Disclaimer: I own zip.

A little note:

Ah. Our heroine and Potions class. In the last episode, you get to see how cunning and evil our Slytherin can get. After all, seducing a Gryffindor infront of a whole audience, in order to better humiliate them is probably what Slytherins do all the time...

But nonetheless, as Trancos stated, it is a weird relationship so far, and if my word counts, it will get even weirder.

Anyways, here's a hint to the cause below:

I was angry with my friend

I told my wrath, my wrath did end

I was angry with my foe

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

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Affected...

"I am not quite sure about the details, but all in all, it was a fight. It appeared that Dennis's brother said something to Draco one day, and next thing you know, they were dueling in the hall...By the way, Qudditch tryouts are today, Ron wants you on time...Oh! Heard abou- "

Somehow, as Ginny was listening to Hermione talk, she conjured a mental picture of Draco dueling. She couldn't imagine him in anything that required effort though, for it seemed that everything he did, even the air he exceeded, reflected his sneaky demeanor.

If he wanted anything, he could just flick his wrist or open his mouth. All the sly little tricks a Slytherin seemed to be born with.

It must have been a good insult if it riled up Hogwarts frosty prince, though.

They were walking hurriedly past the corridors to the Great hall for Lunch. Ginny related the past events during potions, removing her part in the fast growing story of the week.

Hmm..

Entering the Great hall, Ginny stayed closely behind Hermione, clearly head bent on ignoring the Slytherin table, but still not quite so sure of her straying eyes.

Sitting down next to Ron, who was actually facing the Slytherin table, Ginny was determined to show Draco, how unmoved she truly was.

She'll ignore him, but she'll also show him that she wasn't the wimpy girl he thought she was.

And that was half true. After the crying session with Moaning Myrtle, she realized that her storming out in the middle of the class was pretty petty, and that she should have stayed and proven to him that he had no affect on her at all.

She will. Even though, she's not really that sure if he'll be watching her...

Later, after laughing her eyes out at her brother's jokes and Ron and Hermione's arguments, she risked a glance toward the head of the Slytherin table.

His seat was empty...

Bastard.

:::::

She slumped heavily against the wall, her bones aching all over. Messaging her lower back tiredly, she heard the purring of a cat somewhere under her.

Glancing down, she found Mrs. Norris rubbing herself contently against her legs, forgetting her aching body for a moment; she bent down to gently stroke her tail.

As she bent down, Mrs. Norris backed away. Smiling softly at the cat, Ginny cooed and reassured the cat that she meant no harm. But still, the cat was backing away, now purring loudly, and gesturing wildly with her tail.

Interpreting the signs correctly, Ginny followed the cat down the hall, left to a narrow a corridor filled with wall-to-wall windows and up a flight of stairs leading to a wooden carved door.

A familiar carved door...

Oh My God...Oh Lord...

Ginny stood, frozen, infront of the newspaper club's room, now remembering the fact that today was Friday. A day where they have after school meetings.

Glancing at her watch helplessly, she revised her sentence..

Had a meeting. She was 57 minutes late, in three minutes the meeting would be over...

Watching wearily as Mrs. Norris left here to stand stupidly infront of the lavishly carved mahogany doors, Ginny sighed resignedly and pushed the door open.

She was greeted by the people inside with small pitying smiles and shaking heads that clearly warned her of her late arrival.

As if she didnt know already...

Stepping fully into the room, and aware of her sweaty disheveled state, she ignored the many looks, and seated herself upon her chair.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

"I am late." She ventured, looking at her clasped hands.

"Obviously." She heard his voice from somewhere on her left.

He was behind her.

"I am waiting."

"Very perceptive of you."

Ginny glared at her desk for all her worth, not yet trusting herself to look at him, wherever he was. His voice was wrapping itself around her, and for as much as she tried, she could not pinpoint his place.

She truly hated him.

She waited still for his riddles, for it was a tradition now.

You see, he liked to greet the people who were late with riddles and puzzles, just to see them crack under the pressure. To see them fumble with the answer or mutter an apology, feel stupid and run hurriedly out of the room. The ones who answer them correctly get to stay. The ones who dont get out.


Yes, a Slytherin in all his finest velvet glory.

"Listen." He said, easily cutting her thoughts away, and appearing infront of her as he leaned against the desk infront of hers.

Ginny still favored looking at her hands than at him.

"There is a short story which describes the end of Time and its reversal" He said, the words washing over her, as she tried to concentrate on them, instead of the depth of his voice.

"... with people living backwards from the grave to the cradle."

"Other than fiction, where else would August come before June?"

After a couple of minutes of silence, she answered.

Correctly.

Feeling rather smug, she leaned against her chair and met his gaze rather boldly.

She was sad to note that he looked calm. Rather amused, to think about it...

