Title: Being Nice Doesn't Pay Off…

Author: Cactuskitty

Chapter: Nine

Disclaimer: I do not own anything/person/idea for the Harry Potter book series. **Yes MaluElvellon, that is part of a quote from you. ^__^

Chapter Nine: Debt

Draco could have grinned with delight when he received the crimson envelope from his newest Gryffindor adversary, but managed to control himself, because grinning wasn't his style. Instead, he casually pulled out his wand, cast an anti-curse charm, and opened his letter with as much apathy as he could muster.

     He read his note quietly, and found himself smirking as he reached the end. Hastily, he grabbed a piece of clean parchment and his writing utensils from his expensive dragon hide bag and started his reply.

 AUTOTEXTLIST Miss Weasley,

     I must say that I was near shocked by your cunning use of Spanish language. Though I must point out that your cleverness was very hard to decipher due to the repulsive pigeon-scratch you call handwriting. I suggest that you use a cleanliness charm to make your words a tad easier to read the next time you find yourself writing; it would do wonders for comprehension.

     I agree that boxing would be a splendid proposal, but I prefer to practice other forms of battle particularly more traditional styles. Forms your family would surely be unaware of, such as archery and fencing. Both of which I have mastered, thank you very much.

     Thank you for your concern regarding my welfare nonetheless. The proposal was more or less considerate. Truth be told, you were still able to harbor any empathy whatsoever. I presume I will presently have to stick around if I truly want to become familiar with you, won't I Weasley? Nevertheless that's all right. I'm willing to wait for you.

     I was aware of the truth you were insane long before any of that. The fact that you didn't find someone as attractive as I desirable only heightens that fact. But I wasn't aware that I am the leader of all Slytherins, is that true? Well, another boost for my ego.

     It's a tangled web we weave, Weasel. Your sorry attempt at retribution will never be a success until you find a flaw, something you're not quite clever enough to discover. It's nearly enough to make me feel sorry for you. Nearly. However, it's not enough to let you know what makes me tick.

            I presume I won't be the only one hanging around.

Cordially,

D.M.

     Virginia gazed up openmouthed at the black hawk owl that had just dropped the letter on her dinner plate; she immediately identified the sender as the youngest of the Malfoy clan. She turned leisurely, to look at the Slytherin table through narrowed eyes, glaring in what she hoped was a discreet manner. The sender seemed to be having what appeared to be a vivacious discussion and didn't appear to notice that his demon bird had wrecked both her meal and her favorite red shirt. She furrowed her brow, and turned back to her meal. Crossing her arms, she scowled at Malfoy's waiting bird.

     Her face reddened as she read the nuisance's letter.  It only took her a second to settle on her next move.

      Virginia waited the flaxen ferret glanced in her direction, a small sneer gracing his pale features, to ignite the note with icy blue flames that jetted from the end of her wand. When she caught a glimpse of the now bewildered look on Draco's face she smiled and dropped the remains of the scorched letter into her empty teacup. She then pulled out a scrap piece of parchment from her rucksack and started scribbling out a reply before his owl could fly away.

Senor Ferret,

     So, now you're eager to know me? Excuse me, but are you sure this is Draco Malfoy I am writing to? I was oblivious of the fact that you were an addict. It explains a lo

     Well, despite my immense concern for your well-being. (That was sarcasm, incase you were to stoned to catch it.) I am writing to inform you that you are in debt to me due to your satanic owl; you owe me a new shirt. Do you know how difficult it was to find a "oops, I killed a gang of ninjas" shirt? I had to mail twenty different stores that had the correct moving picture on it, and your devilish bird ruined it. Damn it Draco, I want a new one and you're going to buy it.

You owe me,

G.W.

P.S.: A good friend of mine once said, "**You just have to keep telling yourself that one day you'll be famous for your insanity. Goodness knows you might be."

     She glanced across the room, smirking slightly as she met Malfoy's stunned eyes. She raised an eyebrow, snorted softly, and then excused herself from the Gryffindor table, full of her stunned peers, and left the Great Hall as if she hadn't just provided the mornings excitement.

*       *       *       *

      Later that day, Ginny was in the library, buried behind a colossal pile of science fiction books. She resembled Hermione. Her favorite author, Philip Pullman, wrote most of them. He was well known for publishing his books in the muggle world as well as the magical one. This bred much resentment among many pureblood families, but Virginia didn't care. It was obvious that she appreciated his novels, because she was so consumed by her favorite, The Golden Compass, that she did not notice that a certain, quite unwelcome, intruder until he addressed her.

     "You'd think, that with all those books you were trying to break a record or something."

    Virginia responded without looking up from her book, "Well Harry, some people enjoy reading for pleasure. Right now it's one of the few things I get that feeling from." She sighed melodramatically, "But I suppose you didn't come all the way to the library to find out about my hobbies."

      "You're right." his reply, way soft and awkward.

