Disclaimer: The characters and the settings all belong to JK.

A fortnight later, the dreams hadn't stopped, and Ginny couldn't forget his eyes. The Trio and she were having lunch together in the Great Hall. Hermione was harassing the boys, reminding them that the NEWTs weren't far away and that they really ought to start studying more.

But Ginny stopped listening and turned back to her meal, playing with the food, ignoring the Golden Trio's usual bickering.

Her thoughts hadn't been much on studying either. They were turning around two, handsome but very disturbing boys. As it was, Draco Malfoy was occupying her mind as much, if not more, than Tom Riddle. No matter where she went, he always appeared to be there, silent, staring at her. She could almost feel his gaze on her when she walked down a corridor, went to lunch, tried to study in the library, and sometimes, when she went outside, on the grounds with her friends for a bit of fresh air. It gave her goosebumps.

But worst of all, even when he wasn't physically there, he was in her thoughts. When she entered a room and didn't find him, she felt…disappointed? No certainly not. But she couldn't deny that she was always looking for him, and when he isn't there, it feels like something is missing. She had become more or less accustomed to his presence. But under no circumstances would she let him know that she enjoyed his stalking. It would be the end of her. She would have to be very careful. She certainly hoped no one had noticed his sudden interest in her, or hers in him. Especially Hermione, she was very observant and perspicacious.

"…Hello! Gin, are you in there?." Hermione's voice broke threw her thoughts. In fact, it seemed she'd been talking to her for quite some time. She was waving her hand a few inches from Ginny's face.

Ginny's head shot upwards. Both boys were looking at her. "…um, I'm sorry, I drifted off for a moment, what were you saying?"

"It's ok" Hermione answered, but her look was still dubious. "We were just saying that Malfoy's been acting strangely. Haven't you noticed anything?"

"Malfoy? Me? Er…no. I haven't. Why? What should I have noticed?"

Hermione looked like she was fighting the impulse to roll her eyes, Harry answered in her place.

"Well, first of all, wherever we go, he always seems to be there. If it were anyone else, I could have believed it to be a coincidence, but not with him. Plus, he's always looking at us, well, staring would be more accurate. I feel like he's trailing us."

Ginny understood that feeling very well. She could affirm that in the past six days, she had seen more of him than in the past six years.

"Look!" Ron elbowed her quite painfully. "He's at it again! Staring at us" Immediately, Ginny turned her head towards the Slytherin table and there he was, a small arrogant smirk on his lips. But it was obvious it wasn't Harry, Ron or Hermione he was staring at. It was definitely her. And that smirk meant something, she was sure of it. His knowing smile could only be a bad omen.

"I bet he's preparing something. Something nasty." Ron continued. " Wonder what it is !" And whatever it was, Ginny could swear that it involved her.

"Well, I don't know, she lied, but I'm not staying to find out." Ginny started rising. "I need to see Collin before the DADA class, we have a project we're working on. See you later."

Turning around, she practically ran out the Great Hall, not even realising she went past Collin who was entering the Hall.

The reason she fled so piteously was that she wasn't able to stand his stare any longer. For two weeks he had been stalking her, at first she had just ignored him, but know, well, she took a certain pleasure in knowing that the Slytherin Prince was lusting after her, Ginny Weasley. And that, scared her. She could deal with unwanted attentions. That was not a problem. But how was she to do it if, her own mind wasn't made up?

She needed air. Putting her cloak on, she opened the massive door and ran out into the grounds.

As the wind whipped her face, Ginny looked up. The sky was grey and cloudy but it wasn't going to rain. She breathed deeply and started running towards the lake. She loved it there. It was always so peaceful. When she arrived, breathless from the effort Ginny loosened her tie and unbuttonned her shirt a bit to enable her to breathe. Her confusion hadn't diminished, but at least, here, she could let it out.

