Chapter Seven: Surprise, Surprise
"Miss Weasley," said the stern Professor of Transfiguration, "it appears you're being called to Professor Lupin's office." She peered at Ginny through her spectacles as she folded up a note that had been delivered by one of the school owls.
"Professor Lupin?" Ginny asked, looking up from her notes.
"Yes," answered McGonagall, looking a bit annoyed that her class had been disrupted. "Immediately."
Ginny gave fellow classmate, Colin Creevey, a questioning look, who gave her a shrug in response. With a puzzled look, she gathered up her things and stepped outside of the classroom towards Lupin's office.
She was surprised to see not the Professor, but Harry inside.
"Wha — Harry?" gasped Ginny, as he stood up from his seat and greeted her. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you," he explained, but Ginny still regarded him suspiciously.
"You could've done that after class," she said. She felt anger rush through her and did her best to control it. She didn't know why, but lately Harry's presence bothered her.
"Well — yeah," he admitted, and she was glad to see him looking embarrassed about it. "But it's kind of urgent."
"What's so urgent then?"
Harry chose that moment to become very interested in his shoes.
"Harry?" Ginny said, feeling very annoyed by him just then.
"Is something going on between you and Malfoy?" he blurted out suddenly. Ginny looked at him in surprise, before suddenly doubling over in laughter.
"You — you think," she choked as she tried to gather up the words. "Me and — and Malfoy?" She clutched at her sides as she laughed again. It took her a moment to settle down, and she had to lean against the wall to support herself. "Goodness, Harry, whatever gave you that idea?"
"Well — Dobby," Harry told her, and brandished out a letter with tiny, child-like handwriting. "He wrote to me and told me you and Malfoy were at the kitchens together."
Ginny bit her lip as laughter threatened to overcome her again. "You're nutters," she said, her voice shaking with stifled laughter.
Harry's brows pushed together as he suddenly looked very annoyed. "Ginny, I'm asking you seriously."
"Oh, Harry, of course nothing's going on!" she said, still chuckling. "And you're nutters for thinking so." She took the letter from Harry's hand and ran her eyes over it. "All Dobby said was that we were eating together — you came all the way over here because of that?"
Harry shifted around uncomfortably. "Well that and the way you were when we found him."
"Harry — I've been that way to everybody," she told him.
"But never Malfoy," said Harry.
"Honestly Harry," said Ginny lightly, "did Ron put you up to this?"
"No," Harry muttered, tilting his head down. "I was worried."
Ginny sighed. "I can take care of myself," she said firmly. Honestly, why do they always treat me like a baby?
"Yeah but — Ginny, I still care about you," he said, taking a step towards her. "You're practically my little sister," he said, and held up a hand to cup her cheek.
Ginny gave him a blank look. "I don't need you to look after me," she said through gritted teeth. He couldn't see that she had balled her fists up in controlled anger. "I've got enough older brothers breathing down my neck without you to come saving the day." She tore away from him and backed toward the door.
"Ginny," said Harry, looking at her with concern. "What's going on?"
Ginny laughed harshly. "That's just it, Harry," she told him, shaking her head. "You never knew. You never bothered to find out." Her hand searched for the doorknob behind her as Harry took another step towards her. "You're not my brother, Harry. You're not my father, or my boyfriend. Stop acting like you are." She shut the door firmly behind her, and walked back to her class with a smug smile on her face. She finally said what she wanted to, when she wanted to.
She was halfway back to the Transfiguration's class, when she stopped dead. She stood in silence for a moment, as a sudden idea flashed through her mind. Without giving it a second thought, she turned a corner and headed towards the Hospital Wing.
* * *
Never, in the countless times Draco had been there, had he known how dead boring the Hospital Wing was. Madam Pomphrey constantly badgered him to take an awful-tasting serum for his headaches. It was all he could do to fight her. He'd rather suffer with migraines than take that crap.
Professor Snape still hadn't returned. It had been two days since Draco had been there, and he dangerously close to losing his patience. He only put up with it all to speak with Snape. He had finally resigned to talk to the Potions Master about his dreams. Perhaps the man had some sort of potion to get rid of them.
