Title: Scorching Malevolency
Pairing: Draco/Ginny
Author: Faerie Girl
Email: wildflowerfaeriehotmail.com
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Summary: Hatred burns one while attraction fuels the other. [One shot]
Eyes the shade of frost stared into those the hue of mahogany with a look of utter hatred. Hatred that burned so deep that it was like looking directly into the sun; searing one all the way to the soul. That look had made more than one capable person quake in their robes when seeing it directed their way.
The snipping comments of bitterness flowed from his lips with the ease of a graceful dancer performing in front of royalty. For some unknown reason he had decided to grace this minute girl with his vapid personality.
"You poor little Weasel. We could never be together. You're nothing much a rung above Muggle. Malfoys never go below our station." He taunted her for those things she could not control. Profundity was never a huge facet of his disposition.
"Oh Malfoy, I wouldn't be with you if the world was told to halt until I was yours. I would rather stop time and grow old alone than be in the same room with you." The youngest Weasley looked up into his characterless face. She would not show the mutilation those bile filled words caused; a Weasley was not weak, not matter what the bullying git in front of her thought.
"A Weasley would love to be a Malfoy; it's the only way one could climb into a higher station." Malfoy drawled in that cold voice all the students of Hogwarts had been forced to listen to for five long, chilly years. Years that seemed to be without warmth no matter the time of year, even in spring when the school was alive with hues of pastels. Ginny's year was intending to hold a party when he left - and warmth came back into the school's world.
"Now Malfoy, I wouldn't want to climb higher than my station would I?" Ginny smiled sweetly at him. "I mean you are the almighty Malfoy heir of Malfoy Manor. I could never be good enough for you." She placed her hands in front her like she had seen some supercilious 1950s Muggle women do when deferring to their male superiors.
"Of course you couldn't." Smiling smugly, it took a moment for her sudden transmutation to raise his suspicions. "What are you getting at?" Frost suddenly became less translucid instead turning a new hue reminding her of smoke swirling in those eyes, like smoke curling from a chimney against a winter day's sky.
"Oh, nothing: just simply stating the facts. Oh by the way, how is your father?" A look of concern on her face, she faked caring very well. Being taught by the twins had helped too. Teachers of innocent looks were never born better than those two. Duplicitous innocence was a key trade when fooling their dear gullible mother. Ginny had paid close intention; learning how to widen those pretty deep brown eyes when needed, smile when she wanted to look like the sinless baby of the family instead of a prankster like her brothers. Innocence could be manufactured.
His face went pale. "How dare you?" He scathingly hissed at her. No one talked of his father, especially not a peon like a Weasley. She was not at his level, never would be. That satisfied him until she opened her mouth to reply.
"I dare as much as you have asked about my father in the past, Draco dear." With a smile she left him standing there completely befuddled over the whole incident involving the diminutive minx.
Frost came back into his eyes, glaring against the heat of the sun. The sun melted frost in the normal world but in this one it only created a deeper hatred. No one said anything against a Malfoy; not even a Malfoy, and she certainly wasn't a Malfoy.