Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Chapter Three:
Preparation
The past few weeks had flown by, despite the various forms of preparation for the upcoming Anniversary Ball – which, Draco was fairly sure, would only become more extensive and tedious as said waste-of-time drew nearer. Hogwarts was under the rather heavy influence of a rigidly formal event, and as much as he enjoyed the weekly Saturday sessions, the ceaseless chatter of excited preppies, and the astounding increase in opportunities to be bored to death in History of Magic, Draco was already anticipating the winter break with more fervor than usual.
Which was to say he had begun to believe that spending two weeks in Malfoy Manor might be more pleasurable than spending the same time at Hogwarts. 'Might' being the key word there.
Call it a miracle, but the school staff had somehow managed to keep the work level the same throughout the preparations. So he, along with everyone else, was still assigned that extra potions essay. In fact that was the very reason he was standing in the library and fighting hard not to scowl openly at Madame Pince as she said:
"I'm sorry, but the book you've requested has already been checked out by Miss Granger. I believe she's seated over there –" this in itself was bad enough, but the words that came next fell upon his ears like a sentence of death "– with Miss Weasley, if you wish to work out a compromise."
Ah, the little weasel. He had nearly forgotten about her – oh, wait – no he hadn't. How could he when it was an oddity not to see her face less than seven times a week? He hadn't spoken to her at all that day, and had hoped to keep it that way until nightfall – it being merely a midweek afternoon, that wasn't likely to happen. It was absolutely misfortunate that he needed that book. Without a word, Draco turned from Madame Pince and made his way towards the two Gryffindor.
"Granger."
Two heads shot up, though he had only spoken one name – well, okay, he had spat it out rather distastefully. Same concept.
The brunette narrowed her eyes just slightly, a guarded look crossing her face. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
Inwardly, Draco was sighing miserably – the things he had to put up with. Hopefully she wouldn't still be too bitter about the old mud-blood comments. "Only that book – though I must say I want it considerably less now that I've seen your filthy hands all over it."
She took a quick glance at the book in her hands. 'Potent Potions,' it was entitled, 'A Wizard's Guide to Powerful Concoctions.' When she looked back up, her gaze was cold.
"I don't believe you have the right to call my hands filthy…" Her eyes swept over him shortly in a speculative glance. "Considering the general lack of sanitation among ferrets."
Draco only raised an eyebrow at the would-be insult. The words didn't affect him much; such things rarely did. But really, did she have to refer to that incident? It happened two bloody years ago for Merlin's sake!
He was about to open his mouth to anger her further – er… attempt to reach a compromise concerning study habits… when a muffled snorting sound erupted from Granger's right.
Having only ever been witness to the rough side of Ginny's temper, it was something of a shock to see her struggling in vain to mask her giggles behind a hand. After a moment she gave it up and clutched her stomach, her entire form shaking with laughter. And, oddly enough, that laughter sparked his anger more than any insult ever had.
"Ferret!" she gasped, slowing finally, "I had… nearly forgotten!"
"Oh, that was just the highlight of your life wasn't it?" he spat out, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Not even if I dropped dead this instant," she retorted cheerfully.
"What was it, then? When Potter finally decided to pay attention to you? – Oh, excuse me, that's never happened."
Sure it was something of a low blow, but those were often the most painful, or at least the most infuriating. Either way, Draco was instantly gratified when the redhead's eyes turned to slits. She was mad and she looked it – just the knowledge that he had caused such rage was enough to banish his own anger. Which was strange because it was a different sort of feeling than he got from bothering the muggle-born girl.
"You must be running out of material if you've resorted to bringing Harry into this." Her glare was enough to melt ice. Ice, but not him. Draco smirked widely.
"And you must be fawning over Scarhead if you're still defending him."
"I wasn't defending anyone – I was insulting you –"
He scoffed. "You weren't doing a very good job."
"Oh, like you're one to talk! I'll have you know I was terribly insulted when you suggested I still fancied Harry just now."
"Sarcasm from a Weasley? I never thought I'd see the day."
"Ugh, you're right, that's more you're style – excuse me while I scrub out my mouth for a few hours."
"Hm. You're full of surprises today, Weasel. Here I thought cleanliness was above y –" He was cut off abruptly by the slamming of a book.
