Chapter Five- The Art of Seduction

"NO WAY IN HELL!" Ron stood up, his eyes throwing daggers at Draco. "Ginny is my sister you git! There's no way in hell I would ever help you in trying to seduce her." He shuddered before continuing. "What has gotten into you anyway Malfoy? How could you even think of trying to take advantage of her? She's not your type! She's a Weasley! W-E-A-S-L-Y."

"You forgot the second 'E,'" Harry muttered. Ron glared at him briefly before refocusing his wrath on Draco.

"However you spell it, you hate our family. Now I don't know why you'd be interested in her Malfoy..."

Draco raised his eyebrows and his thin lips curled into a devilish smirk. "Have you taken a look at her lately, Weasel? She's sure, err, 'matured.'"

Ignoring the comment, Ron continued his rant. "...but you stay away from her! We don't need your help, especially not at that price!"

Suddenly, two figures streaked past them in a flow of hideous skirts. The girls had emerged from their room, and were holding hands as they ran to the other side of the library. Ron frowned. "You have her almost as scared as Harry and I have Hermione! We don't want your crummy advice." He walked into the room and slammed the door. Harry and Draco continued to sit motionless, neither saying a word. Soon they heard the stream of the shower.

Harry finally broke the silence. "So, Malfoy, what do you want to know?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You're willing to sell out your best friends little sister? Potter, I'm impressed!"

Harry scoffed. "If you hadn't noticed, Ginny and I are not on the best of terms."

"Yeah, what's that all about?" Draco asked as he casually leaned back in his chair.

"I'm not here to pour my heart out to you, Malfoy. I'm here on purely business. I know everything about Ginny, more than I want to know, most likely even more than Ron knows. And I'm willing to exchange that information for some tips." He outstretched his hand. "So what do you say?"

"I never thought it would come to this, Potter," Draco grinned as he grabbed and shook Harry's hand. "But you have a deal."

Elsewhere in the library, Hermione and Ginny had finally stopped running, and were hiding behind one of the bookcases, panting. "Is it clear?" asked Ginny.

Hermione peered out into the room. "Ron's gone into the bathroom, and Draco and Harry are...shaking hands?"

Ginny slowly shook her head. "This is getting bad. There is sure something fishy going on here." Hermione nodded as she surveyed the library.

"Yeah, so let's get going. The sociology section used to be somewhere over there," she pointed to one end of the library, "but now is probably somewhere around here," she pointed to the opposite end. "So before you can start the research, you have to actually find the books."

"Plus," said Ginny, "you have to get going on your research, too. Remember- a way out of here? That should really be our first priority."

"I couldn't agree more. But to research wandless magic, I have to go over in that corner," Ginny's eyes followed her outstretched hand to an area that was as far away as possible from her section. "So that means that we have to split up. Are you going to be okay with that?"

Ginny took a deep breath, hiked up her skirts, and enthusiastically nodded her head, flinging her braids behind her neck. "Bring it on, I can take it!"

Glancing at where Harry and Draco conspired, Hermione smiled. "You may not need to worry about it, actually. It seems like they've cooled down a bit."

"Hermione," Ginny placed her hands on her friend's shoulders, "they're men. They'll never cool down."

"First of all, Potter, you need to work on your image."

Harry laughed. "Image? Do I need remind you that you're wearing a toga?"

Draco shook his head. "I have the body of a sex god, Potter, I can pull it off. You, on the other hand," he observed Harry.

The feeling that he had just made a deal with the devil grew inside Harry, and Draco's scrutiny made him even more uncomfortable. "Stop that, Malfoy. I wanted advice, not a makeover."

"Fair enough, you're hopeless on looks anyway," Draco vainly ran a hand through his silvery hair before continuing. "Okay, so tell me what, if anything, you have planned."

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, the bet is that I have to try to get her to kiss me. So I planned on making a few advances, getting her interested, and eventually forcing her to make the next move."

A pale eyebrow shot up on Draco's forehead. "It all sounds good, but how do you exactly plan on getting her interested?"

"That's what I came to you for, you bloody git!" Harry's dark hair fell into his eyes as he glared at Draco. He hurriedly pushed it back. "You're supposed to be giving me advice here!"

"Okay, okay," Draco leaned back in his chair and Harry adverted his eyes, lest the bed sheet spread apart and he learn a little more about Malfoy than he wished. "Well, you have to completely change your technique. First, apologize."

"Apologize?" asked Harry, "for what?"

"For attacking her of course! Apologize for making her uncomfortable, say that you're calling the bet off, and try to befriend her. Become interested in what she's doing, in the books she's reading- because Merlin knows she'll be reading- and make her once again feel comfortable in your presence."

Harry furrowed his brows and frowned. "But I don't want to call off the bet! I want to win!"

"Did I tell you to call off the bet? No! I simply told you to say that you were going to." Draco grinned as Harry's green eyes widened in realization.

