"Pass the muffins," Draco Malfoy said in a flat, angry tone. Pansy Parkinson giggled as a devastatingly handsome boy with dark curls and coal black eyes chucked a cornmeal muffin at the graceful blonde's head. Draco scowled a little more openly and dusted the crumbs out of his nearly-white hair. "Just pass the fucking basket, Zabini, and try your very best not to breathe too loudly, lest I hex you into next Thursday." Blaise Zabini chuckled deeply and handed over the basket of muffins.
"You're just sore because you owe me a pretty galleon over last night's game." The dark-haired boy crunched happily on a piece of bacon and grinned at his housemate. "Bitterness doesn't compliment your coloring, Malfoy."
"But it goes extremely well with his lineage," Pansy piped in, eliciting scowls from Draco and laughter from Blaise.
"I think, Pansy, that you may very well be the most attractive and intelligent woman in the room just now."
At the exact moment that Blaise uttered his praises, Pansy's eyes widened and her mouth went slightly slack. Recovering, she straightened up and pointed over Blaise's shoulder. "I think you may have spoken too soon," She said monotonously, causing both boys to turn and stare in the direction of her finger. Draco could barely believe his eyes. There, standing in the doorway, was the littlest Weasley, dressed to kill (or at least brutally torture in an all–too-pleasant way) as usual, and beside her was a tall brunette in a very attractive, very form-fitting outfit who looked almost like…
"Granger?" Blaise, who had spoken, looked as though he'd been hit across the face with a hard-back copy of Hogwarts: A History. Draco almost laughed at the other boy's expression, except he was too busy being stunned himself. He turned back to look at Granger, who seemed to be relishing in her housemates' compliments and exclamations.
"Looks as though Weasley's been giving out makeovers," Pansy remarked, an ironic tone to her voice. "I wonder how she resized the clothes… I've been searching for that spell… oh, for Merlin's sake!" Pansy leaned over the table and gave a sharp pull to each boy's hair. "It's not that spectacular!"
"Clearly, Pansy, you've never seen Granger before," Draco replied, turning to face his friend, "Because that definitely qualifies as spectacular."
"It's… unbelievable. She's actually… attractive. How did she do it?" Blaise asked, and all three returned their eyes to the Gryffindor table.
"I've got a better question," Pansy said, her voice once again a dull monotone, "Why did she do it?"
"Well? Did it work? Is he looking?" Ginny whispered to Hermione as the other girl reached across the table for the jam, aiming a clear view of her cleavage directly at the Slytherin table. Hermione looked around the room. Normally, she wouldn't have answered this question for fear of giving away too much information, but as nearly ever boy in the great hall was presently staring right down her shirt (girls too, for that matter, although most of their faces held slightly different expressions), Hermione decided that it couldn't hurt.
"Yes," She said without looking at her friend, "He's looking."
"And?" Ginny was raising her voice slightly, forgetting, in her excitement, that the cause of Hermione's makeover was to remain a complete secret. "Does he seem interested?"
Hermione tried to look at her target without actually looking at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the end of the Slytherin table where the seventh years sat. Yes: there he was, looking straight at her, a peculiar, lopsided expression on his face, muttering something that she couldn't quite make out to his friends. She felt her pulse quicken. He was definitely staring at her; he was definitely enthralled with the change in her appearance. "I'd say so."
"Ha!" Ginny smiled smugly. "I knew it! I knew it! You're hot, you're a knockout! Who wouldn't be interested?"
A horrible thought suddenly struck Hermione, one that hadn't occurred to her until that very moment. "Oh gods… what if he tries to talk to me?"
"Well? What if he does?"
Hermione frowned at her friend. "You say it like it's easy! I won't know what to do… I'll probably start quoting Hogwarts: A History and bore him to tears!"
Ginny shook her head. "No, you won't. You'll simply act like you don't particularly care to talk to him, and then make like you have better, more interesting places to be. Trust me, it'll drive him insane! You'll have him eating from the palm of your hand by sunset if you do."
