Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Chapter 5:
In the Hallway
It was a fine Friday afternoon; the sun shone brilliantly into the Gryffindor common room despite the increasingly chilly weather, classes had ended for the day, the students of Hogwarts had been blessed with a lightened homework load as the Hogsmeade weekends were just beginning, and – best of all, in Ginny's opinion – her very first detention ever would begin in a less than an hour. A fine afternoon indeed.
It was only one detention, she had tried to convince herself, only a little time spent doing some menial task. It wouldn't be so ba – Oh, why do I even bother? She wondered dismally. Even in her mind, she really hadn't been very convincing.
And to top it all off she would be serving out her punishment with the last person she would have picked – well, maybe not the last, but… Draco Malfoy was still pretty far down on her list. And it had less to do with his perpetual sneer than she would have liked.
She had decided to ignore that odd (but entirely unpleasant) shock she had received merely by touching his skin. It was probably nothing, and she wouldn't dwell on a silly coincidence. What she was really concerned with was what Malfoy had previously disclosed to her: he didn't hate her. And when she had examined her own feelings she found she didn't exactly hate him either.
Now that was unsettling.
Sure, Malfoy was arrogant, inconsiderate, and self-centered – he was actually something of a brat. But she couldn't hate him for that. And sometimes – when he wasn't acting quite so pompous – he was… amusing. The entire thing put her a bit ill at ease.
All that griping from Ron and Harry (and even Hermione at one point) couldn't have been entirely false… So what did they see that she didn't? It wasn't as if she especially liked Draco, as a friend or otherwise, but certainly she could not dredge up the loathing for him that her brother had. Was she missing something? All her life she had been regaled with tales of the infamous Malfoys – first of Lucius, who she did hate, and later of his son, who she plainly did not.
Upon seeing Draco Malfoy she had expected to see some sort of great beast, but when she actually did lay eyes on him he was just a boy. A terribly good-looking one she was willing to admit, if only to herself, but still just a boy. And yet… she seemed to be the only one who saw that. She really wasn't sure she wanted to find out the reasoning behind this, and she certainly didn't want a repeat of the previous night – so she hadn't totally dismissed that odd shock. So what?
Why am I even wasting my thoughts on him anyway? She thought, frowning at the book in her lap. She sat in an oversized leather chair before the cold fireplace in the common room, staring at the blank, white pages. It was the journal she had received from Charlie, and though it had been in her possession for quite some time she couldn't seem to do anything with it.
"Hey, Gin!"
Ginny glanced up at her older brother, followed by Harry as always, and flipped the journal closed, sticking a gnawed pencil behind her ear. Quills and ink were fine for assignments and such, but they really wouldn't do for sketching.
"Hullo, Ron, Harry."
The two boys collapsed in nearby seats, Harry nodding to her in greeting. They were bordering on friendship now, and that was fine with her, though Harry had a tendency to slip into older-brother mode at times.
"You got a package from mum. Anything important?"
"Just some new shoes," she answered carefully. In truth they weren't just a pair of shoes, nor were they new. They were boots – huge, steel-toed, hand-me-down clunkers. She had chosen not to wear them right away. "You know, Ron, I think you and Hermione ought to at least talk or something…"
"I agree," Harry put in, glancing meaningfully at Ron who looked somewhat wounded that his best friend would side with his younger sister. "You have to stop moping sometime, mate."
"Alright, alright," Ron muttered, "meddle in your love lives, shall I?" Ginny snorted, rolling her eyes until they fell back down to her incredibly worn-out sneakers. She would be in those boots by tomorrow.
"Empty threats, brother mine," she told him, "you couldn't do it if you tried – neither of us have love lives." Her eyes slid to Harry slyly. "Unless one of us is hiding something…"
Harry sighed. "Wish I could say I was. Sixteen years old and dateless: the story of my life."
"Forgive me if I can't dig up some pity for you," Ginny said, as Ron muttered simultaneously, "Dateless my arse."
