"Who do you think you are?
Runnin' round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts…
And tearing love apart"
-Jar of Hearts, by Christina Perri
Chapter 25: Making All the Wrong Moves
Past disclaimers apply.
Monday evening, after a rather long day's worth of classes, Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Blaise, Pansy, and Draco all found themselves standing within the potion's classroom for the second time that day as they were now meant to be serving out their detentions.
"Now," Snape began after the door had shut behind the group of fifth/sixth years. "You will all be split into pairs of two," he went on, eying each of his students carefully, "the punishments shall be different, yet equal, so I expect no complaints," the professor then paused for a response.
"Yes, sir," the group agreed, some less enthusiastically than others.
"The pairs are to be as follows," Severus proceeded after approving of their answers, "Potter and Miss Lovegood," he instructed the duo to a table in the center of the room, "you shall each be scrubbing cauldrons."
Harry sighed whilst Luna remained impassive and walked over to the grimy pot-like containers.
"Longbottom and Mr. Zabini," he directed the boys towards several chisels upon his desk, "the two of you are to scrape underneath each of the desks."
Blaise scrunched up his face in disgust as Neville silently walked over and grabbed the instruments, too frightened of the professor to complain.
"Miss Granger and Miss Parkinson," he continued dishing out their punishments, "I expect my stores re-stocked in alphabetical order by the time these two hours reach their end."
Hermione looked over at the other girl. They each quietly agreed to make their way into the large cupboard at that moment, feeling relieved by what they were sent to do. Out of all the orders so far, the female prefects definitely got let off easy.
"Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy," he finished up with his godson and the Weasley girl, "There are two mortars and pestles in the back of this room, along with several different types of blades," Snape pointed out before proceeding, "The ingredients beside these instruments are to be correctly cut and bottled away before this detention concludes. Am I clear?" Yes, the man trusted his godson completely with his precious ingredients. It was the red-head he was less certain of.
"Yes, professor," Ginny replied simply. She then made her way over to the station, hating whom she had been set up with.
After that, Draco warily followed, leaving Severus to return back to his desk in order to grade past assignments.
…
"This isn't so bad," Luna told her partner as she slipped on one of the pairs of yellow gloves that had been set out before each of them.
"We haven't started yet, Luna," Harry pointed out.
"Oh, I know," the petite teen informed him with her soft voice, "but if you think negatively, the flitter-wigs will come for you."
Harry nearly dropped the glove he'd been in the process of putting on. "The what?" he asked.
"Flitter-wigs," Luna looked to the boy beside her with her pale blue eyes, "the can sense negativity," she said as if that explained everything.
"What do they look like?" he inquired curiously.
The blonde grabbed hold of a scrubbing brush and poured some cleanser into one of the many cauldrons. "They are quite small," she began, "so small that you wouldn't be able to see them without special binoculars."
'Of course,' Harry thought amusedly.
"According to daddy," Luna continued, oblivious to what her friend was thinking, "flitter-wigs are bronze-colored with five legs, two arms, and only one eye to see with. This is probably because they use their sense of smell more than their sense for sight," she elaborated whilst polishing the dish held between her fair-skinned hands.
"What do they do?" he wondered aloud, joining her by beginning to clean as well.
"Eat hair," she bluntly stated. "This is why many older witches and wizards go bald," Luna said truthfully (or so she thought). "Most adults aren't as optimistic as they used to be."
Harry, never quite being one for optimism, prayed that these creatures weren't real.
…
"Ugh, what in Merlin's name is that?" Blaise asked the prefect opposite him as they peered beneath one of the desks.
"I'm not sure," Neville responded honestly, "Maybe it's some sort of mold," he offered.
"I've never heard of white mold before, Longbottom," Zabini pointed out.
"You don't think it's…" the brunette couldn't finish his own sentence out of sheer embarrassment.
"Well, there is no way I am going anywhere near that," Blaise made up his mind.
Neville sighed in defeat, knowing he would be the one to clean that gob of bodily fluid off. Never in his life had he wished so much for the power to turn invisible.
