Draco grumbled as he made his way toward Madam Pince's office in the back of the library. I can't believe that I have to serve detention with this crazy old woman just because I threw some spells at the Weaslette. It's not like any of them hit her… unfortunately. As he approached the door, she motioned for him to come in and take a seat.
"We're just waiting on one more before I get you started." Aha! I won't be alone at least. I hate being alone in the dark, musty corners of the library… Err, I mean, this way I won't have to do any work? Oh bloody hell.
A moment later, Draco heard loud, rushed footfalls approaching the office. Must be some uncivilized first-year. Making all of that racket in a library? Honestly. Before he could see who it was, he heard, "Sorry, I am late, Madam Pince. I got stuck on one of the staircases," and a flustered redhead plopped down beside him and attempted to catch her breath.
"Oh, its you," Draco said spitting out the word as if it was dirty.
Ginny grimaced up at him. "Indeed. I am me and you are you. Glad we got that cleared up."
Draco made to say something, but Madam Pince's voice cut him off. "Since neither of you seem to understand how to use a library like civilized beings, I thought that you could work together inventorying a donation that we received. You will be cataloging the books and placing them on the shelves. It is an important task and you need to take your time. Luckily, you both have two weeks worth of detentions to serve on the project. Rushing won't make them go by any faster. I'll show you to the room now," and she stood, motioning for them to do the same. Draco glared openly at the redhead, who promptly ignored him and followed Madam Pince. How dare she ignore me? No one ignores a Malfoy and gets away with it!
He entered a small room at the far end of the library behind the restricted section. As they had walked past the rows of restricted books, Draco had noted how Ginny looked longingly at them, and made a point to ask her later. In the center of the room were no less than fifty boxes of books.
Ginny groaned audibly and Draco shared a significant look with her that clearly said, 'Madam Pince is off her rocker.'
"Alright Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, get started. If you have any questions, you know where to find me." She left and closed the door behind her.
"What did I do to deserve this?" Ginny asked as she sunk to the floor as the base of the pile of boxes.
"Besides steal my book, you mean?" Draco asked with his eyebrow raised.
"Of course."
Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed a box to sit at the small table with. He opened it gingerly removed its contents- several small, old, leather-bound books. "So we just catalog these things?"
"That would be what she said," Ginny replied sarcastically.
"You know, Ginevra, a little less hostility would go a long way."
Ginny looked taken aback. "Less hostility? Did that actually just come out of your mouth, Malfoy? That's rich coming from the prince of hostility himself."
"Ahh yes. I am Malfoy. Hear me roar. I'm so mean and you are so misunderstood. Isn't that how it goes?"
"Shut up."
"Very witty, Ginevra."
"Stop calling me that. It freaks me out."
"It's your name. But if you like I can go back to calling you Weaslette. It is certainly more dignified than Ginny."
Ginny let out a strangled sigh of exasperation, pulled a box to herself and began working in silence. The next two hours were spent in silent concentration broken every now and then by a biting comment from Draco. The girl can't just ignore me like that! It's just not normal. Normal girls fawn over me like Pansy. Well, I suppose that Pansy isn't so much normal, as a horrific excuse for a pureblooded female, but that is beside the point.
Tired of arguing with himself and being ignored by the she-Weasel, Draco said, "I liked you better when you were hostile. Can we go back to that? This is so boring." He punctuated the word, 'boring,' by loudly dropping a book on the table, which promptly erupted in a cloud of dust causing Draco to cough uncontrollably.
Ginny merely eyed him curiously until he had finished, "Are you quite done with that yet? Good. You were the one who told me that I was being too hostile, so I chose the higher path and decided to just ignore you."
"Ah yes. The higher path. That is what your lot fight for, isn't it?"
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "My lot?" she asked. "And what do you pretend to know about my lot?"
Draco leaned back in his chair and placed his feet up on the table. He gazed at the redhead appraisingly while primly crossing his hands in his lap. Finally he spoke, "You were in league with Dumbledore and his band of "evil" fighters." He motioned air quotes when he said evil, and Ginny rolled her eyes. "You fight for the nonexistent rights of the muggles and mudbloods, as if they deserve the same rights that we purebloods do. Your family is a bunch of traitors who are too busy fawning over the-boy-who-just-won't-die to realize that if they had half a brain, they would forget about everyone but themselves and maybe they'd have enough money to buy you some decent robes." He sneered as he looked over her robes with disdain.
"Is that quite all?"
Draco's eyes narrowed. How can she be so calm. I just insulted everything she stands for. And her hideous robes, for Merlin's sake. She must be mental.
"Are you mental?" he asked.
