Author's Note: Third chapter is up. Huzzah. Um, nothing much has changed. Aside from the plot, of course. I really hope you all like this one, I do. But then again, I watch X-Files and BBC, so...don't take my word for it. I really want to know what you think of it . I know that Draco and Ginny have come together (friendly-like at least) rather quickly, but most of the story is them after getting together. The problems they encounter, so on and so forth. I also know that this story is revoltingly fluffy and uncharacteristic in a lot of ways, especially with Draco, but allow for changes. After all, people change, right? Besides, how would someone who's never encountered love react to it? Read and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine, unless it's not J.K. Rowlings; same as first chapter.

Dancing Life

Chapter 3: Weasley Withdrawal Symptoms?

Draco headed over to where Skye had just deposited a large stack of dance books in front of her desk, blatantly ignoring the witch as she plopped down into her own chair with a lazy sigh.

He picked up a thick blue dance book and flipped lazily through the pages, not really reading it or looking at the enchanted moving pictures. What was it with him? He couldn't get her off his mind. After that one, teasing kiss the day before, she was all he could think about.

No matter how many times he tried to concentrate on something else, she popped up continually. The worst had been this morning, when he was dressing.

He'd been sifting through his clothes, trying to decide what to wear. He'd pulled out a silky green shirt; one he never wore because of how form-fitting it was. Before he could stop himself, he was thinking of how incredible Weasley would look in that shirt. And only that shirt. Nothing else.

He'd hastily shoved the shirt back in trunk, panicking. He tried to think of school, but all he could think about was how adorable SHE looked when she was frustrated with her work. He tried to think of Quidditch, but all he could think of then was how sleek she was practicing on her brother's broom. He'd never realized before how often he watched her; mostly because before he was too preoccupied to see her aside from her stereotype as a Weasley.

He sighed and glanced at the book he was holding. It was on little-known dances in medieval England. He watched the dancers in the picture spin about each other. The man in the picture picked up the woman by the waist and spun her around, her arms out stretched, trusting in him completely. He swept her around a few more times, then set her down, where they danced.

For an old English dance, it was incredible. The pair in the picture were so confidant, not only in themselves, but their partner as well. The man and woman spun away from each other, then back. They were moving so fast, it looked like it might hurt when they joined back together again, but they didn't hit each other; they melded together. Their movements were so fluid and synchronized, it was astounding. Even Draco was spell-bound.

"Ahh, yes, the dance of life. A very good choice, Draco."

Draco spun around. Skye was standing behind him, looking over his shoulder with a satisfied smile on her lips. "Very much frowned upon at one time, that was. English aristocrats didn't like how much contact the dancers had. It was too fast-paced and complicated." She grinned. "And required far too much physical exertion."

Draco simply stared at her with his identifying I'm-a-Malfoy-and-therefore-not-interested-in-what-you-have-to-say-so-bugger-off look.

"I think your choice is very fitting." She glanced over at where Ginny was spinning in the corner, practicing her dance steps, oblivious to the view she was giving Malfoy (and the rest of the males in the room, only a few of which were staring appreciatively) as her short skirt flipped up every so often, showing off a small expanse of thigh.

"Especially considering your dance partner's enthusiasm and lively nature." Skye smirked, noticing with no small amount of amusement the glint of anger and perhaps jealousy in Draco's eyes as the red-head continued to spin.

Okay, so she was barely showing but a little leg, but for some reason he really didn't like it, especially the more-than-just-mildly-interested look sixth year Benton Cassel from Hufflepuff was giving her. Or rather, her legs and backside.

Draco slammed shut the book as Skye moved off, still smirking to herself. Draco shoved the book away. No way he was dancing that stupid bloody dance with Weasley; he'd do the fucking boring waltz, just to spite the damn teacher.

He stormed over to where Ginny was now doing a little, strange dance step, bouncing up and down every so often.