"I highly doubt it."
Ginny sighed theatrically. "Look, 'Mione… I'm just taking a stab in the dark here, but… Is this guy, by any chance, popular among his housemates?"
"Ginny, I'm not giving you clues."
"I'm not asking for clues, I'm trying to help you design the rest of your plan. Is he?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, relatively."
"Is he handsome? Do girls love him?"
"Yes."
"Does he act like it's a huge chore just to give someone the time of day?"
At this, Hermione allowed herself a small laugh. "Only all the time."
Ginny nodded. "That's what I figured. Listen: guys like that only like girls who they think are challenging to get, and who treat them like garbage. The worse you treat him, the more interested he'll become, until you've driven him so crazy that he'll do anything to have you. Make him jealous. Make him want you so badly that he's willing to publicly humiliate himself, his family or his friends just to steal a single kiss. If you do, he'll be yours forever. Otherwise, you'll only get him for a night or two before he's on to someone else."
By this point, half the girls at Gryffindor table were leaning towards Ginny, listening in rapt silence, while the boys frowned disapprovingly. "You should start a business, Ginny: How to destroy the human male through reinvention of the personal identity." Seamus Finnigan, one of the only males at the table who didn't feel threatened at all by Ginny's terrifying dating advice, grinned dashingly at his best friend's ex-girl. "I could do your undercover work… just one of the boys… or is he?"
"Seamus, darling, you're hardly inconspicuous enough to do undercover work, not to mention acting like 'one of the boys'." Ginny reached over and tousled her friend's hair. "But you can be my fashion correspondent if you like."
"Queer pal for the straight gal," Hermione muttered, eliciting confused looks from her friends. "Muggle Televi—never mind." She pushed a chunk of cantaloupe around in the syrup on her plate. "Are you sure this whole acting aloof thing won't push him away or something?"
"Trust me," Ginny said sagely, "He'll be falling at your feet." The redhead got up from her seat. "Come on, let's go get our stuff for Hogsmeade… I can tell it's going to be a trip to remember." Hermione scowled at her friend and then followed her towards the door. Ginny had just slipped through the entrance to the hall, and Hermione was about to follow when she felt someone collide with her back.
"Hey, watch it!" She said, whipping around to face whoever had jostled her. "Don't you know how to walk?" She glared up at the rude individual and found herself faced with a pair of hopelessly cold and beautiful eyes. For a moment, Hermione forgot herself, and then she remembered Ginny's advice. "Oh," she said dismissively, "It's you."
The offender stared openly at her, quite obviously stymied. "Granger," he said lamely, "Aren't you just full of surprises."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione replied haughtily.
"Oh, come on, Granger… the outfit, the makeup, the attitude… playing dress-up in little Weasley's closet, were we?"
"There's more in my closet than you'll ever know about, thank you." Hermione was surprise at how easily the retort flowed from her lips.
"Not that I'd want to find out," He retorted with a defensive toss of his head. Then he looked her right in the eye; she was just an inch shy of his height. "You off to Hogsmeade today, Granger?"
Hermione cocked one freshly plucked eyebrow and stared right back at him. "Not that it's any concern of yours, but yes."
"Hm." He seemed to be mulling something over. "Maybe I'll see you, then."
"It's a regrettable probability." Hermione thought for a moment that she saw his mouth twitch up at the corners as he gestured towards the door.
"After you."
"Where were you?" Ginny asked as Hermione stepped gracefully through the portrait hole and into the common room.
"Here and there." Hermione had a small, silly grin on her face, and Ginny swooped down on her like a hawk.
"He talked to you, didn't he? He's already approached you! What did he say? What did you say?" Hermione laughed lightly.
"Calm down, Ginny. He bumped into me on my way out the door. It gave me the perfect opening for hostility, actually. It was… kind of fun, actually." Ginny practically squealed with excitement.
