HARRY POTTER BE DAMNED!
Chapter 1
A/N: The ballots are in and you chose option number one a full out fic. So, I'm giving it to you. Make any and all suggestions you wish. Odds are 9 out of 10, I'll do it, cuz I honestly don't have a plan for this one. Fear not, though, this will go as fast, or as slow as any other fic I have. Some chapters I may give you choices for what happens, others I may just leave it up to you if you want to make a suggestion. I don't know.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters or anything like that, you know the deal. You could write this yourself.
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Ginny's POV
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I sit in the library making up words for an essay that would never have been able to do if it weren't for my formidable talent to bull shit. It's amazing how a few circuitous words and teachers think I've actually learned something. I wasn't about to complain though.
Then I see him enter. Tall, handsome, rich, and a total prat. A perfect dream until he speaks, which is what he is doing now. I watch him tell a first year Gryffindor something, with that sneer on, and watch as the poor kid goes ghastly pale and walks out as fast he can without actually running. I want to say something, but I wait for the perfect chance. I may be a Gryffindor, but I know how to handle certain situations, usually. Now he smirks, sits in the deserted seat, pushes the books left over to the other end of the table and puts his feet up, reclining in his chair with his hands behind his head and only the back legs holding him up. By now I feel quite indignant and get up from my seat. Slowly, I sneak up to him; quickly, I grab his ankles and let him and his chair fall to the floor.
"What the Hell!" he cries indignantly scrambling up to challenge me. His body guards haven't returned this year, rumor has it that they were too dumb to return, there were no doubts about that fact.
"You are a prefect and a seventh year! Slytherin be damned! You should know better than to treat a first year like that!"
"What?"
"You heard me!"
But only he squints at me. "You have as much sense as that narrow-minded brother of yours. For your information, Little Miss Know-It-All, I was told to let the kid know Snape wanted to see him, immediately, which would explain his incredible fear and speed quite well, don't you think?" he tells me crossing his arms with that horrible smirk, and I feel blush exploding onto my cheeks.
"Yes, well," I say, trying to hide my embarrassment with composure, "well, have a nice day, Malfoy." I smile and abruptly turn only to be spun around again to face him.
"There'll be a better chance of a good day, if I receive my well-deserved apology from a certain red-head."
"Certainly, I'll just go fetch my brother, then, shall I?" Once again I try to retreat. Once again I fail.
"Nope." he gives me a look that tells me that I've got the wrong Weasley and I grimace, and sigh through my nose.
"Fine, Malfoy. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have knocked you to the floor, even if it did feel really good and even if it was really, really funny, and I did really enjoy it thoroughly." I mumble looking at my shoes, hair covering my face and hands behind my back after he lets go of my arm when I relented. I imagine I must have looked much like a child just then. Later, I would be very disappointed in myself. He looks at me and shakes his head, and suddenly he looks very tired. I assume it's from the pressures of N.E.W.Ts and brush it aside and watch he picks up the chair and sits in it. I notice that his hair isn't slicked, he rarely bothers these days – I figure he has finally realized how pompous and terrible it really looks – and it falls into his face. His back is hunched, his head bowed, and he looks off. I almost feel sympathetic.
"Why are you still here?" he asks slowly, lifting his head at a pace that matches that of his question. His eyes have a look of anger and hate and it only succeeds in making me want to attempt to tip your chair over again. Remember, I only almost felt sympathetic.
"I'm hoping that I can rub off on you." I tell him dryly.
"Heaven forbid." I hear him mumble. "Go away!" he nearly barks at me.
"You're loss," and I go back to my essay. Not once did I look at him until I was finished, and once I do, I look up in his direction and he sits there still, looking at me. Immediately, I work on putting away my things. Just when I finish and put my essay into my bag I feel a presence next to me and tense. I only assume it's him and I'm correct. When I turn to face him he's staring as if he's studying me, and it's making me blush yet again.
"Malfoy, I don't know what it is you think you're doing, but it's extremely unnerving." he doesn't move though. He sits and watches me, still. "Malfoy, stop –" I say standing up and he does, he grabs my wrist and stops the studying. He looks at me and though it is a great deal better I'm still wary under his gray eyes. Until that is I actually look at them.
That was the first time I saw him. Not in the literal sense, of course, but I saw for the first time the possibility that maybe there was something more than I always did see. He looked at me as if he was fighting to say something. I wasn't going to destroy the moment. I didn't have to, he did it for me. Well, not 'destroy,' let's try, 'politely declined' the moment, because just as he took a deep breath, as if he would disclose something urgent, he sighed, and let my wrist go. Before I had a chance to ask what that was about I saw the end of his robes exiting out of the library after him. That was it. And it was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me, right up there with dairies with hidden memories.