"You know, Malfoy, that just may work, for starters at least. I think I'm going to try it out right now, but I'll come back for more advice if I need it." He stood, straightened his robes, and started to walk towards the corner in which Hermione was absorbed in a book entitled "Wandless Magic: Myth or Miracle?".

"Not so fast, Potter." Harry turned around to see Draco looking at him intently, his bare arms folded across his chest. "Quid pro quo."

"Oh, right," Harry once again took a seat and leaned over the table. "So, what do you want to know?"

Draco also leaned in, "What do you got?"

Harry thought for a moment before a devilish grin spread over his face. "Ginny Weasley- tough girl, won't take crap for anyone, very closed ever since the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, has had many boyfriends but few commitments. And her and I...let's just say that something happened between us that makes her despise men-especially me-more than ever. There's no way to get her to lighten up."

Draco frowned. "And this is supposed to help me how?"

The grin on Harry's face grew wider. "I'm getting there. Ginny's a callous girl, but there's one thing that will get to her, one thing that will cause her to totally let down all her defenses." He lowered his voice and commenced to explain the weaknesses of his best friend's sister to his worst enemy.

"Most wizards today contend that wandless magic is just a myth, but there is no solid evidence on either side. This is precisely what leads to its label as folklore: there is no empirical proof that wandless magic has ever been accomplished, only the testimonies of wizards."

Hermione sighed and set down the book. Now that wasn't encouraging at all. She looked around the library, over to Draco and Harry, who were still sitting across from each other, engrossed in conversation. She frowned. They had been enemies since their first year, and she couldn't understand how the circumstances- no matter how extreme- could force them to be cordial to each other. After a couple more minutes, they shook hands once more and stood. Draco walked off towards the sociology section, but Hermione was more worried with Harry's actions. He stretched, smoothed his hair, puffed out his chest, and started to head right towards her. Hermione ducked behind a bookcase and peered out, watching Harry advance. This wasn't good. He proceeded to get closer...closer...until he was within just a few feet of her. Hermione considered running to the other side of the library, but that would just make her look ridiculous. There was nowhere in this wretched place to hide. Harry stopped, grinned, and opened his mouth to speak. Much to Hermione's relief, he was interrupted before he even got a chance.

"Harry, your turn!" Ron- his face freshly scrubbed and his clothes hanging loosely on his body- stepped out of the bedroom. Harry turned to look at him, and then walked away without another glance at Hermione. She sighed in relief as he said a few words to Ron and then disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Ron looked at her, and for a minute Hermione was afraid that he would try to come over and talk. But he instead focused his attention on the bright red bag, rubbing his stomach as he took a seat. Hermione sat down, picked up the book, and continued to read, making sure to watch Ron out of the corner of her eye.

Ginny cursed to herself as she picked her way through what was supposed to be the sociology section. All the books were sprawled over the floor, not a single bookcase in the area left standing. "Just my luck, the one section I need is the one that's completely destroyed." Kneeling, she started to sort through the books, deeming it impossible to find any that pertained to personality traits in closed environments. Book after book was flung away and she was getting more frustrated by the minute. Suddenly, a different book was lowered in front of her face. It was strangely familiar, black with bright gold lettering that read, "101 Uses for your Wand..." Ginny shrieked at recognizing the title. She followed the book to the long, bare (and beautifully toned, she noted) arm up to the sheet-draped body that was bending over her, and finally the pale face, complete with devious smirk.

"So," Draco said as he kneeled next to Ginny and paged through the book, "wanna try? There's some interesting stuff in here."

Ginny scowled. "That's disgusting Malfoy. Believe me, if I had a wand, that," she pointed to the page Draco was opened to, "would be the last thing I'd do."

Draco looked keenly at the page, which just so happened to be illustrated. "Yeah, you're right, it does look a bit painful. I'll find a better one."

With another shriek, Ginny stood. Well, she at least tried to stand. The dress she was wearing was too large, and she tripped on the skirts. With a gasp, she braced herself for the fall...but it never came. Vaguely aware of her face being pressed against a white sheet, she opened her eyes. Her head was buried in Draco's chest, her hands braced against each of his arms, which were snaked around her waist. "Malfoy!" she screamed, pushing away, "get off me!"

Draco stepped back and observed her. Amusement danced in his icy eyes. "If my memory serves me, it was you who fell into me. I didn't take you to be the swooning type."

Without a word, Ginny gathered the layers of skirts in her hands and started to march away. But the dress prohibited her from moving fast, and before she knew it Draco had stepped in her path. "You know, Weaselette, that dress really has to go. It just doesn't suit you." His hands wandered from the too-long sleeves to the high neck. He leaned closer and spoke softly. "There's another sheet, you know. I could teach you how to make a toga if you'd like." His fingers brushed the thin line of skin exposed above the collar. Ginny froze, unable to decide if she should gasp in indignation at his insinuation or laugh at the absurdity of the pickup line. Unable to decide, she determined to simply push him away.