"I knew it, I knew it!" She crowed, dancing in a circle around Hermione. "I am the best! I am the greatest!"
"Well, I'd like to think that I had something to do with it," Hermione said, crossing her arms. Ginny nodded quickly.
"Well, of course. Of course you did. But I made this happen for you."
"Yes, you'll make a fine match maker. It's just unfortunate that arranged marriages are out of vogue this season."
Ginny was now perched on the back of an old wing-backed chair, and staring contemplatively at her best friend. "You know, I'm going to figure out who it is eventually…"
"No, Gin. I'm not telling you."
"Oh, come on!" Ginny moaned pathetically. "I did all this for you, and you can't even be bothered to tell me why? Some friend!"
"Gin…" Hermione sighed. "I just don't want it getting out. It's the last thing I need, especially now that things are going so well. And I know you… you like to meddle, and you'll act all stupid and make suggestive comments around him if you know who he is."
Ginny looked offended. "Me? Hermione, I can be as secretive as the next girl, you know that!"
"Yes, but knowing all the other girls I've known, I'd say that's not very secretive at all!" Ginny pouted.
"Please, 'Mione?" She hopped down from the chair back and approached her friend. "I just want to help you more. Please, just tell me. I swear I won't tell a soul, and I won't even blink twice at him if you do!"
Hermione sighed. "Fine… Oh, I can't! I can't just say it… it sounds so stupid! I've never said it out loud."
"Alright, then…" Ginny's eyes were glowing dangerously. "I'll guess!" She began to pace in front of Hermione. "Well, he must be a Slytherin, since you've been so ashamed and protective of this secret for so long…" Hermione nodded and cast her eyes towards the floor. "You said he's popular, and attractive and…" Ginny froze in place. "Oh. My God."
"What?" Hermione asked, slightly panicked.
"Oh my God," Ginny said, her face ghost white and her freckled standing out like ink sprayed carelessly across a sheet of parchment. "It's so obvious… It's Malfoy, isn't it?" For a moment, Hermione said nothing; she couldn't find the appropriate words. And then she burst out laughing.
"MALFOY?!" Hermione spat through her laughter. "Oh, Ginny, that's priceless! Malfoy… I mean, my god! Who would ever find that attractive? That's… ugh!"
Ginny slowly unfroze, a strange feeling of relief coursing through her body. I'm just so relieved that Hermione's not making such a horrible mistake, she told herself. "Who indeed," She said, joining in her friend's laughter. "You're right… that's disgusting. But then… who?" She began to pace again. "It's not Goyle…"
"NO."
"And I hope to god it's not Crabbe…"
"Lord no."
"But who?" Ginny threw her hands up. "There are so many of them!"
"Oh fine," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I'll tell you. You deserve it, after that!" She took a deep breath. "You have to promise not to laugh, or scream."
"I promise." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut.
"Zabini."
Ginny bit her lower lip, thinking. "Huh. Zabini…" She nodded slowly. "Yes… that makes sense." She grinned at Hermione. "Perfect sense, actually. He's cute. Well, he's gorgeous, actually."
"Ginny!"
"Well, I have eyes, Hermione!" Hermione blushed slightly, and Ginny laughed. "Don't worry, I won't try to steal him. He's not my type anyway."
"Gin, your type is anything that moves!"
"That's completely untrue," Ginny replied defensively, "I don't particularly fancy girls."
Hermione laughed and shook her head. "Come on, let's go, before I remember what trouble I've just gotten myself into by telling you that."
"Check it out, Zabini," Draco said, nodding at the window of the Three Broomsticks. "It's your girlfriend."
"I don't have a girlfriend, Malfoy," Blaise replied without looking. "Least of all who I think you're talking about."
"I saw you two," Draco said, a razor grin splitting his face in half. "You couldn't keep your eyes off her. You're whipped already, Zabini, and you don't even know it."