"Enough! You two can continue fighting like an old married couple as long as you want to, but I'm going to finish my essay in peace!" Granger stood, glaring at them both before whirling around to stalk out of the room. They watched, stunned, as she gave them one last glance. "And I'm taking the book."
Ginny was the first to break the momentary spell. "Mione! You can't be serious! Like a married – Oh, wait! I –" The library door slammed. "Still need… you're help…" Draco watched as she dropped into a chair, sighing in defeat.
He actually wasn't quite sure what to do; the book (which had been completely forgotten as soon as the little weasel had started laughing) was out of his grasp, he would probably not be able to finish his essay on time, Snape would have a hissy fit, and he had stopped caring about all that a while back. It didn't seem to matter anymore.
"What crawled up her arse?" he asked after a moment, frowning when she answered without looking at him.
"She's been wound up about something lately," Ginny told him absently, burying her head into the pillow of her forearms. "Agh, Hermione, I'll never finish this now…"
"Granger's gone, you know. She can't hear you," Draco couldn't resist pointing out. He was oddly disappointed when she didn't answer. "Oh, alright, what is it that you're so horribly bad at – besides nearly everything?"
Finally she glanced at him, albeit suspiciously. "Am I to believe," she began slowly, "That you actually want to know? That you might just care enough to try and help me?"
"Believe whatever you like. I'm just asking."
"Are you really going to help me?" Suspicion had given way to surprise across her features, and the little bit of hope that crept into her eyes made them irresistible.
"No."
Then he walked out of the library, and though he didn't look back, he was quite satisfied to hear her groan in outright frustration. He headed off in the direction of the Slytherin dorms, beginning more and more to care again about that damned potions essay as the dungeons drew nearer.
It was over a week before they spoke so much again, and Ginny had been happily counting the number of days that she and Malfoy hadn't had what counted as a conversation (The forced exchange of words during last week's proper speech lessons not being tallied) when they abruptly ended on a fine Saturday morning. Well, actually 'fine' didn't quite describe… oh, alright, the weather was cold, and misery hung over the majority of the Great Hall like a sopping cloak. It was the second lesson in Ballroom Dancing so far.
Ginny was most likely going to end up arguing with her partner this time, though. She didn't know how she knew, but it was most likely the way Malfoy was glaring at her from beneath the Gryffindor banners that tipped her off.
He really did look out of place in the area where her house table normally took up space, though there were actually quite a few temporary faces. There were more so, in fact, than permanent ones. Looking around the Hall, Ginny could see that indeed most couples were of different houses, if not different years as well. But no one looked quite as out of place in her mind as Draco did.
His platinum hair – so fair she was almost sure it was white – and skin like marble clashed terribly with the house colors of red and gold. The piercing grey eyes that had met hers more often than she would have liked were too cold to be found on any Gryffindor. And, certainly, no one else – let alone a member of her own house – could sneer like he could. It was that unpleasant sneer that made her sure he was in foul mood, which meant he was sure to insult her, which she simply wouldn't take. He turned his head, and Ginny swept her eyes across the Great Hall before he noticed her studying him.
"It's rude to stare, Weasel."
Too late.
"I'm surprised you're aware of that," she replied as coolly as she could. Weasel was not the most flattering nickname. Thankfully, Professor Trelawney began to speak, her voice cutting through the din of the students, before he could retort.
"My dears," she began from where she stood at the head of the Great Hall. Ginny still hadn't gotten used to hearing the divination teacher's voice outside of her dingy classroom, but then she still wasn't used to verbally battling Draco Malfoy roughly once or twice a week. It was turning out to be an odd year, to say the least. "Take the starting position you remember from our first lesson, please."
Ginny glanced at her partner, and he grinned back at her. Sometimes she hated that grin – oh, who was she kidding? She hated it all the time. Malfoy reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of fine, black gloves, sliding them onto his long-fingered hands.
"Don't want to dirty my hands now," he said, and Ginny could only gag, though she got the odd feeling that his words didn't contain as much venom as they could have. They both stepped towards each other, right hands meeting palm-to-palm between them. "Should have thought of this sooner. It's brilliant."
"But aren't your gloves getting dirty, then?" she asked him mockingly. He snorted as if the question were ridiculous.
"Better them than me. Not to worry, though, I'll burn these and buy a new pair every week just for this."
"You sure know how to make a girl feel special," Ginny said dryly, though a part of her was a bit put off that the words they had just exchanged were nearly almost semi-friendly. It was something of a relief when any chance for further talk was halted by Professor Trelawney's voice.