…
"Could we have been more fortunate?" Pansy rhetorically asked the bushy-haired brunette at her side. "All of the others have repulsive punishments to serve out," she said before adding a sympathetic, "Poor Blaise…"
Hermione, who was slightly taken aback by Parkinson's decision to open up with her, gathered her thoughts and smoothly responded, "I know. This is much better than having to scrape the bottom of desks."
Pansy nodded her head in agreement before looking thoughtfully over at Granger. "I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave me the other day," she let the other girl know quite seriously. "It worked," the shorter teen's full-sized lips gave off half a smile.
"I'm glad," Hermione replied sincerely, having known all too well what it felt like to be isolated from those she cared about. "But there's no need to thank me," she put in, arranging a jar of dung beetles so that they came before the one filled with earwigs.
"Why not?" Parkinson asked, having found it only right to do so.
Granger sighed and turned to face Pansy. "Because, that's what friends do, isn't it? Give advice to each other," she elaborated when the Slytherin shot her a look of misunderstanding.
It took Pansy a moment to process the words Hermione had said before hesitantly accepting them. 'Sure, why not?' the girl thought. 'Granger is as good a friend as Millicent,' she figured. It was true, after all, at this point. Hermione had been just as useful and better at confiding in versus Bulstrode. Still, if anybody had come to her last year saying that she and this Gryffindor would become mates soon, Parkinson would've slapped them straight.
Slightly comforted by the fact that Pansy had agreed when she'd said they were friends, Hermione got back to work, occasionally talking with the other girl about various matters.
…
"This is impossible!" Ginny shouted as loudly as a whisper would allow for her to. For the past twenty minutes she'd been trying to slice some valerian roots, but soon found it extremely difficult as the stupid things proved tough to cut through.
"That's because you're using the wrong knife," Draco corrected her and held out the smaller piece of pointed silver she was supposed to be using.
The red-head snatched it from the blonde without so much as a thank you and got back to the task at hand. She really wasn't up for having to deal with Malfoy right now. Earlier that day, Michael Corner had asked her out in the midst of their lunch break, allowing nearly all of her year-mates to overhear. So, then, when she'd rejected his offer, each and every one of them deemed her cruel and heartless. Seriously, it wasn't her fault that Michael was an obsessive pervert.
Lost in her own world, seconds later it was a warm hand upon her own that snapped Ginny away from her upsetting flashback.
"Are you trying to chop your finger off?" Malfoy questioned her harshly, having pulled her hand away from the piece of root she'd been about to slice.
Looking down, however, Ginny realized that it wasn't a piece of the valerian at all, but rather her forefinger instead. She paled at what had very nearly taken place.
"Try to be more careful, won't you?" the older teen scolded her, having just been nearly scared to death by what would've happened had he not noticed.
Ginny was about to nod her head affirmatively when she suddenly remembered just whom was speaking to her. While the fifth year didn't know Malfoy that well personally, the things her brother had to say about him were far from pleasant. In fact, just knowing that the Slytherin had caused Ron problems was enough to make the girl hate him without any formal introductions being needed.
"Shove off, Malfoy," Ginny ground out rudely, regardless of the fact that he'd previously saved her finger from a terrible fate.
Draco released the pestle in his hand and looked at the ginger in sheer annoyance. "What's your problem?" he asked her, honestly wanting to know. He had yet to do a single solitary thing so to purposefully upset this Weasley and she still felt the need to be hostile towards him.
"You," she spat with much venom, wanting nothing more than for Malfoy to shut up and leave her alone. "All year you've done nothing but stare at me and then when I finally confront you about it you deny your actions," she ranted angrily.
"So that's why you're acting this way?" Draco asked disbelievingly, "Because you think I've been looking at you?"
"No," Ginny snapped and turned to face him, "I don't 'think' you've been watching me, I know it for a fact," she started, about to lose her temper completely. "And what gives you the right to do that?" she demanded. "You've been nothing short of a prat towards my brother and his friends," the youngest Weasley couldn't stop herself, "I'm not going to try and understand your new relationship with Harry and Hermione," she crudely admitted, "But what's with your sudden interest in me?"
Malfoy remained silent at that, knowing that there would be no right answer.
"Oh, so now you've got nothing to say?" the Gryffindor shook her head, thoroughly frustrated. "Fine," she huffed, "mind at least telling me why you sent Parkinson after Hermione that night?" Ginny still wanted to know.
