Forget December

Chapter Two

Ginny spent the following day doing what she did best—being sneaky. She trailed Malfoy throughout the castle, learning all she could about him. And what she learned, she didn't necessarily like, but she didn't mind him as much as she thought she would.

As he went on with his normal day she laughed silently. He was not nearly as good as he thought he was. She had been following him all day and he had yet to notice—how thick could one boy possibly be?

Granted, she had borrowed (well, alright, stolen) Harry's cloak to complete the task of following him. But if someone were tracking her all day, invisible or not, she was sure that she would catch them.

In fact, just last month she had. Ron had been attempting to catch her doing something with some boy or another and had followed her around the castle, wrapped in his best friend's cloak. She, of course, had found him out within half an hour.

Draco Malfoy had been followed for a good three hours and had yet to even show signs of suspicion.

Chalk up five points for Ginny Weasley, she thought to herself.

As she continued to mentally congratulate herself on her excellent skills on spying Ginny failed to pay attention to the staircase—which had chosen to move—and promptly fell over. Dense as she found Malfoy to be, there was no doubt he had not taken notice of her clumsy, noisy fall.

Especially since one of her trainers was now exposed from under the cloak.

She hurriedly pulled her foot back under but it made little difference. Malfoy ripped the cloak off her with a savage anger.

Upon seeing her, though, his expression turned into one of surprise. "Weasley?" he said in an incredulous tone.

She stared defiantly up at him, "Yeah?"

He still held the cloak in his hands, "And just where did you come across an invisibility cloak? Stole it, no doubt—I know you can't afford one of these."

She sneered at him in a way that was eerily similar to his own facial expression. "Yeah and neither can you. Jealous, Malfoy? Everyone knows you've been trying to get your hands on an invisibility cloak for years."

He threw the cloak back down at her, "Regardless of that, Weasley—why in the bloody hell were you following me? Spying for Potter? Should've known he'd leave his dirty work to his fan club…"

"I'm not spying for Harry," she corrected with a scowl, "and I am most certainly not a member of his fan club." Anymore, she added silently.

"Right, well that's just fine and dandy, Weasley, but I'd appreciate it if you would just leave me alone!"

"I can't," she said with a smile. "I told you already, I'm determined to be your friend."

"Why would you want to be my friend?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

"To hack off Ron," she responded cheekily.

"Yeah well go find some other way to hack off your ape of a brother," he said gloomily, "go snog Potter or something."

"I would, but the thing is that Ron tries to kill any guy who comes near me anymore."

He narrowed his eyes, "So you're looking to get me murdered by your brother?"

Ginny appeared thoughtful for a moment. "No," she said slowly, "that isn't really the main goal—a cheery side-benefit perhaps, but not the key reasoning for my mission."

"Let me make something clear to you, Weasley. I don't like you. I think you are a poor excuse for a witch and the worst sort of Gryffindor. I have no desire to be your friend or to even talk to you."

"But tell me, do you think I'm pretty? Because I simply couldn't stand it if I were ugly on top of all those other faults!" Ginny grinned, amused by her own sarcastic comments.

Draco peered at her darkly, "Maybe if your hair weren't such a disgusting shade of red you'd be tolerable."

Ginny laughed openly at this. "And maybe if your hair weren't as white as my grandpa's you'd be tolerable."

He turned to leave but discovered that when the staircase had moved it had left them stranded. Draco scowled at Ginny as if this were entirely her fault, "Fix this!"

She stared for a moment to determine if he was serious. Once she decided he was, Ginny answered, "Sure, Malfoy just let me clap my hands and make it all better."

He stomped his foot, "I will not be stuck here with you!"

"Well," she said as she looked over the edge, "you could always jump. That'd make quite a few people happy, actually."

"Or I could push you off."

She gripped the side of the stairwell, just to be safe. "You'd be thrown in Azkaban."

"Some things are worth prison, Weasley."

"Well I'm sure your father would have loads to say on that subject," Ginny responded before she could bite her tongue.

Obviously, it wasn't the best thing to say to the boy she was attempting to befriend.

"Never," he said in a low tone, "ever talk about my father. Do you comprehend me, Weasley, or should I use smaller words?"

Ginny licked her lips out of nervous habit. "The stairwells never stay in the same place for long," she said for a subject change, "so we should be able to leave in a few minutes."

Draco slumped against the side of the banister, looking agitated. "Dumbledore would have something as needless as moving stairs," he said.

"Dumbledore didn't build Hogwarts you imbecile. It was probably your 'dear' Salazar Slytherin who came up this brilliant idea."

"Slytherin would have never come up with such a stupid idea," Draco defended passionately. "Now Gryffindor on the other hand…"

"Gryffindor was too busy building the Quidditch Patch," Ginny said breezily. She shrugged, "It was probably Helga Hufflepuff, anyway."

Draco grunted in agreement, "A Hufflepuff would think this was a good idea."

Ginny grinned at him, "So do you want to eat dinner with me tonight?"

Draco's jaw dropped and he looked affronted. "No! For the last time, Weasley, I want nothing to do with you!"

"Come on," she goaded, "I'll have you know that I'm very pleasant dinner company. I can give you a list of references if you like."

"I don't want a list of references, I don't want to eat dinner with you, and I don't want to talk to you! Just stop, Weasley—go find someone else to annoy."

"Well, I suppose I could just substitute Zabini. After all, one Slytherin git is as good as the other to befriend, right?"

"Zabini is a wanker," Draco commented darkly.

"Like it matters to you if I become friends with him or not," Ginny said as Draco stumbled into her trap.

"It doesn't. I hear you get around anyway so it should quite please Zabini that you've finally gotten around to him. He's been damn near obsessed with you since last year."

Ginny batted her eyelashes innocently, "Who, me? I can't imagine why he'd have any interest in me at all, but that is so flattering to hear. Perhaps dear Blaise and I can get together and who knows—maybe you'll be seeing me in your common room!"

Draco pounded his fist into the side of the stairs, "No! I'll not have some ruddy Gryffindor in the Slytherin common room! You stay away from Zabini."

"Well you said yourself that he fancies me—"

"He fancies your body," Draco interrupted crudely, "nothing more."

"Nevertheless, even a purely sexual relationship could last well into the year…yes; I expect you'll be seeing me in your common room and in your dorm room quite often."

"Fine!" Draco yelled. "I'll have bloody dinner with you if it means you'll stay away from Zabini and therefore out of Slytherin."

Ginny smiled, "But of course, Draco. I'd never want to upset a friend."

He appeared to be ill at her words but she didn't notice for long because the stairwell finally chose to move.

She hopped down the stairs and gave Draco a small wave, "I'll see you at dinner," she said cheerfully.

If possible, Draco looked more nauseated.