Summary: Ginny enters her 5th year at Hogwarts as the Wizarding world is in the throws of the Second War. She has to deal with Harry's grief over Sirius, Malfoy's relentless teasing, and an older brother's insistance that his baby sister is still a child. On top of everything, it's Ginny's OWL year and she failing potions! Can things get any worse for poor Ginny?
Categories: Draco/Ginny Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 3
Completed: No
Word count: 2413
Read: 6487
Published: 02/22/05
Updated: 03/20/05
1. Quidditch by DangerousDai
2. Potions and Premonitions by DangerousDai
3. Talking to Malfoy by DangerousDai
Quidditch by DangerousDai
Disclaimer: You think I came up with the Potterverse? I wish! No, all that belongs to my dear friend, Jo Rowling.
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The rain threatened, the clouds eclipsing the sun. The ground was hard, the air dry for the moment. Little wind. Oliver Wood would have died for conditions like these.
“For Gryffindor we have Captain Bell, Sloper, Kirke, Creevey, Thomas, Weasley and Weasley!” A roar went up from the scarlet clad end of the pitch. Ginny Weasley followed her brother, Ron, out onto the field as Seamus Finnegan shouted their names through the magical mega phone.
Ginny tried taking deep, calming breaths as the Gryffindor Quidditch team met Madam Hooch halfway down the field. Harry should be here, not her. No Seeker had ever beaten Draco Malfoy at a game of Quidditch, save for Harry Potter. Harry had declined the position, much to everyone’s dismay. His lifetime ban had been lifted, but he refused all the same. He had even tried to give Ginny his Firebolt.
“Absolutely not,” she had told Harry, her Weasley allergy to charity kicking in. He insisted that she at least borrow it for the season.
“No sense in a having a Firebolt lay around doing nothing.”
Ginny agreed to that, and now she gripped Harry’s Firebolt in her sweating palm as Katie Bell and Malfoy shook hands. Ginny didn’t understand it; she had never been this nervous before a match. On the hand, she had never played Malfoy. And he played dirty, everyone knew.
The two teams rose into the air, tensely waiting for Madam Hooch’s whistle. Ginny watched Malfoy’s movement, ready to mark him. Malfoy narrowed his eyes with intense dislike at the youngest Weasley. TWEEEET! The match began.
“Gryffindor in possession, Dennis Creevey zooming up the pitch! He’s going for a shot”LOOK OUT, BOY, THAT’S A BLUDGER!” Dennis barely got out of the bludger’s way in time. A Slytherin scooped up the Quaffle and streaked down the field to Ron.
Ginny shook her head to clear her thoughts and concentrated on looking for the Snitch. Barely twenty feet away from the Gryffindor Seeker was Malfoy.
“If it isn’t the Weaslette!” he called to her. “What’s that you’re riding, Weaslette? Could that be Potter’s broom? Too poor to buy your own?” Malfoy laughed cruelly at his jokes. Ginny ignored him, her jaw set, searching for the Snitch. She sped away from Malfoy, but he followed
“Is that why Potter decided not to show his face here? Because he felt bad for the poor Weaslette and decided to give up his broom?” Malfoy’s jokes were grinding Ginny’s temper. She curled one hand into a fist.
“I myself don’t get it. Potter should have handed the broom over to your brother. Merlin knows he could use the help.” He smirked as Ron failed a save.
Ginny turned around on her broom to glare at the Slytherin. “Shut it, Malfoy or I’ll hex you to next Wednesday! You know I can, ferret-boy.”
Smiling grimly to herself at the look on Malfoy’s face, Ginny went into a dive. She had seen it. The Snitch. Malfoy was right behind her, gaining. Ginny flattened herself against the Firebolt, just as she had seen Harry many times before. Letting go of the broom with both hands, she felt them close around a small, winged ball.
***
Ginny took a long time changing from her Quidditch robes to school robes, and even longer thinking. Everyone else had left; the pitch was deserted when Ginny finally left the locker rooms. It was a chilly November day, the clouds swirling threateningly overhead. Even more threatening was the boy leaning against a tree, waiting for Ginny.
“So Weaslette,” the boy drawled, “pretty proud of yourself, eh?” It was Malfoy. Ginny kept walking, her eyes forward. Malfoy followed after her, calling an incessant stream of insults at her.
