A/N: Hello again, all. Ugh, I know it has been absolute ages since I have added a chappie, but well, here it is…finally. Yeap, although I am still stuck in a bit of writers block, I have managed to think up a chapter for you guys. Hope it isn't too bad but let me know what you think by reviewing!
Enjoy!
Then I would also like to add a big THANK YOU! to "Goddess from the Edge of Time" who is my very first reviewer on this story. You're wonderful, and because you were so kind in your review, I'm dedicating this chappie to you, hope you enjoy it.
And then, lastly, to Hippie-Banana, who is my second reviewer. Chapter 4 will be for you!
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Chapter 3:
Sparks
"What are you doing here?" Draco stopped dead in his tracks as the door of the Prefect's bathroom clicked shut behind him. Standing before him, wrapped only in a fluffy white towel, was none other than Ginny Weasley.
"I happen to be a Prefect, for your information." Her voice was icy, standing sharply in contrast to the mass of fiery red hair which spilled over her shoulders in a wet tangle. She seemed not at least fazed about the fact that she was standing before him showing a lot more shapely leg than was strictly proper. Draco had to hand it to the girl – she had grown up.
Without much of an effort Draco let his eyes wander over Ginny's body, an almost-lecherous expression on his face.
"I don't see a badge." He sneered at her. "But I do see a lot of skin."
Draco was rewarded when Ginny flushed scarlet.
"Nobody is forcing you to look, Malfoy. You could just turn around and leave." The youngest Weasley stood, hands on hips, her face wet with perspiration caused by the heat in the bathroom.
"Or you could just get dressed and leave." Draco leaned against the wall, making it clear that he was not about to budge. But the Weasley girl surprised him yet again – by laughing in his face.
"I don't think so, Malfoy." Ginny raised a hand, ticking off her list on slim fingers. "Firstly, I was here first; secondly, it would be quicker if you just left; thirdly, you don't have the authority to order me out and fourthly – this is a girl's bathroom." She gave him a glacial grin. "So, due to logic, you should just leave."
Draco had to fight the urge to gape at her. A Weasel, tell him what to do? Not in this lifetime. Hell, not in the next seven lifetimes! It was just unheard of; the fact that she would even consider telling a Malfoy what to do was completely unspeakable. Unnatural… that was the word he had been looking for.
"What are you doing here in anyway?" Ginny interrupted his train of thought.
"I am Head Boy, my business is my own." He couldn't exactly tell her that he had ducked into the closest bathroom in order to avoid Pansy, now could he? He suppressed a shudder as he thought about the pug-faced Slytherin girl and her infatuation with him. A ghastly business, he had to admit, even if it did help to strengthen family ties. Not that he had any plans of strengthening family ties so strongly that he would marry the simpering fool one day, but the infatuation did come in handy some times.
At other times – like the moment he had ducked into what he had thought to be an abandoned bathroom – he wanted to strangle Pansy very, very slowly.
The Weasley girl gave him a sly look. "Not hiding from Pansy again, are you?"
This time, despite years of training his self-control, Draco Malfoy did gape, if only for an instant. "What?"
"Oh come on Malfoy, I've seen you ducking into classrooms or skulking away when Pansy bobs around. It is quit amusing, in fact."
Draco felt his body temperature rise; although he was sure that it had nothing to do with the fact that Ginny's towel was slowly sliding down to expose the rise of creamy breasts. No, it had to be anger, it just had to be.
Clearly, she noticed the towel as well, for one slender hand grabbed hold of the top of it.
He raised an eyebrow at her, hoping to distract her from the fact that he wasn't planning a reply to her statement. "Better hold onto that towel, Weasel, it doesn't seem as if you are well-endowed enough for it to stay up yet."
That was a lie, and Draco knew it, but the girl was getting to him, and it was not a feeling he was particularly enjoying.
"Fuck you, Malfoy." There was a hint of blush on her cheeks, and Malfoy felt a stab of short-lived satisfaction. He wasn't the only one that found the situation clearly disturbing, it would seem.
"No thanks." He gave her a smug smirk. "I think I'll leave before I see parts of you that will permanently harm my sight."
Ginny's eyes narrowed in anger, and she balled her free hand into a fist. "Out, now." She hissed, and even Draco, smug as he was, knew that tone to be too dangerous to tango with.
Pretending that she had not spoken, Draco gave her another smirk, and with one last appreciative glance, turned on his heal and stalked into the thankfully Pansy-free hallway.
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I leave the Prefect's bathroom feeling decidedly odd. My little encounter with Malfoy has left me quite shaken; more, I can say, than should be proper. There was just something in that last glance he gave me that made my stomach do flip-flops. Which is really bad. The very fact that Malfoy can make me feel anything but stomach-emptying, suicide-contemplating disgust is enough to make me shiver.
As I make my way down to the Gryffindor Common Room I try to forget the way his eyes had rested on me had made me shiver as well, and not because it had been unpleasant…
Whoa, stop the invisible-horse drawn carriage, this is not right. The heat of the bathroom must have addled my brains. There is no way on earth that I can even be considering this. I hate Malfoy. After everything that he and his family has done to me and all that I love, I simply cannot be even remotely feeling this.
Hmm, maybe I should go see Madam Pomfrey, this could be the start of some serious sort of illness. Perhaps I am slowly going mad…yes that could be it, or perhaps that repulsive Slytherin git jinxed me somehow. It would be just like him.
"Password" The Fat Lady enquired and I am surprised to find myself standing before the portrait hole.
"Icklygop." I mutter, surprised at the fact that I had spent so much time thinking about Malfoy of all people. Numbly I climb through the hole as the portrait swings open, only dimly aware of the mutterings of the Fat Lady. Something about me being rude…
The Common Room has become quite subdued after Fred and George left during those absolutely wonderful days with Umbridge. Sure, there are still some loose cannons who throw in a practical joke every now and then, but overall it's been quiet to the extremes. I must admit, it is much easier to study these days, but then, it's also much more boring. I expect, however, that things will liven up in the future when Harry and Ron really get into this competition thing about 'Mione.
I wave at a few of my friends, but, my mind being uncomfortably filled with Malfoy, I decide to head up to my room rather than stay downstairs.
Now, if only I could find something that could take my mind off this Malfoy thing…
I push open the door to the sixth-year girl's dormitory, and I find myself blinking at the form of Hermione on my bed, sobbing her heart out.
Well, never say that prayers aren't answered.
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Ok, that was lame, I admit, but damn this writer's block! I know it's short, and know it's not very good, and I apologize for it, but I promise to do better the next chapter…if you review!