THE CRY OF HOMEWORK
CHAPTER 5
"Great idea! Didn't you learn anything from Ron? You have to think before you act!" Ginny thinks aloud as she wanders through the halls before classes, experiencing a sense of déjà vu. Her feet take her past the portrait of the Fat Lady just as Ron is exiting – for he has forgotten his potions text and wouldn't dare enter Snapes classroom without it. Though Ginny's feet – and the rest of her body – is in front of the Gryffindor common room her mind is twenty minutes or so behind on a certain Slytherin who shouldn't be anywhere near her thoughts.
"Ginny!" Ron calls taking notice of her, "I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to talk to you about Malfoy." Ginny spins aroung at her name being called and hopes she doesn't look as guilty as she feels. Ron can't read minds, she repeatedly reminds herself.
"Wh-what about him?" Ginny inquires, scratching her ear lobe.
"Harry told me last night that he saw you and him alone outsdie. Some sort of 'Prefect's discussion?'"
"Yes, Ron, for I am – to my knowledge, at least – a Prefect, as is Dr-ay- Malfoy." Ginny finishes blinking rapidly.
Ron squints at her. "You were going to call him Draco, weren't you?"
Ginny's cheeks pinked from her being caught, but she wasn't going down without a fight. "Why would I call him Draco? His name's Malfoy, isn't it? The name by which we call him? Because we surely wouldn't call him Weasley [here she giggles nervously]. Because you know he's a Malfoy." she finishes breathless and nervous.
Ron's eyebrow is raised, "That was a disgrace. What happened to you? What happened to the Ginny Weasley I know who could lie without batting an eyelash?"
Ginny sighs. "You know it was only you I can't lie to," hoping for this long shot of a subject switcher.
Ron grins. "Yeah, well, you're forgetting one other person. Harry."
Ginny grins as well. Success! of some sort, but at the sound of Harry's name she feels her cheeks warm in guilt. "Come on. Let's get to class."
Ron's grin falls, and he looks at his watch. "Bloody – I'm going to be late!" he yells taking off. "Bye Ginny, sorry I can't walk you!"
"Bye," she laughs.
"No more alone time with Malfoy! I don't trust him!"
She gives a tiresome cry after him, but it was likely he didn't hear it.
):::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::(
Once again, Draco finds himself unable to concentrate on Professor Snape. Lucky for him this is a lesson of lectures on some potion or another. Draco's thoughts, however, were centered on Ginny Weasley. The Gryffindor who had more control over him than he preferred to acknowledge. This, he is not happy with. This, he loves. He is touched by her. He knows this, but he doesn't understand it. What Draco needs is someone to talk to but who? Who can he talk to and ask for advice? Crabbe and Goyle could hardly understand could they? Maybe they have experienced a situation resembling this in the past? A quick glance to the left shows Crabbe is cleaning his toenail with a quill and to the right Goyle is swatting his nose in his sleep, flinching and mumbling something about biscuits. Well there goes that idea. Being emotionally touch by someone else seems a bit too deep for them at the moment. Maybe in a few years...
For the next 40 minutes Draco sits and ponders who to speak to about his little situation and he's narrowed it down to ... Zabini and ... Snape. Well...
"Mr. Malfoy, please tell the class what the combination of caterpillars, ginger and knotgrass should make."
"I'm sorry, sir?"
Snape looks deeply disappointed. "Please, pay attention Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
"Not fair. That'd lose up at least five points." Ron whispered to Harry a little too loud.
"Five points, Mr. Weasley, for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." Snape sneers as he says "nose" as if he wanted to add something more offensive, like "overgrown" or "speckly," or something more mature and degrading.
"As if he should be talking about other people's noses." Ron mutters.
"What was that?"
"I said 'who knew that jar opens again when it closes.'" He points out a jar on the desk that Snape was just using before speaking to Malfoy. "You really should fix that. Someone could get hurt." Snape squints his eyes but before he opens his mouth, the bell rings signalling the end of class and giving him his cue to assign a sixteen inch essay on the dream potion he has been lecturing on all hour.
"Malfoy!" Ron calls as they walked out of class. "I don't know what going on, what went on last night, if anything's going on at all, but I do know that I don't want you anywhere near my sister. For any reason." Draco opens his mouth to tell him that he doesn't give a damn about his sister, but he doesn't get the chance, because Ron cuts him off with, "That was your warning," and turned to continue to his next class.
Damn! Now this was neither right nor necessary! Ronald-bloody-Bilius!- bloody-WEASLEY! had gotten the last word! Not only had he gotten the last word, but he had gotten the only words! There was laws against this stuff! True it wasn't written, print black and white, but it was common law! Birds fly, fish swim, Malfoys get the better of Weasleys. ALWAYS! Always, always, and always.
He should forget her. He should. He should. He really should. But he can't. He better have that talk soon. Tonight. But the question still stands. Zambini or Snape?