“Maybe you and those brothers of yours should go back to that dump you came from.” Ignore him, she thought determinedly. “Yeah, all you Weasels, and Saint Potter and the Mudblood. No need to get excited Weaslette.” Ginny had turned around to face the pale-faced little ferret, her wand pointed between his eyes.
“You keep your shut about my friends,” Ginny growled, trying to be menacing. The six-inch height difference made that difficult. “And leave me alone.” Ginny turned on her heel, leaving Malfoy standing on the grounds, glaring after her.
Ginny stormed her way up to Gryffindor Tower, offending Sir Cadogan on the fourth floor when she refused a duel. Reaching the Fat Lady, she muttered the password (“Pollywogs”) and climbed through the portrait hole. The Gryffindor Common Room showed unmistakable signs of a recent party; Chocolate Frog wrappers littered the ground, someone had spilled a bag of Every Flavor Beans and a large banner bearing the Gryffindor lion (drawn by Dean Thomas, no doubt) was hung across one wall. It seemed that most everyone had gone off to bed. The room was empty but for two people in armchairs by the fire.
“He didn’t even come to the match, Ron,” Hermione was saying anxiously.
“Can you blame him, Hermione? He isn’t going to want to watch Ginny flying the broom from Sirius”“
“Harry needs to get out, with people. I’m getting really worried, Ron; he barely even talks to us anymore.” Ron didn’t argue with this, but merely gazed into the fire. The silence was broken by Ginny slamming the portrait behind her. Ron and Hermione jerked around.
“Where have you been?” Ron demanded. “I haven’t seen you since the match!”
“I was outside,” Ginny snapped angrily. “Is that a problem?” Ron raised his eyebrows at her response.
“Sorry, Gin. What’s the matter with you?” Ginny hung her cloak over an empty armchair and plopped into the seat between Ron and Hermione. Where Harry usually sat.
“Malfoy,” she sneered, and perfectly imitaded the Slytherin brat: “’Where’d you get the broom, Weasley? That thing costs a stack gold, you know. When was your family able to afford such luxuries? I thought your parents were on a hunger strike so they could afford to keep you out of the orphanage.’”
“Don’t let Malfoy get to you, Gin,” Hermione said consolingly. “He was just sore that you beat him.”
“Don’t worry, Ginny, we’ll keep an eye on him. We always do.” Ron grinned.
“Thanks, guys.” Ginny stood up, feeling better, “I guess I’ll go to bed now.” They bid her goodnight, and Ginny climbed the stairs to her dormitory.
One thing was odd when Ginny got beneath her sheets. Her window was open. She never left it open. Ginny climbed out of her four-poster and made to close the curtains. She hesitated, however, when she noticed a scrap of parchment lying on the sill. In green ink someone had written four words:
You flew beautifully today.
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Author’s Note: First fic! R&R! Please and thank you.
Potions and Premonitions by DangerousDai
Disclaimer: JKR owns all things Potter
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The next day, at the Great Hall, Ginny told Hermione of her admirer. Hermione was intrigued, but both of the Gryffindor girls kept their voices low. Harry and Ron were in the chairs across from them and Ginny had no intention of informing either boy of the new developments in her love life.
“What are you going to do?” Hermione asked, gesturing to the note. Ginny shrugged.
“I was hoping you could tell me.” The youngest Weasley buttered a slice of toast and munched on the morsel, still staring at the scrap of parchment. Hermione looked on for a moment before turning to Ron and peering over his shoulder.
“Ron! You haven’t done McGonagall’s essay?!” She cried, exasperated. Ron looked up from his roll of parchment sheepishly.
“I started it.” He muttered, returning to scribbling furiously across the parchment. Hermione’s eyes scanned the page, reading.
“Are you trying to make your handwriting completely illegible so McGonagall won’t notice that you’ve mixed Switching Spells and Figure Spells?” Hermione remarked, “Honestly, Ronald, have you retained any information from your classes at all?”
“Yeah, I have!” Ron said indignantly, gathering up his things and shoving his half-finished essay into his bag.
