Jealousy is all the fun you think they had--Erica Jong, Fear of Flying, 1973
Just call me Cleopatra, everyone, 'cause I'm the queen of denial—Pam Tillis, 'Cleopatra, Queen of Denial'
Draco Malfoy watched the girl bounce into the library, her bag slung across her shoulder and the ever-present sappy romance novel in one hand. It was that walk that had first attracted Draco's attention to the girl as anything more than a recipient for his bullying and sarcastic remarks. He'd been sitting in the almost-empty library several months ago, bored nearly to tears, when the youngest Weasley had bounced in, her braid bobbing behind her, a small, secretive smile on her face. Draco had frowned, then he'd grinned. His intention had been to bother her, to insult her and maybe even make her run, crying, from the library.
Grinning again now, Draco remembered how surprised he'd been when she'd seemed more annoyed than insulted. The cheeky little twit had just sat there calmly debating the merit of her silly romances with him. Draco had actually been enjoying their conversation; even the way the girl had teased him about not knowing anything about how a lover would speak.
Even better, though, had been how Weasley had helped him play a trick on that silly bint Parkinson. She'd been brilliant. She hadn't panicked when Draco had pulled her to him and pressed their lips together. And she hadn't taken it wrong and formed a ridiculous crush on him. In fact, they'd been talking for almost six months (except for the month after the holidays) ,and Weasley was probably the best friend he'd ever had.
That made a significant statement about his housemate acquaintances. He had to admit, though, that neither Crabbe nor Goyle had ever really been more than his goons and bodyguards. They kowtowed to him and sucked up to him and generally made him want to spew.
Weasley, on the other hand, didn't give a damn about how much money he might have. She didn't care about how influential his family was; in fact, she had good reason to hate that family, himself included. She never failed to try to take him down a notch so he didn't 'think too much' of himself. Draco could only remember one time when he'd thought she might be falling for him, and when she'd found out, she'd laughed right in his face.
He watched as she made her way toward the rear of the library. Suddenly she glanced up and met his eyes. She smiled, that curious, sly, ready-for-mischief smile of hers that he'd grown used to. Damned if she shouldn't have been sorted into Slytherin, he thought as he returned the smile. She was sneaky enough. Unfortunately she had that disgusting streak of honor that would have prevented her from being ruthless enough to survive in his house.
Then she was gone, out of sight around the shelves. Draco frowned. In all the time they'd been talking, she'd never, even once, approached him. He always came to her first. Before the holidays, when they'd had that stupid argument (well, he amended with uncharacteristic honesty, after he'd lost his temper and blown up at her) Draco was sure she would come to him in righteous indignation and demand an apology, an explanation, or both. She hadn't. Instead, she'd stopped coming to the library. After the hols she'd seemed so damned pleased with herself, so smugly self-assured. She hadn't approached him then, either, because of the advice of the blasted coffee shop worker she seemed to keep sighing over now.
Finally, after almost a month, Draco had gone to her. Not that it was a big deal. He was going mad with no one normal to talk to. He'd grown used to laughing and joking with the youngest Weasley, and he was the first to admit that he didn't have the temperament or upbringing to deny himself what he wanted.
Now, however, it was becoming irritating. He was sitting right here, right in front of her! She saw him, but other than giving him that grin of hers, she had completely ignored him! Had that stupid git brother of hers finally succeeded in warning her off? Anger boiled inside Draco's chest at the thought of Ron Weasley telling his sister to stay away from him. It was too damned much.
Although he had already decided to ignore Weasley if she came to the library, Draco stuffed the papers he'd been looking over into his bag and was tracking her down before he even realized he'd stood.
Ginny glanced up as he approached. Smiling, she scooted over on the cushioned seat and patted the place beside her.
"So you're not doing homework after all?"
"Since when do I do homework in the library?" he practically growled.
"What crawled up your backside, Malfoy?" Ginny returned genially.
Malfoy wasn't the most rational person she knew, and his occasional unexplained outbursts were just something she'd gotten used to. She generally ignored them. Sometimes she would give him a hard time about it, or tease him, but it was often not worth the effort. She was still looking at him, noting the angry frown on his face as well as the tautness of his body. Something had pissed him off, and she wasn't really sure she wanted to know what it was. Then, as suddenly as it had started, his bad mood seemed to melt away.
"You know, brat," he said, "one of these days I'm going to finally scare you. Even if I have to make it my life's work to make you cower, you're going to!"
"In your dreams, Malfoy," Ginny quipped. "Want a chocolate frog?"
Sighing theatrically, Draco took the proffered sweet. "Even when I outright threaten you, you ignore me. You're hell on my ego, brat."
"And not so long ago you told me how good I was for your ego, didn't you?" she replied without missing a beat. "So, what were you doing if you weren't doing homework?"
"Nothing; just looking over some papers. You?"
"I should be doing homework," she admitted slyly. "But I found this book that I bought on holiday, and I decided to finally read it."
She flashed the bodice-ripper cover at him and opened it to her page.
"So, you get that at that stupid shop? Where that git worked?"
The girl turned a quizzical look at the handsome young man beside her. "Pardon?"
"I said, did you buy that book at that coffee shop where the stupid berk behind the counter was coming on to you?"
Ginny felt her eyebrows rise almost to her hair. She knew it was impossible, but Malfoy actually sounded jealous. With a small grin, she put a hand to her chest and tried to imitate his tone of voice.
"Good God, Malfoy, what was that look for?"
"What look?" Draco demanded.
She couldn't help it; she started giggling. "Th-that 'Oh, Ginny' look! I've n-never seen you l-look like th-that before!"
"What!?"
Draco shot up so fast, his bag went flying, scattering his papers all over the floor. Ginny was trying desperately to muffle her laughter, but the look on his face had been so funny, she was having a hard time.
"Oh, gods, that was great!" she burst out when he knelt to retrieve his papers. "Oh, lord, Malfoy! I have been waiting to get even with you for that for so long! That was perfect!"
Draco finally looked up, scowling. The girl was nearly bursting with the laughter she was trying to suppress. Finally, though, he saw the humor of the situation. With a disgruntled snort, he said, "Yeah, well, I live to amuse you, Weasley."
Ginny finally stifled her chuckles and jumped down to help him gather his papers. As he was stuffing the last into his bag, she placed a hand on his arm. He wondered at her sudden somber expression.
"Look, Malfoy," she said quietly. "Don't worry. I'm not about to go sweet on you, right? I like your company and all, but romance?" She shrugged, then grinned again. "Besides, I wouldn't want to be one of the 'unwanted masses', now would I?"
Draco looked at her hand resting on his arm. He decided at that moment that he had a big mouth.