Chapter 7: Classrooms at Night
He strolled slowly through the dark and empty halls of Hogwarts, allowing his fingers to scrape across the stone walls, as if making sure he hadn't slipped into some parallel universe like his recent behavior suggested he had. Or maybe it provided a little comfort to know he was not completely alone, even if it was simply an inanimate object.
Minutes ticked by, though Draco hardly noticed. Rounding the corner he found that he had made his way to the History of Magic classroom, where four hallways converged, just like the note had requested. How Draco had gotten there, he did not know. Perhaps it was his subconscious directing him along, or his childlike curiosity begging to solve the mystery. Either way, he was there.
He held his emerald encrusted pocket watch up to the eery glow resonating from the moon shining through one of the foggy windows; it was 10:55. Any minute Mildred Mortenson would come stumbling through the darkness with her usual dumbfounded expression, probably sporting a new assortment of bows on her tossled hair. There was no reason to wait around for the pitiful display, yet something kept him rooted to the spot. Doubt.
Falling back to the shadows, Draco decided to wait. If anything, he'd at least be able to revel in Mildred's disappointed face when she realized he was not coming and ran away blubbering like a wounded walrus. Draco's lip twitched at the thought, but he didn't let his musings distract his fervent attention.
11:05, no sign of anyone. You'd think she'd be punctual, afterall she's the one that asked for this little rendez-vous, Draco thought, growing more and more agitated as the minute hand of his pocketwatch continued forward. Just then, Draco's ears perked up as he heard the sound of someone hurrying forward. He slumped against the wall in a huff, however, when the figure emerging proved to be Mr. Filch and his snobby cat following at his heals. Draco waited a few minutes after Mr. Filch disappeared, as running into him this late at night would only result in another detention of collecting the spit-wads Peeves had shot up on the ceiling of the Charms ceiling. That was a house-elf's duty, not the heir to the Malfoy fortune's!
Finally, when all seemed permanently quiet, Draco stepped into the light of the torches flickering around the door to the History of Magic classroom. Maybe Mildred has finally given up. Maybe her friends talked her out of coming, told her that it was a useless cause… Though, as far as Draco knew, Mildred Mortenson had no friends. He shrugged and turned to go back to his common room, there was no reason for being there in the first place.
Draco made to cross back to the hallway he had come from when he heard something that made his body freeze up. "Y-you came…" a small voice said, sounding both surprised and nervous. Turning on his heals, Draco's rested upon the face of Ginny Weasley standing before him with her hands tightly clenched in her pockets.
"I-it was you who wrote me?" Draco said before he could try and restrain his shocked tone from escaping. "W-what do you want?" He tried to add as if the site of her was repulsing.
"I needed to talk to you about… well, about stuff. But I am NOT doing it out here," the red haired girl replied quickly, before grabbing Draco by the arm and pushing him into the classroom, shutting the door after them both.
"Don't touch me!" Draco shouted, wrenching his arm away and retreating to the far side of the classroom. Who does she think she is?? Even if he had dreamed every day that he'd be able to feel her skin on his, Draco Malfoy would not be forced anywhere.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said, clearly without an ounce of sincerity, "but I don't particularly feel like getting caught this late at night, especially not with you outside an empty classroom. Some people might get suspicious," she added pointedly.
Her defiant tone was unnerving. What had happened to the miserable, sulking, mental Ginny Draco had been sculpting for the last several weeks? There was a new surge of courage in the girl even her fiery red hair seemed to obey. Draco glared at her.
"You'd be lucky to get that inference," he replied smuggly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on one of the many desks. "So what do you want then?"
"I came here to try and reason with you, as shocking as that might sound, I know most girls just play the part of the victim… but I'm not most girls," Ginny said. She was right and it was her uniqueness that fueled Draco's attraction. "I don't know why you are trying to mess with my head, and frankly, I don't care what your sadistic reasons are. But I want you to stop," she continued, as if this speech had been practiced many times.
"I waited for 15 minutes just to hear that? Gosh Weasel, I dare say I'm getting the wrong end of the deal here," Draco frowned.
"Did you not hear what I just said? I'm telling you to leave me alone, that I won't succomb to your mind games!" Ginny shrieked, her quickly elevating voice becoming more hysterical. "I won't let his happen again! No one will control me again!"
"Quiet down you over-grown carrot! I heard you! For heaven's sake, you're worse then a lonely banshee!" Draco yelled forcefully, clapping his hands over his ears as he spoke. As much as Draco despised his parents, he couldn't help but wish they had taught the fiery red-head a thing or two about the proper voice level for a young woman. Then again, Draco was surprised she had learned to walk uprightly after growing up in that delapitated cardboard box she called a home and being raised by those mutts. Ginny closed her mouth instantly and blushed.
"Why were you late anyway?" Draco asked curiously, after Ginny had quieted down.
"I-I wasn't sure if I should come. I turned around several times before I actually got here," she answered somewhat timidly.
"Why?" Draco pressed, though he already knew the answer and it made his lip twitch. She was afraid of him, of the power he seemed to have over her. What she didn't know, however, was the silent power she had over Draco. Ginny opened her mouth, but didn't answer.
If someone had entered the classroom just then, they'd scarcely realized it was already occuppied. Draco and Ginny could have been mistaken for part of the architecture, like statues, neither one daring to move or make a sound.
"So…will you stop whatever you're doing to me…?" Ginny asked akwardly several minutes later. Draco looked up at the girl before him, her greens eyes illuminated with the pulsating glow of the torches overhead.
"I think you've got it all wrong," Draco said slowly. Anger was beginning to boil within his chest at the mere site of Ginny.
"W-what are you…" she tried.
"You're the one that has me hypnotized," he suddenly shouted, letting his fists clench at his sides and beginning to cross the room to Ginny. "You sit there from across the hall and tempt me, purposely trying to show me what I can't have. You know full well what you're doing. You act all coy and innocent, but you've cast some spell on me and I can't break it!"
Draco continued to yell, to vent all of his frustrations he'd kept within since the beginning of his infatuation, and the site of the frightened girl in front of him only fueled his anger.
"Why don't you leave ME alone!" He finally finished, mere inches in her front of Ginny's pale and quivering face.
"I d-don't know what to say," she whispered, her emerald eyes locking with that of Draco's softening gray ones.
Before Draco could stop himself, his lips had pressed forcefully against Ginny's making her stumble backwards slightly. Draco swept her up in his arms, not ready to allow Ginny to leave. He had been so patient, a word he normally did not know the meaning to and something he rarely had. Draco did not feel her try to pull away. Even if it was from fear, it didn't matter; she didn't resist. For this was not just the dream like he had every waking moment. This time he could actually taste her lips, smell her sweet perfume, and clutch her flowing hair. Their eyes were tightly shut, both knowing that when they indeed opened them again they would have to face the consquences of their actions.