I thought about it often after that and more and more it had me frowning constantly. I was always being pestered about what was troubling me and I couldn't tell anybody what had happened because I didn't understand it and I didn't feel right to let others know. I was barely able to concentrate on my studies. I'd look at him from my table at mealtimes and I'd pass him in the hallways and he never looked any different from what he always had been, and it confused the hell out of me.
One night, I went to the owlery to send a letter to Charlie before curfew. Sending Pig away with Charlie's letter I didn't want to go back to my dormitory. I didn't feel like it. So I just stood there a few minutes staring out into the night and ignoring the smell. It wasn't the right time to go out without getting caught, so I decided to leave and roam around the castle until it was time to go to the common room. Turning around I face an open door six feet in front of me, and a Malfoy three feet closer.
"Weasley." he acknowledges in that tone he reserves for me, any one of my brothers and Harry, Hermione has one all her own, under the "Muggle and Mudblood file."
"Malfoy." I find it appropriate to reflect his tone. He steps closer and I hold my ground. Does he think he's intimidating?
"What are you doing up here?"
"Well, seeing as this is an owlery, where students may send letters to family members and friends and whoever else may not be roaming the halls of Hogwarts, I'm baking a cake. Pineapple upside-down. Would you care for a piece?" I tell him sweet sarcasm wrapped around every word with bitter ties. I'm mad at him for causing me so much confusion, and for being on my mind so much. I'd try being nice and asking him if everything is all right and offering my support if it isn't, but it doesn't seem a tactic that would work on him.
"Your approach to sarcasm needs work. Keep it short and sweet, I always say." His tone is much too light and pompous for my taste, as if he's Percy giving me advice on studies. It serves to irk my nerves more.
"Appreciate it. They'll be bleeding and praising at my biting and witty repartees now. I'll be sure to thank you in my speech later."
I feel my muscles tense as he tsks and says, "You hear me, yet you still don't listen." I've had enough. I don't want to bother, because every moment I'm near him the urge to find out what happened in the library gets stronger and stronger and asking will only cause to be fruitless and irritating. I take a deep breath to calm myself, which never works anyway, and begin to make my way past him. Only I can't. He's stepped in my way, I step to the right, he steps to his left; I step to the left, he steps to his right. My hands are in fists and I'm calculating whether I can take him or not. Sure growing up with six older brothers – half of them burly – I could hold my own in a fight, but only on the defense, keep in mind I was still a small girl, 5'4" compared to this 6'2". I can see he's looking at me again. The same way he did in the library. Crescent moons are in my palms now. I can't hold back.
"What?" I ask him impatiently. "What do you want? Why do you look at me like that? Do you now what a nightmare you've been since the library? I keep asking myself what reason could you possibly have for that look and I've come up empty time and time again. If this is some plan to make me crazy, guess what? It worked! And you only had to do it once! Now leave me alone!" the words practically fall out in one breath and he looks mildly surprise, blinking twice.
"Virginia –" he starts, but I cut him off.
"Ginevra."
He's puzzled.
"If you're going for my real name, it's Ginevra."
"Is it really?" he sounds partially interested, but doesn't allow me to confirm. "In that case, Ginevra, tell me what you know about Fate."
"What?" I'm floored. Fate?
"Fate. Tell me what you know of it, or her if you prefer."
"Frankly, Malfoy, you're scaring me, and I would be very gratefully, if you were to look at me funny again. Or just let me pass. Or walk out yourself. Anything so long as you don't speak."
Instead of obeying my wishes – I only had a glimmer of hope he would anyway – he ignores my comment. "In truth, I don't really care I just thought it would be better to ask than to just come right out and tell you what I feel I must out of the blue. You'd think I was nutters then."
"Imagine that. Me thinking you weren't all there, really Malfoy, you should have more faith."
Once again, to him, I didn't say anything. "Ginevra, please allow me to escort you to Gryffindor Tower, whilst I tell you my story." He flourishes an arm signaling my allowance to pass.
"If this your biography, I'm running away now." I tell him in monotone, taking his offer.
And again, I am the muted Weasley, and I wonder if he just isn't deaf. "Well, it all started out when I was just a young Malfoy – "
"Oh Merlin!" I exclaim about to jet, unfortunately he is a seeker and with his seeker reflexes he grabs the back of my robes, before I can make my get away. After a few moments of struggling I dejectedly surrender and decide to listen.