"Here's your second." At her indignant look, he added blandly as he distractedly played with his earlobe, " You are rather late, dont you think? A second one wouldn't hurt, now would it?"

Bastard.

Moving from his place, he grabbed a chair and placed it near her own. It was when he straddled it, that the first signs of panic began to eat their way up her spine.

Obviously flustered at his nearness, she edged slowly away, only to have him edge more closer to her own. Finally, he laid his right arm across the back of her chair and leaned heavily into her. He whispered the second riddle in to her ear,

"Two's a company and three's a crowd." He paused there, and Ginny tensed, for he was still currently breathing hotly in her ear, and the sensation was very distracting to say the least.

And he knew that.

He wanted it that way.

Bastard.

"...What are four and five?.."

Pause..

Ginny felt his breath stop, and felt him move far away from her.

Stopping to think for a minute, she felt her face redden and the tears well up in her eyes when she reached the inevitable conclusion..

She was sweaty and she probably stunk from her tryouts earlier. After all, they were the reason why she forgot about the meeting in the first place.

Suddenly, it all seemed too much. Too hurtful than anything he could have done, which was crazy, she reasoned since he didnt say anything at all. Just backed away like she was some half demented skunk on the loose.

Getting up quickly and causing her chair to fall, she stood up, and glared at Draco, her tears blurring out his expression, fogging out his curious stare and raised eyebrow.

"..Yo..You Bastard..."

And she left. For the second time, she left a room full of open mouths, raised eyebrows, and curious stares. And a Draco Malfoy standing between them.

::::::

She found herself in the middle of the Qudditch field. Remembering her tryout as a chaser. Sniffling through her tears, she managed to conjure a small grin at her various failed attempts at chasing the quaffels.

God, she failed miserably at it, she thought as she let her scarlet mane out of its tie.

Hermione was there consoling her, trying unsuccessfully to hide her widening grin. After all, she didnt need to lose another best friend to Evil Qudditch.

Standing there, she fingered the strands of her waist length hair. The soft texture lulling her as she rather reluctantly remembered...

Bending her head a moment no sooner, she tried to take a sniff at herself. Nothing...She opened the first three buttons of her blue shirt, sniffing still for some whiff, some thing that can tell her how horrid she really reeked...

Ah. Here it was.

Arching her head and meeting the sky eye to eye, she let out a scream; an anguish cry that seemed to express her now mortified self.

And as she cried, the sky cried with her.

Through the first drops of rain and tears, Ginny glimpsed a long hooded black figure. As her senses left her, she stood gazing as it neared her place.

She was rooted, still.

Watching the tall imposing figure tread near her form, Ginny was fighting for her eyesight, trying hard to wipe away at the raindrops that now fell in torrent showers.

Through her blurring vision, she saw the blackness define as the figure glided towards her. Yes, glided, for it was the only way in which she can describe the graceful movement in which he walked.

He. It seemed her subconscious already knew who it was.

His hood shrouded his eyes in darkness, from the setting sun and the clouds above that poured endlessly on their figures, she could only make out the thin cruel line of his mouth and the silver lock that fell just so across his cheek.

At his sight, Ginny relived her humiliation all over again, her tears fell untouched for they mingled with the rain and clearly he wouldn't notice the difference.

But he did.

He did. Stepping closer to her, his warmth still intact, his hood leaving him dry and comfortable, he laid his palm against Ginny's wet cheek, and brushed away at the fallen tears.

She cried harder at the gesture, and shuddered violently as the wind screamed in her ears, blowing her strands viciously in the air.

Her cloths wet, and reaching the hiccup state in her crying, she didnt notice Draco unbuttoning his coat. Nor did she notice the arms that crept around her small body.

Still hiccupping and dizzy from everything that happened this day, she snuggled deeper into his chest, burying her nose in his scented neck.

Scent...

Her embarrassment turned to haunt her again with full force. Now that she was in close proximity to him, smelling bad, wet, and hiccupping like a crazed donkey, she felt more depressed than ever in her life.

Quickly detaching herself from his arms, she weakly backed away, still crying, her face grimacing from all the hurt and humiliation.

His arms tightened around her hips, slithering still to wrap themselves around her when she tried to struggle. Her muttered protests, occasionally interrupted by her soft whimper, only brought her closer to his body.

Not before long, Ginny found her self intimately pressed against him, his raincoat closing around her, trapping her against him in blackness and warmth.

Shuddering still, her protests never dying on her parted lips she pressed even closer to him, still softly demanding that he let her go...

And there they stood, the rain drumming a fine rhythm against their bodies as it poured, poured, and poured.


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Eh. End of Chapter three.

To one of my beloved reviewers who seemed to have stumbled by accident and is currently sitting quietly pondering whether or not she'll continue this story, well, I say one thing: I might include a little Hr/R, but even that is doubtful ...Maybe..