Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine.

Under the Oak Tree

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as I pick uninterestedly at my dinner. I knew he wouldn’t notice me looking at him. He never has before. Well, technically, I don’t really blame him for not noticing my frequent…“glances.” He’d never suspect a Weasley… a Gryffindor… a muggle-lover… or anyone above, below or even partially related to those terms, to be staring at him. There is also the minor fact that it’s a bit hard to notice someone discreetly throwing looks at you from across the Great Hall. That, I must say, works quite well to my advantage. There are no awkward questions.

Though, I am a bit surprised Ron hasn’t said anything. Perhaps he hasn’t even noticed… even better. One thing I definitely don’t need is brother dear hounding me about “inappropriate lookings.” Yes, it really is lookings. He made up the phrase himself. After all, he’s the one who’s guilty of it most of the time. Hermione defines it as eating with the eyes. In other words, leering. Which I most certainly am not, of course... that would just be Ronald overly exaggerating, as usual. Yet again, I’m thankful he hasn’t noticed. But Hermione… you can never tell with that girl. I mean, while Ron and most of the student body is rather thick with these types of things (unless there’s some benefit), Hermione doesn’t miss a thing. I’ve always said she’s got some sort of sixth sense, or… whatever that stuff it called.

But now, it’s strange. Like I said, she notices almost everything (or in Ron’s words, she’s “always so bloody nosy”) yet it depends on whether or not she chooses to comment on it. But, if she has noticed my, err… fleeting looks, wouldn’t she bombard me with questions like, “Why in the name of all that is good are you always bloody staring at Draco Malfoy?”

Well, no, I take that back. Hermione would be more civil about it. She would pull me quietly off to the side, smile kindly, and calmly question me about my sanity. Which is why I’m asking myself if I’m slicker than I thought… really, I shouldn’t be getting away with this…

I watch contemplatively as he swipes a stray piece of blonde hair out of his eyes and carries on a conversation with one of his teammates. Quidditch, I assume he’s talking about. One thing I find interesting, as I’ve watched him, is that he rarely ever talks to his supposed “body guards”, Crabbe and Goyle. They are always looming somewhere off to the side, conversing a bit with themselves (more like grunting to each other over heaps of food), but always looking a bit lost. I imagine they think of Malfoy as their master, as if they need guidance in who to talk to, where to go, what to think. But Malfoy seems to always brush the poor lumps off, only speaking to them when it’s absolutely necessary. Honestly, I don’t blame him. Trying to talk to Crabbe and Goyle must be like trying to strike up a conversation with a doorknob.

These are some of the times I wonder about myself. Why do I watch him?

I find myself making all these observations about his life yet I know next to nothing about him, other than that he enjoys making Harry’s, Ron’s, and Hermione’s lives hell. And even that has toned down a bit. It’s not his looks, although he’s certainly not a gargoyle. He’s actually got quite a bit of fans, all into his “bad boy” reputation. I snort to myself. It must be that they all think they can “change him” or some rubbish like that. I heard, quite unwillingly, my roommates talking about it once. Although I don’t know him that well, I sincerely doubt he’d want some obsessed twit following him around everywhere claiming that he’s just an angel in disguise. I flatly refused to join that conversation. I’m sure I’m not the only girl that stares at him, but I doubt they do it for the same reason I do. I know my reason has really nothing to do with how he looks, but that’s as far as I’m willing to go. Frankly, I don’t really want to think about the real reason.

“Ready, Gin?”

I snap out of my daze and look up to find Colin waiting for me. My dear, lovely, sweet Colin, one of the many men in my life… also the one I can tolerate most, as he is, well, my best friend.

“Suppose so,” I reply without enthusiasm. I take a last bite of my virtually untouched breakfast and hop to my feet.

Colin raised an eyebrow, glancing at my full plate. “I see you’ve had quite a filling breakfast. What with you barely touching it, and all.”

I snort and swing my bag over my shoulder. “Let’s get to class, you unbearable lump.”

“My, are we friendly today.”

“Finals, Colin.”

“Ah.”

I take his arm companionably as we begin to walk toward the exit, but a voice stops me in my tracks.

“—Malfoy, will you please just--,”

“Granger, just bloody tell me where they went and I’ll leave you the hell alone--,”

“I’m warning you, Malfoy--,”

I whirl around and find Malfoy, the great imposing creature himself, boring down upon Hermione… who, in her case, looked about ready to spit nails. I caught Colin’s eye in surprise. “What do you suppose…?”