How many times had those two had the exact same argument? Ginny tried to giggle as she usually did during these squabbles, but her laughter was stilled as she glanced at Harry. His mouth was stretched in a very forced looking grin and his eyes were not focused on his friends, but rather at some point over their heads.
Ginny stared at him a moment. Ever since last year, nothing had been the same. Harry grew more and more introverted as the days passed, and for the life of her, Ginny could not figure out what was wrong. Sirius was dead, yes. The passing of Sirius had taken a huge toll on Harry, but there was something else. Something he was hiding. Ron, Hermione and Ginny often discussed this in Harry’s absence, but thus far, nothing had been revealed.
The bell rang, signaling the students to report to their first class. Ginny bid her friends farewell and made tracks for the dungeons. Most of the fifth years were already seated at their tables. Colin Creevey waved to Ginny as she approached. She nodded to her friend, tossed her bag down, and threw herself into the seat next to him.
“Hey Gin, how’s it going?” perky and pleasant as he always was, Colin smiled, despite his classmates’ Monday morning blues. Ginny shrugged.
“I’m okay, I guess.” She opened her mouth to say more, but she was interrupted by the arrival of Snape.
“Today you will make a Strengthening Solution. Instructions are on the board. Turn in your potion at the end class.” It was later in the day, during potions. Snape barked out his usual instructions and the students set to work.
A quarter of an hour later, Colin nudged Ginny.
“What?” Ginny said, jerking out of her daydream. Colin motioned to the board, than to her cauldron.
“Are you going to get started, Gin?” Colin smiled, but Ginny gasped at the sudden realization that she had yet to begin her potion. Scrambling, Ginny dumped in the ingredients in quick succession with little or no regard to the proper measurements. She stirred feverishly, interrupted by an ominous voice.
“Weasley,” It was Snape. He carefully inspected her potion before glaring at her down his hooked nose. “What is this?” Ginny didn’t answer.
“Is this your Strengthening Solution?” She gave Snape something between a nod and a shrug.
“You do realize, Weasley, that this is your OWL year?” He spoke in a patronizing voice, as though Ginny might be too slow to understand him. She glared right back into the professor’s cold black eyes.
“Yes, I realize that.” She spat through gritted teeth, trying to keep the anger out of her voice and failing miserably.
“That’s a start, I suppose,” Snape said contemptuously, “You must also know that you have been making D’s and P’s all term.” The Slytherins sniggered stupidly. “I think, Weasley that I shall assign you a tutor.” Ginny cringed.
“Yes, I think I have a student quite willing to teach you.” Snape turned and swept past Ginny’s table, but she saw him smirked in such a twisted satisfied fashion that she was inclined to ask:
“And what student would that be, sir?” she exaggerated the ‘sir’ unnecessarily in her resentment. Professor Snape looked back, sneering malevolently.
“Draco Malfoy.”
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The Gryffindor Common Room had a gloomy atmosphere to it that night. Rom and Hermione played a half-hearted game of chess while Ginny worked on her Charms. She had not told them about Snape assigning Malfoy as her tutor. Ginny was trying to find an opportune moment to break the news.
Harry wasn’t there. He was upstairs. He had said that he wanted to turn in early, that he was just tired. Harry was almost always ‘just tired’. None of his friends were fooled by his excuse.
Tonight, however, Harry actually did fall asleep. It was not the comfortable, dreamless sleep he would have preferred; quite the contrary. Another vision was forcing its way through Harry’s subconscious and, whether it was a true event or one of Voldemort’s fabrications, Harry watched.
Voldemort sat in a tall black chair, his spider-like hands resting on the armrests. Before him knelt Lucius Malfoy in his Death Eater robes.
“The boy, he knows the plan then, Lucius?” Voldemort’s high chilling voice rang through the dark room.
“Yes, my Lord, he knows what to do.” Lucius confirmed. Voldemort was pleased.
“Excellent. This will move things along quicker. Should your son succeed he shall be greatly honored.” Voldemort’s eyes narrowed, “Now, what can you tell me about this girl?” Lucius cleared his throat to speak.
“She will be easy enough to ensnare. Silly girl. Potter and the girl’s family would do anything for her safety.”
“She seems strong-willed.” Voldemort commented, slightly concerned.
“She’s nothing.” Lucius answered, “This is the girl who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She’s a perfect choice.”