Draco's ears pricked up as he heard footsteps coming towards him.
"I don't care how well it works," he shouted, "I'm not taking it."
He was surprised to see, when the curtains were pulled back, not Madam Pomphrey, but Ginny Weasley. He stared.
"Don't you have a class?"
Ginny's cheeks gave her away, as they suddenly became flushed with red.
"Is there some reason you're here?" Draco pursued.
Ginny met his gray eyes with her own golden-brown. She was obviously pissed about something. When she spoke, her voice dripped with icy venom — a tone Draco had never heard on anyone other than a Malfoy.
"Harry's such a git."
Draco's brows shot up in surprise. The girl actually meant it. She was practically fuming at the ears. The tips of his mouth quirked up as Ginny took a seat beside him.
Finally, they had something in common to talk about.
* * *
"She hates me."
"What?"
"She hates me," Harry said again, looking gloomily at the kitchen table of his friends' flat. Ron, who sat opposite Harry, regarded him for a few moments before finally saying, "You're nutters."
Harry glanced up at his best friend. After a few seconds, his gaze drooped back to the table with a look of utter defeat. "Yeah, she said that too."
Ron let out an exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes at Harry. "You git, why would she hate you?"
"She practically told me to stay away from her," muttered Harry glumly.
"So? She tells us all that at least twice a day."
"Not like this," said Harry. Ginny's harsh words still rung in his ears. He had left Hogwarts, feeling like he had just hit the ultimate low, and traveled on to his best friends' apartment for comfort. Ron and Hermione had rented an apartment just outside the busy village of Hogsmeade, and Harry — feeling quite lonely when Sirius was off working at the Ministry — was a frequent visitor. The contrast of his friends' personalities were quite obvious, once you'd taken a look around the flat. There were shelves and shelves stocked with books, all looking thick and quite boring, and Quidditch posters (mostly of the Chudley Cannons) plastered over every wall.
It was apparent, by the look in the couple's eyes when they saw him, that they had not expected him to be back so soon — or looking so downcast.
"You're overreacting," assured Hermione, who put her Teaching Transfiguration For Dummies book down to pat Harry gently on the shoulder. "I'm sure Ginny didn't mean it. You know how rash Wea — Ginny is." She flashed Ron an innocent smile as he eyed her threateningly.
"You guys weren't there," Harry told them, and began to pick at a burnt spot on the table. "She told me to stop acting like I'm her brother, or her dad, or — or her boyfriend."
The way Ron and Hermione suddenly looked away caught Harry's attention.
"What?"
"Well," Hermione started, ignoring the fact that Ron was shooting daggars at her in warning. "The truth is, Harry, you have been acting that way for the past few months."
"What? I can't be worried about her?" asked Harry indignantly.
"It's not that," Ron said, carefully avoiding Harry's piercing glare. "It's just that — well — you've only started acting like you care..."
"Harry," said Hermione, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly as she spoke, "put yourself in Ginny's shoes. All those years she's been in love with you, how happy she was when you two started dating, then to have you push her away?"
"I," Harry began in defense, then sighed in defeat. "I didn't mean to."
"We know you didn't," soothed Hermione, taking Harry in her arms in a motherly way. "You just have to realize how hard it is for Ginny, to have you suddenly care for her when you didn't for so long."
"I did care for her," said Harry, eyes welling up in guilt.
"But you never let her know that," whispered Ron, who suddenly looked distant and far off. Hermione gave him a watchful glance, and opened her mouth to say something, when a large brown owl suddenly swooped in to drop a letter in front of them.
Hermione took it in her hands, and gaped as she stared at the names printed across it.
"Harry," she whispered, breathlessly. "It's from Snape."
* * *
"He's clueless, arrogant, and what is up with his hair?" ranted Ginny, as she was practically willing the sheets of Draco's bed to catch fire through her glare.
"Hear, hear," responded Draco, grinning happily as Ginny continued on.
"What's his problem anyway?" said Ginny. "I mean, how dare he act like that! He treats me like I'm still 11! I'm 17!"
