I'm so sorry it's been so long, I haven't kept my promise about frequent updates at all and I feel really bad about that. I hope to update more often from now on, but I'll just how to see when I get time to write. However, I won't abandon the story; it's too fun to write this stuff! So don't worry…

Well, here you are; your favorite weasel and ferret once again

Chapter 3: Quidditch Matters and Filthy Affairs

Draco frowned as he subconsciously reduced his caramel pudding to mush. Earlier on that evening, when Dumbledore had announced who had been appointed the position as Head Boy, an audible groan had sounded throughout the hall; Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs alike seemed equally dissatisfied with the headmaster's choice. The fact that Granger had made it as Head Girl, however, apparently bothered no one. But that wasn't the only reason for Draco's rather foul mood.

Blaise had been glancing in the direction of the Gryffindor table from time to time throughout the entire dinner, and was no doubt checking out the weasel slut. Draco had always known Blaise was less picky than him when choosing bed partners, but he still couldn't quite comprehend the fact that his best friend was actually considering making Ginny-freakin'-Weasley, the unacclaimed Gryffindor Princess and sister of Ron-sodding- weasel, his next conquest. It wasn't a question about her looks, which were decent enough he supposed, but the fact that intimacy with anyone related to the stupidest ginger haired troll ever to cross the threshold of Hogwarts, was basically blasphemy against their pureblood lines.

Before Draco had time to dwell on the matter any longer however, he was distracted from his train of thought by Tracy Davis sliding her foot up his left shin. Tracy was a pretty girl in his year with a reasonable appetite for meaningless sex. She was tall, with curly honey blonde hair and green eyes. Green eyes which at the moment were suggesting very naughty things to happen in his dormitory after the feast. For the moment, he ignored her; he wasn't really in the mood.

Blaise had finally managed to tear his attention away from the Gryffindor table and was chatting with Theodor Nott about replacements for the Quidditch team. Draco groaned silently; another bloody thing he'd have to sort out. He began to realize that being appointed both the Head Boy position and the situation as the new Quidditch Captain would be less fun and a lot more work than he'd envisioned.

"We can't possibly keep Goyle on the team, he's so bad he doesn't even bother to consider if he's aiming a bludger at one of his own team-mates!" Theo was saying in a lowered voice, but Draco didn't pay attention. He'd feebly glanced over towards the Gryffindors himself, and noticed the Weasley girl surrounded by The Ginger Oaf, miss Mudblood, Longbottom, Potty-face and a couple of girls he assumed to be in her own year. Potter was seated right next to her and was eying her most appreciatively; Draco had no doubt about what The Chosen One had in mind. But to his surprise, the female weasel ignored the attention he was giving her completely. She even scooted the tiniest bit away when Potty leaned over towards her to say something. Interesting. Maybe she had been telling the truth on the train after all.

For some reason the thought of her turning down the Chosen One pleased him. Possibly because Draco rather enjoyed anything related to Potter's misfortune.

Ginny awoke the next morning by the sound of content chatter, scattered giggles and a very annoying ray of morning sun hitting her straight in the face. There was a general bustle about the room; all the 6th year Gryffindor girls were getting ready for their first day back to school, and Ginny was, as per usual, the one who'd overslept. She hastily crawled out of the warm comfortable softness of her four poster bed.

"Late again, are we, Gin?" Sophie asked with a chuckle, as she sat down on her own bed, looking ridiculously put together. "I thought you were going to change your ways this year. What was it that you said last night? That you'd be up before everyone today, freshly showered after your morning flight and ready for breakfast before any of us had even managed to roll ourselves out of bed?"

"Oh, shut it, will you?" Ginny grumbled. One thing was certain; she'd have no time to get a shower now. Sophie just smiled, but Serena sent her an indulgent look across the room. God, Ginny couldn't stand Serena, and she suspected the feeling was mutual. Not that she cared. Not one bit in fact. She'd just have to steer clear of the wretched girl and everything would be just fine. Serena had always disliked Ginny, she really couldn't remember if there was a legit reason for her distaste, but Serena had been a nasty bitch since the day they were both sorted into Gryffindor. How Serena had managed to end up in Gryffindor in the first place was another mystery unsolved. Of course, as an 11 year old, Ginny's self-esteem had been spectacularly low which had made her an easy target with no counter fire to muster up. The first two years at Hogwarts had given Serena a big advantage in their "relationship". However strong-minded or confident Ginny had become; she'd always be a weak little girl in Serena's eyes.

Serena flipped her long platinum blonde hair over her shoulder and left the dormitory.

"Good riddance," Ginny muttered and staggered into the bathroom. All the other girls were long gone by the time she had thrown on her uniform and gathered her books.