"I have never been, nor will I ever be, whipped," the dark-haired boy said, taking a swig of his butterbeer. "Especially not by Hermione Granger."
"Well, then you won't care that she and Weasel Minor just walked in and are heading this way." Blaise said nothing, but straightened in his seat. Draco chuckled. "Ah, Zabini, you're so predictable." The blond cleared his throat and craned his neck. "Weasle! Granger! If you're looking for seats, there are two over here." Blaise's eyes widened.
"What are you doing?" He hissed under his breath. "Are you mad?"
"Has there ever been a doubt in your mind?" Draco shot back, still looking after the two Gryffindors. Granger was avoiding his eye, but Weasley was staring straight at him. "Did you hear me, or has the Gryffindor foolishness clogged your ears as well as your brains? Sit down, the entire place is full. You won't find seats anywhere else.
"Sod off, Malfoy," The little Weasley said loudly and clearly. This seemed to increase Granger's confidence, as Malfoy saw her straighten up and begin to stalk towards them. Ginny, who had uttered the first contemptuous remark, was leading her. The girls sat down on the empty sides of the table. Draco motioned for Madame Rosmerta to bring over two more Butterbeers, and then he nodded at Hermione.
"I'll be damned, Granger, but you look good today. For a Mudblood, that is."
Ginny was about to start yelling when Hermione calmly interfered. "And you, Malfoy, you look stunning. For a corpse, that is."
Zabini sputtered, choking slightly on his Butterbeer. When he looked over at Hermione, it was with grudging respect. "I've wanted to say that to him for seven years."
Hermione allowed herself to smile. "Aren't you sorry I got there first."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Weasley," He muttered under his breath as Granger and Zabini continued their conversation, "Do you find this at all… grotesque?"
"Quite." Ginny sipped elegantly at her drink and then furrowed her brow and glanced at Draco out of the corner of her eye. "Why in the name of all hell would you ever invite us over here to sit with you?"
"It was a favor to a friend," Draco said, already hating himself for it. "A random attack of kindness that never should have occurred."
"What do you mean?" Ginny said, voice still low. Draco shook his head. Not now, He mouthed, causing Ginny to glare at him. He rolled his eyes, sighed theatrically and stood up, pulling her with him.
"Hey! Ow, what do you think you're…"
"Shut up," Draco hissed, and for a moment Ginny was genuinely shocked into silence. "Excuse us," He said to Hermione and Blaise, who were too immersed in witty repartee to even respond past casual waves of the hand. He dragged Ginny around the corner and into the entryway to the washrooms.
"What?" Ginny snapped when they were out of earshot. "What is your problem, Malfoy?"
"Listen," He said angrily, "I'm not any more fond of talking to you than you are of talking to me. But we have a situation on our hands, and I think we need to deal with that."
Ginny nodded slowly. "Hermione and Zabini. What do you expect to do about it, exactly?"
"It's not like there's much I can do." Draco sighed. "He like her. It's ridiculous, really… they're total opposites, but ever since this morning's little make-over reveal, he's been lost in space. It's not like Blaise to act like this, and from what I can tell, this new outfit and attitude isn't exactly like Granger either."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "No… but what was I supposed to do. She came to me practically begging for help in getting this 'mystery guy', and I had to help her, she's my best friend, and I can't believe I'm telling you this, but she really likes him, and if you tell her I told you that I will shove my fist so far up your arse that you will be able to lick the dirt out from under my fingernails." Draco, for once, was silenced. "She really likes him. I don't know what else to say. And it's not as though it's an unfounded attraction… he's good looking, not without his charms, somewhat less annoying than the average Slytherin, and probably has a big--"
"Alright, that'll do," Malfoy said, squeezing his eyes shut and holding up a hand. "We all know the many charms of Blaise Zabini, no need to list them all." He raised a clenched fist to his face and rubbed at the bridge of his nose with the first knuckle of his middle finger. "And, for what it's worth, I think he likes her too. I mean, she's always been very clever, and now, let's face it, she's attractive to boot. Zabini always goes for the intellectuals. But Granger…"
"Careful," Ginny said, a slight growl in her voice, "Granger happens to be my best friend."