Malfoy tried again, “Just tell me where Weasley is, and I’ll--,”

I caught my breath and felt myself go pale. No, it couldn’t be. He didn’t… he never saw… he couldn’t have known… could he?

I feel myself stumble backwards and I faintly hear Colin calling to me, alarmed. But only one train of thought ran through my mind as I tore through the crowds of students that were scattered around in the halls… he couldn’t have known. He never gave any indication… wouldn’t he have… what if…

Suddenly, I skidded to a stop. I felt like smacking my fist on my forehead. Malfoy said that he was looking for a Weasley…he didn’t really specify which one he was looking for… for all I know, he could be looking for Ron. But… what if he wasn’t? Why would he be looking for Ron, anyway? He detests Ron. There would be no reason. But me… I… I think I would understand if Malfoy had been looking for me… if he had been staring at me all year long, I would be wondering about it too. The thing is… I don’t know why I’ve watched him for so long. I wouldn’t know what to say.

I continued to walk down the corridor in a slow, almost painful pace. Deciding not to think about what I would say if Malfoy all of a sudden descended upon me demanding why I had been acting like a stalker… say he was looking for me in the Great Hall… why was he asking Hermione? Maybe just as I got up and left he came over and he didn’t see me… but that doesn’t make sense… he must’ve seen me…

The more I thought about it, the less likely it sounded that it was me he was looking for. Maybe it didn’t have to do with me at all, in the first place…

Oh, bloody hell. I drop down dejectedly, completely uncomprehending that I was sitting in the middle of the floor. I drag myself to the wall and prop myself to a sitting position and lean my head against the cold stone. I acted like a bloody ninny, staring at him like he’s You-Know-Who himself and running like a scared little bunny-rabbit. Also, to make matters worse, Colin’s probably having a heart attack right now… it’s not very often that I suddenly go rigid and disappear without a word…

I groan and bang my head against the wall a couple of times. Why don’t I ever just think things through? Instead of looking at the logical side, I go completely nuts and end up making everything much worse for myself.

I stop my rather unhealthy mental (and physical) bashing and sigh. What’s the use of beating myself up about it? The damage is done, and everyone already thinks I’ve totally gone bonkers. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised… after all; staring at Draco Malfoy for months has done absolutely nothing for my sanity.

---

“Tell me the truth.”

“What are you on about?”

“Come on, Ginny, do not play dumb with me.”

“I have absolutely no bloody idea what you are talking about.”

Colin glared at me threateningly. I stared back, trying to look ignorant, but probably ended up looking defiantly guilty… if there is such a thing.

“I’ve known you for 5 years, Weasley…”

“And?” I shot back, knowing very well that he must be pretty angry if he calls me by my surname.

“And I can tell when you’re lying. As a matter of fact, your left eye twitches.”

“What?” I claim, doubtfully. My hand unconsciously moves to cover my eye. “It does not!”

Colin, my dear, sweet Colin, smirks at me. “It does.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Does.”

“Doesn’t.”

“Does.”

“This is getting us nowhere. My god, Ginny, just tell me… why did you flee like a frightened mouse this morning when you saw Malfoy? I know for certain it couldn’t have been his dazzling looks… most girls are actually drawn to him like magnets for that… they definitely don’t run from him…”

I glare at him. Sometimes Colin can be just like Hermione. He notices things I’d really rather have him ignore… but, being the nosy, good friend he is, he has to pry like a sneaky little twit… Well, I amend myself. He certainly isn’t a twit.

“Well?” he prompts.

I hastily look away. “Um… well, you see… I… I…”

“Ginny!”

I jolt back in fright but am nearly doused in relief when I realize Ron just crawled through the Common Room and is stalking towards me. Wait, stalking… not a good thing…

“Ginevra Molly Weasley,” he growls as he towers over me.

I look up at him innocently. “Yes?”

“Explain to me why you of all people--,”

“Pardon me,” Colin cut in icily. “I believe I was speaking to Ginny.”

I flinched. Ron turned to stare at the younger boy, looking slightly taken aback. “Huh?”

Colin began to look a bit annoyed. “I was speaking to Ginny, privately, before you stampeded over here. Do you mind?”

Ron glared at him, a slightly self-righteous look on his face. “This is rather important, Creevey.”