On the way down to breakfast, Ginny encountered Nearly Headless Nick, Peeves (she barely dodged the dungbomb as it soared towards her head), a group of skittish first year Hufflepuffs who seemed to have lost their way, and Luna Lovegood. They entered the Great Hall together and found it quite full. It seemed everyone was keen on a fresh start and a nice long breakfast before heading off to their first day after the holidays. Luna parted for the Ravenclaws with a smile and a wave and Ginny headed towards Harry, Hermione and Ron, seated in the middle of the Gryffindor table. She dumped down beside Hermione and grabbed for some toast and jam (they were all out of eggs though she noticed Ron had stacked a generous pile on his plate).

"Good morning," Hermione greeted cheerfully, looking up from her edition of the Daily Prophet. Harry also glanced over with an appreciative smile. What was with everyone being in such a good mood?!

"'morning," She replied glumly through a mouthful of toast.

"Oh, come on Ginny, cheer up!" Hermione nudged her.

"What for?"

"Your sixth year Ginny! Isn't it exciting? What subjects are you taking again?" She sounded genuinely interested.

"What's so bloody exciting about it?"

"'eave it 'ermione, 'e's always in a crabby mood in 'e 'ornin," Ron shot in through chunks of scrambled egg and crisp bacon, "'u should 'ave 'een 'er yesterday-" Hermione was conveying him with what looked like repulsed scepticism, and Ginny couldn't blame her; Ron's eating habits were more than remotely revolting.

"Shut it, Ron!" She snapped. "No one asked for your opinion,"

"Jeez," He'd managed to swallow the eggs by now, "why are you throwing a hissy fit all of a sudden?"

"I'm sorry," She muttered, rubbing her tired eyes. "I didn't sleep very well, that's all," Ron shrugged, "Care to pass the coffee, Harry?"

Ginny's mood improved considerably during the day, and when the final class of the day wrapped up (Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid), she happily joined up with Neville on her way to dinner. On their way they happened upon Draco Malfoy and his gang of scoundrels, but he only sneered superiorly at her as she scowled menacingly in his direction.

Friday rolled around before Ginny was positively certain her hair was completely back to normal and she celebrated the joyous occasion by wearing it down. The first week had been rather uneventful, except of course, the occasional snide comment from a certain icy-blonde Slytherin. She couldn't help but notice that he did seem to be targeting her more than he usually would. Maybe she should have considered the consequences before getting into that pissing contest on the train. But then again, would she ever let him get away with being a rude jerk? Definitely not.

Ginny was making her way towards the Quidditch pitch. The tryouts for the Gryffindor team were scheduled to begin in an hour and she wanted to get a head start. Harry had taken her aside after breakfast and explained to her that she wouldn't need to try out at all; he would just put her on the team straight away. Ginny had retorted, maybe a tad bit irritably, that she didn't need him babying her, that she was a perfectly capable Quidditch player, and that she of course would try out like the rest of the Gryffindors. She hated that he still treated her like a little girl, even though he certainly didn't look at her like she was anymore. She shook her head before entering the locker rooms; clearing her head and trying to get rid of the frustration. It would do her no good on the pitch, that's for sure.

She was alone in the locker rooms, but still hurried into her Quidditch gear. The pitch was empty and she didn't get any company until Harry joined her half an hour later. He looked rather irate himself as he dragged the chest containing the various balls to the centre of the pitch. Ginny sighed and dived out of the sky towards him.

"Harry," She began when she'd dismounted. She wanted to clear the air between them before any unfair decisions based on her bitchy behaviour was made. He grunted, but didn't look up. She couldn't help rolling her eyes, and was kind of glad he wasn't looking. Boys could be such tossers sometimes.

"About this morning-" she continued, but he interrupted her.

"Yes?" He snapped rudely.

"Oh, come on Harry, at least hear me out," She begged, and after a deep breath he finally met her gaze. She was a bit surprised to discover that he looked slightly hurt. "I'm very flattered that you obviously think I'm good enough to be on the team without putting it to the test, but I just can't stand that you'd give me any special treatment- No! I'm not finished," Harry had opened his mouth and the cross look on his face indicated that he wanted to argue her appeal, "I want to be on the team because I earned my place there, and not for any other reason," She looked straight at him, but she couldn't help recalling Malfoy's crude words about her on the train, "I just want it to be fair, yeah? I don't think there should be any personal reasons or interests involved. And I realize that you were just being nice, and I'm sorry I was such a bitch about it," She finished. Harry held her gaze for a moment, his expression hard. Then he gave a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"I'm sorry too, Gin. I just- I don't know, I just wanted to do something nice for you, and I know you're the best chaser in all of Gryffindor, hell, probably in the entire school," He gestured awkwardly towards her. She smiled.