"I'm not trying to…" Draco rubbed even harder at the bridge of his nose. "This was a mistake. Talking to you was a mistake. You can go."
"What if I don't want to?" Ginny said lamely, unable to think of a better, more contrary response.
"Then stay, bloody hell, I don't care!" There was the finger, rubbing away again at the slight bump on the bridge of his nose. Ginny frowned.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Rub at your nose like that? It's annoying." Without realizing she was doing it, Ginny reached towards his hand and attempted to bring it away from his face, only to have her wrist grabbed.
"You don't touch a Malfoy without permission," Draco said quietly, sounding almost tired. "And you don't have permission."
"Sorry," Ginny said roughly, pulling her arm away. "God. You don't have to be so touchy."
"Don't touch me and I won't be."
"Fine."
"Fine." Draco stared at Ginny, jaw set. "So are you just going to stand there all day?"
"No," Ginny said haughtily, "But you can, for all I care. I'm leaving, and I'm taking Hermione. You Slytherins are impossible, and if your friend back there is anything like you, than Hermione would be better off with a Dementor!" Ginny stormed off before Draco could reply. As for the Slytherin, he sighed angrily and began to rub at his nose again. That is, until he heard angry footsteps approaching. His hand flew to his side, and he leaned casually against the wall, assuming a position of extreme cool.
"What, back so soon, Weasley? Couldn't get enough of me?"
Ginny looked as though she was going to vomit. "Sitting across the Great Hall from you three times a day is enough of you. No, I just came to tell you that, while we were wasting time, they left."
"They what?"
"They left, Malfoy. That means that, unless we can find them, I have to walk back to the castle with you." Ginny looked as miserable as Draco felt. He shook his head.
"Uhn-uh, No. I'm not going anywhere with you. We'll walk back by ourselves."
"Alone, in the same place at the same time and going the same direction?"
"Yes." Draco knew it was ridiculous, but he did not want to spend any more time with the littlest Weasley than he already had. In the time space of about fifteen minutes, she'd bested him more times than he cared to count. To tell the truth, he was floored and frightened by this tiny ball of energy. She had fire, and not the cool, controlled flame that he had always kept inside him, but an untamed, reckless burning that threatened to spill over into him at any time. It was disconcerting that a Weasley have so much power, and it made Draco uneasy. She made Draco uneasy. Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned to walk away again.
"Fine," she said coolly, "Have it your way, Malfoy."
"Where are we?" Hermione asked, stumbling over the uneven ground. "Do you even know where you're going?"
"Of course I do," Blaise replied. "Have a little faith, Granger."
"I have plenty of faith, just not in your sense of direction. Or you."
"That hurts." Blaise chuckled deeply. "Here we are."
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "It's an ivy covered wall," she observed flatly. "Oh. How nice."
Blaise turned around and fixed her with a sarcastic smirk. "Not exactly," he replied, pushing at the ivy. There, behind the vines, was a tiny door, just about the right height for Professor Flitwick. "We found this place in third year, around Christmastime. The snow had weighted down the vines and Draco caught sight of the lock."
"What were you doing off the path in the first place," Hermione said, the Head Girl in her taking over automatically. "You could have been hurt."
"Well, obviously we weren't too badly injured, or else I wouldn't be back here now, would I? We were having a snowball fight, Draco, Pansy and I, and we bumped right into it. We've fixed it up, over the years. It's actually quite roomy inside… come in."
Hermione crouched down as far as she could and followed Blaise through the door. Once inside, she looked around. It was just like a little cottage, only without any windows. Everything was decorated in a deep green, except for the walls, which had been painted black. "Very Slytherin," She remarked, running her hand over the arm of a green armchair. "But also very nice."
"Well, not everything Slytherin is a complete waste of space, you know."
