A/N: Eh. This one was okay.

Prompt #34: 8/11/17

516 words, according to Google docs.

Draco paused, listening intently. Ginny had been silent for a while now - ever since she'd entered his flat seeking 'inspiration,' or whatever she called it.

"Ginny?" he asked cautiously, looking around the living room.

"Yes?" Her voice came from his bedroom - bedroom? A bad feeling rising up in his stomach, he approached the door warily, pulling it open and stopping short at the opening.

"Ginny?" He heard a laugh.

"Hey, Draco." He noticed a glimmer of red in his closet and gaped, flabbergasted.

"What are you doing in my closet?" he demanded, making his way quickly to the wardrobe and pulling the door open farther.

"Poking around," came the completely frank response accompanied by more rustling. He blinked as a suddenly bright green appeared in the back, followed by a fuchsia. "No, too much," Ginny muttered, poking her wand at the fabric. She made a satisfied sound as the fuchsia was replaced by a lighter lavender.

Draco could only emit a strangled 'eep' as his best friend rummaged through his clothing, randomly tossing shirts and slacks over her shoulder. She glanced, amused, over her shoulder.

"Cat got your tongue?" she teased, before returning to her task. He finally regained his power of speech.

"What are you doing?" he bellowed, striding forward and grabbing her shoulders. He spun her around, grimacing at the wreckage of colored clothing strewn around the floor. Ginny looked up at him, her eyes widened innocently.

"Me?" she asked. "Well, I was just looking for…variety. Yes, variety." She nodded vigorously.

"Variety?"

"Mm hmm." She tugged out of his grasp and turned back to the pile of clothing, muttering to herself as she pulled out a shirt and turned it red with a jab of her wand. He spluttered uselessly. That was his shirt!

"Screw variety!" he exploded once his voice came back. "Those are my clothes and I won't have you messing with them." His lips formed a childish pout and he crossed his arms. Ginny didn't even spare him a glance.

"Grow up," she said, tossing the red shirt behind her. It collided with his face and he choked back a surprised gasp. Grabbing the fabric, he inspected it closely.

"Hey! That's your - your hair color!" He could almost see her grin.

"I happen to like that color, and I'm pretty sure you do too."

"I - what?"

"Like my hair. You play with it a lot, you know." He frowned. She'd noticed? He patted his pockets for his wand. He would get her back for this stunt, he would.

He couldn't find his wand.

"Bugger," he cursed. Another shirt hit him in the face. "That's it - " He dived towards her, tackling her to the ground. She landed with an 'oomph' on his pile of clothing and he landed on top of her, quickly slapping her wand out of her hand.

"Hey!"

"No one touches my clothes," he growled. "No one." It was her turn to pout.

"But I wanted variety!"

"I have enough variety already."

"Fine."

A silence fell.

"Um, Draco - would you mind getting off of me?"

"No."

"What?"

"Variety, Ginny."