“This is as well.”

I stared between my brother and my best friend with a guilty look on my face.

“Um, look…” I start hesitantly.

“Ginny,” Ron said irately, “Just tell me why Draco Malfoy tracked me down today to ask me why my little sister is always staring at him.”

I gaped at him. My throat closed up and I felt like I was going to fall through the floor at any moment. My mind raced with outrageous explanations, all of them as distressing as the next. How did he know? How could I have not realized he had found out? Why didn’t I figure it out? Why do I watch him anyway?

My sanity level must have gone down a notch as I stared at my brother, not even seeing him, my thoughts clashing together violently.

“Gin?” Colin said uncertainly when I was unresponsive. He shook my shoulder lightly. “Are you all right?”

I turned to look at him and he thankfully didn’t seem like he was about to strangle me for the truth at the moment.

I think about making something up, but I know that my twitching eye would totally give me away. I turn my gaze back on my brother. He is watching me contemplatively. Not good. Must think of something.

“Um… Why… why would he say that?” Good job, Gin.

Ron narrowed his eyes. “I have no idea. He asked me if I was coaxing you to do it.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “He wanted to know if I was making you do it to annoy him or something.”

“And what did you say?” I asked in a small voice.

He stared at me suspiciously. “I said, of course not. Why the hell would I want you to stare at him like some bloody stalker?”

I grimaced. Good question, anyway.

I glanced at Colin. He was looking at me strangely. So busted.

“I don’t know why he’d say that…” I mutter nervously.

There was a very loud silence. Well, considering the Common Room was full of rowdy Gryffindors, it was very loud. But a very strange silence had stretched between us three…

“Well!” Colin spoke up suddenly. “Time to go to dinner, don’t you think?” He said cheerfully as he took my arm and began to drag me toward the exit.

“What are you…” I gasp.

“Hey! Give her back!” I hear Ron yell before the portrait swung shut.

“Bloody idiot,” Colin muttered. I turn to gap at him, but although he still had my arm, he wasn’t looking at me. Very brave chap, he is. He pulled me along quickly.

“Colin, what in the world are you--,”

He whirled around suddenly. “Me? What am I doing? It’s you! You don’t have go around making it so bloody obvious.”

I looked up at him. “What’s obvious?” I whisper, but I think I already know.

He stared hard at me. “You fancy Malfoy.”

Here it is. Denial. “I… you're crazy… I don’t…”

He raises an eyebrow, and points to my left eye. I sigh and look away. “I don’t know,” I say quietly.

“Why do you watch him, Ginny?”

I clear my throat. “Good question.”

“Ginny, look…” he stops me suddenly. “I know you’re confused, but listen. Your going to have to think of some sort of… alibi for your brother. He can’t know the truth. At least, not until you and Malfoy work things out.”

I say nothing. He sighs. “I’ve got to go, all right? I’ve got detention.”

“What about dinner?” I blurt out.

He shrugs. “I’ll stop by the kitchens later. Don’t bother waiting up, love.” He says as I open my mouth. “And…” he pauses, “Just… think about everything, all right?”

I nod, distractedly. “Bloody McGonagall…” he mumbles as he walks away, glancing back at me a every few seconds.

I stare at his retreating form for a couple of moments. “There’s nothing to think about,” I mutter to myself. Then I shake my head. Why bother lying to myself? With this whole left-eye twitching thing, I’ll never be left in peace. I'm just surprised Ron hasn't caught up yet.

---

I prop myself against a large oak tree and sigh, content. No questioning brothers… no all-knowing best friends… just me, the tree, the wind, and the lake. The sun had just set, and beams of fading orange light fell across the dew-covered grass and against my face, warming me.

I yawn widely as I stretch out on the grass and stare above me between the branches of the huge oak. This tree has been around as long as I can remember… Mum said it was even here in her days, and it hadn’t changed a bit. She said that perhaps Dumbledore had charmed it to freeze in one form, preventing it from dying. Or maybe he had just slowed the growing process down… or it could be the tree was very capable, so used to all the students lounging around under it’s leaves, it refused to wither up and die.

Or maybe I’m just acting like a ninny.