Blaise was standing right in front of her, looking into her eyes. Hermione could feel his breath on her forehead. He was breathing very hard. "What's the matter, Zabini," She said, somehow forcing her voice to stay level, "Did the walk tire you out." He continued to stare into her eyes.
"You're something, Hermione Granger," He said softly. "I don't know what, exactly, but something." Hermione caught her breath. He leaned closer to her, so that his dark curls brushed against her cheeks. "I'm going to kiss you," He said. Hermione shook her head.
"No," she replied softly, "I'm going to kiss you."
And she did.
"I think you're lost."
Draco clenched his teeth and kept walking. "I am not lost."
"We passed that tree ten minutes ago. You're lost."
Draco stopped in his tracks and whirled around, causing Weasley to almost bump into him. "I'm not lost, Weasley, and even if I was, you'd be lost too."
"Well then, it looks like we're lost."
Draco felt like growling. "We're not anything!" He said angrily. "You got it? I am lost, and you are lost. WE are not lost."
"So you admit it… you're lost."
Draco stood still for a moment, silently stewing in rage and then turned around and kept walking. He walked for about a minute before he realized that the annoying sound of little girly footsteps wasn't following him. He stopped and turned around. There was Weasley, standing in the exact same spot as before, staring after him. Draco sighed, and started back down the path towards her.
"Why aren't you walking?"
"You won't get un-lost by walking in circles," Ginny replied. Draco rolled his eyes.
"You won't get un-lost by standing still, either. And un-lost isn't even a word!"
"Well then, what are we trying to get?"
Draco thought for a moment. "Found?"
Ginny shook her head. "No-one's looking for us. You can't get found, you have to be found." Draco laughed ironically.
"You've been hanging around Granger too much," He said. "You've quite obviously rubbed off on her, and I think she's beginning to rub off on you."
Ginny shrugged. "It happens. But I still don't know where we are."
"I think I saw a fork in the road a few minutes back that way," Draco said, suddenly remembering. "If we try taking that, maybe we'll get back." Ginny shrugged.
"Worth a try."
They walked in silence for a few moments, until they reached the fork in the road. Draco turned and cast a fleeting look at Ginny, who seemed determined to continue on. Her jaw was set, and her green eyes were narrowed with determination. Draco couldn't decide what she was more determined to do: find her way back, or ignore him, but it didn't seem to matter, since it appeared she was hell-bent on doing both. Draco quickly turned his eyes back to the road ahead of him. "This looks familiar," He said after a few minutes.
"Yeah," Ginny replied. "I can't believe you missed."
"We missed it."
He heard an ironic little laugh from behind him, and unconsciously slowed his step so that they were walking side by side. "What? What's so funny?"
"Oh, nothing." Ginny laughed again. Draco began to pound the path with his feet instead of simply walking.
"I'm not in the mood, Weasley, so you'd best be telling me."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "It nothing. It's just, I thought we were traveling separately, and yet you just said that WE missed the path." She laughed again. "You were so adament about it, I thought you would have kept it up for at least fifteen minutes."
Draco narrowed his eyes and continued to stomp. "Whatever, Weasley." Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Oh, don't be such a child! I don't care… why should you? Can't we just stop playing with semantics and just enjoy the walk?"
Draco shrugged. "Fine. I don't care."
"Good." Ginny was wearing a self-satisfied smile, and Draco couldn't help but sneak a look at her out of the corner of his eye. "Because we're here."
Draco turned his eyes to the path ahead and saw the castle gates looming about a hundred yards away. He felt an unexplainable feeling of disappointment at having already reached the castle. When they had reached the gates, Draco stopped and turned to Ginny.
"Well," He said flatly. "We're here." He extended his hand. "Thank you for a most excruciating afternoon, Weasley."
"Oh, you're welcome," Ginny said, eyes twinkling. She grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. "Any time."
Thanks for the read-age. Let me know what you think! -N