--JK owns these characters, of course.
--Before this, Ginny and Draco had been arguing in the library, and, in order to shock him, best him, and still be able to leave, she kissed him (pounced on him, more like). I daresay they both enjoyed it. Here is the tense scene directly after that encounter.
--I do so appreciate your reviews, dear readers! Thanks in advance.
***
Ginny walked into the Great Hall- no, she sauntered into the Great Hall- and sat down near her sixth year friends. Neville smiled at her kindly, and she grinned in reply. Hermione asked her where she had been, and Ginny merely said she’d been studying in the library. Harry and Ron were talking about the next Quidditch match, and Ginny joined in their conversation. ‘No need to bring up anything about kissing…’ she thought. Or Draco. Or, namely, anything involving KISSING Draco.
She pointedly ignored Draco as he walked smugly into the room, as he pointedly ignored her. He swaggered over to his table and sat down- amidst the talking and laughter of his sophomoric friends, she thought, not looking up. She spoke louder to Harry and Ron, in order to block out Draco’s presence at the corner of her consciousness. It almost worked.
She took a bite of food, not paying him any mind. He took a sip of pumpkin juice, not giving her any attention. She made a point about SOMETHING in the conversation she was having, while struggling to listen to the reply. He snickered at something his friend said, his attention partially diverted by her.
Her leg began to bounce a little under the table; whether it was from annoyance, impatience, or excitement, no one could say. His hand was fisted and sitting on the table next to his place, knuckles turning white.
“Are you alright, Ginny?” Neville asked, taking a break from his conversation with a fourth year. Ginny nodded slowly- her cheeks had begun turning slightly pink. She took a sip of water, trying to clear her mind. Ron said something scathing in regards to the Slytherins, and she laughed absently, staring at the table’s top.
Draco snuck a covert glance in her direction. She looked about to choke on her tongue. He looked away. Her eyes shot up guiltily- his face was pale. Very pale. This calmed her down, seeing him tight-lipped in distraction. She went lazily back to her conversation, feeling almost content at his plight. Until she realized her own plight. And Ginny being delusional- was Hermione looking at her, while sporting a curious gleam in her eye? Hermione looked down when Ginny smiled at her.
He brought his gaze up to her face, grimly thinking about her torment, in almost rapturous glee. He tried to think about his classes, and damned himself when he wasn’t able to. He tried to think of Pansy, who (while not very attractive) WAS sitting right next to him. He should have been thinking of transfiguration-- he had to make up a test; he‘d recently missed a day of classes. He ought to have been thinking about an article he’d just read in The Daily Prophet, which had vaguely alluded to his father. He should have been thinking up insults for the glorious threesome. But he couldn’t. The vast, dark spaces in his head were filled with thoughts of-- damnably--HER!
“Hell,” he muttered, twisting the large, rather ugly, ring that sat prominently on his index finger. She was a distraction, which irked him considerably, as he saw her about as worthy of his attention as a red-headed stepchild. Come to think of it, she very well could’ve been a red-headed stepchild, which could account for the large size of her family; except he already knew she wasn‘t. He shuddered inside, not wanting to think about it.
He looked away as her eyes slid to his visage. She didn’t understand why people found his handsome-- he was extremely angular, first of all. Or perhaps he was just looking a bit peaky. Then again, maybe it was the addition of her presence or the fact that she was giving him attention that caused it. If so, she rather liked having that affect on him, not that she’d done it on purpose. She wasn’t THAT devious.
She’d only wanted to get to dinner. It was HIS fault he’d stood in the door of the library, directly blocking her path, daring her to do it. (Hell, though, she hadn’t needed to kiss him.) She’d been caught up in the moment-- passion in the heat of battle. No. Not passion. She didn’t remotely like him or feel anything resembling passion towards him. Oh God-- did that make her a tease?
Well, he didn’t seem to be complaining about her motives, she noticed wryly, though he was, at that moment, looking at her with a gaze that held more than mild irritation.
How had this come about? She continued to wonder, but couldn’t come up with an answer that satisfied her.
Their gazes crashed and they both looked away, alarmed. He found this heartening. She was leery of him; he’d long grown accustomed to that reaction from people. He chanced another wary glance (without admitting he was wary) and saw her flip her hair over her shoulder, either nervously or impatiently. She really was rather unusual-looking-- he didn’t necessarily like that. Well, at least she looked very little like her brother, that great gorilla Ron. That was encouraging. And he’d seen her parents-- she really didn’t have a lot to work with. She was quite lucky, considering.
She played Quidditch like a demon, though. He had to admit she had that going for her (however grudgingly he did so). She was no match for the bigger, more “experienced” players, of course. But she could occasionally manage to hold her own. That was quite a compliment, considering many of the other players were twice her size, with half her common sense; they simply didn’t realize when they were putting themselves in a dangerous situation. She, however, did realize it, and did it anyhow, while managing to stay alive.
By this time, both Ginny and Draco were blocking out their friends’ comments; their eyes were constantly flitting back and forth, avoiding direct contact.
She didn’t regret kissing him. She’d gotten a twisted satisfaction out of leaving him speechless. She’d even enjoyed herself (though not immensely, she thought)-- not that she would tell him that, his ego was already lousy with petty compliments. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing another person kowtowing. Let him fawn over her--no, scratch that. That was a sickening thought. She saw his robe-covered elbow resting on the table as she dared look near again. His lithe arm snaked its way out of his dark sleeve. She shook herself and glance over at her friends once again.
Ah, her friends. Some people simply couldn’t forgive her the friendship she and Harry shared. Most people wanted it to be romantic in nature; otherwise, they felt it was prosaic. But she could no longer see herself dating him, thank God. He was all wrong for her, despite the love they felt for one another.