The last Ballroom Dancing lesson had been basic and fairly dull, but this week things seemed to be moving faster with Professor Trelawney barking out directions and expecting the students to follow. Or, perhaps, knowing they would – if you bought into that sort of thing.
The first dance they were learning – called the Pavane – seemed to have little to do with actual dancing and more to do with moving around your partner while touching palms. It wasn't so bad, and it could be done in a large group, but it wasn't exactly all that she had hoped for. She glanced at Draco, who had somehow managed to look both focused and incredibly bored at the same time, and told herself he was at least part of the problem.
They were just coming back around to the starting position when Professor Trelawney ended her instructions and caught the Hall's attention with a wave of her hand.
"There are many of you," she said as if revealing a great secret, "who have yet to open yourselves to the spirit of the dance. Before the year is out though, I assure you, all will have mastered the steps, but for now some will fail while others will have great success. This couple, for instance –" She shot a finger towards the crowd.
It was through a mixture of shock and horror that Ginny realized Professor Trelawney was pointing at her. Her and Malfoy.
Ginny could feel Ron's eyes burning angry holes in her back. Or maybe it was Malfoy he was glaring at. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Ron had been lucky enough to be paired with Hermione, and had so far been too distracted – especially with things being oddly strained between him and his long-time crush – to really take note of her misfortune. He would, undoubtedly, slip into 'over-protective older brother mode' – which could be a dangerous thing, given the right conditions. A sigh nearly escaped her lips; of all her brothers, Ron had the worst habit of being irrational.
"You will repeat what I've just taught you, and I know you will do marvelously. Now, my dears, begin."
Only vaguely did Ginny recall the steps she had just attempted to perform, and she could tell Malfoy was in the same boat by the semi-baffled look in his eye, though his face remained impassive. This was about as ruffled as she had seen him get.
Nervously, she glanced around at the assembly of students and her waiting instructor who was already making an impatient gesture with her hand. With utter humiliation written all over her face Ginny began to move and so did her partner.
But the odd thing was they did do marvelously.
Where the first time she had gone through it Ginny's movements had been halting and uncertain they were now fluid. The humiliation on her countenance gave way to wonder. She felt remarkably at ease, considering her situation, as she switched hands with Draco and completed the short set of steps beneath the gaze of the entire student body and a beaming divination teacher.
It was all she could do to meet his eyes with her wide ones. He looked almost surprised himself. So shocked was Ginny that he almost didn't hear as the Great Hall broke out in applause and Professor Trelawney began to speak to them.
"Just as I foresaw," she said, nodding sagely. "Professor Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he forged these partnerships –"
"W-what?" Ginny squeaked. "Professor Dumbledore did this?"
"Why, yes, child – did you think such things were chosen at random? A variety of things were taken into consideration when the partners were chosen. We had to make sure all the couples would work well together, of course it was ultimately fate that decided…" but she had already stopped listening.
Out of the entire Hogwarts population, she was supposed to work best with Draco Malfoy. Disbelief soon gave way to an odd unsettling sort of feeling and she glanced at her partner – who, for his part, looked somewhat disgusted – with a frown.
He was the biggest prat she'd ever met! So what if he was an excellent dancer? So what if her skin nearly tingled where her hand met his gloved one? So what if he was attractive? Really attracti – So What! As far as Ginny was concerned, she would never ever work well with a giant git like him!
Though, to her discredit, she just had.
A/N: Er…. Yeah… well think of this chapter as a… filler – I can't really have them do anything until they're sorta familiar with each other so… agh, whatever – I hope that was at least semi-amusing. My apologies if it wasn't.
FiCtIoNfAn: Soon enough for you ^^? …Actually it took a little longer than it should have to get this up… -.- sorry, but I'm glad you liked it.
Socchan: Well, it's not a _real_ pen name. I just make something up on the spot and don't sign in… Stupid, yes? Ah, well, I don't do it that often, anyway.
Waterfairy-rose: Hehe – you think Draco is in character? *sighs in relief* I hope he still is… I try to write him kind of sarcastically, but I don't think it works very well… Ack! Now I've run out of things to say ^^!
Mandy: I still am trying to convince you, no worries – but what do you mean 'other than the pairing'!? It doesn't get any better than this… at least in the HP section…