Draco tried to ignore the way her hair (and other anatomy parts) bounced alluringly and frowned hard at her, grabbing her arms before she had a chance to start spinning again.

"What the hell, Weasley?" He hissed.

She cocked her head, slightly startled, but mostly confused. "What?" She asked, wondering why he looked so pissed off.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, flashing the whole bloody class like that? Is that how you get your kicks? Fine, do that for Potter and whoever else wants it, but it's disgusting the way you flaunt your body in front of everyone." He grimaced, feeling sick. She was such a tease; teasing first him with the kiss, and then the rest of the class with a little peep show. Well, it had just been a little thigh, but completely unsuitable for such an innocent like her. But what really ticked him off was that he'd fallen for it.

She'd gotten him hooked.

Ginny tilted her head to the other side. "Malfoy, what the hell are you talking about?"

He nearly let her go then; she really sounded like she didn't know what he was talking about. But that just wasn't possible; no one could be so ignorant and unaware of their own charm and appeal. It just wasn't probable.

"Don't give me that shit, Weasley. You were doing it right here, and you knew full and well what you were doing. Bloody sick the way you show your body around."

She still looked confused. She looked down at her shirt (particularly the chest area) as if looking for a gaping hole in her clothes.

"Damn it girl! The whole fucking class saw half your thigh, and who knows how much more they would have seen if I hadn't come over here. Bloody revolting."

Ginny looked down at her legs, touching a hand to her skirt. "But- how?" She asked, quietly, fingering the hem.

Draco rolled his eyes and Ginny swallowed. Exasperation looked good on him.

"What the fuck do you mean, how? You were spinning around like a top, your skirt flying up nauseatingly high. Goddamn pathetic."

Ginny's face went ghastly pale. "You saw my legs?" She gasped, looking like she was going to cry. Or be sick.

"Not by my own choice." Draco snarled, wishing he hadn't started this whole thing. She'd barely done anything, but he made it seem like…well, never mind that. He could see that she was on the verge of tears. He'd made her seem like a cheap slut when she was just…well, ignorant.

Ginny bit her lip. "I forgot I was wearing a skirt…I didn't think anyone…I never would have." She looked imploringly into his unreadable iron eyes. "Jesus, Malfoy. You've got to believe me. I don't do stuff like that, it's sickening. I can't believe…" She trailed off, biting back tears. Gods, why did she sound so disgusting?

She shrugged, trying to remain calm and unperturbed. "Whatever. So people saw a few more inches of the skinny sticks that are supposed to pass for my legs. No big deal."

Even Draco didn't fall for that. To her, it was a big deal. He felt suddenly sorry he'd made such a stink over it; it hadn't been anything!

"Weasley, I-"

"Malfoy, look-"

They cut each other off. Ginny grinned wryly. "Thanks, Malfoy. I'm glad you, er- stopped me…from, well, yeah. Thanks." For once, she looked unsure.

She wriggled out of his arms and stuck out her hand.

Draco took it. "No problem, Weasley. But perhaps I should watch out for you; you don't seem to know much about your own body. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble; there's some unscrupulous characters out there." He frowned as Ginny doubled over in laughter.

"Yeah, Malfoy, like you're the best candidate to keep me out of trouble and away from devious and immoral boys." She sobered up. "But I think I might take you up on that offer. Hanging around you will give me an insight into the mind of a twisted, dodgy personality." She grinned as he protested and grabbed his hand.

"Come on, we need to go learn the waltz."

Ginny sighed and closed her Charms book. She couldn't concentrate today; she'd just have to wait for Draco.

She sat back in her seat in the back of the library, far from Madame Pince's roving eye.

It was a Friday afternoon, about two months after the beginning of dance class. She'd been surprised that Draco had kept up with his promise, although the issue of her flaunting her body never came up again, except for in casual conversation, usually when he was teasing her.

She and Draco got along rather well, and Ginny found herself spending more time with him. Not like they were a couple; they'd both agreed to that early on, Draco blanching theatrically at the mere thought.