"Keep it steady, Weasley, I was only tugging your chain." He smirks and I fight the urge to pout and cross my arms. "Anyway, during the summer I had my palm read. Silly really. Naturally, I was only doing it for a good laugh. This so-called 'Seer' 'saw' a woman in my future. A woman with blood in her hair and honey in her eyes. A woman with a secret in her soul and an empty hole in her heart with a reserved sign hanging over it. Of course, I laughed it off. That was the point after all wasn't it? A good laugh? Well then I come back to school and I'm in that nasty divinations class. I know, I know, ridiculous to pick it up in the first place, but it was easy enough at the time, so I thought. Well, anyhow, I was inside when we were doing something with strings and rocks I can't quite remember the name, and I don't care to, but once again the same girl came up. You know the one, with the blood and the honey and the secret and the reserved sign. Well, again I brushed it aside, having forgotten momentarily about my summer. Finally, about a month ago, I was awakened from a dream at 3:54 a.m. it was the same girl from both predictions that came back to me when I woke up. Well, that had me spooked in the sense that is all must mean something, but I had no idea who the girl was. Not until I saw you in the library. I wasn't sure, I'm still not sure, and I may have to Obliviate you later, but for now, what do you think?"
"Right now, I think you're a bloody awful storyteller. I nearly fell asleep halfway through."
"Come on Weasley, be serious."
"I am serious. I think you're a bloody awful storyteller, and a right lunatic."
"Come on, Weasley. Ginevra." He had stopped walking now, and I was a few steps ahead of him. "Ginny," his eyes were serious, as was his tone, "I – I think – I want you to rub off on me," there you have it in his own special Malfoy way, he was telling me he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I didn't know how to take that, at the time, I wasn't even sure what it meant. So I did what I could do. I made a getaway.
"Gryffindor Tower is right up the hall. I can make it from here. Thanks." Then I ran. I ran as fast as the legs on my 5'4" body would allow me in a mad dash for the Fat Lady. I didn't see how long he stood there or how he looked and later I wouldn't bother to ask.
()()()()
A/N: Alright, already for some constructive criticism. I don't know if it's all that great. I wrote most of it before the newspaper was delivered, in fact I did most of it before the sun went down, but I don't think it was bad. Although to me Draco does seem to have a lot of personality changes and mood swings. I think he's kinda charming that way. In the "I'm a lunatic love me, hold me, hug me," sense. Don't forget to review. And thank you to those who did vote I appreciate it greatly.
Chapter 1
A/N: The ballots are in and you chose option number one a full out fic. So, I'm giving it to you. Make any and all suggestions you wish. Odds are 9 out of 10, I'll do it, cuz I honestly don't have a plan for this one. Fear not, though, this will go as fast, or as slow as any other fic I have. Some chapters I may give you choices for what happens, others I may just leave it up to you if you want to make a suggestion. I don't know.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters or anything like that, you know the deal. You could write this yourself.
()()()()()()()
Ginny's POV
()()()()()()
I sit in the library making up words for an essay that would never have been able to do if it weren't for my formidable talent to bull shit. It's amazing how a few circuitous words and teachers think I've actually learned something. I wasn't about to complain though.
Then I see him enter. Tall, handsome, rich, and a total prat. A perfect dream until he speaks, which is what he is doing now. I watch him tell a first year Gryffindor something, with that sneer on, and watch as the poor kid goes ghastly pale and walks out as fast he can without actually running. I want to say something, but I wait for the perfect chance. I may be a Gryffindor, but I know how to handle certain situations, usually. Now he smirks, sits in the deserted seat, pushes the books left over to the other end of the table and puts his feet up, reclining in his chair with his hands behind his head and only the back legs holding him up. By now I feel quite indignant and get up from my seat. Slowly, I sneak up to him; quickly, I grab his ankles and let him and his chair fall to the floor.
"What the Hell!" he cries indignantly scrambling up to challenge me. His body guards haven't returned this year, rumor has it that they were too dumb to return, there were no doubts about that fact.
"You are a prefect and a seventh year! Slytherin be damned! You should know better than to treat a first year like that!"
"What?"
"You heard me!"
But only he squints at me. "You have as much sense as that narrow-minded brother of yours. For your information, Little Miss Know-It-All, I was told to let the kid know Snape wanted to see him, immediately, which would explain his incredible fear and speed quite well, don't you think?" he tells me crossing his arms with that horrible smirk, and I feel blush exploding onto my cheeks.
"Yes, well," I say, trying to hide my embarrassment with composure, "well, have a nice day, Malfoy." I smile and abruptly turn only to be spun around again to face him.
"There'll be a better chance of a good day, if I receive my well-deserved apology from a certain red-head."
"Certainly, I'll just go fetch my brother, then, shall I?" Once again I try to retreat. Once again I fail.