She grabbed a handful of pebbles and started skimming them on the lake. The sound of the water splashing as the little rocks entered it was oddly comforting. With all the strength that she could muster, she threw her last one further than any other. Still out of breath, she was debating whether to stop and head back towards the castle or to continue this stupid but soothing game.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I would say you're avoiding me."

Her lungs seized. She knew that voice, that sarcasm. Why was he here? She whirled around and wasn't disappointed.

"But every one knows Gryffindors don't run away. Do they? "

Ignoring his irony, Ginny concentrated her attention on his unusual appearance instead. There he was, hands in his pockets, ankles crossed, nonchalantly leaning against a tree, so unlike himself. Although it was cold, he wasn't wearing his cloak. His, usually neat shirt was all wrinkled and his sleeves were rolled up. His tie was even missing, and the wind was messing up his hair. Ginny felt the urge too run her hand threw them but very quickly chastised herself for such a thought. But she had to admit that, all in all, Malfoy was quite attractive.

Ginny must have been staring quite obviously, for, when her gaze reached his eyes, he raised a brow. Realizing she was gaping, she quickly closed her mouth and glared at him with the meanest stare she could muster.

"How did you…?" She gestured around with her hand. He couldn't have arrived from the castle; she would have seen him. And the only other way was through the forest.

A light sneer appeared on his face. "Magic" answered as if it were obvious.

"Stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like this ! Like you know something that I don't."

"Well, I wasn't aware that this is how I make you feel, but now that you mention it, there are a few things I know and you have yet to learn"

"Oh really? And what would that be? Would you care to enlighten me?"

Malfoy's brow rose. His gaze fell from her face to her feet and, very slowly, made its way up, obviously enjoying the sight of her short skirt blowing in the wind. She was trying to save some money and decided this skirt would do well enough for another year. Her unbuttoned shirt was showing a little cleavage, exposing pale flesh glistering with sweat, and her loose red and gold tie layed mischievously between the two mounds . As Draco's gaze rested a little longer than proper on her chest, Ginny was aware that with every breath she drew, her breast were heaving. The cold wind made her shudder and gossebumps appeared on her breasts, making making her nipples erect. But what Malfoy appreciated the most, was her lips, slightly parted, her flushed face and her hair, red locks escaping from her ponytail and clinging to her wet forehead. If he hadn't known better, he could have thought that Ginny Weasley had just had a passionate interlude with some unkown boy. That was certainly the image her attire evoke The tought hardened his body. By the time his eyes reached Ginny's her face had reddened even more, if that were possible. In opposition, Malfoy's expression was unreadable, as if he was wearing a mask. His eyes, however, were dancing with amusement.

"No. You can guess." After a moment, he added "But I could teach you all you need to know on that subject!"

Deciding to ignore the implication of his words, she asked him what she had been dying to know for the past two weeks.

"Why are you following me?"

"Following you?" A short chuckle escaped his lips. "Malfoys don't follow anyone. We just seem to find ourselves quite often in the same places." A smirk appeared on his lips, belying his words; the same smirk that he had earlier in the Great Hall.

"And if I could read your mind, I'd probably discover that you enjoy it."

Ginny turned pale. So he had found out.
Hiding her initial shock, she snorted disbelievingly. "Or not"

Ignoring her lie, he added "However, now that you mention it, I do have something of yours." he said pulling a red cloth from his pocket. Holding it between two of his fingers, he showed it to her. Immediately, Ginny recognized her missing knickers. He had kept them. Ginny's temper flared. How dare he?
"But, since you aren't very welcoming, I suppose, I'll just keep them."

Ginny wasn't about to let him simply put them back in his pocket.

It only took her a few seconds to reach him but it hadn't crossed her mind that he had planned her reaction. He knew her famous Weasley temper and had obviously anticipated her move. Before she could even try and grab them, she found herself trapped between him and the tree, her wrist firmly pinned above her head by his hands.

Her icy stare bore into him. Her eyes narrowed. "Let me go."