Not that she'd mind. After two months, she discovered that she liked being in his company (and he was pleasing to look at), more than anyone else's, save for Heather. But her best friend was quite preoccupied with her Slytherin bloke.

She and Blaise had started dating soon after their first trip to Hogsmeade. Ginny hadn't been the only one to notice that the quiet, inexpressive dark witch had suddenly taken to going on the trips to the magical community more often.

Ron and Harry had caught her with Blaise once. Talking to Ginny later, they were both horrified. "But he's a Slytherin!" Ron had gasped.

Ginny loved watching her brother squirm. He'd been such a prat to her in her school years. He would either order her around, or tell her who she could see and who she couldn't, or just plain ignore her.

She could just imagine the look on his face if he knew she was meeting more than weekly with Draco Malfoy. One of the strange things that attracted Ginny to Draco (or rather, his company) was his humor. If he wasn't in a foul mood, or angry with her, he was actually quite pleasant to be around.

Sure, he insulted her, but she did so to him as well, and after a while, they both laughed at each other's taunts and brushed them off.

Ginny looked up as a heavy book bag dropped in front of her.

Draco grinned down at her. "Hey, weasel-brat." He mocked.

"'Afternoon, ferret-prat." She tossed back.

He laughed. "Damn. I was hoping to get you that time; you look preoccupied."

She grinned ruthlessly. Draco though this looked particularly sexy on her, but he never would tell her that. He'd never told her that he liked her. He was content to spend time with her, and was elated when she devised a plan to meet with him after classes on Friday to work and hang out, and to hang out after classes on the weekend.

"You forget, Draco: my subconscious is twice as venomous as my conscious."

"Damn, that's venomous: make sure I never see your unconscious. I might just wet myself." He felt a pleased tug as she laughed. He loved making her laugh; her eyes sparkled when she laughed. The great thing was, she appreciated his humor. No one else did, besides Blaise, and he was busy with his little Gryffindor.

He would do anything to make her laugh. He only wished she liked him. Well, she did like him, but he wanted her to like him the way he liked her. But he was just a friend to her; she never showed any interest in him as anything else.

But as long as he could be around her, he was happy.

He sat down next to her. She didn't shift away like other people did; like he was a poisonous snake. Instead she settled in next to him, her shoulder touching his. He stiffened at her touch, but she didn't notice; she was opening her Charms book.

"Do you remember doing Collapsing Charms?" She asked.

Draco tore his gaze from her beckoning bare shoulder (her light jacket had slipped off it) and turned to the text book. "Yeah, you having trouble?" He asked.

She nodded. "I just don't understand the wand motions. I've got the incantation right, I just can't get the twist part." She explained, pulling out her wand and attempting to do the complicated movement: swish, twirl, jab, and flick.

Draco shook his head and pulled out his wand. He held it next to hers. "It's like this." He demonstrated slowly, showing her the precise movement. She stared hard at his wand and tried to imitate what he'd done.

Draco sighed and shook his head again, standing up. "Here, let me show you."

He walked around so he was right behind her and put his arms over her shoulders, reaching for her wand hand. He leaned forward, his face next to hers. He stole a sideways glance at her face. It was pulled into concentration. He looked down.

Dear God! He squeezed his eyes shut and looked back to the wand. Focus on the wand. Focus on the wand. Focus on the wand. He couldn't believe it; he'd just looked down her shirt. She trusted him enough to let him get so close, and he had taken advantage of her trust in him.

"Uh…right. Erm, it's just…yeah…like this." He stammered taking her hand in his.

They practiced until she got it right and could do it on her own.

Draco sat back down in his seat. She was swishing her wand around delightedly.

"Oh, brilliant! Thank you so much Draco." She flicked her wand again.

He shuddered, loving the way she said his name. He'd never really liked his name; it sounded so old-fashioned, but when she said it, it sounded perfect.

