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Their Game by Persephone33
Story Notes:
This is a short story in two parts, this chapter being the first, obviously.

Do you want to know where this came from? It’s a little embarrassing. It’s not a songfic per se, but it was inspired, let’s say, from the lyrics of Rick Springfield's song, I Get Excited.
Chapter 1 by Persephone33
Author's Notes:
For Dragonsangel68, who asked ever so sweetly.

It hurt me to abuse Pansy as I did in this story, but I did it anyway. I'm mercenary like that.
Draco and Blaise stepped out into the snow-covered grounds, and were temporarily blinded by the searing whiteness of it all. Draco shivered as a sharp wind cut through his robes.

The two Slytherins had come outside to have a smoke when Draco noticed that there were two girls, the youngest Weasley and that idiotic Ravenclaw who thought vegetables could double for jewellery, occupying the bench that they usually used, chattering incessantly. Draco started over to move them, but Blaise put a hand up to stop him. It was a sign of their friendship that Draco didn’t hex him on the spot. He merely shot a questioning look at Blaise, who seemed to have only eyes for the blonde.

“Just listen,” Blaise commanded.

Draco pursed his lips, shot his eyebrow to his hairline and crossed his arms. This had better be good, he thought.

The two girls sat in the garden outside the Great Hall and seemed to be chatting about something important to them; one had a dreamy, melodic voice, and the other a more direct, passionate tone. He heard only snatches of the conversation.

“Hmm,” the blonde replied dreamily. “This one’s different. He’s not like other boys.”

“Please, her redheaded friend replied. They’re boys. One is just like the other. They’re all the same. It’s a game. You tease, they notice. You flirt, they flirt back. You show a little thigh-”

Her friend reprimanded her, the dreamy quality of her voice suddenly gone.

“What?” she continued, undeterred by the scolding. “You show a little leg,” she teased, pulling her skirt up to show the tops of her stockings, “they fall all over themselves to open the door for you.”

“I just wish he’d notice me.”

“Oh, Luna, If he noticed you, what then?”

“I don’t know.”

“Rules, Lu, rules,” the redhead preached. “You get him to notice you, and then you are in control. Boys are very simple,” she explained. “They have two speeds. Incredibly turned on, and hungry. And sometimes the two overlap and coincide.”

The blonde dithered. “What if he doesn’t fall all over himself once he notices me?”

“Oh, Lu,” she answered, smiling as she tucked a strand of blond hair behind her friend’s ear, “how could he not?”

“Please. I’m interesting at best. You’re the beautiful one.”

Draco had been torn between watching the slightly erotic scene play out before him and Blaise’s reaction to it. Blaise’s eyes had not moved from the blonde Ravenclaw, but when she made that last statement, both boys looked at her counterpart.

Subjectively, Draco thought, she was alright. Long hair. An unfortunate colour, but there are charms to fix that. She had full lips, and although she had a nice nose, it was covered with unattractive spots. Again, nothing a charm couldn’t fix. Slim, but curved in all the right places. She was wearing a cream coloured cowl-necked jumper under the same coloured cloak, and muggle pants that clung to said curves very well. There is definite potential there, he thought.

The Ravenclaw girl had moved off, and without Draco noticing, Blaise had followed her. He was actually stopped with the girl several yards away and it appeared as if he was chatting her up. Draco smirked and shook his head. His attention moved back to the other girl who was now by herself on the bench. He approached her.

“Well, well. It looks as if an angel has just landed at Hogwarts.”

The girl didn’t even look up from the book that she was writing in. “Has that line ever worked on anyone?”

“Line?” he questioned smoothly. “It’s as if a heavenly being is sitting right before me. I speak only truth, Weasley.”

She dragged her eyes from her book and tapped the feather end of her quill against her cheek. “Is that so, Malfoy? Really?”

“Absolutely,” he assured her.

“You think I’m angelic?” she asked sceptically.

“You certainly look the part, aside from that advice that you gave your friend over there.”

“You were eavesdropping then?” She put her book and quill down on the bench beside her.

“We happened upon a conversation in progress.”

“Where I come from, that’s not very polite.” She tutted.

He flashed a smile at her. “Where I come from, it’s called opportunistic.”

“How was our conversation an opportunity?”

“Well, Blaise just got the chance to talk to his crush, and I got a little insight as to how your mind works.”

“You think?”

“I know, Angel, I know.”

“Do you want to hear what I know, Malfoy?”

“What?”

She stood and approached him. “I know you’re a self-centred git,” she said sweetly. “I know that you have an awful superiority complex. I know that you don’t know my first name, let alone enough about me to make judgements as to how my mind works, so any feelings that you have about me, angelic or otherwise, are coming from the general direction of your pants.”

She certainly is well spoken, he thought.

He closed the space between them and she raised her chin so that she could meet his gaze. “You’re not afraid, Weasley?” he asked as he ran his fingers along the neckline of her jumper.

“Of you? Hardly.”

“Because,” he informed her, “I am decidedly not angelic in the least.”

“So I just stated.”

