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Chapter One: The Day It All Began

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Disclaimer etc in first part

Heliona Writes: Draco, Hermione and Ron
Kyizi Writes: Ginny, Harry and Parvati

Yahoo! Group: a_smirk_and_a_smile

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Draco:

Draco only picked at his food, instead shoving it round his plate. He glanced down the table of Slytherins. He saw two large fifth year boys; Dave Matthews and Steven Burrows, he remembered. They appeared to have some intelligence, and Draco was intent on recruiting them as Beaters.

He already had two Chasers lined up, a sixth year named Kelly Marshall, and a fourth year called Ian Knight. Scanning the group of Slytherins further down the table, he spotted the girl he was looking for. Draco had seen Keira Silver fly the week before, and knew that he'd found his last Chaser. The only problem was that she was becoming annoyingly difficult to find outside of lessons, and because she was only a third year, Draco hadn't yet been able to arrange a chance meeting.

He turned to the lean boy sitting beside him. It was Vlad Davids, a transfer student from Durmstrang. For some reason, although he was born and bred English, his parents had decided to give him a silly name and send him to Durmstrang. Although, Draco certainly didn't see anything wrong with going to Durmstrang, it definitely helped if you could speak the language there, and Vlad was useless with languages. His parents had finally given up trying to get him to learn anything there, and sent him to Hogwarts in his fifth year. Draco knew that the only thing he'd done well at Durmstrang was play for a Quidditch team.

"Vlad, how would you like to play Keeper for my team?" Draco asked, out of the blue.

Vlad choked on his mashed potatoes. "What? I would love to, Draco, but how did you know I was a Keeper?"

Draco smiled an emotionless smile. "It's my business to know these things. And don't call me Draco. I'm your team Captain, not your friend."

Vlad swallowed nervously. Good, Draco thought, better that he's nervous and listens to me. Getting this team in shape is going to be a nightmare. He finally decided what he was going to do about Keira, and quickly finished the food in front of him.

Pushing the plate away, Draco stood up, ignoring a puzzled look from Blaise opposite him. He strode down the Hall, stopping to stand behind Keira. The conversation around her died, and she looked up to see why. Draco leant down and whispered in her ear, "Meet me at the Quidditch pitch in ten minutes. Don't be late." He turned and walked away, not giving her time to answer.

As he exited the Great Hall, Draco's eyes were caught by a flash of red. Bloody hell, Draco, stop thinking about that tart and concentrate on Quidditch. He ignored the very quiet voice that whispered to him, She's not a tart, and walked outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. That should clear my head of thoughts of her. Although, he admitted to himself, she certainly has a fit body, he reflected as his mind skipped back to their detention that morning. Was it only that morning? It seemed like forever.

He quickly brought his thoughts into check as he stepped onto the Quidditch pitch. He spent the next few minutes going over strategies in his mind, and then turned to watch Keira Silver walk towards him. Speaking of great bodies…Draco smirked openly as she eyed him warily.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"What don't I want, is the more appropriate question," Draco said lightly. "However, I didn't ask you here to talk about me, as lovely as the topic is."

"Commanded, more like," Keira muttered, obviously to herself, but Draco caught her words.

"Exactly, Miss Silver," he snapped. "And I will continue to command you until this team is whipped into shape."

"Team, what team?" she asked, looking confused.

"I wouldn't do that," Draco advised. "Your face might stick like that, and then no one will want you." He ignored the furious look on her face, and continued. "I'm talking, of course, about the Quidditch team, of which you are now a member. You're playing a Chaser, and I expect you to come to training tomorrow morning at six."

"What?" Keira's mouth dropped open, but she quickly shut it after Draco raised his eyebrow. "You can't just order me to play."

"Of course I can. Don't you know who I am? If you don't play, I'll take House points off you." He wagged his finger at her. "Don't think I won't take points off my own House. Quidditch is more important than that, and you're going to play. Take it as a compliment that I went out of my way to ask you."

Keira glared at him, and Draco matched it. Finally, he sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. "Look, Slytherin hasn't won the Quidditch Cup for years, all because of Potter. If we have you on the team, we can win it this year. Do you really want to let your House down?"

Keira's expression softened. "I suppose not. All right, I'll be there. Although, does it have to be that early?"

Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest and didn't answer. "I guess it does," she said glumly. "I'll see you then, then." She walked slowly back up the hill.

I am so good, Draco smirked. Today was looking up. He decided to head to the library to finish his homework. He wanted to access some books from the Restricted Section, and despite being a Malfoy, Madam Pince wouldn't let him leave the library with them, which meant he had to sit at the tables with the rest of the studious types in the school.

