A/N: I've had a few calls for a sequel to Dirty Truce, so here it is. I'm thinking that I will continue this as a series of short vignettes. Need I remind all the government authorities that have nothing better to do than read fanfiction, I do not own or lay any claim over any of these characters. Once I find the loophole however…

Float My Boat

Well, that was one for the history books, Draco thought. A Slytherin snogging a Gryffindor. A Slytherin forming a peace treaty with a Gyffindor. A Slytherin laughing with a Gryffindor. Could the Weaslette truly be classified a Gryffindor? That was the question…

As he sat down in the Great Hall, nearly every Slytherin sidled away from him. Not so obviously that they would incur his infamous wrath, but with just enough contempt in their glares to tell him they were royally pissed off.

Draco slid closer to the boy on his right, smiling serenely. That always got a good reaction. If they were going to get all huffy over a stupid game he might as well take advantage of it. Intimidating little ones was always an enjoyable pastime.

And yes they were getting huffy. But so was everyone else, it seemed. The Weaslette had just walked calmly into the Hall and sat down in her usual spot at the Gryffindor table. Weasley senior had followed her in, yelling in her ear the entire time.

'Malfoy? Ginny! It's Malfoy, the ferrety gitty git. A slimy Slytherin. A ferrety Death Eater!'

'Ronald, Draco is not a death eater. He showed me so himself. And you're right. He is a ferret. Ferrets and weasels are so similar, its almost as if it was meant to be…' She looked up dreamily at her fuming brother. He really was too easy to provoke.

'Ginny! It's Malfoy! Merlin, it's started already! I should put you under a hose, wash all those Malfoy boogies off you. You've been tainted," he cried. 'No one will want you now!!!'

'Nonsense, Ronald,' she said as she buttered her bread. 'I can assure you, that whatever it was Draco and I were doing did not involve nasal fluids. And besides, Harry still wants me.' She smiled at the beet-red boy. 'Don't you, Harry.'

'Bwah huu harr wha?' came the intelligent reply. Ron was making an odd strangle noise. He didn't know whether to be grateful that Harry could take his sister out of Malfoy's hands, or if he should be repulsed by the thought of his best mate handling his baby sister!

'Oh, I'm sorry, sweet. Have I embarrassed you?' she leaned over and pinched Harry's cheek. 'Forgive me, but I only ever liked you for your body. And to be honest, that was years ago, and you're hands just can't compete with Draco's…you know what they say about men with large hands, don't you, Harry?' she smirked evilly – this was such fun!

'Ginny!' yelled Ron, covering his ears. The whole room stared as he did a little dance. 'My mind! I can't believe you're thinking about Malfoy's penis. I can't believe I'm thinking about Malfoy's penis!'

Even Peeves was staring at the redheaded boy as if he was wearing Snape's underpants. The smear-tracks alone…

It was his time to act. Standing, Draco put on his evilest, most attractive smirk, before walking to the Gryffindor table. He could basically hear all the girls swoon. He wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist, letting them come to rest just under the curve of her breasts.

'Weasley, I had no idea you felt that way. Unfortunately for you, it's Red here who floats my boat. Though I hear Goyle's looking…GOYLE!!' he shouted. 'Weasley here wants you! Come and get him!'

The large boy looked up from the leg of mutton he had been devouring cave-man style, his beady, watery eyes avidly searching out his prey. Suddenly, his head stopped scanning the room. 'Come on boy, get him. Get him!' came Draco's voice coaxingly. The noise was coming from so far away…so distant…so…

And he was off. With surprising speed, Gregory Goyle bee-lined for the terrified red head. Ron backed away theatrically before screaming like a little girl and sprinting out the door.

Ginny looked at Draco in wonder.

'That was so cruel.'

'Yeah, Malfoy, look what you've done,' piped up Harry rather feebly. Draco glared at him, his arms still wrapped around Ginny's waist. She was still staring wide-eyed at Draco.

'You just defended me – defended my honour – against my brother. Oh!' the girl flushed noticeably, turning in his arms to lace her hands flat against his chest.

'Ginny!'

'Did you like that, Red?'

'Ginny! Don't! Don't do it! Don't kiss him!!!'

'I shall kiss whom so ever pleases me, Harry. And right now, Draco pleases me…' and with that, she fiercely tugged Draco's ready lips down to meet her own. Her hands were trapped between them, and she could feel his flat nipples peak as she attacked his mouth, her tongue assaulting his in a wave of passion. She could feel him tighten his grip on her as she began to feel weak-kneed, increasing the depth of his exploration of her body.

'Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, while I admire the formation of inter-house relationships,' suggested the Headmaster, his eyes twinkling merrily, 'perhaps you two could…how do you say…'get a room'?'

The two hadn't even bothered to detach themselves from one another at their Headmaster's words. Draco simply nodded, muttered 'yes sir' out of the corner of his mouth, and started moving Ginny over to the door. Their migration was made easier when she wrapped her legs around his hips.

The whole room was still staring. Though some were now laughing at Harry, who had melted down the wall in a sea of frustration and regret and disgust. He was all red and puffy. He looked like something nasty had bitten him.

He blanched when the breathy 'oh, Draco' reached his ears from the hall leading to the Slytherin common room.

'Well,' began Dumbledore cheerily. 'I think that's enough entertainment for tonight. Anyone for-'

At that moment, the doors to the great hall sprang open to reveal a very harassed looking Ron Weasley, the besotted Goyle hot on his trail. Weasley was fun, Goyle had decided. No one usually put up this much of a fight.

Ron ran through the room, even leaping over the Hufflepuff table at one stage. Goyle followed his every step. The first years scrambled out of his way, praying to every god they knew to protect them from this rampaging possessed hippopotamus.

After that brief interlude, Ron, still screaming, streamed out the door. The door, strangely sentient, waited for Goyle to pass before slamming itself shut.

Dumbledore stared, his arm still raised.

'Anyone for treacle pudding?'

A/N: thank you SkyTreader52, harrypotterchick4ever, Miah Maddy, headoverheels4HP, and 3250, for reviewing The Dirty Truce. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to know you liked it. You guys pwn the world.