She growled and threw a punch to a pillow Draco had given her to control to her anger. He watched on in amusement. Ginny, he learned, was full of emotions that she kept bottled up. She had quite the right hook, too.
"It's not fair," Ginny sighed, suddenly looking very tired. She slumped into the seat beside Draco's bed, carrying the pillow with her to caress it gently. Draco was strongly reminded of a young toddler getting touchy about cookies before supper time.
Tears began to well up in Ginny's eyes, and try as she might to hide them, Draco had already seen. He shifted around in his bed uncomfortably, not knowing how to handle a crying woman.
No one had ever really cried in front of him. Malfoys always seemed to radiate this "I'm cold and unmerciful" aura that generally warded people off.
But here was Ginny Weasley — the only daughter of one of his father's biggest enemies — crying. If he were any less of a man, he'd've taken advantage of her vulnerability. But he admired how she was not openly sobbing — bawling like a banshee like how he imagined Pansy Parkinson would. No, she wept silently. The tightness of her grip on the pillow told Draco that she was doing her best to contain her tears. He was impressed, and Draco Malfoy hardly got impressed. Ginny was just full of surprises.
"Why are men such prats?" said Ginny suddenly, her eyes red and swollen from her tears.
Draco looked at the ceiling thoughtfully, before answering, "Men are complicated creatures." He paused. "Actually — no, we aren't. We're quite simple really. Give a man a pint and a woman, and he'll be as merry as... a man with a pint and a woman."
Ginny let out a groan in disgust and tore her eyes away. Draco grinned.
"Not all men are bad."
Ginny snorted. "You're telling me that all men aren't bad?"
"Ah — yes, well," said Draco, "I've got an excuse for being the way I was."
"And other men don't?"
"No," Draco answered simply. "See, men like Potter have gotten used to thinking the world doesn't turn unless they're there to give it a nice spin. I, on the other hand, am a fully-rounded human being, with a degree from the University of Life, a diploma from the Academy of Hard Knocks, and three gold stars from the School of Getting the Shit Kicked Out of Me."
Ginny chuckled slightly, and regarded Draco for a while. "So you're really not the 'bad guy' people think you are."
"Oh no, I am," Draco assured. "But now you know why." He offered her a small smile, which — surprisingly — she returned.
"Why do you hate Harry so much?" she asked suddenly, catching Draco off-guard.
"Well — why do you?"
"I don't hate Harry," Ginny said indignantly.
"Could've fooled me," said Draco.
"A lot of things do," quipped Ginny, feeling her anger turn to Draco. She held her stand as Draco gave her a cold look — though it only lasted for a moment as he suddenl gave her a grin.
"Why'd you come here?" he said.
Ginny blinked at him. He couldn't be that thick. "Huh?"
"Why, of all people, do you come to me? Don't you have any Gryffindors to talk to about this? I hear Hufflepuffs are great listeners," he said, smiling at his own joke.
"Everybody adores Harry," Ginny said, looking down at her hands.
"In other words," said Draco loudly, "you just want to talk to someone who hates the prat as much as you do."
"I don't hate Har — " She sighed loudly in exasperation. "Fine!" she shouted, jumping up from her seat. "I don't know why I bothered to go to a Slytherin anyway!" She marched out of the Infirmary, her flaming red hair suddenly emphasizing how angry she was.
Lovely.
Draco cursed silently. When will he ever learn to keep his fat mouth shut?
"Ah — Mr. Malfoy." Madam Pomphrey had just walked in, having no clue that Ginny had been there not so long ago. "You'll be pleased to know that Professor Snape has returned — " But that was all she could say, for Draco was already halfway out the door.
* * *
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, was all Ginny could say to herself. She hid away in her dorm, mentally scolding herself for being stupid enough to think Draco would understand. No one would understand how she felt about Harry. No one knew Harry like she did. She couldn't very well go to Hermione or Ron — they were his two best friends. Going to her mother was pointless — the woman adored Harry! Everyone did. He's the perfect guy: sweet, polite, sensitive, and caring.
And maybe he was. But Ginny never knew that Harry. At least not when they were dating.