"I didn't ask Pansy to do that," Draco spoke the truth. He then got back to chopping up pieces of wiggenbush bark so as to avoid her piercing gaze.
"Somehow I just don't believe you," she told him, bottling a bit of the now-successfully sliced valerian root.
"Not that I'd expected you to," the blonde muttered, slightly aggravated.
Ginny scoffed, "Then why would Parkinson want to know who I am or am not dating?" she pried, "I've only ever seen her associate herself with you and Zabini, and I'm pretty sure he couldn't care less about that."
"So, you're under the impression that I do?" Malfoy countered.
"Well, why on earth would either of them seriously want to know?"
"Have you tried asking Pansy?"
"Why ask her when you're standing right here?"
"Because I'm not the one who spoke to Granger," Draco bickered back. He and Ginny were each cutting up their designated ingredients with much force, both appearing to be entirely at their wits end.
"Yet you've still avoided all of my questions."
"No, actually, I haven't."
"Then explain why you've been stalking me ever since the welcoming feast," the red-head demanded.
"That's an accusation, hardly a question," Malfoy pointed out, not wanting to own up to anything.
Ginny looked up from the knife in her hand, fuming, "Would you just-OUCH!" she suddenly shrieked. The shrill sound brought everyone's attention to her, including Draco's. When the pureblood shifted his eyes down towards what his partner was staring at, he felt suddenly faint and immediately wished that he hadn't looked at all.
The youngest Weasley slowly held up her shaking hand in shock. While her thumb hadn't been severed completely, the limb obviously came pretty close as she was able to see part of the bone.
"Ginny!" Hermione rushed out of the storage room and ran over to her friend. Once she finally made her way over, the Professor (who had gotten there first) could be found muttering spells to slow the rapid blood loss.
"Oh, god," Neville breathed out, nearly toppling over as he caught sight of the girl's injury. Luckily, Luna had come over to take his arm, preventing the brunette from losing complete consciousness. She knew how the prefect felt about these sorts of things and instantly sought out to help him keep calm.
"Take Miss Weasley to the hospital wing," Snape instructed his godson after he'd done everything he could.
Draco nodded solemnly and carefully lead Ginny (who was too shocked to care that Malfoy had placed an arm around her shoulders) out of the classroom.
"She'll be fine," Hermione promised Harry as the opposite teen had stiffened upon watching the duo leave together.
"That was so gross," Pansy turned to Blaise for comfort, not liking the image that had been embedded into her brain. And while Zabini didn't say anything, he did take his girlfriend's hand in an attempt to reassure her.
…
"Everything is going to be okay," the blonde said more so to himself than to the girl in pain, "we're almost there," he informed her, finally nearing Madame Pomfrey.
"What happened?" Poppy asked the approaching students, ushering them inside.
"She cut her hand in detention," Malfoy frantically explained, "We were preparing potions ingredients and…" he directed the elderly woman's attention to Ginny's left hand. There, a limp thumb could be found barely hanging on.
"Can you fix it?" the fifth year had asked weakly, trying not to think about her predicament. She was already so nauseous from the pain. Looking at the limb another time would surely cause Ginny to lose her supper.
"Yes, Miss Weasley, I will be able to repair your thumb," the healer sighed. "Mr. Malfoy if you would please take her over to one of the beds I shall be there momentarily," Pomfrey added before walking away, getting back to the young Hufflepuff she'd been tending to before their arrival.
"Are you alright?" the Slytherin had asked after Poppy's newest patient sat down.
Ginny, being in too much discomfort for fighting, merely rolled her eyes and didn't bother with telling him what a stupid question that had been.
Malfoy rubbed his face tiredly, "I did tell you to try and be more careful," he reprimanded her.
"Oh, shut it," Ginny said though clenched teeth. She'd never been hurt so badly. The throbbing, stinging, burning pain was all she could think about.
"I'd apologize, but this is still your fault," Draco tried getting her mind off of it. Perhaps angering the Weasley would serve as a good distraction. This tactic had certainly proven successful earlier when she should've been watching the blade before her.