Draco shuddered involuntarily as he thought he might see the Mudblood, Granger. Although, perhaps not. She has been making googly-eyes at Potter recently. He grinned. I wonder how long they'll be able to keep that secret from the Weasel. Now there's an interesting piece of information. Draco's eyes glittered as he entered his room to get his school stuff. Very interesting indeed.

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Ginny:

Ginny checked around the corner. There was no one there. She ran as quick as she could and stood flat against the wall, making sure that the suit of armour had her completely hidden. This is ridiculous! She thought angrily. I should not have to hide from my friends! She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall, trying to ignore the small voice that was reminding her she had brought the whole thing on herself. She really needed to watch what she was saying. What was more disturbing was that she was not only thinking of Malfoy as Draco, no, the most disturbing thought was that she was thinking of Malfoy at all!

What I have to do is just make sure that the only time I see him is when we're on the Quidditch pitch and even then, I'll be concentrating on the Quaffle. In fact, she rationalised. I'm not even playing this week, that gives me the perfect opportunity to just sit back and study Draco. No! Harry, not Draco! Ugh, Malfoy!

Ginny turned and hit her head off the wall, hoping to knock some sense into herself, but it had no effect other than giving her a headache. Sighing, she decided to forget about her friends chasing her, about her current obsession with Draco Malfoy and turned towards the library.

She had grabbed her homework as she made her quick getaway from Gryffindor Tower and she was thankful. Her Arithmancy homework was enough to scramble her brains so that she wouldn't think about anything or anyone. Even if his gorgeous grey eyes were currently staring right at her.

Crap! Crap! Crap! She wanted to turn and run. Why can't Malfoy have his own library! He's rich enough! Dumbledore could make it for him and oh, my God! I'm staring at him. Blatantly staring at him!

Panic in her eyes, she hastily sat down at the nearest available chair, which was opposite, but three closer to the door than Malfoy's was. It was a Saturday and she couldn't understand why the library was so busy, until she remembered that the seventh years had a special project to hand in for Professor McGonagall on Monday, and no one wanted to fail.

Ginny suddenly realised that she was staring again. His hair was looking mussed up, as if he had been running his hands through it and Ginny smiled, wanting nothing more than to run her hands through his hair. She remembered when he was younger that he used to slick his hair back, but she definitely preferred it the way he had it now; it was sexier and Draco was staring at her!

"Hey, Ginny, do you have your Defence Against the Dark Arts homework with you?"

Startled to find someone seeking her attention, Ginny jumped and turned to face Jerry Smith, the Ravenclaw boy who sat next to her whenever possible.

"Yes, I do, but I am not giving it to you. Do your own," she replied with a scowl. Not only was she irritated with herself for blatantly drooling all over Draco Malfoy, but she was fed up of Jerry's advances. He wasn't ugly exactly, just smug, and he didn't have the Malfoy good looks to pull it off, not that she didn't often want to smack the smirk off Draco Malfoy's face.

"Oh, come on, Gin, I'll take you for dinner at the next Hogsmead trip as a thank you."

Ginny looked away from Jerry, suppressing a shudder. She frowned as she realised that Draco was smirking at her, but for once he seemed to be sharing a joke with her, as if he was teasing her for Jerry's advances.

"Ginny?" Jerry's voice broke her gaze with Malfoy as she turned to look at the Ravenclaw, suddenly remembering that he had just asked her out. Again. Spending any time with Jerry was bad enough, but the thought of spending a prolonged period of time with him by choice was just disturbing.


"I'll pass, thanks," Ginny said and turned back to her books. When Jerry finally took the hint and left her alone, she chanced another look at Draco and found him still staring at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. That in itself was something of an oddity. Draco Malfoy did not smile. Ever. Especially at a Gryffindor, and definitely not at a Weasley. He smirked, he glared, he scowled and he was mean, but he didn't smile. And yet, there he was, smiling at her. It wasn't a big smile; it wasn't even a noticeable smile unless you were looking for it. But she was definitely looking.

She spent the next two hours trying to get through her homework and not look at Draco Malfoy, but she didn't succeed. She had only managed to write three foot out of the eight that was due for her Arithmancy essay, and by dinnertime she was seriously beginning to hate spell construction.

She glanced at her watch and then began to pack up her things. Looking around the room, she realised that it had slowly emptied and she was left with only Madame Pince and Malfoy. She tried to control the blush in her cheeks as she looked him up and down when he stood up, but it didn't work. In fact, when it came to her control around Malfoy, nothing seemed to work.

Realising that she was likely to get caught staring at him again, she hurriedly picked up her bag and swung it around her shoulder, hurrying out the door. She was about half way down the hall when she was stopped by a voice. His voice.

"Ginny."

She turned around, not sure whether she should be more shocked by the fact that he had used her first name, or the fact that he was willingly talking to her in the first place.