Her simple words held echoed of authority. He felt it, waited, then the ends of his lips lifted. "I don't think so."

Ginny tried to free herself as much as she could, but all she manage to do was to scrape the back of her hands against the trunk. His hold only seemed to tighten.

"But, if you give me what I want, we might be able to negotiate!"

Abandoning her vain struggle, she raised her head and looked supisciously into his eyes, his face just inches away from hers.

"What do you want ?"

He smiled. An authentic real smile. "I really thought I'd made that obvious enough."

A sudden seriousness appeared on his face. His gaze lowered to her lips. He bent his head and his lips swooped, arrogantly and settled over hers.

The first contact stunned her; not knowing how to react, she closed her eyes and let him try. The very concept of breathing drifted from her mind as his lips moved lazily on hers. They were neither warm nor cool, yet heat lingered in their touch. They pressed close, then eased, sipped, supped then returned. Firm and demanding, they impinged on her senses, reaching deep, stirring her.

He released one of her hands, and brought his in the small of her back, pressing her to him. Heat surrounded her, even through her thick cloak, it reached for her, enveloped her, then sank into her flesh. And grew, built, a crescendo of warmth seeking release. His hunger had infected her. Utterly distracted, she tried to hold back, tried to deny its existence, tried vainly to dampen it down.

And couldn't. She was facing ignominious defeat, with not a clue of what followed, when the hard hand holding her other wrist shifted. His warm palm framed her face; one thumb pressed insistently in the centre of her chin.

Her jaw eased, her lips parted.

He entered.

The shock of the touch of tongue against tongue literally curled her toes. She would have gasped, but that was impossible; all she could do was feel. Feel and follow, and sense the reality of that hot hunger, the surprisingly subtle, deeply evocative seductively physical need. And hold hard against the temptation that streaked through her.

Even while he took arrogance to new heights.

She hadn't thought it possible, but he gathered her more closely, imprinting her soft flesh with the male hardness of his. Ruthlessly confident, he angled his head, tasting her languorously, unhurriedly, as if he had all the time an the world.

Then, deliberately forgetting who was kissing her, she responded.

Instead of the soft hesitating response he expected, her lips firmed and she aggressively sank into the kiss. Lowering her hands she brought them to his head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. She wanted to punish him for making her surrender, for making her body crave, and for making her remember. Remember how she had already felt in his arms.

Triumph streaked through Draco; he mentally crowed. He'd laid her resistance to rest. She was pliant yet a real tigress in his arms. A groan escaped his lips as he felt her teeth biting hard on his lower lip. The heady sensation went strait to his head.

And straight to his loins.

She was no simple girl. Her three words, her attitude, had reeked of authority. No shy little girl would have had the confidence to command him, of all men, to "Let me go." She was not a girl, but a woman, and she fitted very well, supple and curvaceous in his arms.

In the back of her head, Ginny heard a bell ring, but disregarded it. It was he who pulled back and ended the kiss. He raised his head and looked into her eyes.

Anger was what he saw and felt. If her warm, pliant body hadn't been moulded against his, he would have shrunk back.

Slowly, he let go of her face, his fingers reaching for his lips, where the little bitch had bit him. He could feel the sweet metallic taste of blood. Looking at the red liquid on the tips of his fingers, he sneered then looked back at her.

"Not so innocent after all, are you? "

Ginny pushed him back, whirled around and stalked off towards the castle, ignoring his words.

He watched until she disappeared from sight, then stirred, straightened his shoulders and, lips curling into a wolfish smile, strolled unhurriedly in her wake. Thinking, somewhere on the way back, that he still had her knickers.

AN: I'd love to be able to tell you that I'll update soon but I'm afrais that's not possible. I have never had so much work to do. This year is my final year and if I want to enter the university I want, I'll have to work more than ever. But I'm doing my best. Hope you understand. And reviews are always welcomed.