Picking Flowers

| IV | Toes

If Ginny thought she had been in a foul mood after her disastrous Transfiguration class that day, she'd had no idea a mood like the one she was currently in could even exist. She walked out of her two hour detention feeling as though all of her energy had been sucked out of her. She could hardly find enough strength to keep herself from slouching and dragging her feet along the stone floors. She was reminded, as her eyelids drooped lazily, that she had not gotten much sleep last night. A spike of hot irritation flared up in her stomach. The gruelling hours she had just spent cleaning and reorganizing mouldy cabinets had been Draco Malfoy's fault, and so was her lack of sleep. She thought that her evening might have gone much better had she at least been able to shout at the git after the disaster he had caused today--but, of course, he had, ever so conveniently, disappeared at the end of class.

The halls were silent and empty. The lamps on the walls had been dimmed, and they cast flickering shadows across her path. It was probably past curfew already, but Ginny took the long way back to Gryffindor Tower, wanting to be alone with her thoughts. She had brushed Colin off angrily before dinner, and she wasn't quite ready to apologize to him yet. Not that he had done anything wrong--of course he hadn't--it had just been her own sour mood. Draco Malfoy had simply ruined her entire day, and she wasn't yet ready to start putting it back into order.

Ginny found herself drifting into a pleasantly meditative state. Tomorrow was Friday, and then at last it would be the weekend. Although she had no plans, the very thought of a lazy Saturday morning brightened her spirits. Sleeping in would be a very welcome way to spend her time. After that she could have a large, late breakfast, and then she could catch up on all the assignments she was sure she had neglected to do the past two days.

"Weasley!" someone whispered hoarsely, and Ginny spun around quickly. She had just passed the entrance to a passage that branched off of the one she was using, and, nestled in the shadows behind a glinting suit of armor, was Draco Malfoy. As if he needed to hide. The bastard could probably just walk right through the wall. He gestured toward her, urging her to join him, but Ginny decided that she'd had enough of him today. She turned her back and made to keep on walking. Ignoring him would be best for both of them.

She grunted as one of his hands clapped over her mouth, and his other arm fastened around her waist. She made to struggle, but he seemed to move her swiftly and with plenty ease back into the darkness of the hall from which he had come. Ginny was reminded of his Quidditch-toned body--and she blushed, realizing that she was pressed right up against him. Damnit, Ginny thought: weren't ghosts supposed to be unable to touch the living? Didn't all the other ghosts at Hogwarts walk right through people? And how on earth had he managed to be so warm? It was like the skin beneath his rumpled uniform burned right through her body.

She recognized the fact that they had stopped, just out of the way of the light that filtered in from the hallway where she had been walking. He appeared to be leaning against a wall, but he had not removed his hands from her form. "I need you to be very quiet, Weasley," he whispered to her, and, to her surprise, breath ghosted over her skin. Ginny rolled her eyes, but could not help the slight thrill of fear that ran through her body. Why did he need her to be quiet? Why on earth did he appear to be holding her hostage in a darkened corridor? And why did he feel so damn alive with his body aligned to hers as it was?

She heard the soft plodding of padded feet, and a feline mewl that sounded, even to her ears, suspicious and menacing. She understood. Malfoy had somehow known that Mrs. Norris would be making an appearance at any moment, and he had decided to save her. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at once. Draco Malfoy deciding to save her, Ginny Weasley? It sounded amazingly far-fetched even in her own head, and Ginny nearly chuckled at her own stupidity. It was only the fact that she had Malfoy's palm pressed to her face that prevented her from alerting the miserable cat to her presence. She had just completed a detention--the last thing she needed was another one.

Everything was very quiet for a few moments, and Ginny eyed the mouth of the corridor tensely. She saw the cat stalk past, its grey and brown fur slicked back as though it were searching for prey. How she hated that cat! It had caught her several times in the past few years, and she had served one too many detentions with Filch as a result. She shivered and, to her surprise, Malfoy seemed to hold her more tightly. She frowned, but didn't try to move. There was no telling whether or not the cat had gone far enough for it to be considered safe. She wouldn't want to compromise what was turning out to be a narrow escape.