She buried herself underneath her covers, closing the drapes that hung around her four-poster bed. The rest of the dorm's residents were still in class — where Ginny should be. The only sound heard was of Ginny's sobs, muffled against her pillow.
Tom was right.
She would always be alone.
* * *
"He wants to see me," read Harry, clutching the letter like it was a grenade. He looked up to see identical shocked looks on his friends' faces. It was Ron who spoke first.
"Why?"
"It doesn't say," said Harry, flipping the letter over and over. "Just says, 'come to Hogwarts immediately'."
"We're going with you," Ron said immediately, jumping up from his seat. Harry grinned inwardly — he honestly wouldn't've had it any other way.
"Goodness, this can't be good," Hermione thought aloud, gathering up her things as she prepared to leave with them as well. "I'd been in that school for months as a teacher's aide and not once has he spoken to me."
"He hated you," Ron explained, smirking uncharacteristically.
"Oh, and I suppose he loved Harry?" quipped Hermione. She and Ron proceeded to stick their tongues out in a childish fashion while Harry watched on in amusement. "But even still!" continued Hermione, turning away from Ron, "I was part of the staff — an equal. He doesn't say "hi" or "hello" or "nice brew" or anything!"
Harry gave Ron a blank look, who simply rolled his eyes and said, "She's appointed herself the official tea-maker of the staff lounge." Harry nodded understandably and turned back to the hot-tempered Hermione.
"Let's just get to the point and say he's a git," said Ron lazily, instantly receiving a cold glare from Hermione.
"Alright, so what would the git want with me?" wondered Harry, and both Ron and Hermione shrugged.
"We won't know til we get there, will we?" said Hermione, and proceeded to shove the two men out the door.
* * *
"What the — ?"
Draco stood frozen at the door of Snape's office, which held, not only the Potions Master, but Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.
"Ah, just the man we wanted to see," said Dumbledore cheerfully. He sat at Snape's desk, with Snape and Harry sitting opposite him on tall black chairs. "Take a seat, Mr. Malfoy." He waved his hand in the air, creating another black chair to instantly appear.
Right next to Harry.
Draco and Harry eyed each other with a similar look of disgust. Whose face showed more hatred for the other, was unknown.
"But if standing is more comfortable for you," said Dumbledore, the slightest hint of impatience in his tone. Reluctantly, Draco sat down, as far away from Harry as possible without actually falling off.
"Wonderful," said Dumbledore, smiling at them all. Draco eyed Snape through the corner of his eye. He was sitting at Harry's other side, and neither men looked happy about that either.
"Before we start," said Dumbledore, "would anyone care for a tartlet?" He magicked a tray of delicious-looking pastries to appear before them, and motioned for them to try some as he sampled a pink one with a strong fragrance of strawberry. "No?" said Dumbledore, as the other three men looked at him like he was daft. "Perhaps later." He cleared his throat, and suddenly looked very serious.
"Professor Snape, as I'm sure Draco was aware of," began Dumbledore, and Draco happily noted that Dumbledore had referred to him by his first name. Take that, he called to Potter, who was watching Dumbledore with rapt attention, "had been gone for a couple of days. He has just returned, with some rather interesting news."
Draco tore his eyes away from the old Headmaster to peer at his favorite Professor. Snape's face was formed into his usual scowl, but his eyes lacked it's usual mad glint. They were completely hooded over, hiding all the world's secrets inside their dark depths.
Draco furrowed his brows at the man, who merely continued to stare back at him. Then, he saw the man incline his head in the slightest of ways. Draco's brows shot up.
"No," Draco whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. But the dark look on Snape only confirmed his suspicions.
The Potions Master opened his mouth, and revealed everything that Draco had never wanted to know.
----------
"a fully-rounded human being, with a degree from the University of Life, a diploma from the Academy of Hard Knocks, and three gold stars from the School of Getting the Shit Kicked Out of Me" is an altered quote from Blackadder, and the "whose face showed more hatred for the other" line was inspired by JKR's description of Snape and Sirius' meeting in PoA.
Chapter Eight; Ron suspects, Draco's drunk (again), and something's wrong with Ginny.
Thanks to Elle Deni Minaty and wolviesrogue for the nice reviews. ^^; I'm glad someone likes it.