Whatever the case, the tree is just simply spectacular. The knots along the truck are so intricate, it looks as if it was carved carefully from a small chisel. The bark is a deep, rich brown and the leaves are huge and always freshly green. Feeling myself smile slightly, I breath in the sweet scent that always seems to radiate from the tree. Perhaps that’s why all the boys that want to romance a girl come here, turn on the charm, and let the tree do the rest of the work. I snort loudly. Only a total pouf would fall for the old tree act. Although it is pretty seductive, I amend myself as I pat one of the roots that are sticking out of the ground fondly.

“May I ask why you are patting the root of a tree? Is it that you like to be filthy, or that you just can’t help it?”

The sharp voice cut through the sweet calm that I had spiraled around myself. I sit up quickly and take in the pair of legs that I am now eye-level with. I look up slowly and I find the cause of my affliction smirking down on me. I jump to my feet and stumble back.

“Ever heard of announcing one’s presence?” I snap numbly. I feel my face heating up and I feel like I’m being smothered by the small rays of sun that are barely peaking out from behind a cloud. I place a hand on the tree for support and the other hand on my racing heart… which was not all from being surprised, I realize, horrified. I’m not ready for him to confront me yet! I had just come out here twenty minutes ago, after deciding to skip dinner. Time to think my arse.

“What do you want?” I continue hastily.

Malfoy looked at me strangely, and after a moment, he shrugged. “What do YOU want?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

He gave me a hard look. “You watch me.”

I feel like someone has knocked the wind out of me for the third time that day. What IS it with people being so straightforward nowadays?

I open my mouth hesitantly. “I… I suppose.”

He raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. “You suppose? Is that a ‘Yes, I stalk you, so what?’ or a ‘Yes, I stalk you, please fall madly in love with me?’”

Feeling a bit agitated, I reply, “All right, first of all, I don’t stalk you. Stalking you would require me to be following you. I, however, do not. I only look at you, and only at meal times.”

He smirked at me. “And second of all…?”

“And second of all… I…” I pause, and feel myself blush, “I… don’t want you to fall madly in love with me…” I hope he doesn't notice my eye twitching.

“Then what do you want?”

I don’t answer. He watches me for a while, but when I don’t make a motion to answer, he begins to walk toward me. I back up quickly, but I have nowhere to go but into the tree.

When he’s close enough that I can feel his breath on my face, he stops. “Why do you watch me?” He murmurs.

Trying to breathe without breathing in HIM, I say softly, “I think you're… fascinating.”

“Why?”

I look up and am paralyzed by his narrowed, intense gray eyes. Every breath I take I am inhaling his scent, which is surprisingly earthy. Like he had been lying in the grass. His light hair is falling slightly into his face, having come out from the slicked back style he always adorns. Should I tell him the truth? He doesn’t know about my left eye yet. Wait… yet?

“Because…” I whisper, “You're… you.”

I know my answer doesn’t make sense, but he doesn’t comment. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. He just stares at me… strangely? Thoughtfully? Bemusedly? I can’t decide. He’s unreadable.

Then I realize our position. It’s like I’m sandwiched between Malfoy… Draco… and the oak tree. Why is he so… close…?

“Dra—Malfoy? Um… you realize that we—,”

Before I know what’s happening his face is close to mine… very close… and I let out a startled squeak as he presses his hard, thin lips to mine, and he is kissing me… and I don’t know what to do, but he doesn’t seem to mind… he wraps his arms around my waist and I am pulled hot up against him… not knowing what to do with my hands, I place them on his shoulders…

I hesitantly begin to kiss him back… I know I’m inexperienced, but that’s the last thing on my mind… It’s the softest thing I’ve ever experienced, and I feel slightly dazed as he runs his tongue over my lip… It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt… he matches my every angle and I doubt that I’d ever be able to be kissed by another guy without comparing it to this…

Finally, he pulls away, and I’m flushed, breathing heavily, like I’ve just run a mile. Malfoy… Draco is breathing as hard as I am. I look away, embarrassed, as he gives me another unreadable look.

“Is that why, Weasley?” he says, breathlessly, a hint of a smile on his face.

I hear a sharp intake of breath as I slide my hands up his chest and across his shoulders, leaning forward slightly, and breath in deeply… that’s when I realize that I’m smelling a sweet, rich, berry scent mingled with his distinct smell… I smile slightly. The tree really IS powerful... and I doubt Dumbledore has anything to do with it.

“Call me Ginny,” I murmur as I press my mouth to his slack lips… staring really does have its advantages.

A/N: Fun and fluff. Please review… and you can have a turn under the oak tree.