Finally, several minutes passed, and she felt Malfoy's arms relax around her. She moved away immediately, taking it as a sign that all was clear, and turned to face him. He watched her intently, and Ginny chewed the inside of her cheek. She didn't want to say it, but she supposed it would be best, just in case he actually had done it out of kindness or remorse or something.

"Thanks, Malfoy," she said quietly, watching his handsome face in the darkness that surrounded them.

He smirked at once. "Oh, don't worry, Weasley. I didn't do it for you." She glared, but he continued. "I thought maybe you would have cooled down after your detention. Did you have fun cleaning all those shelves? There were some nasty cobwebs, weren't there? But I guess you're used to that."

Ginny's anger gushed to the forefront, and she placed her hands on her hips. She was far too tired to verbally spar with him, so she would just take the easy, mature way out. "If that's all, I'm going back to Gryffindor Tower now." She spun on her heel, but one of his strong hands had reached out and grabbed her forearm, that same self-satisfied smirk still on his face.

"Wait, wait, Weasley. I think you owe me a favour now that I've saved you from the cat and Filch." Ginny didn't think it was possible to get any more angry than she already was. It was no wonder he had 'saved' her. He needed something done that only someone alive could do, and he intended to use her!

"Go find someone else," she said, stubbornly, "I refuse to do the likes of you any favours." He made a face, his grip on her arm becoming dangerously hard. The smirk had been wiped off his face.

"If you haven't noticed, Weasley," he said, as though through grit teeth, "You're the only one who can see me."

Ginny had noticed. First there had been the scene with him in the Transfiguration classroom. Then, he had lurked very obviously around the Slytherin table during dinner. Not one person, other than Ginny herself, had seen him. She turned to face him once again, biting her lip and staring unabashedly down at his hand clasped around her arm. "And that's not my fault, is it?"

"At least listen to what I'm asking," he said, still not sounding one bit like he was about to ask.

Ginny looked at him for a moment. He looked like he was suppressing some sort of desperation. "Fine, Malfoy. I'll hear you out."

"Good," he said, releasing her arm at once, and leaning relaxedly back against the wall. Irritation made Ginny bite her lip. He really was insufferable. "I need you to walk down to the Quidditch pitch. That's all."

"When?" she questioned, her mind already working over why Malfoy would possibly want her to do that.

"Tonight. Right now."

Ginny was suddenly very aware of how tired she was--and how annoyed she was, too, especially at the person in front of her. He hadn't even said please! Well, if he thought he could act like some sort of spoilt brat and get everything damn thing he wanted--and after what he had put her through today, too!--he had another thing coming to him.

"Absolutely not." She turned around, her feet propelling her in the direction of the Gryffindor Common Room.

She heard a growl of frustration, and then his quick footsteps as he caught up with her. "Why not?"

Ginny had to stop herself from laughing. He sounded like a petulant child! "Because I am exhausted, Malfoy. And you are utterly unbearable to be around for more than thirty blasted seconds."

He stopped abruptly, and Ginny could practically feel the fact that he had crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest. She kept walking, determined not to look back. "Tired, are you?" he mocked, a taunting tone in his voice, "You don't know the meaning of tired, yet!"

Ginny glanced over her shoulder as everything went eerily quiet. The hall behind her was empty. He was gone, and what he had just said could not bode well at all.

A cold draft over her feet roused her from her deep, restful sleep. She squinted groggily in the dark of the dormitory, vaguely able to hear the breathing of her roommates on the nearby beds. She felt the heavy caress of sleep across her body, ready to pull her back into the serenity of dreamless slumber--but first she had to get her feet out of the cold. She moved them upwards, intending to tuck them beneath the blanket which had, undoubtedly, ridden up as she slept--only to have them revealed to the chill of the dormitory moments later. She tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes, but even though her feet were still cold, she could not fight away the rest that she so needed. Slowly but surely, she was drifting back off...

Ginny screeched in a mixture of mild pain and pure surprise coupled with outrage. She sat bolt upright in her bed, pulling her abused right foot toward her. "MALFOY!" she all but yelled, fury spreading throughout her entire body as she took him in, sitting innocently on the edge of her bed and watching her with a sickly sweet expression.