"Not on your life, Malfoy."

"C'mon, there's nothing else to do." He stepped closer once more, cupping her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. She scowled and looked like she was about to spit. "You give me no other choice, Weaselette," he said connivingly. He kept one hand forcibly holding her chin, and another ventured down to her waist. Draco frowned at the layers of cloth he found there, but determined that it should still work, if Harry's information proved to be correct.

"What the bloody hell do you think you are..." Ginny was cut off by a burst of laughter. Draco grinned- he had found his target. He once again ran the tips of his fingers against the small of her back, the exact point that Harry had told him Ginny was helplessly ticklish. And Potter wasn't kidding, either, Draco thought as her tense body relaxed and she leaned against him in a fit of laughter.

"Stop....Draco...don't...ahahaha!" Ginny gasped as she flung her arms around his neck to brace herself. Draco chuckled in amusement and stopped the motion. Ginny continued to smile, looking up at him and catching her breath. Before she could come to her senses, Draco leaned over and planted a firm kiss on her upturned lips.

Ginny didn't respond. But she didn't resist, either. Seeing this as a sign to go ahead, Draco tightened his grip and pressed his lips harder. Ginny's hands came up to his hair and she turned the strands around her fingers. Inwardly smirking, Draco congratulated himself on his victory. He let go of her chin, bringing the hand to join the other which was grasping her waist.

Suddenly, Ginny's grip tightened on his hair. He opened his eyes and looked into hers, which were staring with hatred. Before he could respond, she bit down on his lower lip, pulled his hair hard, and brought up her left knee. It found its mark- right between his legs. Groaning in pain, Draco released Ginny and she stepped away. She sneered as she observed him, doubled over in pain, a hint of blood forming on his lip, his perfect hair tousled and his scalp undoubtedly burning. She leaned over next to him, bringing her lips to her ear. "Never," she whispered through clenched teeth, "try that again." With that, Ginny stood, smoothed out her skirts, and performed a mocking curtsy before whisking away.

"While the rumors may not be substantiated with hard evidence, there are plenty of witness testimonies- so many to make it seem impossible that wandless magic is just a fairy tale. In fact, Sumedle VI, the famous wizard who defeated the rouge Nundu of 1577, claims to have used wandless magic on several occasions. See his memoirs for more information."

"Well, that's promising," Hermione said cheerfully as she set down the book. She had learned about Sumedle VI in History of Magic just a few weeks ago, and he was not only known or his great magical powers, but also for his ethical standards. He never hurt a creature unless to save the life of other wizards, he donated most of his fortune to charity, and he had a great reputation for being honest. Eager to find his memoirs, Hermione wondered where the History section was in the pile of rubble. She stood, but as soon as she looked up she found herself face to face with Harry Potter.

"Good morning, Hermione." For once, his jet-black hair was not sticking in every direction. Rather, it was plastered against his neck, still dripping with water. His face was bright and the distinctive smell of soap lingered in his body. He was wearing his pants and white shirt, his tie loosely hanging around his neck and his vest and cloak in hands. Hermione frowned to see that his shirt wasn't buttoned.

Harry noticed her scrutiny and started to button up his shirt. He smiled. "I was going to wash my clothes, but then I realized that I'd be stuck in a toga like Malfoy. So I guess I'm stuck with them." He eyed her. "By the way, nice dress."

Hermione blushed as she looked at the gray monstrosity on her body, but then scowled. "Harry, I have work to do." Before she could leave, Harry grabbed her hand.

"'Mione, wait." Hermione flung her body around, wrenching her hand from her grip. She scowled even deeper.

"Leave me alone, Harry. Just leave me alone."

Harry was genuinely hurt. This was one of his best friends, and she couldn't stand the touch of him. "Look," he began, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry. I really am. It was a silly bet between me and Ron."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "A bet?"

Harry cursed himself as he realized that she didn't know about the bet. "It doesn't matter," he said quickly, "I called it off. I just came over here to apologize to you. I'm sorry, I really am." It wasn't all a lie. Harry was truly sorry that she had upset her so much. But there was no way he'd call off the bet. Not only would that make Ron win (a notion that Harry couldn't stand), but it would also once again render him bored beyond belief. He shot Hermione an innocent smile, and while her disapproving frown didn't go away, it softened a bit.

"Harry," Hermione began, but was lost for words. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He brought his eyes to hers, and she faintly smiled. "Don't worry about it. Just promise me to never try anything like that again!"

Harry grinned. Hermione took the grin as smiling at his past stupidity and agreeing with her statement. "I promise," he said, the grin growing larger. Hermione gave him a friendly nod and walked away, in search of Sumedle's memoirs. Harry stayed in his place, watching her walk away. "Watch yourself, Hermione," he muttered with a smile. "This is only the beginning."