Four word prompt: Is That My Shirt?

Pairing: Drinny

Rating: K

She couldn't get caught. Not now. She had to get back to her dorm as quickly as she could.

But how could she when she had once again woke up in Hagrid's chicken coop, covered in feathers and blood?

She thought about heading towards the quidditch pitch and taking a shower there. However, this was Quidditch Day. Hufflepuff vs Slytherin. And already the teams were in the locker rooms, getting themselves cleaned up.

She decided to risk it. She couldn't take being covered in blood a moment longer.

She ran as fast as her first year legs could carry her up to the pitch, thankfully without being seen. She rounded the corner and ducked inside a locker room door.

She didn't realize until she heard the familiar sloppy voice of Marcus Flint with his giant teeth which locker room she was in.

The Slytherins.

Ginny panicked. She knew she was in for it now. At least if the Hufflepuffs found her showering in their locker room, they would take pity. No telling what the Slytherin brutes might do.

Still, she couldn't take being filthy anymore, so she crawled as quickly as she could into the showers. She got behind a curtain and stood on a step, her feet not visible. She hesitated for a moment, and then turned on the shower, getting all the blood, dirt, and feathers off of her.

Unfortunately, her shirt was beyond salvageable, so she grabbed the nearest shirt she saw. It was long sleeve and black, it felt soft, warm, and expensive. The smell of fresh linen and a dash of designer cologne filled her nostrils and made her sigh. Must had been a fifth year or someone older's shirt.

She waited until she heard the voices depart before she made her move. Once she thought everyone was gone, she crept out of the shower, threw away her bloody shirt, and headed towards the door.

"Is that my shirt?" came a voice from behind, making her freeze dead in her tracks.

She turned around slowly and gasped when her eyes met the mercury eyes of a confused Draco Malfoy.

A million excuses, insults, and exit strategies ran through her brain. Damn. Of all the shirts she grabbed, it just had to belong to Malfoy.

"I said is that my shirt, Weaslette." said Draco again, using that biting insult that was exclusive to her. He was standing there in his undershirt, watching her intently.

"Who's to say it is," said Ginny, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "You Slytherins always dress in black, green, or gray. How would I know if this is your specific shirt?"

Draco was taken aback by the girl's fire. No girl besides Granger had ever stood up to him like that. Only difference was that Granger had backup. And the Weasley girl was by herself.

He looked her up and down and smirked.

"Keep it." he said.

Now it was Ginny's turn to be taken aback. "K-keep it?" she repeated, questioning.

Draco shrugged. "It was getting tight on me anyways. Keep it."

She couldn't stop herself from the blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Thanks, I guess." she whispered.

Draco looked her over once more and gave a genuine smile. For about half of a second. If Ginny blinked, she would have missed it.

"Whatever," he said, walking past her and out of the locker room.

Ginny watched as he exited the door. She thought about telling Ron and the others what has happened, but then changed her mind against it. They didn't need to know, they would only bitch and moan about ulterior motives and threaten to fight the boy. No, this was going to remain their little secret.

Besides, he had intrigued her enough to want to know more. Maybe Draco Malfoy wasn't truly as bad as he seemed.