"Don't you know, Weasley? This is what ghosts do." He gestured matter-of-factedly to himself, the bed and her feet. "They pull your toes while you're sleeping."

Ginny would have killed him if he wasn't already dead.

By the next night, Ginny was not sure how exactly she had managed to walk up from her most recent detention--this one had been with Snape and had been earned for sleeping during his Double Potions class--all the way to her bed. She smelt rank--of sweat and the potions chemicals she had been forced to manually clean out of cauldrons--but she knew she would, under no circumstances, be able to make it through a shower. Malfoy had kept her up all of the previous night. He would let her fall into a light sleep for maybe a few minutes before--harshly, she acknowledged, grimacing at her sore feet--yanking her toes. But tonight she had something planned for him.

As she stripped out of her uniform and slipped into her pajamas, she couldn't help but smile at herself. She didn't know if magic would work on ghosts, so she had devised something much better. Malfoy would definitely stop his torture after tonight. And she would finally be able to get some sleep. She turned towards her bed, ready to jump onto it--and was startled to find Malfoy already seated at its foot, the curtains drawn back around him so that she had a clear view of his waiting position.

She blushed.

"Were you...were you watching me?"

He scoffed. "Of course not. I can spy on far more attractive girls if I don't risk having my corneas burned away by your naked body."

Ginny scowled, but was too tired to respond. She dove onto her bed, drawing the curtains around. None of her dormmates had come up yet, so the room was empty. She found it strange to be here alone with Malfoy, but even that feeling was muffled by her exhaustion. It was amazing what a toll full days of class and two-hour detentions could have on you. She lay back, covering herself with her blankets.

Malfoy immediately uncovered her toes. She closed her eyes, telling herself to have patience with the git. It would all come to an end soon enough.

"You know, if you just went out to the Quidditch pitch with me, this would all stop."

Ginny harrumphed. "Go yourself."

He was silent.

Ginny waited for all of her roommates to get to bed. During that time, she fell asleep several times and was woken, cruelly, by the hands of Draco Malfoy on her toes. But she tolerated it with little more than sullen grunts--only so that he wouldn't suspect her plan. When it seemed the night was well under way, and when she could hear the rhythmic breathing of the girls she shared her room with, Ginny prepared herself. It was hard to stay awake, even though she knew revenge was near. She adjusted her head in such a way that she had a clear view of Malfoy. He had barely changed position since she had come onto the bed. He sat, waiting with surprising patience, for her to fall asleep again.

She let a few minutes pass, allowing her eyelids to droop down just enough for it to seem like they were closed while still allowing her a view, if a blurry one, of her tormenter. This was where she took her greatest bet. She had reasoned that since he could touch her, she could touch him, as well. If this didn't work, then she would probably just have earned her toes more severe punishment. But the risk was absolutely necessary. The promise of sleep was too great to pass up.

He leaned over her toes, preparing to tug at them. She waited until his head was almost directly over her feet, trying to keep her breathing steady as his hands neared.

Three...

Two...

One...

Ginny brought her leg up with as much force as she could muster in her groggy state. To her surprise and triumph, her foot collided with a great slap against Draco Malfoy's face. With a massive groan, he thudded onto the bed, his hands cupping his face in agony. His body writhed, legs colliding with hers.

"There's more where that came from!" Ginny said, loudly, feeling as though she had accomplished a great feate. He stilled and peered at her from between his fingers, his eyes watering with pain. She almost felt sorry for him, the way he was looking at her.

But he didn't pull her toes again that night.

Author's Note: Oh Draco, Draco, Draco! I hope you've learned your lesson! Ginny is not one to be messed with, especially when she's tired and pissed. I wonder how our Slytherin will get his revenge? Will Ginny ever just go with him to that damn Quidditch pitch that caused all of this? Not much romance yet--but I don't really want to rush their feelings. Good old development is key.

This chapter was actually getting a bit too long, so I lopped off a bit of it to put in the next chapter instead. Hope you guys enjoyed it, nonetheless! The reviews are superb, by the way, and VERY VERY appreciated :-) So remember to review!