“Your game,” he inquired. “Want to play?”

“With you?”

“Mmm.”

“By my rules?” she inquired with a amused smile.

“If that’s what you’d like.”

Ginny shook her head. “Mm, no. I don’t think so.”

“Afraid you won’t win?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Good. Because by your rules, we’re already playing.” He bent his head down and brushed his lips against hers, lightly, giving her ample time to pull away. When she didn’t, he placed his hands lightly on her hips and brought her body flush with his. All those curves he’d noticed earlier fit into all the right places, and he deepened the kiss, lightly tracing her pouting bottom lip with his tongue. She sighed, involuntarily, he was sure, and opened her mouth to his invitation. He used all of his considerable skill and talent to entice her into kissing him back, and when she did, he decided that it was well worth the effort. He closed his eyes and was lost momentarily as she alternately sucked on his bottom lip and swirled her tongue around his, making his body respond in ways that he knew it shouldn’t since they were in a public courtyard.

He pulled away, reluctantly, and looked at her still closed eyes. His lips curved into a smirk. “Enjoyed that, did you?”

Her eyes flashed open, full of shock and surprise, and then purposefully narrowed. “No,” she answered determinedly, “I did not.”

He laughed. “Oh, you can’t ignore it, Angel. Every fibre of your being is screaming at you to let me do that again. So what do you say?” he asked as he pulled her against him again, “Want to play?”

Suddenly, Blaise and Luna appeared next to the couple, and Ginny moved away from Draco quickly.

“Everything alright, here?” Luna asked happily.

Draco arched an eyebrow at her. “Perfection.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and dragged her friend away. “C’mon, Luna. Let’s go.”

Blaise stood next to Draco as the watched the retreating females with an amused look on his face. “We could both win,” Draco muttered.

“What was that?” Blaise asked.

“Nothing,” Draco said in a clipped tone. “What’s her name, Blaise?”

“Luna,” said the dark-haired boy, in a voice reminiscent of the girl he’d been talking to. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Who the hell are you talking about, Blaise?”

“Luna? I was just over there with her a minute ago,” he replied, pointing vaguely.

“Oh. What’s the other one’s name?”

“Er, I dunno, why? Didn’t you just call her Angel?”

“Yes, that’s not her name, though.”

Blaise snapped his fingers. “Weasley. She’s the little sister of the idiot that hangs around with Potter.”

“Her given name. Find out, right?”

“Why?” Blaise asked, confused.

“Because, Blaise, that little angel is about to sin.”

******************************************

Draco was displeased.

Blaise shrugged his shoulders as he sat down next to Draco on the Slytherin common room sofa. “I still don’t know. I didn’t see anyone around that I could ask. Just call her little Weasley,” he offered.

Draco looked at Blaise, disgusted. “I needed one thing, and you couldn’t even do that. You realize what you’ve forced me to do, don’t you?” Draco’s expression changed to nauseated. He sighed dramatically. “Pansy?”

“What are you doing?” Blaise whispered furiously.

“I have to, don’t I?” he hissed back. “You didn’t do your job, and no one else in here would know,” Draco hissed back.

Pansy lifted her head in Draco’s direction. “Yes, Draco?” she asked eagerly.

“The littlest Weasley,” Draco began. “What’s her first name?”

She sauntered over in a manner that Draco could only assume she thought to be seductive. It wasn’t. It looked rather like a cross between a drunk duck and a camel. Pansy leaned over the back of the couch and put her arms around his neck from behind. “Why do you want to know, darling?”

Draco felt as if he was being choked. Blaise shot him a vaguely sympathetic look. “Oh, it’s for a game I’m playing, that’s all, Pansy.” He removed her hand from his neck so he could breathe and kissed her palm. “So what is it?”

Pansy giggled and sighed. “Ginny, I think. Awful, isn’t it? She’s a pureblood. Her parents could have given her a proper name, don’t you think?”

“Like Pansy?” Blaise muttered.

Draco removed her other hand and held them both, forcing a pleasant expression on his face. “How’s Transfiguration coming?”

Her face fell a little. “Oh, er, better--”

He nodded. “You’d better get back to it, then, right?”

She giggled sycophantically. “Oh, yes, of course, you’re right. I will.” She moved back over to her schoolwork and resumed her position with her books.

Draco sank back into the sofa and shivered. “Merlin, I detest speaking to that.”

“I hate to remind you mate, but you just kissed its hoof.”

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you right now. It’s your fault I had to stoop to that, anyway.”

“Still. You put your lips on it.”

“It’s all part of the game.”

“What’s this game, Draco? Seriously. What does Weasley’s sister have to do with anything?” Blaise asked nervously.

"Stop whinging, Blaise. Are you scared I’m going to ruin it for you and her little friend?”

“Yes, frankly, Draco, that’s precisely what I’m scared of. Don’t, please. Luna is… different.”

“Obviously,” Draco stated wryly.

“Watch it, mate,” Blaise said with a smile. “I understand the humour in the situation, but there’s a chance that it might get serious. So tell Blaise. What’s the plan with the little Gryff?”