Plenty of girls would not be opposed to the title of 'Harry Potter's girlfriend,' but Harry seemed more inclined to someone who wasn't after him for his name and his scar. That cut down his numbers substantially. But he seemed content to watch and wait. Ginny shrugged mentally and glanced at the aged grandfather clock in the corner of the room.
"I've got to go," she said, standing.
"Where to, Gin?"
"Oh… just to get in some studying – you know, in the library." Ron didn't need to know she had detention with Draco Malfoy. It was for his own good, Ginny told herself as she dropped off her journal in the dorm and headed out the door. No need for him to get worked up over nothing.
Draco was annoyed.
Not only did he have detention (and he really didn't need another one), but he had detention with a Weasley. Ginny Weasley, to be exact. He really didn't want to be around that girl, though what really bothered him was that he didn't particularly not want to be around her either. And that made him not want to be around her more than ever – which, altogether, really didn't make a lot of sense if one thought hard about it.
So how was it he had managed to arrive on time, if not – God forbid – early, for this so-called punishment? Detention had lost its menacing sheen after he had discovered that not all rule-breaking would land him with a trip to the forbidden forest. It was dreary, if anything, but hardly what he considered a real punishment. Draco shrugged mentally, thanked whoever was looking out for him that they had been forced to serve under Snape, and decided some mysteries were best left unsolved – mysteries like his uncharacteristic promptness and that… thing… that had happened when Weasley decided to lay her food-coated fingers across his forehead.
Originally he had assumed it was some sort of attempt to hex him, but with over twelve hours gone and no side effects that theory was tossed out the window along with the happening itself. He would as soon forget the whole thing as he would solve it. And since there was little chance of that happening…
Before Draco the door to the potions room came into view, a little redhead leaning against the wall outside of it. Apparently Snape was going to be late. Ginny saw him coming and a flicker of surprise flashed across her face – probably at his early arrival – before she looked back to her shoes awkwardly. Taking a stance opposite of her, Draco was content, or as content as was possible considering he was waiting to be punished, to remain in silence until they were set to some dull task or other.
"Well, well," the chilled voice of Hogwarts resident potions master began. The man himself had come quite close without either of them noticing, so Ginny nearly jumped at the sound while Draco only blinked. "Miss Weasley. Your presence here is most… irregular." Snape seemed to study the two of them almost absently for a moment before turning, not to his classroom as Draco had supposed, but to a door across the hall. It was unlocked with a muttered spell and Snape opened the door wide, but didn't go in. It looked like some sort of…. of a broom closet. "Clean these halls, without the use of your wands. I'll expect them spotless when I return."
Damn. It was a broom closet.
"Y-you're just going to leave us here alone?" Ginny asked as Snape moved to go down the hall. He stopped and gave her that penetrating stare he was famous for.
"I have better things to do than watch you two mop the floors," he paused and added as an afterthought, "Don't think you can get away with doing nothing. I will know if you decide to… neglect your duties."
And then he was gone, leaving Draco alone to face the merciless horde of mops, brooms, and buckets and the diminutive redhead who was already preparing to put them to use. And at one point I was glad to have detention under Snape… I knew there had to be a reason everyone hates him, Draco thought miserably as a mop was thrust into his hands. Malfoys did not clean – that was all there was to it. He tossed the mop down and it hit the floor with a clatter that alerted Ginny to his unwillingness. She glared at him.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like, Weasley?" he drawled with a sneer, more disgusted with himself at the moment than at her. Fighting with her amused him far more than it should have.
"If you think that just because no one is here to supervise you can get away with lazing about, you've got another thing coming!" she snapped in a tone that reminded him eerily of Professor McGonagall. "I am not going to do this alone –"
"You don't have to," Draco cut in smoothly. "We can both leave. Snape will never know the difference."