"Miss Weasley," said the stern Professor of Transfiguration, "it appears you're being called to Professor Lupin's office." She peered at Ginny through her spectacles as she folded up a note that had been delivered by one of the school owls.
"Professor Lupin?" Ginny asked, looking up from her notes.
"Yes," answered McGonagall, looking a bit annoyed that her class had been disrupted. "Immediately."
Ginny gave fellow classmate, Colin Creevey, a questioning look, who gave her a shrug in response. With a puzzled look, she gathered up her things and stepped outside of the classroom towards Lupin's office.
She was surprised to see not the Professor, but Harry inside.
"Wha — Harry?" gasped Ginny, as he stood up from his seat and greeted her. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you," he explained, but Ginny still regarded him suspiciously.
"You could've done that after class," she said. She felt anger rush through her and did her best to control it. She didn't know why, but lately Harry's presence bothered her.
"Well — yeah," he admitted, and she was glad to see him looking embarrassed about it. "But it's kind of urgent."
"What's so urgent then?"
Harry chose that moment to become very interested in his shoes.
"Harry?" Ginny said, feeling very annoyed by him just then.
"Is something going on between you and Malfoy?" he blurted out suddenly. Ginny looked at him in surprise, before suddenly doubling over in laughter.
"You — you think," she choked as she tried to gather up the words. "Me and — and Malfoy?" She clutched at her sides as she laughed again. It took her a moment to settle down, and she had to lean against the wall to support herself. "Goodness, Harry, whatever gave you that idea?"
"Well — Dobby," Harry told her, and brandished out a letter with tiny, child-like handwriting. "He wrote to me and told me you and Malfoy were at the kitchens together."
Ginny bit her lip as laughter threatened to overcome her again. "You're nutters," she said, her voice shaking with stifled laughter.
Harry's brows pushed together as he suddenly looked very annoyed. "Ginny, I'm asking you seriously."
"Oh, Harry, of course nothing's going on!" she said, still chuckling. "And you're nutters for thinking so." She took the letter from Harry's hand and ran her eyes over it. "All Dobby said was that we were eating together — you came all the way over here because of that?"
Harry shifted around uncomfortably. "Well that and the way you were when we found him."
"Harry — I've been that way to everybody," she told him.
"But never Malfoy," said Harry.
"Honestly Harry," said Ginny lightly, "did Ron put you up to this?"
"No," Harry muttered, tilting his head down. "I was worried."
Ginny sighed. "I can take care of myself," she said firmly. Honestly, why do they always treat me like a baby?
"Yeah but — Ginny, I still care about you," he said, taking a step towards her. "You're practically my little sister," he said, and held up a hand to cup her cheek.
Ginny gave him a blank look. "I don't need you to look after me," she said through gritted teeth. He couldn't see that she had balled her fists up in controlled anger. "I've got enough older brothers breathing down my neck without you to come saving the day." She tore away from him and backed toward the door.
"Ginny," said Harry, looking at her with concern. "What's going on?"
Ginny laughed harshly. "That's just it, Harry," she told him, shaking her head. "You never knew. You never bothered to find out." Her hand searched for the doorknob behind her as Harry took another step towards her. "You're not my brother, Harry. You're not my father, or my boyfriend. Stop acting like you are." She shut the door firmly behind her, and walked back to her class with a smug smile on her face. She finally said what she wanted to, when she wanted to.
She was halfway back to the Transfiguration's class, when she stopped dead. She stood in silence for a moment, as a sudden idea flashed through her mind. Without giving it a second thought, she turned a corner and headed towards the Hospital Wing.
Never, in the countless times Draco had been there, had he known how dead boring the Hospital Wing was. Madam Pomphrey constantly badgered him to take an awful-tasting serum for his headaches. It was all he could do to fight her. He'd rather suffer with migraines than take that crap.
Professor Snape still hadn't returned. It had been two days since Draco had been there, and he dangerously close to losing his patience. He only put up with it all to speak with Snape. He had finally resigned to talk to the Potions Master about his dreams. Perhaps the man had some sort of potion to get rid of them.