Silence fell between the Dark wizards, until finally Voldemort said;
“Be sure to tell your son to start moving. That will be all.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Malfoy bowed.
The dream blurred to darkness and the next thing Harry knew, he was laying on his four poster, shaken. Grabbing his glasses from the nightstand, Harry sat up, his scar throbbing painfully. He covered his face in his hands, trying to rub the pain from his forehead.
The pain was not what bothered Harry. It was the dream. They had been talking about Ginny. Was it real? Was Ginny in danger? Was it just a trick? Should he take the bait? No. A voice in his head said very firmly. No. Remember what happened last time? He had fallen for these tricks before, and what had happened? Sirius was killed. A lump came to his throat as he thought of that night.
Harry shook his head. It wasn’t like anyone was being tortured in the dream. He wouldn’t tell anyone; he’d just leave it alone. But he would keep an eye on Ginny.
Talking to Malfoy by DangerousDai
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. How many times must I write this?
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Ginny stared at her baked potatoes, trying to force herself up from the table. Professor Snape had instructed her to arrange a tutoring schedule with Malfoy. That meant she had to talk with Malfoy. Ginny hadn’t wanted to talk to him during dinner, not with the whole school to witness it. Instead, she waited until the Hall was as vacant as possible.
Ginny stole a glance at Malfoy. He was talking to Theodore Nott and gesturing to his Head Boy badge as he did so. Ever since Dumbledore had selected Malfoy as Head Boy, the Slytherin hadn’t stopped gloating for an instant. The usual sneer played around his lips as he spoke to his retinue. He might be an evil conceded git, but that didn’t stop him from being breathtakingly cute. Ginny tried to ignore these these thoughts. It was Malfoy, she told herself, get a grip!
The Hall was fairly empty, save for a few Ravenclaws, a couple Hufflepuffs, and Malfoy’s gang of Slytherins. Ginny was now was heartily wishing that she had paid attention to Potions instead of fantasizing about her admirer. Ginny took a deep breath a started toward the Slytherin table, a resigned, yet determined, look on her face.
“Malfoy.” Ginny said loudly over the Slytherin’s banter. Next to Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson turned around in her seat.
“What do you want, Weasley?” she snarled. Ginny ignored the Slytherin girl and raised her voice insistently.
“Malfoy!”
“What?” Malfoy broke off from his conversation with Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. He smirked when he saw Ginny.
“Need something Weasel girl?” Malfoy asked “Money perhaps?” Ginny glared as the knot of Slytherin laughed loudly at Malfoy’s joke. She set her jaw and told herself to keep her temper.
“Snape told me to talk to you.” Ginny said through bared teeth. Malfoy rolled his eyes.
“Oh right. The failing student I have to tutor.” He sneered, “I’ll be right back guys.” His gang chuckled again, though Ginny failed to see anything funny. Malfoy winked at Blaise and got up from the table.
“Walk, Weaslette,” He told her, setting a quick pace out of the Hall. “So, you’re failing Potions, huh, Weaslette?”
“Yes.” Ginny told him shortly, “Now, what time tomorrow?” She really wanted to get this over with, and she really wanted that sentiment to be obvious.
“Seven’s fine.” He answered, “Dungeons, at seven. Is that alright?” To Ginny’s surprise, the last question was not coated in sarcasm as was usual with Malfoy, but seemed almost sincere.
“Yeah, seven’s fine.”
“Good, it better be.” All sincerity had vanished. Ginny nodded curtly and began to walk away, but Malfoy tagged along with her.
“Now Weaslette, I’m doing you a favor here.”
“Yeah, okay.” Ginny kept walking. Malfoy followed.
“So you owe me one.”
“Sure, whatever, I owe you.” Ginny rolled her eyes and walked faster.
“It is polite to return a favor with a favor, Weaslette.” He continued as the two of them ascended a flight of stairs. “What sort of favor will you do me?”
“Leave me alone, Malfoy.”
He pestered her all the way up the staircase. When Malfoy followed Ginny down two or three more corridors, Ginny switched routes. She wasn’t going to lead him straight up to Gryffindor Tower. They took several deserted passages until they ended up a very discreet corner of the castle.
“Go away.”