Ginny laughed until she couldn't breathe, and when she finally calmed herself enough to wipe the tears from her eyes, she saw Draco at his table looking alarmed and ready to run. She sighed and shook her head.
"You have no idea, Malfoy."
"Lets get two things straight. One, my name is Draco, not Malfoy. Two, I happen to know a lot about your ridiculous little order, because my father told me." Bollocks. I know because my father told me? What like he is the authority of truth? Again with the father-worship. Save face. Take it back now. Before he got a chance to, however, Ginny stood, walked over, and sat cross-legged on his table.
"Alright, Draco, what makes you so sure that I am a part of that order? What makes you think that I am just like my family?"
"I just know it." Way to go, Draco. Lame. "You are always hanging on Saint Potter, and he is the leader now that the old fool is gone."
"Ahh. Potter. Yes, well, I was stupid. I know better now," she raised her eyebrow as if daring him to refute it. "I'm done with the order, and I'm done with Harry. He took over after Dumbledore, and since then everyone looks to him as a god-figure or something. It's sick. They are all as bad as your lot following Voldemort's every whim."
"Time to turn the tables, I think. What were your exact words? Something like 'My lot? What do you pretend to know about my lot?'"
Ginny smirked. "Touche. Well, I know that you believe in pureblood superiority. You are sheep under Voldemort trying to purge the world of all muggles and muggle-borns. And you're all completely nutters, because Voldemort himself is half-blooded."
Draco tried to retain a shred of dignity as he let the shock of her last statement sink in. "What makes you think that, Ginevra?" He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and hands clasped together.
"Ahh. So you didn't know then? Not that I am surprised. Not exactly something you'd want leaking out if you were Voldemort is it? Let's just say that in my first year I got to know a 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' a little closer than I would have liked."
"Your first year? Does that have something to do with the Chamber of Secrets?" He hated to ask so many questions. It made him look like he was interested in what she had to say, but truth be told, he was interested despite himself.
"Does that have something to do with the Chamber of Secrets?" she parroted. "And here I thought that you were Daddy's little lap dog. He didn't tell you anything did he? Tom Marvolo Riddle was Voldemort's name when he was at school here fifty years ago. His dad was a muggle. His mum a pureblood."
"The diary. Did my father give that to you?" I remember that. He said that he was going to give it to someone at school and the Dark Lord would rise again.
"Yes, Draco, he did. Very brave man, your dad, letting an eleven-year-old girl do his dirty work."
Draco frowned. He had no idea that his father had stooped so low. It was a horrible thing to do to the girl. But rather poetic, too, he thought. Letting the chamber be opened by the daughter of on of Dumbledore's biggest supporters. He shook his head. It was cowardice on my father's part, though, which is precisely why I refuse to be a part of that any longer.
"I am not my father, you know."
Ginny gazed at him moment before nodding her head and saying, "I know."
"And I am not one of the Dark Lord's followers. I tried that, and it didn't suit me."
Before he realized what had happened, Ginny had grasped his left are and pulled up the sleeve. There was nothing there but pale skin, and white-blonde peach fuzz for arm hair. She frowned and he snatched his arm back.
"Are you completely mental? Or did your fat mother never teach you any manners? Honestly woman, your lucky I don't just kill you now and rid myself of your social malfunctions. But I'd only inconvenience myself, so I think I'll save that for another day."
"Right. No mark? I was sure that you had one. Well, technically Harry was sure that you had one. Another reason not to trust the boy. He doesn't seem to have a clue what he is talking about." Draco watched her working things out to herself. Finally she looked up at him. " Did you just say that you tried that, and it didn't suit you? Didn't suit you? Like it was some kind of hobby? You really are sick, you know that."
Draco shrugged. Why am I even talking to her? She is not even worth my time. I suppose I thought that before I realized that she had so much spunk, though. I mean, honestly. She thought that she could get away with just pulling back my sleeve and checking for a mark? She's either very brave or very stupid. Despite myself I think I may have to go with the first. She certainly doesn't seem very stupid. And she's been though a lot. My father's diary included.
Ginny watched his mental dispute and smiled slightly. Maybe the guy wasn't so bad after all. Completely self-involved, possibly mental, and in possession of the most distorted set of priorities known to wizard-kind, but not all bad. He was interesting at least, which is far more than she could say about her angsty ex-boyfriend.
A few minutes later Madam Pince entered the room and told them that they could go home for the night, and that they would begin at the same time the next day. As Draco and Ginny exited the library, Draco inclined his head toward the redhead and said, "Goodnight, Ginevra."
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "Goodnight- Draco." He smiled at her pained use of first name and turned toward the dungeon wondering what in Merlin's name had come over him that evening.