"Nah, you don't know that," She replied lightly, "Maybe we'll come across three fantastic second graders who're just the most phenomenal chasers you've ever seen? What would you do then?" Harry flashed her a genuine grin.

"Indeed, what would I do?" They both broke out into easy laughter.

"Want to give me a hand with the equipment here Weasley?" He asked and gestured towards the stack of brooms lying by the goal hoops and the chests containing the beater bats and protection gear.

"Sure Captain," She grinned and they set to work.

*
Two hours later the new team were gathered in the centre of the pitch. Ginny had made it with excellence; Ron had barely made it, as always letting his nerves get the better of him. Demelza Robins and Dean Thomas had made it as the other chasers, and Peakes and Cootie was back as Beaters.

The rest of the contenders were sulkily making their way up towards the castle and the stalls were also emptying. A fair bunch of Gryffindors had gathered to watch the tryouts. Now, only Hermione and Neville were left, making their way down the rows towards them. Just as everyone was moving along to the changing rooms, Ginny caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye and halted, focusing her gaze on the figure who'd just risen from the very back of the stands. Blaise Zabini caught her eye and winked. She quickly looked away, a fresh scowl on her face. Would he stop doing that?! And what was he doing down here anyway? Was he spying on the team, or following her? What a ridicules idea! She glances back up again, but he'd left.

Everything was falling into place again; Quidditch practice had begun, the team was preparing for the upcoming match against Ravenclaw; Ginny was getting used to her more advanced N.E.W.T. classes; September drifted into October with a gush of chilled weather; the first Hogsmeade weekend had even been announced; and Draco Malfoy seemed to have lost his newfound interest in her suffering. However, the education at Hogwarts was never complete without a few bumps in the road.

"Bloody git!"

"Don't do anything stupid, Ginny!" Hermione pleaded as Ginny hurriedly climbed out of the portrait hole, nudging a couple of third graders out of the way in the process.

"Yeah? Watch me!" She called over her shoulder before storming down the hallway.

Ginny was fuming as a result of the DADA class of the afternoon. Snape hadn't only managed to ignore the fact that she'd successfully achieved the hex of today's assignment before anyone else, but he'd also given her a bad grade on her essay on "Dragons in war", which was totally unfair since she knew that everything she'd written was accurate. In addition, he'd taken 15 points from Gryffindor when all she'd done was laugh (as quietly as she could, one might add) at Peter Dinkle when his hex backfired. When Ginny had argued that laughing was hardly something to be punished so severely for, Snape had smirked and countered that if her laugh wasn't so loud and offensive, then maybe he wouldn't have needed to take any points. In turn, all the Slytherins had laughed at her, which of course, he'd done absolutely nothing about.

The entire ordeal had been so degrading, that Ginny had decided to take matters into her own hands and get some well deserved revenge on the Professor. She kept a secret stash of various Wizard Wheezes artefacts in the passage behind the mirror in the abandoned storage room on the fourth floor, most of which was provided by Fred and George, in the hopes that chaos would still wreck the halls of Hogwarts from time to time. They had recently reinvented a new and more powerful dungbomb that could, in extreme cases, lead to loss of consciousness for those unfortunate enough to breathe in its horrible odour, and Ginny was planning on making Snape her test subject nr. 1.

It was 8:45 in the evening, not so late she'd get in trouble for being out of bed, but late enough for the hallways to be reasonably empty. Ginny was making her way towards the DADA classroom, where she was planning on charming the dungbombs so that the first one to enter the classroom the next morning would get at load of shit shot in their face. Literally. With any luck, that would be Snape. She was so caught up in the blissful thoughts of what his facial expression would look like when presented with her little surprise, that she didn't notice the boy observing her determined marsh as she strode past his hiding place.

"What, exactly, are you doing?"

"Fuck!" Ginny jerked around as his smooth voice tore through the silence of the otherwise deserted hallway.

"Now, now Weasley; language," Malfoy tsk-ed mockingly.

"Whatever," She muttered, catching her breath, before continuing with an accusatory hiss; "you're the one startling me!"

"You didn't answer my question weasel, and if you don't want to spend the rest of the week in detention, I suggest you do." He was speaking in that special voice he reserved only for his duties as Head Boy. It was still a source of astonishment to Ginny, how Dumbledore could ever justify his decision to give Draco Malfoy the shiny badge she had once watched Percy proudly carry around the halls of the castle.

"What question?"