"Maybe if you hadn't been such a git earlier and would have just answered my question-"
"I already told you," Malfoy interrupted her, "that wasn't a-"
"I swear, if you tell me that one more time I'll hex you as soon as Pomfrey fixes my hand," Ginny warned, looking at the boy seated beside her on the hospital bed.
"Well isn't someone being sensitive," he didn't back down.
"You don't know when to quit, do you?" the girl ground out.
"I'm not scared of you, Weasley," Malfoy secretly lied.
"You won't be saying that tomorrow," she managed a smirk in spite of her pain.
"Is that a threat?" Draco inquired.
"No," Ginny corrected, "it's a promise."
"Alright dear, let me see it," Madame Pomfrey finally finished with the second year and made her way back over to the Gryffindor before the blonde could say anything more.
Poppy soon after muttered several incantations before handing Ginny a serving of skele-grow for the bit of bone she'd managed to break into.
"It won't be necessary for you to remain here overnight, Miss Weasley," the healer informed the fifteen year old. "But do try and be more cautious when working with sharp utensils," she advised, "I'd like to see less of Potter and his friends this year if you don't mind."
Malfoy had snickered at that causing Ginny to shoot him yet another glare that night. Then, ignoring the display, Poppy retreated back to work, leaving the two free to go.
"You know," the red-head began as she and Draco exited the hospital wing, "now that my hand's been healed, I could just curse you right here." Ginny stopped midway down the hall they'd been walking down and looked at the Slytherin quite seriously.
"And why would you do that?" Malfoy stayed behind as well.
"Why not?" she challenged.
"Well, being that I haven't done anything-"
"Haven't done anything?" Ginny repeated venomously, "Not only did you feel the need to torture my brother every year in the past," she began ranting tersely, "it seems like now that he's dead you've decided to go after me in his place."
Draco felt the need to rectify her words before allowing the youngest Weasley to continue, "I have my reasons for what I did back then," he enlightened her, "and I've honestly done nothing against you this term, let alone any of the ones before it."
"I know all about your 'reasons', Malfoy," she admitted as Hermione had told her a while ago. "They don't change anything," Ginny crossed her arms.
"Why are you being so stubborn?" he asked, beginning to lose all patience with her. Draco didn't even bother to ask how she had known about that, figuring Potter told Granger who clearly passed the information on.
"I'm not nearly as forgiving as Hermione," she harshly let him know. "She may be able to let go of the past, but that is something I don't intend to do," Ginny made up her mind. Originally, she'd considered this option on behalf of the prefect, but now any inner debate was over with. It had been settled. Never would she forgive the Slytherin who'd accompanied her to the infirmary. "Now why don't you just leave me alone before I decide not to go back on my promise," Ginny suggested, referring to the hex she'd earlier vowed to shoot his way.
"No," Draco foolishly didn't take the offer. This caused the Weasley girl to pull out her wand without hesitation. "Do you still want to know why I've been looking at you this year?" figuring it was now or never, he finally decided to come out with the truth. After today, the blonde knew there would be no way in hell she'd so much as allow him to be anywhere near her.
Caught off guard, Ginny slightly lowered the wand she had raised. "I'm listening," she replied coolly, wanting to get this over with.
Malfoy looked apprehensive and for a moment thought about simply walking away, but clearly chose against it as he spoke up again, "For two years now, I've liked you," he stated bluntly, instantly feeling ignorant for his choice of words. Never were you supposed to come out and say that to a girl. It made you look stupid.
Ginny, however, did not appear as surprised as he'd imagined she would be. "Is this some sort of sick joke?" she rudely asked. With Hermione's help, the red-head had easily put two and two together and managed to guess something along these lines. In short, she knew that the Slytherin either truly liked her or was planning to pull one on her. Obviously, she'd assumed the latter.
Draco had been expecting that. "No," he answered truthfully. "This isn't something I would lie about."
"And why should I believe you?" Ginny refused to accept his words.
Not knowing what else to say at this point, Malfoy acted on the only thing he was able to think of that could possibly change her mind.
He kissed her.
A/N: Hey guys!
Thanks to TsukiyoTenshi & ShortieJ for reviewing :)
Hopefully I'll get to update again next weekend. I just need to know if that's something you all would like for me to do.
So, give me your thoughts, okay?
Until then…