“Come on, what will you do for me?” Ginny had had it with Malfoy. She turned around to give him a piece of her mind. But Malfoy had gone. Ginny turned again. The little ferret had dodged head of her, blocking her path, his signature smirk all over that pale pointed (cute) face. Ginny stared at him a bit longer than she meant to. With his hair hanging in his cool gray eyes, and that stunning physique, oh he was gorgeous. Ginny shook her head. What was she thinking?
“Move.” Malfoy shook is head, still smirking teasingly. Ginny scowled and turned to leave the other way, but Malfoy grabbed her hand. Startled, Ginny allowed herself to be pulled closer to him. Before she even knew what was happening, Ginny was backed against a wall and Malfoy was whispering in her ear,
“Go on, what will you do?”
And he kissed her. For moment or two, Ginny was lost in the perfect kiss. Malfoy placed one hand behind her neck and the kiss intensified. His tongue ran along her teeth until Ginny (still gone from reality) allowed the tongue entrance. Ginny had never been kissed like that before”not by Michael Corner, or Dean Thomas, or anyone. Ginny was about to further the kiss herself when she realized what she was doing: she was snogging Malfoy!
Ginny was immediately appalled as she came to herself. She tried to pull back, but Malfoy had her tightly sandwiched between his body and the stone wall behind her. Ginny struggled against him, but she was no match for his strength. Ginny’s resistance only encouraged Malfoy to go after her more. Ooh if she could get to her wand, that ferret would pay!
Just as Ginny had given up her struggle, a voice sounded from the other end of the corridor.
“MALFOY!”
To Ginny’s great relief, the kiss was broken. Malfoy pulled away from her to face the newcomer. Ginny, physically and emotionally exhausted, slid down the wall and landed, curled at Malfoy’s feet. She didn’t look up, she couldn’t face the teacher or Prefect who had caught them.
“What the bloody hell were you doing?!”
Ginny’s eye’s widened and she quickly looked up. She knew that voice; it was Ron! At that moment, Ginny was unsure whether she was relieved to see Ron or not. On one hand, she had needed rescuing, and no one protects better than an older brother. On the other hand, no one freaked out like an older either”particularly when he had caught his baby sister snogging Draco Malfoy.
“Ron!” Ginny gasped. Ron grabbed his sister and hauled her up from the floor.
“What happened? Are you all right? What did he do to you?” Ron hugged Ginny as worried questions poured out of his mouth. From under a crook in Ron’s elbow, Ginny caught a look from Draco. It was a very difficult look to read; angry, yet apologetic, understanding, yet arrogant. Ginny quickly averted her gaze, pretending she had seen the look. When Ron was finished giving his rib-cracking hug, he kept one arm protectively around his sister.
“You stay away from my sister, you understand, Malfoy?” Ron glared at the Slytherin. The look Ginny had seen earlier had vanished from Malfoy’s face and was replaced by a deep scowl.
“I wasn’t aware I was under your orders, Weasel.” He snarled.
“Don’t think this is going to go unreported, ferret face. And keep your filthy hands off my sister.”
Ron turned sharply, dragging Ginny along with him. Neither said a word until they reached the portrait of the fat lady. Ron muttered the password and the siblings entered the tower. As soon as they were in the common room, Ron let go of Ginny.
“Ginny, go on up to bed, you’ve been through such an ordeal. You need your rest.” Ginny was too dazed to argue and allowed Ron to escort her to the staircase to the girls dormitories.
Ron shook his head and retreated to the fire, where Harry and Hermione were studying for Transfiguration.
“What was that about?” Hermione asked, concerned. Ron pounded one fist into his knee before speaking.
“I was on my Prefect duties on the fourth floor corridor and I caught Malfoy snogging Ginny.”
“No!”
“Yes. And the slimy ferret had his filthy hands all over her.” He sucked in a deep frustrated breath. “Git. I could barely get a word out of Ginny; she’ll be traumatized for life.”
Harry flinched as his scar began it’s familiar prickling.
“What’s wrong Harry?” Hermione asked anxiously. Harry shook his head.
“Scar.”
He rubbed his forehead as Hermione and Ron continued to discuss Ginny’s adventure. Harry listened, but said nothing, maintaining very troubled silence.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.