her to stop crying and sleep for at least twelve hours straight. I doubt even Harry could have done that. And you know how she felt about him."
Draco's face darkened.
"Right," he grunted. "The almighty Potter. There's another minor setback, genius."
"Oh, come on, Draco," she snapped, as though he was a dim-witted child. "I've seen the way she looks at you. She seems pretty happy right now, don't you think?"
Draco didn't answer.
"Well?" Granger said, looking at him speculatively. "When're you going to say something?"
"I'm not," he said flatly.
"Why not? That's hardly fair to either of you!"
"Let's just say I'm saving her from herself," he returned shortly.
"God, you're so thick!" she cried, throwing up her hands and slouching back in her chair. Her expression was disbelieving. "Eventually, Ginny's going to realize how she feels - if she hasn't already - and want to do something about it. That's the way she is."
"Look," Draco interrupted, his voice a deadly whisper. "You may be smart, but you're also a Muggle-born," he had almost said 'Mudblood', but that didn't seem an appropriate thing to call her just now, "and a Gryff. You don't understand how Dark Wizards think. If my father heard about me falling for a Weasely, he would have a conniption. He's always been that way whenever I've had anything to do with Muggles or Muggle supporters." He paused for breath, then continued, staring levelly at Granger.
"And anything that could possibly interfere with me becoming a Death Eater will be eliminated," he finished. "Always has been." He was thinking of Elli, and he blinked hard.
"I'm sorry, Draco," she said, and he found that he wasn't annoyed by her compassion. He was disgusted by the fact that he appreciated it.
"Anyway," he rushed on gruffly. "I can't put Ginny in that kind of danger."
"Noble," Granger said, and there was a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "But it's not going to be that simple."
"What do you mean?" he scoffed. "All I have to do is turn her down."
"Malfoy," she said in her 'Head Girl' voice. "Haven't you learned anything about Gin in the past few days? When she wants something, she does everything in her power to make it happen. With or without your cooperation, she'll act on any affection she had for you."
"No," he said desperately, involuntarily remembering her nagging about his behavior his first night in the Wing. "I can hold her off."
"Don't be so sure," Granger grinned. The grin faded slowly. "Look, I've gotta run. Prefect meeting. Just remember, Malfoy, you've got two choices. You can tell her how you feel, then do your best to protect her - also remembering that she's not exactly a damsel in distress. Or you can ignore her, break her heart, and probably put her in just as much danger. Because she won't leave you alone and your father's just as likely to notice that."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she jumped in.
"Here's something to think about," she said, putting her book back in her bag and standing. "Harry would have my head if he knew I told you this, but I think you need some perspective."
"Oh, well, anything to get Potter hacked off," Draco sneered.
"Don't tell him," Granger warned. "Remember I've got some blackmail on you that would have Ron at your throat in a flash."
He glared. She grinned.
"Right. Here it is. Believe it or not, Lily Evans was once almost the same situation as you. Not because she was related to a Dark Wizard, but because she was a target as a Muggle-born during You-Know-Who's upraise. She knew James was head over heels for her. It was fairly obvious. And she felt the same way. But she wanted him to be safe. He was a prominent wizard, from a noble pureblood family. Voldemort wasn't targeting them yet. He wasn't strong enough. Probably hoped to get James' parents on his side.
"But the Potters were very virtuous," she sighed. "They were firmly on Dumbledore's side. So was James. And he wanted Lily."
"So what happened?" Draco was quite interested. This was something one didn't hear about Potter on a regular basis.
"He confronted Lily, apparently," Granger smiled dreamily. "She turned him down, telling him she wasn't interested. But he knew better and kept at her. And obviously, she eventually caved."
"Then they were murdered," Draco stated flatly. "How do you know about this? How does Potter? His parents died when he was one."
"You're missing the point," Granger said impatiently, deftly deflecting the question and hefting her bag over her shoulder. "James knew their chances of survival weren't good, at best. But he didn't care. For the brief time they were together, they were happier than they'd ever been. And they weren't living a lie. And they had Harry. And I don't believe that death could stop that love."
"Touching," Draco tried to smirk and failed. "But I'm not into the noble sacrifice stuff. Thanks."
"Whatever," Granger snapped. "But remember that you're not the only variable, Malfoy. You may be afraid, but that may not matter in the end." And with that, she set his homework on Ginny's nightstand and walked away.
"I'm not afraid," he called after her.
"Right," she through over her shoulder. "You can't lie to yourself forever, you know."
She reached the door, and paused.
"By the way," she asked, not turning. "How did you get Ginny to sleep last night?"
"Sang to her," Draco muttered, like a child who had been caught flying his father broom.
"I see," and he could almost see her triumphant smirk. "Must admit I'm jealous. Ron's never sung to me before. How romantic!" She said this with an uncanny impression of Pansy.
And Draco was once again alone.
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Sorry about Ginny sleeping through the whole thing - lazy bum!
Right, there's two in one day. Be thankful, my fiends, be amazed and thankful! No, just joking! Here's the deal. This may have to last for a few days. I'm going to be working and school visiting this week, so I might not get to my computer for a bit. But the story's around the bend and working towards the finish.
NO, THERE WILL BE NO ACTION/ADVENTURE. There will be no 'noble sacrifices'. It's about choices, people. What will Draco choose? What will Ginny choose? What will Hermoine do to make things go her way? Do we really wanna know? You bet we do!
Loves!