Draco's ears pricked up as he heard footsteps coming towards him.
"I don't care how well it works," he shouted, "I'm not taking it."
He was surprised to see, when the curtains were pulled back, not Madam Pomphrey, but Ginny Weasley. He stared.
"Don't you have a class?"
Ginny's cheeks gave her away, as they suddenly became flushed with red.
"Is there some reason you're here?" Draco pursued.
Ginny met his gray eyes with her own golden-brown. She was obviously pissed about something. When she spoke, her voice dripped with icy venom — a tone Draco had never heard on anyone other than a Malfoy.
"Harry's such a git."
Draco's brows shot up in surprise. The girl actually meant it. She was practically fuming at the ears. The tips of his mouth quirked up as Ginny took a seat beside him.
Finally, they had something in common to talk about.
"She hates me."
"What?"
"She hates me," Harry said again, looking gloomily at the kitchen table of his friends' flat. Ron, who sat opposite Harry, regarded him for a few moments before finally saying, "You're nutters."
Harry glanced up at his best friend. After a few seconds, his gaze drooped back to the table with a look of utter defeat. "Yeah, she said that too."
Ron let out an exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes at Harry. "You git, why would she hate you?"
"She practically told me to stay away from her," muttered Harry glumly.
"So? She tells us all that at least twice a day."
"Not like this," said Harry. Ginny's harsh words still rung in his ears. He had left Hogwarts, feeling like he had just hit the ultimate low, and traveled on to his best friends' apartment for comfort. Ron and Hermione had rented an apartment just outside the busy village of Hogsmeade, and Harry — feeling quite lonely when Sirius was off working at the Ministry — was a frequent visitor. The contrast of his friends' personalities were quite obvious, once you'd taken a look around the flat. There were shelves and shelves stocked with books, all looking thick and quite boring, and Quidditch posters (mostly of the Chudley Cannons) plastered over every wall.
It was apparent, by the look in the couple's eyes when they saw him, that they had not expected him to be back so soon — or looking so downcast.
"You're overreacting," assured Hermione, who put her Teaching Transfiguration For Dummies book down to pat Harry gently on the shoulder. "I'm sure Ginny didn't mean it. You know how rash Wea — Ginny is." She flashed Ron an innocent smile as he eyed her threateningly.
"You guys weren't there," Harry told them, and began to pick at a burnt spot on the table. "She told me to stop acting like I'm her brother, or her dad, or — or her boyfriend."
The way Ron and Hermione suddenly looked away caught Harry's attention.
"What?"
"Well," Hermione started, ignoring the fact that Ron was shooting daggars at her in warning. "The truth is, Harry, you have been acting that way for the past few months."
"What? I can't be worried about her?" asked Harry indignantly.
"It's not that," Ron said, carefully avoiding Harry's piercing glare. "It's just that — well — you've only started acting like you care..."
"Harry," said Hermione, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly as she spoke, "put yourself in Ginny's shoes. All those years she's been in love with you, how happy she was when you two started dating, then to have you push her away?"
"I," Harry began in defense, then sighed in defeat. "I didn't mean to."
"We know you didn't," soothed Hermione, taking Harry in her arms in a motherly way. "You just have to realize how hard it is for Ginny, to have you suddenly care for her when you didn't for so long."
"I did care for her," said Harry, eyes welling up in guilt.
"But you never let her know that," whispered Ron, who suddenly looked distant and far off. Hermione gave him a watchful glance, and opened her mouth to say something, when a large brown owl suddenly swooped in to drop a letter in front of them.
Hermione took it in her hands, and gaped as she stared at the names printed across it.
"Harry," she whispered, breathlessly. "It's from Snape."
"He's clueless, arrogant, and what is up with his hair?" ranted Ginny, as she was practically willing the sheets of Draco's bed to catch fire through her glare.
"Hear, hear," responded Draco, grinning happily as Ginny continued on.
"What's his problem anyway?" said Ginny. "I mean, how dare he act like that! He treats me like I'm still 11! I'm 17!"