"Nothing doing, Weasley. I'd hate to see you get detention for blowing up Flitwick or something like that." He sneered. She simply smiled.

"So, what got dear Mr. Tranquil's knickers in a twist?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

Ginny cocked her head, putting her wand back. "Mr…? Oh, you mean Ron." She nodded and pulled a face. "That god damned bloody tosser!" She fumed, flushing to the roots of her hair.

Draco leaned in, startled. "What did he do?" He asked. There were few things that could get Ginny riled up. One was Harry, another was Fudge, her brothers were rather good at it, and the last was Draco himself, but only when he was being a prat.

"Thinks he can bloody well run my life! Stupid bugger! Someone told him I come in here all the time to meet with some guy. He got all pissed off, and wanted to know who it was. Well, I told him it was none of his god damned business. Fucking git said if I was going to go out with anyone, it would be Harry." She fumed, crossing her arms across her chest.

Draco nodded to himself. Bingo. Harry had been pestering Ginny for a week now; he'd broken up with his Hufflepuff girlfriend, and there was supposed to be a dance next month. She'd said 'no' first; she was sorry, but she wasn't interested anymore.

But he kept on at her. Draco listened to her tales with mounting anger; finally offering to go and pound his face in, to which Ginny had to regretfully decline.

Draco scowled now. "Damn it, Ginevra." He growled, making Ginny sit up. He rarely used her first name unless he was really mad at her, or really happy with her.

"What?"

"Why don't you want to go with Harry? I mean, you were after him for who knows how long; now he's finally gotten a pair of glasses that work and noticed you. Why not just go with him?" This was a dangerous question, but they never really talked about Ginny and Harry, and Draco was curious.

Ginny scowled, but didn't blow up at him. "Pretend, for one moment, you don't always get everything you want. Now, pretend that you've been pining away after someone for a long time." She stared at him.

No need to pretend there. He thought, staring at her with wanting. She missed his hungry glance.

"Well, pretend that you've finally gotten over that person. And then they come around and finally ask you out. What are you going to do, say yes and forget all the heartache they put you through?" She sat back. "I don't think so."

Draco bit his lip at how similar his problem was to hers with Potter.

She tilted back in her chair as he had in his. "Gods, my brother can be such a bastard sometimes!" She leaned her head back.

Draco was thinking, more about her than Potter. "Maybe Potter didn't know you cared for him." He said, voice dangerously low.

Ginny didn't bother to look up at him. Still staring up, she told the ceiling that Harry would have had to be utterly blind not to see, and besides, she'd heard her brother and Harry laughing over her infatuation.

Draco ground his teeth. "What would you have done if he hadn't known?" He asked.

Ginny finally sat up and looked at him; oddly. "I dunno. I probably would have asked him to go with me to Hogsmeade, or a dance, or something. You know, one of those euphemisms for 'I like you'." She shrugged.

Draco sat up suddenly, his mind made. He had to ask before he realized what he was doing and changed his mind.

"Hey, Weasley? Do you have a date-er, partner for the dance?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes. "No, Draco. Haven't you heard a single thing I've said? I don't want to go with Harry and no one else's going to ask me. The night of the dance I'm curling up in the common room with a cup of cocoa and a good book." She snuggled into her jacket at the thought of warmth and coziness.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, weasel, but you're going to the dance. Will you go with me?" He asked, trying to sound uninterested.

She sat straight up this time. "What?" She asked, cocking her head.

Draco grinned. "You heard me, weasel. D'you wanna go to the dance with me?"

She stared. "Why?" She asked, suddenly all suspicion.

He rolled his eyes. "Because I'm madly in love with you and want to spend the rest of my life with you." He said, mimicking her sarcastic words from two months earlier.

She laughed. "Bravo, Draco. Didn't think you'd remember that. But, seriously, why would you want to go to the dance with me?" She said, smile dropping slightly.