"What. Are. You. Doing?" He repeated slowly, like she was mentally damaged, and jumped down from the alcove where he'd been lounging.

"I'm not doing anything," She replied, a bit too hurriedly. She mentally kicked her own butt.

"Hardly," He looked bored as he sauntered towards her. "You're hiding something behind your back Weasley. Now give it here,"

"Am not!" She cried in desperation, painfully aware that the battle was already lost.

"Really? Do you actually think I'm that daft?"

"Actually, I do," He smirked at her reply.

"15 points from Gryffindor for being rude towards the higher authority,"

"Higher Authority?!" She choked out incredulously. He just smirked. "You're hardly the minister of magic, Malfoy. It's no fun molesting you when all you do in return is bossing me around like this!" She exclaimed, tossing her arms in the air and in her moment of apprehension, lost the grip on the box in her hand. "Shit," she scrambled forward, grabbing after it, but Malfoy was much quicker. His seeker reflexes seemed to be in perfect condition and his arm shot out, catching the flying object in midair before she even had time to blink. Ginny watched in horror as he studied the object in his hands and raised an eyebrow as he realized what it was.

"Well, well, well," He drawled, sounding disturbingly much like Snape, Ginny noticed. "This," He glanced at her with a look of malicious satisfaction, "will certainly secure you detention for at least a week," he weighted the box in his hands, and she knew perfectly well he was taunting her, enjoying her misfortune. "I suppose Filch would be very interested to get a look at this," He thought loudly. First Snape and now Malfoy, Ginny thought bitterly, I must have the worst luck in the school.

"Do you get off on being an arse?" She spat.

"10 points from Gryffindor,"

"Thought so,"

"I'm wondering how to go about this little predicament, weasel," He smirked at her after a moment, and began, slowly, to edge closer to where she was standing. "I could, as I previously considered, hand it over to Filch, and he would surely provide you with a most deserved set of punishments," He grinned gleefully as he continued his approach, "But as I am such a merciful and gracious Head Boy," Ginny scoffed and rolled her eyes, "I'm willing to let it fall upon Professor Snape to sort out this unfortunate event." He stopped, leaving only a small space of about a foot dividing them, and looked down at her. Ginny narrowed her eyes. She took a careful step backwards and felt the rough surface of the stone wall brush against her shoulder blades. She felt very small with him hovering over her like this and it wasn't a feeling she especially enjoyed. The difference in height seemed somehow pronounced.

"And you think Snape is going to be merciful?" She felt exhausted only by the thought of how long the DADA professor would make her stay up, probably scrubbing the floors of the classroom or filing horribly tedious documents from the archives.

"Would you rather I go to Filch, then?" He suggested, raising an eyebrow in question. Ginny considered her options and came to the conclusion that she actually did prefer not to spend time with the caretaker. However, it was a poor consolation to have this time spent with Snape instead. She let out a heavy sigh of defeat.

"Alright," She replied impatiently, "Take the dammed box to Snape then, and tell him I hope he enjoys it. It would probably improve the smell in his office anyway," Malfoy seemed amused. She was about to make him tell Snape that the dungbombs had been intended for him anyway, but in a moment of uncharacteristic reasonability she thought better of it. "May I please be excused now, almighty guarder of the safety of the halls of Hogwarts castle?" She asked sarcastically. He was still blocking her way with his tall frame. She was very aware of how close his body was to hers, and without really knowing why; it made her feel very uncomfortable.

"Go ahead," He smirked, but didn't move. His gaze was unnervingly intense upon her.

"You're such a prat," she shoved his chest forcefully and slipped out through the narrow space between his body and the wall.

"Good luck with the detention," He called after her when she hurriedly disappeared around the corner.

The next morning at breakfast, Ginny was interrupted in her meal by a terrified second grader. He didn't look up when he tentatively patted her on the shoulder, and actually speaking to her seemed to take all the courage he could muster up.

"I've got a note for you," He finally mumbled, "From professor Sn-" He took a deep breath, "Snape,"

Ginny sighed as she took the note. She'd been expecting it, but had still cradled a small hope that the greasy git somehow wouldn't have heard about last night's events. She glanced at the boy and managed a smile,

"Thanks'," She said kindly, "I don't believe I know your name?"

The boy flushed brightly red at her question, and mumbled; "Max," Before hurrying off. Ginny turned in bewilderment to her friends, who had been watching the scene transpire before them.

"Was it something I said?" She asked, slightly baffled, but when they all giggled, she grew frustrated and cried, "What?!"

"Well," Sophie began, still looking amused, "Can't you see that the poor boy is besotted with you?"

"What?!"

