Thank you for reading and reviewing the previous chapter. After today, it might take me slightly longer to update as I have a busy week ahead.

Thanks to Kiki, blood red crystal, MD, , l and sarah-keyko.

I do not own Harry Potter. And I never will.

Prisoner of Askaban

Draco Malfoy, Third Year, 8th September, 1993

I moan, hiding my smirk as my fellow Slytherins continued to fuss over my arm. 6 days in and they still believe it. Not even the Hufflepuffs believe it anymore. Still if it gets the oaf fired, I'll see how long I can keep up the act.

I excuse myself, telling Blaise that I need to see the nurse again. I stalk out the room, walking down the corridor, away from lessons. I clutch a small slip of paper that excuses me from lessons until my arm has recovered.

"Malfoy." I start, and look up from the floor, staring straight at Ginny Weasley.

"What?" I ask, and she doesn't say anything. "Still forgetting stuff then? Or did that stop once you gave up writing to the Dark Lord?"

Her eyes widen but otherwise she ignores what I said.

"It's stupid." She says it quietly. She's been quiet ever since the Chamber episode.

"What's stupid?" I sneer.

"Playing up your injury." I blink at her, grasping my arm tighter to pretend it's in pain.

"Did the Dark Lord possess you because you're stupid?" I wince. "My arm really does hurt. You've never been attacked by a Hippogriff, you wouldn't know."

"You've never been possessed by the Dark Lord." She snaps back. "He only possesses the ones clever enough to be able to even write a diary."

I sniff dismissively at her.

"Even if it hurts, you shouldn't make such a big deal out of it. You're only doing it to get Hagrid fired."

I smirk at her, walking off.

She grabs my bandaged arm but I don't react, shaking her hand away still walking. She grabs my arm again, tighter and I turn round.

"What?" I snarl and she laughs. I realise I didn't react as I should have; I had showed her that my arm didn't really hurt at all.

"Pathetic." She whispers. "It doesn't hurt you at all."

I smile. Ginny grips my arm even tighter.

"You're evil." She tells me.

"I'm not." I reply. "I just like getting out of classes." She looks astonished and I laugh again.

"Do you have any dignity?" she asks. I'm offended.

"Of course I have dignity." I sneer. "My father taught me it." She looks at me as if I must be lying. I grab her hand and kiss it, just like my father taught me. She laughs, pulling her hand away.

"People know you're faking it." She tells me. "If you keep pushing it, I'm sure that even the Slytherins will notice."

As I grimace, she leaves. I pull the permission slip out my pocket, using my unbandaged hand to rip it up.

Ginny Weasley, Second Year, March 13th, 1994

The library is loud. Ron's just come in with Harry and they're discussing Hermione. I gather she's missed class and slapped someone.

That announcement makes everyone else in the library start talking.

It's stifling.

I leave quickly, bag over my shoulder, walking straight into an empty corridor. Was everyone in the library?

Apparently not as three people come into the hall. One is hiding slightly behind two massive, stumbling morons.

I realise who it is.

"Malfoy?" I ask, and he sighs, telling his friends to go on. I ignore their strange looks.

"Weasley." He sneers stepping closer. His face is red on one side.

"It's Ginny." I tell him. "There's five Weasley's at Hogwarts. If you call all of us Weasley you might get confused."

"You call me Malfoy."

"There's one of you." He rolls his eyes and we stay silent. "Who slapped you?"

His hand rushes to his cheek.

"Was it Harry?"

"No!" he yells and I flinch. "Do you think I could bear to let Scarhead touch my face? I don't want it ruined."

"Well, it is anyway. So who was it then?"

"Why should I tell you?" he snarls.

"It was Hermione, wasn't it?" He stays silent. "Are you embarrassed that you got slapped by a muggleborn?"

Still silent. I poke his cheek and he winces.

"What was that for?" he whines.

"What was that for?" I point at the red mark and he moves away from my finger.

"I don't know." He shakes his head. "Clearly, the mudblood's losing it."

I slap him.

"What was that for?" he shouts. "Are you losing your mind?" His hands on his cheek again and I realise that I hit the same side as Hermione.

"Follow me." I tell him, walking towards the Grand Staircase.

"What for?" He complains, following me anyway. We go down the stairs, until we reach the kitchens. I tickle the pear in the picture, leading Malfoy inside. "The kitchens?"

"Fred and George told me where they were." I explain, asking a house elf for a bag of iced peas, before sitting at the table.

"I don't need help from you." He tells me, grabbing the iced peas and placing it on his face, wincing at the cold. "You don't even hit as hard as the mudblood." He smirks.

"Why did you come with me to the kitchens?" I ask and his smirk grows.

"I don't want to even be seen with this mark on my face." He explains harshly. "I'm sure the ice is making my face less bruised, so it's really all for my own...benefit."

My eyes widen. I grab the ice from him, kissing his sore cheek as an apology for the slap.

"Then do it yourself." I snap, ignoring his wide eyes. I hand him the ice pack and leave him there.

"I don't know the way back." He bellows after me.

I stay silent.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please review.

~Artjuice/Bexx