Chapter 3: Darkness
She bounds down the winding staircase, humming softly to herself. He sees her and his eyes widen behind his glasses. She smiles sweetly in his direction, appearing completely oblivious to his astonished stare. Ron rushes over to her, his cheeks aflame.
"Ginny, you had better go put on your robes this instant," he demands in a low voice, anxiously looking around the common room. Seamus Finnigan abruptly redirects his stare to the table in front of him.
She puts her hands on her hips. "Why, oh brother of mine?" she retorts, her voice dripping with disdain.
He narrows his brown eyes, a shade lighter than hers. "Because, you look like a– a scarlet woman!"
She laughs bitterly. "Oh, Ron, grow up." With that, she pushes past him and makes her way to the table Harry is sharing with Hermione.
She sits down beside Harry, letting her hair fall onto his shoulder. He glances her way, ans she can swear she hears his heart pounding. The, hesitantly, he reaches out and pushes it away, letting his fingers get momentarily tangled in the ruby waves. She nearly shudders at his touch. What had she ever found attractive about him? He looks amazed at his own actions, staring at his hand as if it is a stranger. She stretches her legs under the table, then pulls them back in close to her. Her right foot 'accidentally' brushes against his ankle. She laughs nervously and mumbles a weak apology. He is frozen, his hand tightly gripping his quill, until Hermione taps him on the shoulder.
"Harry, we have to get to work."
He nods emphatically, putting as much distance as he can between himself and Ginny.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just be going then." She swiftly walks away, her hands flying to her hair. She must get it washed, and quickly.
*
"So, how is my little temptress doing?"
She looks back at him calmly. "'Your' little temptress?"
He advances on her. "Come on, Red. You know you couldn't do this without me."
He is directly in front of her now, his hands resting on either side of her, flat against the cold table she is perched upon. Their faces are dangerously close. He curses himself for the thoughts running through his mind, but at the same time wonders if she is having them as well. She searches his eyes. The same old routine. The same unspoken questions, still unanswered. But, to his annoyance, he finds that the endless depths of her eyes are wearing him down. Last time, he had almost told her everything. But she had left before he could.
She shifts and lies down on the table top, her open robes revealing a fitted white shirt. She looks up at the ceiling, silent for a while. Finally, she turns her eyes back to him.
"You're right," she whispers.
The next few minutes are filled with tense silence. He turns over an idea in his mind. His voice, tinged with uncertainty, breaks the still air.
"Virginia, Saturday is the first trip to Hogsmeade, and I was wondering . . ."
She sits up and casts him a suspicious glance. "Draco, are you asking me out?"
"I–uh–yes, I suppose I a— Wait! You called me by my first name." He sounds amused.
She shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah, well, you called me Virginia. " She hops down, straightening her clothes and pushing her still wet hair out of her face. She holds a piece in front of her face, looking at it with distaste.
He crosses his arms . "What?"
"I washed it, but I still feel him on it." She groans.
He chuckles. "You're going to have to get used to it, Red. It will all be worth it."
"It had better be."
"It will. The effect has increased, right?"
"Yes, but the little jerk is still fighting." She frowns.
"It's only been a few days. Soon, he won't be able to fight it, I don't care how great of a wizard he is."
A sigh. It does funny things to his stomach. Stop that this instant! She begins to walk toward the door, then turns to face him again. "Thanks. Well, I'll see you tomorrow." She points her wand at the door and mutters, "Finite Incantatum." The lock springs open, and she steps outside.
"Oh, bye the way, my answer is yes." She speaks over her shoulder, then disappears.