"Draco," she said, hating the way her voice seemed to shudder when she spoke his name. She kept her chin up and her eyes focussed on his, hoping that he wouldn't comment on it. He didn't and instead, he held up a dark green notebook that she had scrawled her name on in silver ink.

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Draco:

"You certainly have good taste in colours," he added, raising an eyebrow when Ginny made no move to take the notebook.

Ginny swallowed. "Thanks," she finally managed to say, snatching it out of his hand as though it was a dragon's claw. "I'll just be going now," she said quickly, and turned away.

Draco watched her leave, a smirk on his face. He was beginning to enjoy winding the youngest Weasley up. She blushed very easily, he'd noticed. He was just about to turn away himself, when he heard her stop and say, "Don't think just because my notebook's green I have any inclination to liking Slytherins."

Draco smirked. "The thought never crossed my mind, Weasley." He turned then, and strode away, leaving Ginny to stare after him, and scowl in his direction.

He walked down the corridor happily. Today had been a good day. He'd got a Quidditch team together and practise was scheduled for tomorrow morning. He had interesting information about Potter and Granger to use against them, and he discovered that teasing Ginny Weasley was very rewarding. And, a little voice in his head added, it does help that she's pretty fit, and since staring at her seems to aggravate her, I'm not bothered.

As he entered the Common Room, Draco spotted Blaise, who waved him over. He changed direction and sat beside her on the two person green leather settee. "How's Quidditch going?" she asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Blaise had never been interested in Quidditch before. He decided to humour her. "I've managed to get a team together, that, if they work hard enough, will be able to play a decent match."

"I'm sure you'll have them fit as fiddles in no time," Blaise commented.

Draco glanced at her, his eyes narrowing and glittering coldly. Blaise shrank away slightly, but to her credit, didn't flinch. "Yes, no doubt I will," Draco finally said. He added quietly, "What's wrong with you?"

Blaise looked at him nervously. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't act all innocent with me, Blaise," Draco warned.

Blaise looked round carefully, and leaned in closer. "I need to talk to you."

Draco merely looked back at her. "So talk."

Blaise's jaw muscles twitched. "Not here," she hissed.

Draco sighed dramatically. "Fine, let's go to my room." Everyone thinks we're shagging, anyway.

He stood up and Blaise followed him gracefully. Draco noticed that all the senior boys were discretely glaring after him, but he ignored them as he led Blaise up the staircase to his room. He dropped his bag on the floor beside his desk, and turned to watch Blaise close the door behind her. He noticed that her clothes were not quite as tidy as usual, and her hair was somewhat messy. This was not the usual, composed Blaise standing in front of him.

"Draco," she started, making her way forward to stand in the centre of the room. "I…" She wrung her hands.

Draco leaned back against the desk, crossing his legs and putting his hands in his pockets. He studied Blaise, noting the bitten fingernails.

"My father wants to us marry," she finally said.

Draco shrugged. "That's hardly new news, Blaise."

"I know, but did you know that he wants us to marry at the end of the school year?" Blaise added. "And that your father approved it?"

"Yes, of course I did. My father told me before I left," Draco said.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?" Blaise asked, shocked.

Draco shrugged again. "I thought you knew."

"And you're okay with it?"

"No, but that's not the point. I wasn't going to tell my father that," Draco said.

"So what are we going to do?" Blaise demanded.

"I know what I'm going to do. What you do is your choice." Draco moved to pick up his bag and unpack it, thereby ending the conversation.

"Draco," Blaise said, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you going to turn away…" She didn't finish her sentence, but Draco knew what she was going to say. Are you going to turn away from the Dark Lord?

Draco turned slowly, and met Blaise's nervous eyes. "Are you?"

She faltered slightly, and then drew herself up and met his gaze square on. "I'll do whatever I believe necessary."

"As will I, Blaise." He turned away again and continued sorting out his notes.

"I'll see you later, then," Blaise said, and exited his room, not waiting for an answer, knowing that he wouldn't give one.

Once she'd left, Draco breathed a sigh of relief and sat down on his bed. This year was turning into a nightmare. Not only did he have to worry about the whole poxy Quidditch team, and the fact that Ginny Weasley was occupying more of his thoughts, but now he had Blaise to seriously worry about.

She had confirmed his suspicions, but he still didn't know whether she was actually considering changing her allegiances, and whether she was merely sounding him out. At least he didn't have to worry about passing his NEWTs. He knew he could easily get all fourteen of them without much work.

Sighing, Draco turned to look out the window high up in the wall. All he could see was sky, as his room was situated above the dungeons. Narrowing his eyes against the stream of light, Draco thought he saw a blur sweep past. Potter, he thought to himself. At least he didn't have to worry about him. Draco grinned. He was going to have fun teasing Potter about Granger.

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TBC…