Author's Note: Oh how I love short stories. It's defiently my format. Please read and respond to this. As we all know in this little fandom planet we inhabit, I own nothing and am making no money. All the credit (and money) belongs to JK Rowlings.

Sweet Forgetfulness

A flash of red hair twirled around the dance floor and disappeared. The crowd dark subterranean club, with it's coloured flashing lights, easily hid identities. Beneath the surface, in the secret club, past and present were both forgotten. Ordering another shot, the expensively dressed man, only added to his drunken stupor. All the better to be miserable. If misery tasted like alcohol, then he loved it. Alcohol was his black widow—the delightful death of him.

Fortunately, he was one of those guys where drunkenness never showed. Sauntering onto the dance floor he began to mingle with the mindless crowd. Finding one particularly well-endowed blond he began to dance. Dancing had never been his thing. It seemed unsophisticated. Mentally he associated dancing with cruder bestial lusts. Not that he sex bothered him; he simply despised mindless lust. Yet, here he found himself in a dance club, practically humping a beautiful, but probably dense, blonde. Sighing, disappointed with himself, he suddenly lost interest in anything remotely female or pretty and meandered across the dance floor towards his black widow.

That's when a flicker of familiarity spun across his radar. Waif-like compared to his previous partner, a freckle faced girl stood in the midst of the crowd dancing with everyone and no one at the same time. The familiar smile mocked him without ever glancing his way. Agitated to see her joyful face, Draco stalked through the crowd towards the girl. Alarm flashed across her smiling face as Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the crowd. "Weasley," he muttered darkly, trying to scare the girl with his tone, "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I was dancing if that's okay with you," her eyes searched his face, flushed with confusion. Somewhere, deep within the dusty files of her mind, he could see her searching. Probably trying to come up with an insult, Weasleys always were thick.

"I didn't know Weasleys could dance."

"Would you like me to show you?" Ginny offered her hand, heading once again in the direction of the dance floor.

"No I bloody don't want you to Weasley," Draco pulled his hand away. "Don't you even remember me?"

The girl giggled uncomfortably, running her fingers nervously through her bob of red hair. "I hate it when this happens," she muttered. With those enigmatic words she walked away, up the stairs towards a seclude balcony.

"You hate it when what bloody happens?" he asked following her into the night. The stars twinkled above. A chilly night wrapped around Ginny, hugging her in its cold, but friendly, grasp. "You can't just ignore my bloody question you know!"

"I'm sorry," Ginny turned, brown eyes welling with un-cried tears. "I know I'm suppose to know you. But I don't."

"What do you mean you don't bloody know me?" Draco stopped, letting the words wash over him. "We went to Hogwarts together."

"Hogwarts," she laughed. "That was a lifetime ago." For a while she sat on the balcony ledge, staring into the distance. "A few years ago there was an accident…" Ginny never knew how to begin her tale. Especially since she couldn't remember it. "A potions accident," she clarified. "I've had amnesia ever since."

"You're kidding me Weasel," he began laughing. "That's classic."

"I'm sorry but what's classic?" Ginny's unchanged and well-known temper flared. "Excuse me if I don't find it funny that I lost my bloody memory. You come in here thinking you know who I am, pull me away from the party, curse at me like a bloody drunk and then laugh at my condition."

"Your cursing now," he pointed out.

"Well I bloody have a right to," she pointed out. Her toned shifted, "I don't even know who I use to be. I don't know who you think I am."

Draco looked over the newfound woman. Wearing a very un-Weasley miniskirt, and a stylish tight green top, she looked like an entirely different person. "Calm down Ginny, we didn't know each other that well." Even though Draco was "the bad-guy" he felt obligated to offer some condolences. That was the best he had.

"That's reassuring," she laughed, "except I just made an arse of myself in front of you."

"That's okay. You always tended to make an arse of yourself anyways."

The look on her face was different now. Though her deep brown eyes still ached, they twinkled in the starlight, good naturedly laughing at Draco. "That's always good to know I suppose." He was surprised with how well she handled the insult. Of course, with six brothers, a girl quickly learns to be teased. "Do you want to dance?" she asked somewhat nervously. Flirting with a guy who she knew, but at the same time didn't, wasn't an everyday occurrence.

"Hell yeah." The response was honest. Dancing with a Gryffindor, even better a Weasley, who didn't recognize him, was the opportunity of a lifetime. Maybe just dancing with someone who didn't know him, someone who didn't remember how many Muggles he'd murdered and who had no idea how many Galleons rested in his bank account, offered solace. Yes, a memory-less, somewhat attractive Weasley offered solace.

On the dance floor, their bodies tightly intertwined Ginny laughed her indescribably light laughter, the laugher of human emancipated from her past sins, free to live only in the present.

"What the hell is so funny?" he pulled the thin figure closer to his body, hoping to somehow absorb her happiness.

"I forgot to ask what your name was," she laughed harder. "I don't even bloody know who you are."

He hesitating, realizing with his name he carried a past. At this point that didn't matter. "Draco," he whispered in her ear. "And this time don't forget."

Gently toying with the boys silver blond hair she looked up into his slate grey eyes. The masses of partiers swirled around them, the music blaring, but the two barely noticed. "Then do something unforgettable."

First, he pinched her arse, causing her to erupt in giggles. Tilting her chin up he looked into her enormous brown eyes. A few seconds later, his lips found hers. The kiss began softly, but as the tempo increased so did Draco's passion. He delighted in her naiveté, taking advantage of it in more ways than one. Ginny's past self would object, and Draco delighted in that. Even more than that, the anonymity, knowing she kissed him on no pretence of name or alliance, enthralled Draco. When he pulled his lips away, she giggled softly, and continued dancing.

"I'll try to remember that," she whispered the words only inches from his face. "But you better keep in touch. Just in case there's another accident."

Author's Note: Oh how I love Fire and Ice (Ginny and Draco). Seriously, if I could keep a fandom pair around to amuse me it would be them.

If there are any errors in this it's because I've long been in want of a BETA reader. In fact, I just wrote this today. I did proofread it and all, but you know how it is with your own stuff--you simply can't see what is blantanly in front of your face. Oh well, please review anyways.