"Nope." he gives me a look that tells me that I've got the wrong Weasley and I grimace, and sigh through my nose.
"Fine, Malfoy. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have knocked you to the floor, even if it did feel really good and even if it was really, really funny, and I did really enjoy it thoroughly." I mumble looking at my shoes, hair covering my face and hands behind my back after he lets go of my arm when I relented. I imagine I must have looked much like a child just then. Later, I would be very disappointed in myself. He looks at me and shakes his head, and suddenly he looks very tired. I assume it's from the pressures of N.E.W.Ts and brush it aside and watch he picks up the chair and sits in it. I notice that his hair isn't slicked, he rarely bothers these days – I figure he has finally realized how pompous and terrible it really looks – and it falls into his face. His back is hunched, his head bowed, and he looks off. I almost feel sympathetic.
"Why are you still here?" he asks slowly, lifting his head at a pace that matches that of his question. His eyes have a look of anger and hate and it only succeeds in making me want to attempt to tip your chair over again. Remember, I only almost felt sympathetic.
"I'm hoping that I can rub off on you." I tell him dryly.
"Heaven forbid." I hear him mumble. "Go away!" he nearly barks at me.
"You're loss," and I go back to my essay. Not once did I look at him until I was finished, and once I do, I look up in his direction and he sits there still, looking at me. Immediately, I work on putting away my things. Just when I finish and put my essay into my bag I feel a presence next to me and tense. I only assume it's him and I'm correct. When I turn to face him he's staring as if he's studying me, and it's making me blush yet again.
"Malfoy, I don't know what it is you think you're doing, but it's extremely unnerving." he doesn't move though. He sits and watches me, still. "Malfoy, stop –" I say standing up and he does, he grabs my wrist and stops the studying. He looks at me and though it is a great deal better I'm still wary under his gray eyes. Until that is I actually look at them.
That was the first time I saw him. Not in the literal sense, of course, but I saw for the first time the possibility that maybe there was something more than I always did see. He looked at me as if he was fighting to say something. I wasn't going to destroy the moment. I didn't have to, he did it for me. Well, not 'destroy,' let's try, 'politely declined' the moment, because just as he took a deep breath, as if he would disclose something urgent, he sighed, and let my wrist go. Before I had a chance to ask what that was about I saw the end of his robes exiting out of the library after him. That was it. And it was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me, right up there with dairies with hidden memories.
I thought about it often after that and more and more it had me frowning constantly. I was always being pestered about what was troubling me and I couldn't tell anybody what had happened because I didn't understand it and I didn't feel right to let others know. I was barely able to concentrate on my studies. I'd look at him from my table at mealtimes and I'd pass him in the hallways and he never looked any different from what he always had been, and it confused the hell out of me.
One night, I went to the owlery to send a letter to Charlie before curfew. Sending Pig away with Charlie's letter I didn't want to go back to my dormitory. I didn't feel like it. So I just stood there a few minutes staring out into the night and ignoring the smell. It wasn't the right time to go out without getting caught, so I decided to leave and roam around the castle until it was time to go to the common room. Turning around I face an open door six feet in front of me, and a Malfoy three feet closer.
"Weasley." he acknowledges in that tone he reserves for me, any one of my brothers and Harry, Hermione has one all her own, under the "Muggle and Mudblood file."
"Malfoy." I find it appropriate to reflect his tone. He steps closer and I hold my ground. Does he think he's intimidating?
"What are you doing up here?"
"Well, seeing as this is an owlery, where students may send letters to family members and friends and whoever else may not be roaming the halls of Hogwarts, I'm baking a cake. Pineapple upside-down. Would you care for a piece?" I tell him sweet sarcasm wrapped around every word with bitter ties. I'm mad at him for causing me so much confusion, and for being on my mind so much. I'd try being nice and asking him if everything is all right and offering my support if it isn't, but it doesn't seem a tactic that would work on him.
"Your approach to sarcasm needs work. Keep it short and sweet, I always say." His tone is much too light and pompous for my taste, as if he's Percy giving me advice on studies. It serves to irk my nerves more.
"Appreciate it. They'll be bleeding and praising at my biting and witty repartees now. I'll be sure to thank you in my speech later."
I feel my muscles tense as he tsks and says, "You hear me, yet you still don't listen." I've had enough. I don't want to bother, because every moment I'm near him the urge to find out what happened in the library gets stronger and stronger and asking will only cause to be fruitless and irritating. I take a deep breath to calm myself, which never works anyway, and begin to make my way past him. Only I can't. He's stepped in my way, I step to the right, he steps to his left; I step to the left, he steps to his right. My hands are in fists and I'm calculating whether I can take him or not. Sure growing up with six older brothers – half of them burly – I could hold my own in a fight, but only on the defense, keep in mind I was still a small girl, 5'4" compared to this 6'2". I can see he's looking at me again. The same way he did in the library. Crescent moons are in my palms now. I can't hold back.