):::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::(
CHAPTER 5
"Great idea! Didn't you learn anything from Ron? You have to think before you act!" Ginny thinks aloud as she wanders through the halls before classes, experiencing a sense of déjà vu. Her feet take her past the portrait of the Fat Lady just as Ron is exiting – for he has forgotten his potions text and wouldn't dare enter Snapes classroom without it. Though Ginny's feet – and the rest of her body – is in front of the Gryffindor common room her mind is twenty minutes or so behind on a certain Slytherin who shouldn't be anywhere near her thoughts.
"Ginny!" Ron calls taking notice of her, "I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to talk to you about Malfoy." Ginny spins aroung at her name being called and hopes she doesn't look as guilty as she feels. Ron can't read minds, she repeatedly reminds herself.
"Wh-what about him?" Ginny inquires, scratching her ear lobe.
"Harry told me last night that he saw you and him alone outsdie. Some sort of 'Prefect's discussion?'"
"Yes, Ron, for I am – to my knowledge, at least – a Prefect, as is Dr-ay- Malfoy." Ginny finishes blinking rapidly.
Ron squints at her. "You were going to call him Draco, weren't you?"
Ginny's cheeks pinked from her being caught, but she wasn't going down without a fight. "Why would I call him Draco? His name's Malfoy, isn't it? The name by which we call him? Because we surely wouldn't call him Weasley [here she giggles nervously]. Because you know he's a Malfoy." she finishes breathless and nervous.
Ron's eyebrow is raised, "That was a disgrace. What happened to you? What happened to the Ginny Weasley I know who could lie without batting an eyelash?"
Ginny sighs. "You know it was only you I can't lie to," hoping for this long shot of a subject switcher.
Ron grins. "Yeah, well, you're forgetting one other person. Harry."
Ginny grins as well. Success! of some sort, but at the sound of Harry's name she feels her cheeks warm in guilt. "Come on. Let's get to class."
Ron's grin falls, and he looks at his watch. "Bloody – I'm going to be late!" he yells taking off. "Bye Ginny, sorry I can't walk you!"
"Bye," she laughs.
"No more alone time with Malfoy! I don't trust him!"
She gives a tiresome cry after him, but it was likely he didn't hear it.
):::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::(
Once again, Draco finds himself unable to concentrate on Professor Snape. Lucky for him this is a lesson of lectures on some potion or another. Draco's thoughts, however, were centered on Ginny Weasley. The Gryffindor who had more control over him than he preferred to acknowledge. This, he is not happy with. This, he loves. He is touched by her. He knows this, but he doesn't understand it. What Draco needs is someone to talk to but who? Who can he talk to and ask for advice? Crabbe and Goyle could hardly understand could they? Maybe they have experienced a situation resembling this in the past? A quick glance to the left shows Crabbe is cleaning his toenail with a quill and to the right Goyle is swatting his nose in his sleep, flinching and mumbling something about biscuits. Well there goes that idea. Being emotionally touch by someone else seems a bit too deep for them at the moment. Maybe in a few years...
For the next 40 minutes Draco sits and ponders who to speak to about his little situation and he's narrowed it down to ... Zabini and ... Snape. Well...
"Mr. Malfoy, please tell the class what the combination of caterpillars, ginger and knotgrass should make."
"I'm sorry, sir?"
Snape looks deeply disappointed. "Please, pay attention Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
"Not fair. That'd lose up at least five points." Ron whispered to Harry a little too loud.
"Five points, Mr. Weasley, for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." Snape sneers as he says "nose" as if he wanted to add something more offensive, like "overgrown" or "speckly," or something more mature and degrading.
"As if he should be talking about other people's noses." Ron mutters.
"What was that?"
"I said 'who knew that jar opens again when it closes.'" He points out a jar on the desk that Snape was just using before speaking to Malfoy. "You really should fix that. Someone could get hurt." Snape squints his eyes but before he opens his mouth, the bell rings signalling the end of class and giving him his cue to assign a sixteen inch essay on the dream potion he has been lecturing on all hour.
"Malfoy!" Ron calls as they walked out of class. "I don't know what going on, what went on last night, if anything's going on at all, but I do know that I don't want you anywhere near my sister. For any reason." Draco opens his mouth to tell him that he doesn't give a damn about his sister, but he doesn't get the chance, because Ron cuts him off with, "That was your warning," and turned to continue to his next class.
Damn! Now this was neither right nor necessary! Ronald-bloody-Bilius!- bloody-WEASLEY! had gotten the last word! Not only had he gotten the last word, but he had gotten the only words! There was laws against this stuff! True it wasn't written, print black and white, but it was common law! Birds fly, fish swim, Malfoys get the better of Weasleys. ALWAYS! Always, always, and always.
He should forget her. He should. He should. He really should. But he can't. He better have that talk soon. Tonight. But the question still stands. Zambini or Snape?
):::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::(