She growled and threw a punch to a pillow Draco had given her to control to her anger. He watched on in amusement. Ginny, he learned, was full of emotions that she kept bottled up. She had quite the right hook, too.
"It's not fair," Ginny sighed, suddenly looking very tired. She slumped into the seat beside Draco's bed, carrying the pillow with her to caress it gently. Draco was strongly reminded of a young toddler getting touchy about cookies before supper time.
Tears began to well up in Ginny's eyes, and try as she might to hide them, Draco had already seen. He shifted around in his bed uncomfortably, not knowing how to handle a crying woman.
No one had ever really cried in front of him. Malfoys always seemed to radiate this "I'm cold and unmerciful" aura that generally warded people off.
But here was Ginny Weasley — the only daughter of one of his father's biggest enemies — crying. If he were any less of a man, he'd've taken advantage of her vulnerability. But he admired how she was not openly sobbing — bawling like a banshee like how he imagined Pansy Parkinson would. No, she wept silently. The tightness of her grip on the pillow told Draco that she was doing her best to contain her tears. He was impressed, and Draco Malfoy hardly got impressed. Ginny was just full of surprises.
"Why are men such prats?" said Ginny suddenly, her eyes red and swollen from her tears.
Draco looked at the ceiling thoughtfully, before answering, "Men are complicated creatures." He paused. "Actually — no, we aren't. We're quite simple really. Give a man a pint and a woman, and he'll be as merry as... a man with a pint and a woman."
Ginny let out a groan in disgust and tore her eyes away. Draco grinned.
"Not all men are bad."
Ginny snorted. "You're telling me that all men aren't bad?"
"Ah — yes, well," said Draco, "I've got an excuse for being the way I was."
"And other men don't?"
"No," Draco answered simply. "See, men like Potter have gotten used to thinking the world doesn't turn unless they're there to give it a nice spin. I, on the other hand, am a fully-rounded human being, with a degree from the University of Life, a diploma from the Academy of Hard Knocks, and three gold stars from the School of Getting the Shit Kicked Out of Me."
Ginny chuckled slightly, and regarded Draco for a while. "So you're really not the 'bad guy' people think you are."
"Oh no, I am," Draco assured. "But now you know why." He offered her a small smile, which — surprisingly — she returned.
"Why do you hate Harry so much?" she asked suddenly, catching Draco off-guard.
"Well — why do you?"
"I don't hate Harry," Ginny said indignantly.
"Could've fooled me," said Draco.
"A lot of things do," quipped Ginny, feeling her anger turn to Draco. She held her stand as Draco gave her a cold look — though it only lasted for a moment as he suddenl gave her a grin.
"Why'd you come here?" he said.
Ginny blinked at him. He couldn't be that thick. "Huh?"
"Why, of all people, do you come to me? Don't you have any Gryffindors to talk to about this? I hear Hufflepuffs are great listeners," he said, smiling at his own joke.
"Everybody adores Harry," Ginny said, looking down at her hands.
"In other words," said Draco loudly, "you just want to talk to someone who hates the prat as much as you do."
"I don't hate Har — " She sighed loudly in exasperation. "Fine!" she shouted, jumping up from her seat. "I don't know why I bothered to go to a Slytherin anyway!" She marched out of the Infirmary, her flaming red hair suddenly emphasizing how angry she was.
Lovely.
Draco cursed silently. When will he ever learn to keep his fat mouth shut?
"Ah — Mr. Malfoy." Madam Pomphrey had just walked in, having no clue that Ginny had been there not so long ago. "You'll be pleased to know that Professor Snape has returned — " But that was all she could say, for Draco was already halfway out the door.
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, was all Ginny could say to herself. She hid away in her dorm, mentally scolding herself for being stupid enough to think Draco would understand. No one would understand how she felt about Harry. No one knew Harry like she did. She couldn't very well go to Hermione or Ron — they were his two best friends. Going to her mother was pointless — the woman adored Harry! Everyone did. He's the perfect guy: sweet, polite, sensitive, and caring.
And maybe he was. But Ginny never knew that Harry. At least not when they were dating.
She buried herself underneath her covers, closing the drapes that hung around her four-poster bed. The rest of the dorm's residents were still in class — where Ginny should be. The only sound heard was of Ginny's sobs, muffled against her pillow.