"What?" I ask him impatiently. "What do you want? Why do you look at me like that? Do you now what a nightmare you've been since the library? I keep asking myself what reason could you possibly have for that look and I've come up empty time and time again. If this is some plan to make me crazy, guess what? It worked! And you only had to do it once! Now leave me alone!" the words practically fall out in one breath and he looks mildly surprise, blinking twice.
"Virginia –" he starts, but I cut him off.
"Ginevra."
He's puzzled.
"If you're going for my real name, it's Ginevra."
"Is it really?" he sounds partially interested, but doesn't allow me to confirm. "In that case, Ginevra, tell me what you know about Fate."
"What?" I'm floored. Fate?
"Fate. Tell me what you know of it, or her if you prefer."
"Frankly, Malfoy, you're scaring me, and I would be very gratefully, if you were to look at me funny again. Or just let me pass. Or walk out yourself. Anything so long as you don't speak."
Instead of obeying my wishes – I only had a glimmer of hope he would anyway – he ignores my comment. "In truth, I don't really care I just thought it would be better to ask than to just come right out and tell you what I feel I must out of the blue. You'd think I was nutters then."
"Imagine that. Me thinking you weren't all there, really Malfoy, you should have more faith."
Once again, to him, I didn't say anything. "Ginevra, please allow me to escort you to Gryffindor Tower, whilst I tell you my story." He flourishes an arm signaling my allowance to pass.
"If this your biography, I'm running away now." I tell him in monotone, taking his offer.
And again, I am the muted Weasley, and I wonder if he just isn't deaf. "Well, it all started out when I was just a young Malfoy – "
"Oh Merlin!" I exclaim about to jet, unfortunately he is a seeker and with his seeker reflexes he grabs the back of my robes, before I can make my get away. After a few moments of struggling I dejectedly surrender and decide to listen.
"Keep it steady, Weasley, I was only tugging your chain." He smirks and I fight the urge to pout and cross my arms. "Anyway, during the summer I had my palm read. Silly really. Naturally, I was only doing it for a good laugh. This so-called 'Seer' 'saw' a woman in my future. A woman with blood in her hair and honey in her eyes. A woman with a secret in her soul and an empty hole in her heart with a reserved sign hanging over it. Of course, I laughed it off. That was the point after all wasn't it? A good laugh? Well then I come back to school and I'm in that nasty divinations class. I know, I know, ridiculous to pick it up in the first place, but it was easy enough at the time, so I thought. Well, anyhow, I was inside when we were doing something with strings and rocks I can't quite remember the name, and I don't care to, but once again the same girl came up. You know the one, with the blood and the honey and the secret and the reserved sign. Well, again I brushed it aside, having forgotten momentarily about my summer. Finally, about a month ago, I was awakened from a dream at 3:54 a.m. it was the same girl from both predictions that came back to me when I woke up. Well, that had me spooked in the sense that is all must mean something, but I had no idea who the girl was. Not until I saw you in the library. I wasn't sure, I'm still not sure, and I may have to Obliviate you later, but for now, what do you think?"
"Right now, I think you're a bloody awful storyteller. I nearly fell asleep halfway through."
"Come on Weasley, be serious."
"I am serious. I think you're a bloody awful storyteller, and a right lunatic."
"Come on, Weasley. Ginevra." He had stopped walking now, and I was a few steps ahead of him. "Ginny," his eyes were serious, as was his tone, "I – I think – I want you to rub off on me," there you have it in his own special Malfoy way, he was telling me he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I didn't know how to take that, at the time, I wasn't even sure what it meant. So I did what I could do. I made a getaway.
"Gryffindor Tower is right up the hall. I can make it from here. Thanks." Then I ran. I ran as fast as the legs on my 5'4" body would allow me in a mad dash for the Fat Lady. I didn't see how long he stood there or how he looked and later I wouldn't bother to ask.
()()()()
A/N: Alright, already for some constructive criticism. I don't know if it's all that great. I wrote most of it before the newspaper was delivered, in fact I did most of it before the sun went down, but I don't think it was bad. Although to me Draco does seem to have a lot of personality changes and mood swings. I think he's kinda charming that way. In the "I'm a lunatic love me, hold me, hug me," sense. Don't forget to review. And thank you to those who did vote I appreciate it greatly.