Summary: Draco's not in love with her. It's just a fleeting thing.

Word Count: 991

IT'LL GO AWAY

It couldn't be.

It just couldn't be.

I'd have to be out of my mind to ever even like that stupid girl. Just because she's all famous now, what with being the England's best Chaser and all that, doesn't mean I'll go all starry-eyed looking at her.

I mean, she isn't even that good-looking. OK, she has nice hair - better than nice, actually. It's kind of shiny and smooth and flows down her back like a cascade, and she's got a pretty face with freckles smattered across her nose and cheeks, and her brown eyes always make me feel somewhat strange - in a good way. But that's all, really.

Then there's that Dean Thomas. I have never seen him leave her side. He was her boyfriend, with emphasis on was, but he still likes to go to her and put his arm around her waist. I hate lovestruck idiots and I know he's just after her fame.

I am happily gazing at my drink like it contains the secrets of the Universe, when her annoying laugh pierces through my thoughts and makes me look at her. She is dancing with Thomas and grinning up at him. She stands out because of that fiery mane of hers, and she is wearing golden hoops in her ear, matching her sparkly golden dress. I hate the way she likes to wear all things disgustingly glittery and so bright that my eyes hurt.

She catches my eye over Thomas' shoulder and her smile disappears. I know why. We'd kissed the other day - by complete accident. Trust me, I'd never even touch her in my right mind. She'd gone to the Ministry to meet the Head of the Magical Games and Sports department, and I was there, too, because I had business with the Aurors. We ended up in a lift, alone, and one moment we're staring obstinately in opposite directions, and the next, she's pinned me against the wall of the lift and we're kissing the living daylights out of each other. Lately she's been having a weird influence on my senses. I mean, I kind of forget I despise her guts when I am alone with her and the air around us becomes sort of tense and different. I wish it would stop, but it only increases the more I see her. Maybe it's a wandless, non-verbal modification of the Confundus charm?

We're in the newest pub in London, where there's this 'reunion'. I didn't want to come, but Daphne was hell-bent on bringing me along. She might be my friend, but I strongly believe she has bad taste in partners. Longbottom, really?

I have a sudden urge to strangle Thomas because I can't stand the way he's holding her. See? It's happening again. I wish it was me she'd look and smile at, and not turn her face away from.

She stops dancing, and kisses Thomas on the cheek, before coming to join her friend Loony near the drinks counter. "My feet are sore from all that dancing," she states, taking off those pointy heels she's wearing and massaging her feet. Serves you right for dancing with the buffoon, I think.

I sip my Firewhisky, watching her talk with Loony. "Why did you break up with Dean if you still like him?" asks Loony.

She watches the people on the dance floor, and says, "I like him as a friend, and nothing more. Actually, I think I like someone else now."

Yeah, sure.

"Who is it?"

She shakes her head and refuses to reply. It makes me feel strangely hopeful, but I try to squash that stupid, useless feeling.

She looks around, and once again, our eyes meet. Hers widen, and she turns around to face the bartender. "A gillywater, please," she says in a throaty voice. She has a glass of the clear drink in her hand in no time, and she drinks it up rather quickly.

Oh no. She's coming towards me now. What the heck?

I am looking in the other direction, and no, it's not obvious that I am trying to avoid her. She comes up to me and clears her throat.

The lights of the pub are making weird patterns on her face. She bites her lip, and I mentally slap myself because I want to kiss her again.

"Malfoy?"

"What is it, Gi-Weasley?"

"Um..."

Wow, I never noticed my fingernails were so interesting... hmm.

She looks nervous, and she raises a hand to collect the stray hair on her face, wrap it around her index finger and then tuck it behind her ear. "I was, erm, thinking. Maybe - er - will you dance with me?"

What?!

"Dance with you?" I ask incredulously, "Weasley, just because things happened at the Ministry, don't think I'm going to start falling for you. Besides, Thomas is much better at dancing, and obviously you like him better. Go dance with him, why don't you?"

Her eyes are fierce and she says determinedly, "I want to dance with you, Draco."

Stop doing those sickening backflips, stomach. "Well, I don't, Ginny."

I realise belatedly that my words were very harsh, and she takes a step back. Her lip seems to quiver, and for a split second, I think she's going to cry. But she doesn't. She gives only a small nod, more like head jerk and she says, "Oh, OK. Right. See you around." And then she turns and walks away and I almost run after her.

Stop it, Draco.

It'll go away, I assure myself. It's a fleeting, a temporary thing.

There's no way I'm in love with Ginny Weasley.

It'll go away.

Thanks for reading!

-Miranda