And so, between then, they held a passionate friendship- nothing more. Or, maybe because it was so complex, they held everything. No matter. Anyone who thought they were romantically involved rarely stayed around to hear any explanation past “no, we’re not.”
She then looked, with lukewarm eyes, to Draco. She managed a smirk in his direction, then quickly looked away. He raised his brows in surprise, then looked around. Surely SOMEone had to suspect? They weren’t exactly being discreet. Was everyone REALLY as stupid as he’d always suspected them to be?
Ginny shifted in her seat as Harry leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She laughed loudly, “impolitely,” and Draco scowled. She saw him scowl, which caused her to laugh harder. She was full of restless energy. Again, as she looked away, she mused that Hermione was giving her a small, knowing smile. That is, until Ginny raised a brow in her direction, and Hermione looked away.
Pansy said something insulting about Gryffindor to Draco, with her merciless tongue and wit. It would have been insufferably amusing if he hadn’t been captivated- no, annoyed, his subconscious mind told him- by something (oh, screw that, SOMEONE) else.
Gregory Goyle laughed in a low tone at whatever Pansy had said. He tapped Draco’s shoulder (not very gently, mind) with his meaty claw of a hand and asked if Draco was alright. “Sure, fine,” he said.
“Then why are you staring at that Weasley girl?” Goyle asked next. Shit. Goyle wasn’t nearly as stupid as everyone gave him credit for.
“I…” Draco started, then stopped, once again at a loss for words.
***
“No, really, Ginny, tell me what he did!” Harry pleaded. As a matter of course, the “he” was Draco.
“He didn’t DO anything to me!” she said, still chuckling. His loyalty really was quite amusing-- endearing, if annoying.
“Then why do you keep glancing at him?” Ron asked, with a mouthful of food, acting suspicious, and more than a bit really worried.
“I like a challenge,” she said, smiling and waving a hand dismissively.
“A challenge,” Hermione said flatly, raising a brow. Damn, that girl was too clever for her own good. Ginny hadn’t even known Hermione was really listening. “Is that another word for conquest?” she continued, twisting her mouth to the side.
Ginny laughed again, loudly, much more enthusiastically than before. She was buying herself time, trying to find an answer that wouldn’t cause Ron to yell. Sadly, there wasn’t one.
Ron snidely added, “You know, you’ve been acting really strangely when it comes to him. What’s going on? C’mon, Ginny, I have a right to know.”
‘Well,’ she thought angrily, ‘here goes. This is where the talking stops.’
“Ronald Weasley,” she said, glaring at him, “Not only do you not have a right to know, you have no need. What if I refused to tell you? What then?” She stared at him accusingly.
“Ginny,” Hermione said, eyebrows raised provocatively, heading off Ron‘s further comments. “Would you care to tell me what’s going on?” See, Hermione wasn’t accusing, Hermione wasn’t insinuating! Why couldn’t her brother learn more from his alleged best friend? If only Ron could pay a bit more attention and a bit less time being snippy- but no. This was certainly not the time to be evaluating Ron and Hermione’s twisted relationship, no matter how satisfying it would be to see them together.
Ginny closed her eyes, sighing. “Well, Hermione, since you’ve asked so nicely, I suppose I can tell you. You’d manage to find out somehow.” Ginny took a breath, then another, deeper breath. “I kissed him.”
***
“I kissed her.”
***
“What?!” came two very separate, but still equally angry, screeches.
***
A good half of the Gryffindor table looked up at the Slytherin offenders, glaring and annoyed. The Slytherins glared right back. Ron looked about ready to have an apoplexy, Hermione looked weary at his outburst, and Harry looked as though he might vomit. Some nearby Gryffindor girls were giggling madly, asking how it had been, kissing Draco. At least someone at her table wasn’t totally distraught by her doings, Ginny thought sordidly.
***
“That’s disgusting!” Pansy hissed, managing a quieter, if still pissed, tone.
Draco shrugged nonchalantly. “It was a dare,” he replied. He’d known she would react this way. He would have, if the situation were reversed and Pansy had kissed, say, Potter. His mind felt dirty at the mere thought
“Yeah? With who? They bloody well had better give you extra for convincing that uptight little goody-goody to kiss you,” she said, scowling. Draco knew full well Ginny was no “goody-goody;” she couldn’t be, to kiss like that. She kissed more wickedly than she flew; and she was at least a bit scary on a broom, that much was certain.
Draco merely eyed Pansy, arching a silver brow and smiling cryptically. “She didn’t take much convincing,” he said, wondering, at the same time, about the situation he had just managed to land face-first (ass-first?) into. He was trying to sound lecherous, to shove Pansy off the scent, but he was handling it poorly.
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Pansy said. “Like I’m about to believe she was falling all over herself to get to you,” she snorted. Pansy stood up regally and left, muttering something about “washing your feet in muddied waters.” Draco rolled his eyes cruelly and went back to his meal, loving the way this was sure to play out. He knew he’d better enjoy the whole stupid thing while he could. Soon enough, Harry and his cronies would be after him with the lynch mob.
***
“You can’t go around and do that!” Ron said angrily.
“Why the hell not?” Ginny asked coyly, trying to restrain herself from rising to his anger.
“It’s just- not done!” he sputtered, sure this would satisfy her.
“Way to tell me AFTER the fact,” she said, rolling her eyes. She stood up, her hair swishing around her shoulders, and walked out the door. She could feel a set of eyes upon her back. She smiled to herself at the challenge they proposed. ‘You’ve got yourself a deal, Draco,’ she thought daringly. ‘Let’s hope you live to rue the day. You’re not getting out of this one just yet. Not when you decided to mess with me.’