     "So what do you want then?"

     "Oh, nothing really..." he started and was hastily cut off.

     "Harry," she glared, "we both know it had to be something far from nothing to drag you, of all people into the library." her words were fast and sharp, giving her the instant upper hand.

     He laughed nervously, and gracelessly rubbed the back of this neck as he replied to her snide comment, "I just wanted to know how you were holding out… You know, with all the shit that's been happening to lately…"

    Virginia forced a grin and placed a marker in her book, "Why?"

      "Why should I have reasons to find out how my…Err… acquaintance is holding out, and make sure she can still hold her head up, and isn't drowning."

     "We're on dry land Harry." She said sarcastically through clenched teeth.

     "I'm serious Gin."

     "So am I Harry." They glared at each other for a moment, then she continued, "In order to build a friendship, we should be honest with each other. So, stop beating around the bush and just ask me the bloody question."

      "What question?"

     "The one that's obviously stopping you from being reasonable." Virginia was loosing her patience.

      "I already asked you the 'bloody question,' you silly girl." It was becoming apparent that she wasn't the only one who was getting irritated, "What do you mean beating around the bush? You're the one who's not answering the question. Friends trust each other. You seemed to have forgotten that part of honesty, Virginia."

     "Fine, Harry, you're right." She replied with a brooding glare, she loathed defeat, "Then let's be honest. School sucks, my boyfriend dumped me, you three watch me like a hawk, Draco and I are playing a confusing game of chess, his owl wrecked my favorite shirt, and everyone thinks I'm insane, but other than all of that, life's been fan-bloody-tastic."

     "Wow."

     "Wow's right, Mr. Potter." With a note of finality in her voice she went back to her book.

     "How can I help?"

     The words surprised both of them, "Whoa-what?" she stuttered, and for once Harry had the upper hand.

     "How can I help?" he repeated, "I can't really help you with your boyfriend problems or your shirt… But I could try to get Ron to lay off you, help with some of your classes, or beat the bloody crap out of Malfoy…" You could tell which he hoped the most for, but he had asked earnestly nonetheless, and only gained more points by asking, "Will you let me help you?"

      She laughed, and pondered the suggestion for a moment then replied, "Thanks for the offer, but I can handle everything except for Ron, which is a problem I'll let you handle. Happy?"

     "Yes, utterly." He was now smiling whole-heartedly.

     "But first I get to ask you the questions." He nodded hesitantly and she continued, "Why do you want to help? What's in it for you?"

     "Because I'm trying to be a friend and you need it." Harry paused searching for an answer to the last part, "What's in it for me? Well, nothing I guess.

     Ginny's smile faded as she replied, "Well then I have to refuse."

     "Why?" he gasped.

     "It's very simple Harry, I don't take charity." She glanced at the dumbfounded hero, and started to explain apologetically,  "Harry, if you want to be my friend, that's fine, but I don't need your pity. Straighten out your reasons and come back to see me."

      His pointed eyes and furrowed brows made it obvious that he thought she was full of it, so she decided it was time to be a bit kinder, "Look, I see you are trying to get to know me. So next time I have an off day, let's say tomorrow, I'll seek you out. Sound good?  And then, the same goes for you, got it?"

     He paused for a moment pondering the idea, before responding, "Sure, just remember I'll always be there… Err… Okay?" She nodded, and found herself being enfolded in an awkward hug before she was once again free to read her book. Though, she was unable to even finish a page prior to being interrupted again.

      "I'm guessing you're a Philip Pullman fan." The tall blond in front of her smirked as her sat down next to her and perched his feet on one of her smaller stacks of books, "Dire hard muggle lover through and through…"

      "What in Merlin's name gave you that idea?" she answered his first question carelessly, without removing her eyes from The Golden Compass. Her lack of attention cast towards him annoyed him, and he quickly changed the subject.

     "Now, what's all this crap about owing you a shirt?"

A/N: I know this is mildly cruel, and don't fret… I shall update soon with the remainder of their conversation in the next chapter. ^__^ *Evil grin* Sorry that it took me so long to update, but I have been suffering from a huge case of writer's block when it comes to this story.

I don't mind helpful comments, spelling or grammar tidbits, or advice as to how I could better on this story. Just please don't accuse me of things without proof, or a good reason. Lol, and I don't get mad at flames; I just wish they could give me advice as how to improve. So please keep that in mind when you burn this crappy fic. ^__^ I also wanted to point out that I didn't mean to chew anyone out; I was just trying to clear my name.

Thanks to:

Random Artemis, for drawing pics for my story, you can access them on my review page and for being my beta! You rock! Thanks for all your comments and helpful ideas. If you look, you'll notice I used most of them.

All my reviewers, especially Not Telling for pointing out my spelling errors, you all rock my socks! And note that now all songs shall be sung! ^__^ My e-mail address is on my bio; you can send all lyrics there.