Disclaimer: We are not British, sadly, thus... not J.K. Rowling, thus...

A/N- Er. The usual. Enjoy; more is to come...

Chapter Three

Harry was watching them excitedly from the shadows. Perv...

Anyhow, he was burning with jealousy (and lust) as he watched Draco touching Ginny. More than anything he wished he were there instead of Gin-- er, Draco...

Just as Draco was casually removing Ginny's shirt, Harry made his presence known. "Get your filthy, stinky, lovely, rotten hands off her!" he shouted, storming over to Draco and pushing him off Ginny. Ginny pulled her shirt back down and got up angrily.

Draco eyed Harry with irritation put stayed where he was, not wanting to get between Ginny and her next meal.

"Harry! What the hell do you think you're doing!" It was not a question. Ginny strode up to him, and-- WAP!-- bitch slapped him with such force and passion that he was flung across the room, smashing into the wall. A trickle of blood edged out from under his dark tangle of hair. Ginny looked at the blood longingly before remembering her great rage at his perverse action.

She stepped towards him, her foot ready to cause him great pain as he lay there. But Draco stood up, and caught her arm. "Ginny, don't. He's not worth it," he murmured.

Ginny gaped at Draco. "Harry's not worth it!" she shrieked. "Christ, Draco! It's like I don't even know you anymore!" She began spewing a long list of colorful words at the two boys.

Suddenly her foul speech was cut off as someone jammed his tongue down her throat. She nearly gagged, this was not Draco's tongue... It was Harry's!

When Harry finished devouring her face, he swept her off her feet into his arms. "I love you, Ginny," he whispered into her ear before sucking on her lobe tenderly. She shivered.

Draco could only watch in horror. If Ginny truly loved him, she would knock Harry flat on his arse. The Draco would personally strangle the filthy bastard.

Ginny climbed out of Harry's arms and took a few steps back. Then, she looked into his eyes sadly, gently stroking his hair with one hand. "Harry," she began, "I have always loved you. Since the day I first saw you, I knew we were meant for each other. Or so I thought for about three days! That was four years ago, Harry! Do you really think I'd keep feeling that way about you forever? Did you really think I liked you in the least anytime in the past year? Or two years, even? No, I didn't! Idiot."

He gazed at her, and informed her, "You don't mean it."

"Harry! You idiot!" she yelled. "Let me say this once and for all. I am not in love with you. In fact, at this point in time, I feel I rather loathe you. So... bugger off. Understand?"

"No..." he grabbed her wrist. "Ginny, you love me. I know you do. Don't deny the truth of it."

"Harry! You are such a bloody prat! I do NOT love you. Now fuck off!"

Harry's eyes seemed to revolve in his head for a moment. Then, he screamed, "Draco! -- He has put a spell on you to make you think you don't love me!" He strode over to Draco, and -- WAP! --

Ginny, looking tremendously angry, ran up to Harry, and began slapping and kicking him. "Tough love, eh?" he said, grinning, and enveloped her in his arms in a bearlike fashion.

She struggled to free herself, screaming, "You don't touch my Draco! Ever!" But Harry's grip on her remained resolutely tight.

Suddenly, he dropped her, and slumped onto the floor. Draco stepped forward, one hand still raised after having dealt Harry a mighty bitch slap. "Are you all right, Ginny my love?" said Draco, helping her to her feet.

"Yes, I am. And are you?"

"That bitch slap he gave me was barely anything. Pathetic."

She grinned. Then, her smile became more serious, and she whispered, "Give me a gun, and I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you."

He looked at her. "What's a gun?"

"Er, I'm not sure. It's the thought that counts."

They gazed into each others' eyes. Ginny's ear started itching like mad, but she was far too busy gazing at him to scratch it.

Finally, after about three hours of this mute gazing, they both looked away. Then, they linked arms and skipped off down the corridor, singing songs about dwarves.

Harry decided that if Ginny would not see past Malfoy's lies, then he would take the matter into his own hands. He would personally get rid of Draco. But first-- he would visit Hermione.

When he got to the infirmary, Hermione was staring up at the ceiling as she lay in her sick bed a/n: of Cuchulainn! .

"Hullo, Hermione," he said quietly, bending over to give her a quick hug.

"Hey, Harry," she murmured. She didn't look too well...

"How are you feeling?" he asked, ignoring the obvious visual clues.

"Not too bad," she groaned.

"Ah."

"Harry," she said faintly.

"Yes?"

"I...I have one question..." she whispered.

"What is it, pobrecita?"

"Harry..." she gasped. There was a long pause as she fought to regain her breath. Then, she indicated the "Draco Malfoy" cut into her arm, and said, in a considerably sharper tone, "Why did you do this to me? Why did you sneak up behind me and attack me that other evening, in the hall outside Ginny's room?"