Hey you guys. Here's Chapter 2. I have no FREAKING idea how many chapters there are going to be. But I decided to bust this one out, just the same. And oh, sorry about the length. I tried to make this one 'beefier'.

THE APPLE OF MY EYE: CHP 2

I never really did like carrots. They were much too orange, for my taste. I'm really glad my hair was red, and not orange, like those carrots. Did you know that if you eat enough of them they will turn your skin orange? It's true; the pigments found in carrots are the same ones that make leaves turn orange in the fall. Not like that matters. But you know, I really, really started to despise carrots after I had to stare at them for a whole hour. Those god damned carrots were the only thing keeping my eyes from one of two things.

The first was my brother, Ronald. It's not that I minded looking at Ron. I mean yeah, he was a right bit funny looking at times, but he was my brother after all. I had to cut him a bit of slack in that department. But, you see, if I looked at Ron, I couldn't help but notice (nor could anyone else, for that matter), the unusually large bump protruding from the back of his head. I could pretty much guarantee without a fraction of a doubt that I would burst into laughter if I met his eye. The purple face of his still burned in my mind from only hours ago.

If anyone so much as gave Ron a second glance, he would promptly stand up from the table, and make a grand show of slamming his fork down onto its surface, all the while giving the unlucky onlooker a glare that would probably kill a sick cat. So you can imagine why I didn't exactly think it would be appropriate to start laughing hysterically at his predicament. Though, it was quite funny when he did that the last time. His fork had acted like a catapult, causing the contents of the gravy bowl to be launched at his knit sweater. That was the first reason to look at the carrots.

The second reason was a different kind of situation entirely. I'm not sure how it happened to work out this way, but as it was, Draco Malfoy was currently positioned directly in my line of vision at the Slytherin table. Now on any other day, I wouldn't have thought this to be so horrible. On the contrary, it could have been almost enjoyable. It was just that one moment that had made everything so…strange! Why did he have to look at me with those steel eyes of his and act like I wasn't plaguing his existence? He had acted almost normal around me, happy even. And that smile! Merlin, that smile! It didn't make me giddy, but god how I wanted to look up at him and smile back, which was entirely out of the question, as I mentioned before. I couldn't be on the list. No one could know. Ron was sitting across from me, and if I smiled at Draco Malfoy, Ron would know. The twit.

Proceeding the aforementioned event, Draco and I seemed to have an unspoken understanding. We simply ignored each other. Then, when forced to acknowledge one another's presence, we either glanced at each other uncomfortably, or started arguing feverishly, depending on how we felt that day. Usually, we didn't seek each other out, like he and Ron or Harry did. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the only times we really did argue was when he had some of his stupid gang members around him picking fights with me first, or when we got matched up against each other in Quidditch. You couldn't blame us for that one, though. I was competitive, and he was determined.

So there I sat, wondering idly if I should just stuff the disgusting carrots into my mouth and stalk out of the Great Hall. I didn't trust myself enough for that. I knew the instant I raised my head my eyes would betray me, and seek him out.

"Oie, Ron! Can I take your picture?" a cheery voice called from behind him, shaking me from my thoughts. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. Collin. I cursed inwardly. Though he had improved immensely since his first year, some things about a person never changed, and we all knew how Collin loved his camera. I brought a hand to my eyes, and shook my bowed head, waiting for the impending doom.

Harry grunted loudly and shook his head a smidgen, his eyes steadfast as he stared at Collin. Collin merely grinned at Harry. Ron fidgeted.

"I don't think so, nope," his tone was dark, and if I hadn't known him for the previous 15 years of my life, I would have almost been scared. Except for it was Ron, and all thoughts of scary Ron that had ever possibly resided in my head were replaced by memories of ickle Ronnie-kins running around the burrow wearing nothing but his white underwear and my pink socks.

"Aww come on, Ron! It'll be a great memoir!" Harry choked on his peas. Hermione dropped her spoon, a few seats down I think. Ron turned around, slowly, to face Collin.

"A memoir?"

"Yeah, you know, way to remember the good times!" Oh good god, Collin. The Great Hall had grown a bit too quiet for my liking.

