Don't Call Me Weasel! By Jedi Tess of Gryffindor

I just can't quit, although my father lays off telling me to get off the computer now, because he's thoroughly impressed with my writing and the number of reviews I've gotten on this story. *Blinks back tears of gratitude and runs to find mummy* Thanks bundles for your support. And I'm sorry this chapter has no Gin/Draco interaction, but I think all the stuff with Harry'll make it fun anyway. Cheers!

Disclaimer: This word is not in my vocabulary.

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Draco didn't return to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomphrey was, consequently, in a towering rage at the loss of her patient.

"No proper sense of safety for the children," she muttered incessantly, after Dumbledore refused to force Draco into going back.

Ginny, meanwhile, was in a state of despair. For once, Hermoine had been wrong about something. Draco really didn't like, after all. For the first time since her arrival, Ginny was glad to be sick. She had no desire ever to see Draco again. He had hurt her deliberately, she was sure, and the sense of betrayal at his hands was impossible to bear.

Not being the heroin of some god-awful romance novel, Ginny continued to eat and sleep regularly. But she had changed. She was very quiet, even after regaining the use of her vocal cords. Only Hermoine could get anything out of her of a coherent nature for a long time. Ron tried, got angry, and gave up. Harry had taken to coming and just sitting with her while she cried.

He had been so wonderful about the whole thing. She hadn't told him a whole lot, but he didn't seem to mind. Usually, he came to bring her dinner in the evenings - hospital food got miserable after a while, she had discovered early on. Often, she was so exhausted that she allowed him to spoon-feed her, and his good nature cheered her for brief periods, until heartache clouded her soul.

It was during one such visit two weeks after her admittance into the Hospital Wing that Harry final demanded to know what the matter was.

"It's nothing," Ginny assured him hoarsely. "I just hate being shut up for so long. I haven't been out of this ghastly place since - "

"That's not it, though, is it?" Harry asked seriously. "You're getting better, I can tell. Physically, you should be ready to leave in another week. But, Gin - not to sound melodramatic - it's your spirit I'm worried about. I would think you'd be dancing for joy now that your health is improving and you'll be out of here soon. But you're quiet - and you cry almost every time I've come in. Hermoine says you're a mess when she visits. What's up?"

Ginny eyed him, unsure whether to tell or not. Hermoine had taken the news of her heartache as a sign of fear on Draco's part and insisted he'd come round. But how would Harry react if he knew that Ginny was in love with his nemesis? He seemed to sense her unease.

"Look," he said, leaning forward in his chair and taking her hand. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. I won't be angry or upset or do anything Ron would do, I swear. Just tell me what the matter is."

Ginny sighed. Then it all came tumbling out in a rush. The real story of the past few weeks, from start to finish came pouring from her, tears coming and going with regularity.

"And I haven't seen him since," she ended, staring dismally out of the open window across the Wing. She saw his face and added, "I know it seems really stupid, Harry - "

"No; no it doesn't," he murmured, his eyes fixed on her hand, still clasped in his. "I know exactly how you feel. It's so hard to love someone desperately and have them turn you a blind eye."

She smiled ruefully. He was thinking of Cho Chang, of course. His affection for her had not diminished after the events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament three years ago. But she hadn't noticed his affection. She'd moved on from Cedric, of course, but apparently hadn't considered Harry boyfriend or 'special someone' material.

"I imagine this isn't the first time you've felt that way yourself," he commented, his expression turning self-reproachful. "I really was blind in more ways than one, I guess. Sorry bout that." Ginny squeezed his hand.

"And do you honestly think you and I could have worked out, anyway?" she asked gently. "I've always been like your little sister - and, honestly, I like it better that way."

His eyes rose to meet hers, and from that moment on, they were the dearest of friends. Harry didn't speak then. He just pulled her into a tight hug. Ginny smiled over his shoulder, feeling triumphantly relieved. She was truly, completely, and one hundred percent over him and now they had really moved on to something better.

"I can't believe Malfoy's such a prat, though," Harry muttered as they pulled apart and he leaned back in his chair. "I mean, god, the guy's obviously insane about you - "

"What?" Ginny stared. No he bloody wasn't! He hated the sight of her.