"Honestly Gin, he was blushing and stuttering all over the place, and the way he looked at you," Ingrid replied with a pointed look of her own.

"But come on, he's just a kid!" Ginny exclaimed, looking over at Max as he sat down with his friends at the other end of the table.

"That doesn't mean he can't fancy you," Sophie retorted, matter of factly, "You are rather attractive, you know, and rather, what shall I say, sought after by the opposite sex in general," She stated while buttering her toast. Ginny nearly choked on her coffee.

"Well, it's true!"Ingrid chimed in, "You're the one getting all the attention around here," She said almost sulkily.

"I will not acknowledge the subject of this conversation," Ginny scoffed.

"Of course you won't," Sophie smiled up at her, "Because despite the fact that you're bright and observant, you're also oblivious to all the, um, romantic attention you attract,"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ginny snapped accusingly, feeling the familiar tingle in her cheeks as she blushed.

"Oh, get over yourself Gin," Ingrid rolled her eyes, "You're pretty, smart, witty, confident and the star chaser at the Quidditch team," She shot her an envious look; "The better part of the male population at this school would like to shag you, okay?"

It didn't turn out to be an especially good day. Ginny spent most of the day being embarrassed about the conversation over breakfast, and that evening she had the detention with Snape. When they finally finished sorting through archives, Ginny thought to herself that she had been let off rather easy, and shuddered to think about what nasty punishment he would have come up with if he'd known the dungbombs were intended for him. She was making her way towards the common room, deep in thought when she turned a corner and a smooth voice spoke to her.

"Hello there gorgeous," Ginny started slightly as she noticed the tall, dark haired boy, hidden by the looming shadows of the dark corridor.

"Um," She furrowed her brows as she realized who it was, "Hello to you too, Slytherin person I've never really spoken with," She said and continued on walking. I truth, she did know his name of course, who didn't? But Ginny wasn't about to let him know that. Blaise Zabini was one of the handsomest boys to walk the grounds of Hogwarts, but Ginny was especially skeptical when it came to Slytherins and he gave the impression of being a bit too fond of himself for her liking at any rate.

"Hey, not so fast!" He called out and sped after her, catching up with her fast pace in a few long strides. She sighed and halted.

"What do you want, then?" She asked apprehensively.

"Can't a handsome bloke like me have an innocent reason for wanting to talk to a pretty girl like yourself?" Blaise Zabinis smile was lopsided and his eyes strangely sparkling. As Ginny seized him up with a dubious look on her face, she had no trouble picturing why so many girls pined for this boy.

"No," She answered bluntly, "You're a Slytherin, and if you're to believe common knowledge, Draco Malfoy's best friend. You might have noticed that the two of us doesn't really see eye to eye. And besides, I'm a Gryffindor and a Weasley, remember, the sort you Slytherins loathe almost as much as a full-blooded muggle?"

His grin widened, "Well, you're a feisty one, aren't you?" He asked, looking amused.

"And why shouldn't I be, when guys like you and ferret-boy keep bothering me no matter what I do?"

"I'm so sorry if I've caused you any displeasure,"

"No, you're not," She scoffed and once again continued walking.

"What's wrong with meself and my boy Draco anyway?" Blaise went on, sounding oddly curious.

"Well, despite the fact that you're both arrogant, self-centered pricks who've had everything in life handed to you on a silver platter since you shot out your poor mothers' wombs and continue to believe that everyone is going to act that way towards you however badly you treat them, then; nothing, really," She shot him a sidewise glare, but he still looked amused, "Well, and of course your deluded sense of reality and that you're a couple of stupid gits,"

"Is that so?" He chuckled.

"Yes, now, will you please leave me alone?" She was getting more annoyed by this boy by the minute.

"No," He said, crossing into her path and blocking her way in the narrow corridor they had entered. "Not before you agree to go with me to Hogsmeade."

"I won't do that," Ginny blurted out in astonishment. Why on earth he would want to take her to the neighborhood village was beyond her comprehension.

"Why not?" He sounded sincerely disappointed.

"Besides the list of non-flattering points I listed up about you just now; I don't do guys like you."

"You mean devilishly handsome, charming blokes with shameless reputations," His self-assured grin was back at display.

"Yes," She replied drily, "that's the exact specimen I was talking about. Now, if you'll excuse me," She pushed past him and disappeared down the dark hallway and before he had time to gather his wits and follow her steps, she'd slipped into a secret passage behind a tapestry featuring the famous wizard Hengist of Woodcroft as he defeated a particularly frightening, carnivorous thorn bush.

And that's it for now I'm afraid. Plz comment, makes me v happy! Until next time ;)