"G-good times!" Ron sputtered, his voice rising. I knew it was coming soon. See, when Ron gets mad, he's actually quite predictable. First, he attempts to dismiss you with a usually pathetic remark. Upon failure of dismissal, he begins to redden in the face a bit, which wasn't saying much for Ron. Beyond that, his voice grows increasingly louder, the angrier he gets. I tried not to recall what the last stage was, for it usually resulted in either an incident of immense embarrassment for Ron, or violence. Sometimes both, if you really knew how to push his buttons.

"Yes! You're a riot, Weasley! Lookit you! If I put your picture in the school paper, I just know that everyone would just eat you up! No pun intended!" Oh no Collin! No no no no! Harry began to actually choke on his peas this time, coughing violently. I reached across the table and clobbered him a good one on the back.

"And just what in your incredibly thick skull makes you think I want people ogling at a picture of ME? Do YOU think I look like a riot Harry? Anything unusual that would interest anyone in the slightest!" Ron bellowed. I could see his muscles tense beneath the gravy stained sweater.

Harry, who just moments earlier had finally freed his windpipe with the help of yours truly, was gasping for air. Evidently, Ron took one of the deeper, throatier wheezes as his reply.

"SEE! Harry doesn't think so! Now just take your little camera away from my completely normal face before I-"

(Click).

I don't know if it was the flash from the camera that made me sit there, completely still and speechless, or just sheer shock. I suppose it was a bit of both. The series of events that followed seemed to take place in slow motion.

In a period of about 20 seconds, 5 very significant things took place.

Ron grabbed two fist-fulls of Collin's collar, lurched around, and slammed him onto the table top.

2. He released one fist full of his shirt, taking hold of the arm still clutching the camera, and thwacked it against the table. The camera flew out of Collin's grip before his arm even hit the surface, and landed with a rather undamaging squish, on a tray of jello cubes.

3. Regrettably, Ron didn't take into account the fact that there was a rather large bowl of mashed potatoes under Collin's arm when he smashed it against the table, hereby repeating the events of earlier, and rocketing the gooey vegetable goodness straight up into my dear brother's freckled face.

4. All of that took about 8 seconds. The next 3 were completely silent. Then, as if in unison, nearly the whole Gryffindor table erupted into a fit of laughter. I still don't know if that was to my benefit or not. I tried my absolute hardest. Really, I did. I tried everything I knew of. I bit my tongue, closed my eyes, pretended to cough, the whole shootin' match. But even all of those things couldn't keep me from laughing, and I knew it was a losing battle.

5. I looked up, and in my moment of weakness, I broke the rules. I looked away from those bloody carrots, and there, with the most utterly ridiculous expression of both shock and absolute joy, was Draco Malfoy. He wasn't laughing, not yet. But then he did it. He smiled at me, quite intentionally this time. The most horrifying part of it was, I smiled back. The next thing I knew, we were both laughing.

Ron turned white. I don't know if he noticed me laughing or not, but apparently he didn't want to stick around to find out. He turned, storming towards the double doors at a furiously fast walk. It was then that the guilt began to wash over me. Chancing a final look at Malfoy, I swallowed as the corner of his infuriatingly scrumptious looking mouth turned upwards in a smile. He shook his head, and I felt my breath do that annoying catchy thing again.

Thankfully, a fellow Slytherin nudged him, and directed his attention elsewhere. I honestly don't know if I would have been able to move if he hadn't stopped looking at me.

I jumped up from the bench, and jogged after Ron, tripping over my robes in my haste.

"Ron!" I called, over the shouts of the delirious students. If he did hear me, he didn't pay any attention. He wiped angrily at his face, sending a handful of ruddy potatoes to the floor.

I followed him through the doors. He was headed towards the boys' washroom, but I was determined to head him off. I mean come on, my poor brother! He had just had one of the most utterly humiliating days in his life! I was required to do something.

"Ron you know full well you're going to have to face me sooner or later!"

"I don't think you want to see my face right now, Gin," he muttered miserably. I sighed.

"Don't be silly Ron, I'm not scared of potatoes."

"She's got a point, Weasley. I'm sure seeing that face of yours would brighten up anyone's day," a smooth drawl mused from no more than a foot behind me.

I thought I was going to have a stroke at age 15. My spine startled to prickle and I visibly shuddered.

Maybe it was because he was standing so close to me. Maybe it was because he had somehow appeared behind me unnoticed. Either way, I could almost feel Draco Malfoy's breath on my neck.

There's Chapter 2. Next chapter will be out in a week or less!

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