Take It Off

By Natasha Shaitanova

Disclaimer: I don't own The Donnas lyrics and I don't own Harry Potter. Ya, Ya old news.

Ginny slouched behind the bar counter at Three Broomsticks and sipped leisurely on her FireTequila. She was never much of a whiskey person on a Friday night—a good bottle of Jack Daniels was welcomed on a brooding night by the fire, but going out definitely required something spicier.

She leaned forward against the counter and winked at the cute bartender, securing a free refill at moment's notice. She knocked back a gulp or two, before a strong, snow-white (oops sorry, that doesn't sound quite masculine enough…) hand took her wrist and brought it back down to the counter.

Draco Malfoy smirked (i.e. twisted his mouth crookedly to the side in imitation of movie actors who actually pull it off), "Drowning the sorrows of a slow pace this night, Weaslette?"

Ginny ignored the occupational jibe as she took in the silky, black shirt and fitting grey trousers. Had the ensemble not succeeded in raising the temperature a few dozen degrees around the bar, she would have commented on how it would have fit perfectly at a gay club. Nevertheless, such thoughts slinked away quietly in the tequila-induced haze.

I'm on my second drink
But I've had a few before...
I'm tryin' hard to think
And I think that I want you on the floor
Uh huh, yeah on the floor!

"Tequila, Weslette?" Draco nodded to the drink whilst loudly ordering a whiskey on the rocks, "Are you testing fate?"

Ginny tried to cock her head to the side, but only managed to wobble it slightly. "What are you on about Malfoy?"

"Don't tell me you don't have a Tequila Story, Weasley…" Draco glanced dubiously at the redhead, not-so-surreptitiously taking in the slipping black tank top and red bra-straps.

"No…" Ginny leaned toward her companion, "You wanna tell me a bedtime tequila story, Malfoy?"

Go on and take it off

Take it off!
You gotta shake it off baby, for me
C'mon and break me off
Break me off!
'Cause I get what I want and I like what I see

Ginny followed Malfoy's stare and blatantly adjusted her bra straps, flicking her hair off her bare shoulders as she did so. Draco carefully swallowed. His Malfoy Pride ™ would not allow a nosebleed.

"Weaslette…" Draco paused before bravely continuing, "Is that the Victoria's Secret brand?"

"Naturally," Ginny swallowed the rest of her green, smoking tequila, "It's the witch's edition—pure lace but charmed like a WonderBra. Wanna see it?"

"Well, actually," Draco just knew the conversation was not going to end well, "Mother's Day is approaching and I was wondering if there were any more of that design left…"

Ginny blinked, "Malfoy, I swear to Potterism and any other major religion, if you are confessing to the Oedipus complex…"

"NO!"

Need your love 1,2,3
Stop starin' at my D cup
Don't waste time, just give it to me
C'mon baby, just feel me up
C'mon, just give it up

"I am just killing two screwts with one curse, Weaslette," Draco allowed the whiskey to burn his throat in response to the accusation, "Dammit, when I die and go to hell, I will seek out Freud and kill him all over again."

Ginny tried to register the meaning of the words as her brain cells put on sombreros and sang La Cucaracha, "What makes you think Freud is in hell?"

"The man was sex-obsessed, closet Oscar Wilde," Draco announced with the air of scholarly superiority, "There's no doubt about it."

Go on and take it off
Take it off!
You gotta shake it off baby, for me
C'mon and break me off
Break me off!
'Cause I get what I want and I like what I see

Ginny hummed along with her mental fiesta before jumping off her stool, a touch wobbly as the stilettos strove to support her figure (yes, Pam Anderson was her hero and role model), "Let's cut straight to base 2, why don't we?"

"Do refrain from American colloquialisms, Weasley," Draco set down his empty tumbler and stood up, "Trying to stomach thoughts of cowboys, Michael Jackson, Gitmo, and Schwarzenegger all at once after a glass of whiskey may prove difficult."

"Well, aren't you wearing a Michael Jackson shirt anyhow, Malfoy?" Ginny tugged clumsily at the soft material, causing several buttons to pop off in the process.

"Weasley, for the last time, I am not a pedophile and I am not in love with my mother!"

Draco gulped as a hush fell over the bar and every occupant skewered him with glares (very Silence of the Lambs, all in all).

Forget the application...
You're the right guy for the task
Let me take you on vacation
Just do it, you don't have to ask!

"Come on, Draaayco," Ginny whined and linked her arm with Malfoy's, "They just don't appreciate your creativity. Let's go—my brothers gave me this new product and I can't wait to try it out. See, it—"

Ginny never got around to explaining what exactly the product did as Draco clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged the two of them out of the bar. Outside, he wasted no time in grabbing a passerby's scarf, almost choking the poor third year as he pulled it off his neck.

He proceeded to shove the scared (trembling-like-Trelawney-about-to-wet-his-pants) student back into the crowd and wiped his hand exaggeratedly on the garment.

"Merlin, Weaslette, did you dump the whole bottle of Luci's Lucious Lip Potion on your mouth?" he huffed, "I only use three and a half drops."

Ginny ignored the off-beat comment, "We left my coat inside. I'm freezing!"

"You wouldn't be if you wore a bit more than five inches of clothing," even as Draco said this, he couldn't help but sound approving and appreciate the fact.

Go on and take it off

Take it off!
You gotta shake it off baby, for me
C'mon and break me off
Break me off!
'Cause I get what I want and I like what I see

"It's convenient," Ginny crossed her arms, "See, I don't have to take off anything. You, on the other hand…"

"Man thongs are not my style, Weaslette," Draco popped the collar on his jacket and sniffed the air (the effect was ruined as he chocked on the smell of thestral…ahem….fertilizer), "But I suppose I could always swipe one from Blaise, but he's very possessive."

Even Ginny looked thoughtful.

Take it off
Take it off!
Take it off baby, for me
Take it off
Take it off!
Take it off baby, for me.

"Well…" the redhead mused, "Getting Harry's might be easier, if you don't mind red lace."

Review because all of you secretly think Tom Felton in a red lacy thong is a very intriguing idea...

NS