Unfortunately, Ginny wasn't one to be so easily convinced. "Snape will know," she insisted, "he said so himself. Besides, how much more trouble would we be in if we decided not to serve detention today? A lot more than it'd be worth, I'll tell you that!"
She took out her wand and held it over an empty bucket.
"Amnis Aquatio!" Water spilled from the tip of her wand as it would from a fountain filling the pail to the brim and coming to a trickle before stopping completely. Mop in hand she turned to him, tucking the wand back inside her sleeve. "You can fill your own bucket."
"You're forgetting something."
"What is it?" she asked, almost absently and without even looking at him. Draco had to wonder if she knew how mad that drove him.
"I don't clean –"
She cut him off. "You do now." He ignored her.
"That sort of thing is for people like you to have fun with."
"But why should I deny you the pleasure?" her voice came dripping with false sincerity from the depths of the open closet where she had begun to dig for cleaning fluid.
"What pleasure?" Draco shot back at her.
"Don't ask me. You're the one who said it was fun."
Ginny popped back out of the closet, faded yellow bottle in hand. She poured a kind of viscous gel into her bucket, and a lemony, inorganic scent filled the air between them. He pulled a face as it reached his nose and wondered why he hadn't simply walked away already. It struck him as a good idea at the moment.
"Well, I'm not sticking around," he announced – though in retrospect it was probably not the greatest course of action, for if none of his earlier jibes had sparked Ginny's anger, this one surely did.
"Is it possible at all for you to act as if you were out of your nappies for five bleeding seconds!?" she hissed, emphasizing her words with a splash as she plunged her mop into the brimming bucket. Soapy water sloshed over both of them; their shoes, their legs, the hems of their robes. Wide brown eyes met his, all anger washed away by the water on the floor and on their feet. "Oh, my – I didn't mean to! Sorry –"
Draco really couldn't help himself. "Frigidus Aquula."
She stopped in mid sentence, her mouth gaping like the mouth of a fish, as a small stream spouted from his wand and fell with perfect accuracy directly over her head. Sparkling with the droplets rolling down her skin, soaking into her clothes, she shuddered raising her shoulders and standing stiffly.
"Y-you're trying to kill me! Merlin, that's freezing," she said with a glare, though with her shivering it really wasn't very intimidating. After she pulled out her wand and called "Amnis Aquatio," however, he was thinking a little differently.
Now they were both drenched, but the fact was lost on the two as they faced off, shooting water left and right, ducking behind open doors when the opportunity arose. It didn't take long before the floor was as soaked as they were, but both were too caught up in catching the other off-guard to remember the little things. Little things like detention and old family grudges.
Draco leaned almost casually against the wall beside the right angle of an open door, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that Ginny was approaching from the other side. As soon as she was close enough he slammed the door closed, startling the redhead into temporary motionlessness. During the few second that she stood blinking in surprise he let a small stream pour from his wand. It splashed her in the face and he grinned as she tried to wipe the water from her eyes.
"You – that wasn't fair!" she spluttered, and if he hadn't known better he would have sworn she was pouting.
"Now who ought to 'act as if they were out of their nappies'?"
"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," she said, raising her dripping nose in mock solemnity.
"That's just a fancy way of saying you can't come up with a clever response."
There were a number of ways Draco imagined she might respond to that, but all of them proved to be wrong because laughing out loud certainly hadn't been on the list. He could only stare at her, aghast, as torch-light shone golden on her head of fiery curls and drops of water fell, winking, from her shaking form. The red of her lips and the black of her long lashes stood out against her skin, pale now from the cold but for her rosy cheeks and slightly reddened nose.
What surprised him was not her laughter – he had never truly been able to predict her anyway – but the odd notion that struck him just then; she was beautiful, gorgeous even. It wasn't the superficial, wilting beauty he was accustomed to, it was more… real, simple, natural… he couldn't place the difference, but there was one, most definitely.
Not that it changed anything.