This was not like Draco she'd come to know in the past two months.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Because…well, I like you. A little more than as a friend, but I understand that that's all you want us to be. But, I don't know, I like your company and since you're not going with anyone else…I thought perhaps we could go together. It's not like it's some binding arrangement, it's just a dance." He said, at her questioning glance.

Her eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them. "Wait, back up. What was that part about you liking me? Or did I just imagine that?" She breathed, at loss for what to say.

Draco looked down at his shoes. "Well, for a Gryf, you're a really neat person, and…okay, look: you're pretty and nice, and damned well funny. You've got a great personality, and I just really like you." He shrugged.

"Doesn't mean you like ME that way, but hey, I can live with that." He sat, waiting for her response.

She just stared at him, or rather, as it looked to Draco, through him. Sirens were going off in her head, made worse by the dull buzzing in her ears. Everything had gone topsy-turvey. She didn't know what was up, and what was down.

This wasn't Draco. It couldn't be; he would never, even if he was feeling those things, tell her. "Wha-what?" She stammered, her mind thick; not really sure if she was just thinking it, or if she'd actually said it.

"D'you wanna go to the dance with me?"

Apparently she had.

Ginny opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her head started spinning. Words, phrases, emotions, went rampant through her mind faster than possible for her to process, leaving her speechless and dazed.

Sure, I like Draco, hell I could even learn to love him; two months ago I could have easily kicked his ass with no bad feelings or remorse, and now he's practically my best friend. We spend more time with each other than I've done consecutively with any one person, family not included. Except perhaps Heather. But why does he want to go to the dance with me? I know why I like him, but why in God's name does he like me? Wasn't I just been a weird little friend who's fun just because I'm just different? What does he feel about me? He said he likes me, but what if it's just a trick? What if he's just screwing around, like I did when I kissed him? Gods, I wish I'd done something else; the kissing thing was so humiliating, and now I never know when he's serious because of it.

"Damn! Gods, I wish I'd never kissed you!" She thought. Or, at least, she had meant to think it.

Draco glowered at her. So much for honesty…

"Well, sorry, weasel. I didn't really have much say in that…it was all you, and gods, please, never do that again. Had to rinse my mouth out with a Scouring Spell twelve times before I could stop gagging. Still haven't cleansed it out enough." He rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth to prove his point.

Ginny bit her bottom lip. "Draco, I didn't mean it like that…"

He stood angrily and shoved away her comforting hand. "You know, I don't give a damn about what you think, Weasley. I asked you to the dance because I felt sorry for you. You're such an annoying bitch; no one else would want to go with you. Save it." He snapped, holding up his hand as she opened her mouth to say something.

"Last time I try to do you a favor, weasel."

Ginny's chin was wobbling precariously. For some reason, she didn't feel mad, but rather, an overwhelming regret. She reached up and touched his arm. "Draco, I'm sorry, you know I wouldn't say anything like that, I meant-"

He pulled his arm away from her and shoved her away. She stood up, actually angry now. He pushed her back down thoughtlessly. "Don't bother, wretch. I was just about to leave. You can go back to admiring Potter, now." He stormed off angrily.

Ginny sat, for what seemed like eternity in a second. Her perception of time left with Draco, and she sat, thinking of nothing and everything. Had anyone come to her secluded corner of the library, they would have seen her, half-seated, hand outstretched, as if caressing a ghost, staring off into endless space, for once, looking shaken.

"DAMNIT!" Draco yelled, kicking a rock into the lake. He stomped his foot down. "DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN!" He cursed, fuming hotly, looking murderous enough to send a pair of snuggling Ravenclaw fourth years running for another snog-spot.

"Why the hell did you tell her you liked her?" He hissed at himself, scowling at the nearest thing…a tree. Was it just his imagination or did that tree look like Ginny? No! Damnit, Draco! Stop thinking about her. She obviously doesn't want anything to do with you, so just drop it!

He spun around and sat, head in his hands. "I can't." He said softly to himself. Sighing, he leaned back and stared morosely out over the lake.