"That's right, you don't get out much, do you?" Harry smiled sympathetically. "Well, ever since the day he discharged himself from the Hospital, he's been totally different. Hardly speaks to anyone. Doesn't harass Ron, avoids Hermoine like the plague - guess that's not unusual, but he's actually being nice to her when he does have to hang around her. Weirdest thing happened the other day, too. Neville was coming out of Potions all upset cuz Snape was being a greasy bastard, as usual. Well, Nev's pretty clumsy anyway, but he was a real mess. Ran straight into Malfoy and spilled his stuff all over the dungeon floor." Harry paused, his handsome face clouding in anger.

"And as if Nev weren't embarrassed enough, Snape came out after everyone and started picking on him. You know: 'Can't even walk down a hallway, Longbottom? No wonder you're failing my class,' and, 'Kindly get out of the way, Longbottom, you're mucking up the dungeon floor.' Ron and I were about ready to hex him, when Malfoy stepped forward and quietly started helping him pick up his stuff."

Ginny grinned.

"What did Snape do?" she asked eagerly. So her Draco hadn't been a dream. Spurts of him kept jumping out at unlucky moments. Maybe there was hope . . .

"What could he do?" Harry said, laughing. "His favorite student was helping the kid he bullied. He got really pissed - I imagine he got his boxers in quite a twist - and told the rest of us to clear off. Took ten points from Gryffindor, of course, but we were all too cheerful to care much." Harry frowned. " 'Course, Malfoy told Nev to snuff it after all his books were in his bag, but I suppose it was the thought that counted."

Ginny sighed again, staring down at her bedspread. Why couldn't Draco just accept that he had a streak of generosity in him and recognize how much more endearing that made him to her?

"Sorry for bringing him up, Gin," Harry said quietly. "Thought you'd be amused."

"Oh, I was," Ginny said, and it was half true. Before really thinking about Draco, the story of Snape being stood up by his pet student had made her smile. But now her cursed brain was back on Draco, with a vengeance. Ginny tried to fight the tears in her eyes, but it was a hopeless battle, and she knew it.

She felt Harry wrap his arms around her again. He stayed with her until she drifted off to sleep.



Draco was still fuming an hour later. What the fuck had he been playing at, helping bloody Longbottom? He still couldn't say. He had tried to tell himself that he'd been doing it to hack off Snape, but he knew that wasn't strictly true. The thought in his mind when he'd bent to help Longbottom had been of a feisty redhead, still stuck in the Hospital Wing, who would have done the same thing in his place - or smiled adoringly if she'd seen him do it.

He was now stalking around the lake. He'd been at it for slightly less than an hour, as the autumnal weather was lovely, clear, and cold. He needed to be numb. The fire of his raging emotions was next to impossible to deal with. Pansy, Greg, Vince, Millicent, and Blaise had all taken to leaving him alone, as he was extremely volatile of late. It had been about a week since his release from the Hospital Wing, and the pressure was mounting. All he could think about was red hair, brown eyes, and her words.

"Might what? Might actually admit that you like me, so we can bloody stop pussy footing around all the fucking time?"

Why, why, why did it have to be him? Why couldn't she have fixated her alluring gaze on Potter?

And speaking of . . .

A figure, very definitely Potter, judging by the fluffy hair and too-big glasses was striding across the grounds toward him. As he drew nearer, Draco saw his face, and had to admit that he was impressed. Potter gave every impression, at the moment, of being a guy you didn't want to mess with if you valued your life.

Draco deliberately turned away. He really hadn't done anything to piss the guy off, for once, and he hoped - fleetingly - that Scar Face wasn't out there to see him.

"Malfoy!" ah, well, nix that idea. Maybe if he just ignored -

"Mal - bloody - foy! Slimy git, I'm talking to you!" There was an attention grabber, if he'd ever heard one.

"Oh, Potter the Potty Mouth," Draco sneered, turning his back to the lake and watching the other's marked approach. "What's up your - "

But his rival didn't allow him to finish the thought. Draco's head snapped back as Potter's fist connected with his jaw.

"What - the - sodding - shit, that hurt, Potter!" Draco bellowed, grabbing his chin. Potter had a mean punch!

"This is your wake up call, Malfoy!" Potter spat. "Either love her or don't, but you can't fucking have it both ways!"

Draco gaped at him. He supposed, in hindsight, that he really ought to have hit Potter back. Just to keep the increasingly surreal situation normal. Aside from it being next to absurd that the Gryff would seek him out, the odds that Draco would let him have the first hit were about a zillion to zero.