“Oh, this and that,” Draco replied, his manner noncommittal.

“You like her.”

Draco glanced evenly at Blaise, and said, “No.”

Blaise sat back with a smug smile plastered to his face. “I’m going to refrain from dancing about the common room and singing it out loud, for fear of being hexed, but you admit it right now or I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“No.”

“Pansy?” Blaise called out.

Draco clapped a hand over his friend’s mouth and hissed, “Shut up! Fine. Yes. Fine! It’s true. I might be interested in her. Might. As a Distraction.”

Blaise mumbled something from behind Draco’s hand. Draco gave his friend a warning look and released him.

As soon as he was free, Blaise called out again, “Pans-”

Draco locked him down again. “Fine!” Draco whispered. “I like her, okay? Please don’t call that over here.”

Blaise nodded.

“Do you swear?” Draco asked.

Blaise rolled his eyes and nodded again.

Draco released him, and Blaise’s body relaxed and he smiled.

Draco sneered at his so-called best friend. “What did I ever do to you? You can’t just go around threatening it on me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Blaise asked. “Do you want just the list from this term or the alphabetical and numerical cross-referenced one that I began when we were still toddling about the Manor?”

Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise could be overly dramatic sometimes. He had the information he needed. That was really all that mattered.

**********************************************

Over the next few weeks, Draco spent more time than was strictly necessary, in his opinion, thinking about the little Gryffindor. First of all, she was bloody impossible to get alone. He’d never noticed it before, but the Gryffs moved in packs.

He caught a flash of red hair every now and then, but it was always in the midst of a crowd of people. At mealtimes, the little chit always sat with her back to him, swinging that mane of hair behind her shoulder carelessly.

He was looking in her general direction during dinner one evening, when she moved suddenly, catching his eye. She threw her leg over the bench she was sitting on, straddling it, and exposed an expanse of creamy thigh when her pleated school skirt rode up. His breath caught in his throat when she leaned over to the git she’d been sitting next to, laughed and placed her hands on the bench between her legs. She leaned over again, whispered something in the bastard’s ear, -Finnegan, he noted, must remember to hex him the next time I get a clear shot, he thought— and the bastard laughed loudly and put his hand under her chin briefly.

Ginny then stood and stepped away from the table, swinging her glance in his direction. Her gaze locked with his, she smirked, and then winked at him. Oh, seriously, he thought. This little angel knows exactly what she’s doing. Draco mirrored her expression and watched her backside as she sauntered out of the Hall. She was no angel at all, and this piece of information excited him very much.

*****************************************

It was another week before he managed to catch her alone. After the Saturday Quidditch match, wherein Hufflepuff had humiliated Ravenclaw in a game that was spectacularly lacking in action but blessedly short to compensate, Draco caught Ginny by the arm as she was leaving the stands and dragged her behind a spirit banner that Ravenclaw had put up earlier that day.

“Malfoy? What do you think you’re doing?” she asked in clipped tones.

Draco snorted. “Don’t pretend you’re angry now, with the amount of teasing that’s been going on in the last fortnight,” he commanded, pushing her body up against one of the stadium’s support beams.

Her eyes widened and she blinked rapidly several times, worrying her lip between her teeth. Her expression was one of uncertainty, but Draco wasn’t sure he believed it.

“You know, Angel, biting your lip doesn’t make you look innocent or nervous. Not when I know the truth,” he said, running his thumb along her chin. “It’s even a little hypocritical, considering you kept those pretty lips open the last time I kissed you.”

She released her bottom lip from its temporary prison and pouted slightly, cocking her head to the side. “Am I hypocritical, Malfoy?”

He raised an eyebrow in response.

She frowned, fingering a button on his oxford. “Because I was certain that you dragged me back here to kiss me."

“I might have,” he replied.

She chuckled softly. “You did. You want to kiss me so badly you can’t stand it.” Her fingers moved to touch his lips. “Probably more than that, as well,” she said suggestively, moving against him. She curled her hand around the back of his neck, twining her fingers in his hair and moving to her tiptoes as she brought his mouth down to hers.

He responded eagerly, not only with his mouth but with his hands, moving them to all of the places he could without being too inappropriate in broad daylight.

After a few moments, she pulled away, eyeing him with a satisfied smile on her face. “Mm hmm. You did want to kiss me.”

“Apparently.”

“Yet I’m the hypocrite? A girl doesn’t want to be someone’s secret, Malfoy, or for the bloke she likes to be ashamed of her. You can’t snog me in private and ignore me completely the rest of the time.” She studied him for a moment more, then moved quickly out of his grasp and out from behind the banner that hid them.

Draco stood as if Stunned for a moment, then quickly caught up to walk beside her back to the castle. “You’re not afraid of what your family or housemates might think if they saw you with me?” he asked.

She stopped walking suddenly, and he turned to face her.

“No.”

Draco was rendered momentarily speechless. He hadn’t been expecting so abrupt an answer.

She shook her head. “That’s what I thought,” she replied, and walked away.


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