"Got me there," she huffed, then grinned, "I'll make you a deal – I'll grow up as soon as you do."
He never got the chance to reply as a chorus of footsteps and voices floated down the hall and to their ears, coming ever closer. He turned to find a group of familiar, if not always welcome, faces.
"Draco! Didn't guess we'd find you here." Blaise Zabini smiled disarmingly at him, flanked on both sides by members of the Slytherin quidditch team. "So – serving detention…?" his eyes, an unremarkable brown like his mop of hair, traveled to Ginny behind him. "…Or just having some fun?"
Draco snorted in contempt – more at himself than at Zabini, mainly because he had been having fun, though not in the way the other boy meant it. But no one else had to know that.
"As a matter of fact, yes. Mopping floors with a Weasley is my idea of a good time – isn't it yours?"
"That's what you've been doing, is it?" It was only then that Draco realized the mops had disappeared a while back and so had the closet. He wondered where he was, exactly. "You look like you've been in a fight with the giant squid – how'd you get so wet?"
"Oh…" I was just engaging in a completely immature, out of character water battle with the daughter of my father's worst enemy, he could hear himself say. It was loads of fun. "Yes, well, what did you expect? I'm working with a Weasley; clumsy as a dying hippogriff, all of them. Quite pathetic, really."
Zabini merely gave him a benign smile, obviously meant to look innocent. The effect wasn't quite achieved. The boy instead appeared as if he knew something no one else did – but then again, he always looked that way. Bloody annoying, that.
The others smiled, chuckling dumbly, apparently agreeing with Draco's assessment. That was also fairly agitating, considering they had probably forgotten what a hippogriff was.
"Looks like you've offended her," he laughed jarringly.
Draco turned around swiftly to glance at Ginny, half expecting to find her glaring forcefully at him, but all he saw was her back as she strode away at a near jog, kicking up water on the sopping floors as she went. She had left without even stopping to give him a piece of her mind. That was strange, but even stranger… he felt almost… guilty. He decided with incredible rapidity that he didn't like the feeling.
"Say, if you're so busy mopping, what exactly happened to your mop?"
As he turned to answer, Draco began more and more to wish he'd left with her.
A/N: Well, sure, Draco was OOC here, but all in all I rather like this chapter… I want Draco and Ginny to come off as somewhat childish… Anyway – I've read the new HP book! While it doesn't really affect this plotline I'm going to continue to write this as if the new book never came out; mainly because I have plans for Percy in a later chapter (not overly large plans, but still…) and I just want to keep things simpler… so, that being said, on to the reviews (for which I am eternally grateful):
Bulma Greenleaf: Don't worry! I'll continue until the very end… unless I meet an untimely demise – here's to hoping that doesn't happen!
Capuccino: Thanks – Glad you like it! (I think that's about all I have to say…)
Socchan: Yes! Write to the management! Though I don't know how many people would want to label (or read) a fic with merely 'amusing' as a genre when they could go for 'humorous'…. Well, except for me, but I'm an oddball so that doesn't count… Actually, most of my friends go to other friends who don't have love-lives for help… I think it's because I don't appear to be interested in that sort of thing (which I'm not, particularly)… or because I don't know what to say to them when they do ask me ^^;;
PrincessOfIllFate: I regret to inform you that there won't be any snogging for a few chapters… mwaha… but since you want me to hurry I think I might drag it out a liiiiiittle longer – Gah! No, just kidding, I swear! I have plans for this story… big plans…. Ok, well, maybe they're more like slightly-larger-than-miniscule plans, but still… *blinks* wait – didn't you just kill yourself back there? …Congrats! You have officially confused the author! (You and about 5 million other people…)
Mandy: Ha! You probably don't think he's so in-character now… but he's still arrogant, right?? Well, whatever… I don't care about keeping him in-character anymore! I have absolute power over everything that goes on in this fic!! Haha!! *Stops going power-mad* Erm… I'm ok, really…