"What are you on about?" Draco demanded, still clutching his jaw, which had just painfully rehinged itself.

"You know damn well," Potter snarled. "I know you don't care, but at least don't play dumb."

Draco's expression remained blank.

"Ginny, you prat!" the raven-haired boy sighed angrily, rolling his eyes skyward. "She's falling apart over you."

Draco's face hardened, but he remained stony faced.

"Do something!" Potter finally exploded.

"Like what?" Draco countered icily. "In case you hadn't noticed, I told her to off it."

"Why the hell do you think I'm down here?" Potter demanded coldly. "I don't know if you've seen her lately, but I think even you would feel guilty if you saw the look in her eyes."

Draco felt himself try to glare, but the expression drooped. For the first time in his life, he lowered his eyes from his enemy's.

"What do you expect me to do?" he asked hoarsely, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"I bloody expect you to tell her the truth!" Potter snapped. "That's not a lot to ask, even from you."

"You want the truth, pretty boy?" Draco snarled, his patience thin. "Here's the truth for you. I - am - a - Malfoy. I'm not sure you understand exactly what that implies; so let me make it simple for you. I avoid love. Period. Why, you ask? First of all, I don't know how anymore. Or maybe I do, because the entire reason I'm avoiding little Weasel is to keep her safe. Don't - " he held up his hand, halting Potter's protests - "tell me she doesn't want protection. She doesn't have any idea what - who - I'm protecting her from. Let's just say that I'm a better judge of what she needs at this point than she is. Just know that I'm giving up as much as she is because, yes, Potter, I do love her!"

Potter eyed him speculatively.

"Thought you said you didn't know how to do that," he said carefully.

"Changed my mind," Draco said shortly.

Suddenly, without warning, Potter's face split into a grin.

"You bastard!" he laughed. "You great, stupid prat!"

"Don't think any benevolent emotions on your behalf'll keep me from knocking you on your ass," Draco hissed dangerously. But Potter ignored him.

"God, and here I thought you were playing her," he laughed.

"Don't see anything terribly amusing about any of this," Draco bit out.

"Don't you?" Potter returned, his voice now quite calm. "Well, here's a little story for you, Draco. As it happens, I have the most evil dark wizard in a century after me. As it happens, there's been an attempt - or more - on my life every year since I started at Hogwarts. Shut up - " he waved off Draco's rude interruption - "and listen, for once. Thanks to me thinking, as Snape would say, that I'm 'above the laws of lower life forms', I have nearly caused the deaths of my two best friends and various loved ones every year since I started school. It's my fault Ron almost got killed by a giant chess set - my fault Hermoine was almost eaten by a giant dog - my fault Ginny found the Chamber of Secrets - my fault Sir . . . my godfather almost got the Dementor's Kiss - my fault Cedric was killed."

He paused, evidently forcing some unpleasant memories back into the past where they belonged. Then he cleared his throat and continued.

"But for whatever reason, these people love or at least respect me," Harry finished, his eyes coming back into focus and meeting Draco's. "I know Cedric did while he was alive. But even if I wanted to, I couldn't stop them from loving me. Or being my friends. Because, however irrational the decision, it's theirs' to make."

Draco stared at him. Amazing. Harry Potter, the wondrous "Boy Who Lived", friend of all - was human. He admitted it and had just given Draco more of his life story than (Draco had a feeling) most of his Gryffindor friends knew. Scathing retorts, witty comebacks - Draco had no desire to offer any.

Harry had definitely made his point.

"Thanks, Harry," Draco's voice was very low, but equally sincere.

"Any time," the boy nodded. "Just take my advice and get a bloody move on."

"Right." Draco watched him turn to go.

"Potter," he called. Harry turned. Draco stared hard at him for a moment, then strode forward and decked him. Harry staggered, grabbing his jaw and swearing colorfully.

"Just keeping things normal," Draco smirked.

"Yeah, god forbid anything should change," Harry retorted, gripping his jaw in his hand. "Nice arm, by the way."

He turned and sauntered across the grass. Draco examined his smarting fist with a grin.

Coming from Potter, that was a compliment.

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Well, this WAS going to be the concluding chapter (obviously ending with a good d/g snog), but NO! I've gotten several reviews asking me to drag it out. I live to please. Next chapter should have some bitching Ginny scenes, which many of you might enjoy.

Loves and thanks so much for the heartening reviews!