Tom was right.
She would always be alone.
"He wants to see me," read Harry, clutching the letter like it was a grenade. He looked up to see identical shocked looks on his friends' faces. It was Ron who spoke first.
"Why?"
"It doesn't say," said Harry, flipping the letter over and over. "Just says, 'come to Hogwarts immediately'."
"We're going with you," Ron said immediately, jumping up from his seat. Harry grinned inwardly — he honestly wouldn't've had it any other way.
"Goodness, this can't be good," Hermione thought aloud, gathering up her things as she prepared to leave with them as well. "I'd been in that school for months as a teacher's aide and not once has he spoken to me."
"He hated you," Ron explained, smirking uncharacteristically.
"Oh, and I suppose he loved Harry?" quipped Hermione. She and Ron proceeded to stick their tongues out in a childish fashion while Harry watched on in amusement. "But even still!" continued Hermione, turning away from Ron, "I was part of the staff — an equal. He doesn't say "hi" or "hello" or "nice brew" or anything!"
Harry gave Ron a blank look, who simply rolled his eyes and said, "She's appointed herself the official tea-maker of the staff lounge." Harry nodded understandably and turned back to the hot-tempered Hermione.
"Let's just get to the point and say he's a git," said Ron lazily, instantly receiving a cold glare from Hermione.
"Alright, so what would the git want with me?" wondered Harry, and both Ron and Hermione shrugged.
"We won't know til we get there, will we?" said Hermione, and proceeded to shove the two men out the door.
"What the — ?"
Draco stood frozen at the door of Snape's office, which held, not only the Potions Master, but Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.
"Ah, just the man we wanted to see," said Dumbledore cheerfully. He sat at Snape's desk, with Snape and Harry sitting opposite him on tall black chairs. "Take a seat, Mr. Malfoy." He waved his hand in the air, creating another black chair to instantly appear.
Right next to Harry.
Draco and Harry eyed each other with a similar look of disgust. Whose face showed more hatred for the other, was unknown.
"But if standing is more comfortable for you," said Dumbledore, the slightest hint of impatience in his tone. Reluctantly, Draco sat down, as far away from Harry as possible without actually falling off.
"Wonderful," said Dumbledore, smiling at them all. Draco eyed Snape through the corner of his eye. He was sitting at Harry's other side, and neither men looked happy about that either.
"Before we start," said Dumbledore, "would anyone care for a tartlet?" He magicked a tray of delicious-looking pastries to appear before them, and motioned for them to try some as he sampled a pink one with a strong fragrance of strawberry. "No?" said Dumbledore, as the other three men looked at him like he was daft. "Perhaps later." He cleared his throat, and suddenly looked very serious.
"Professor Snape, as I'm sure Draco was aware of," began Dumbledore, and Draco happily noted that Dumbledore had referred to him by his first name. Take that, he called to Potter, who was watching Dumbledore with rapt attention, "had been gone for a couple of days. He has just returned, with some rather interesting news."
Draco tore his eyes away from the old Headmaster to peer at his favorite Professor. Snape's face was formed into his usual scowl, but his eyes lacked it's usual mad glint. They were completely hooded over, hiding all the world's secrets inside their dark depths.
Draco furrowed his brows at the man, who merely continued to stare back at him. Then, he saw the man incline his head in the slightest of ways. Draco's brows shot up.
"No," Draco whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. But the dark look on Snape only confirmed his suspicions.
The Potions Master opened his mouth, and revealed everything that Draco had never wanted to know.
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"a fully-rounded human being, with a degree from the University of Life, a diploma from the Academy of Hard Knocks, and three gold stars from the School of Getting the Shit Kicked Out of Me" is an altered quote from Blackadder, and the "whose face showed more hatred for the other" line was inspired by JKR's description of Snape and Sirius' meeting in PoA.
Chapter Eight; Ron suspects, Draco's drunk (again), and something's wrong with Ginny.
Thanks to Elle Deni Minaty and wolviesrogue for the nice reviews. ^^; I'm glad someone likes it.