First off, I just want to state for the record that I may very well have gone insane. Really. I’m not even trying to be funny or anything. But see, I have this thing where if someone says “you can’t” or “you wouldn’t”…well I will. It’s not that I’m one of those “hardcore bitches” that has all this dignity and feminist power and stuff…I guess you could just call it instinct.

That’s why when Malfoy told me today during lunch that I was just the Dream Team’s shadow, that I would never stand out, that I was just the Weaselette and that was it…well, you can imagine that I instantly felt that familiar tug to prove him wrong. It’s not that his words really cut or anything. I know that I’m my own person. It’s just that thing I mentioned earlier.

The fact that it was Malfoy didn’t help matters. He says anything and I immediately want to contradict it. Honestly. Some might say that’s being conflict prone…maybe, but it’s only with him, so I don’t worry too much. I bet he could say that Harry is one fine fellow, and I’d start screaming that he’s really quite the jerk, if you think about it. It’s pretty sad actually.

So anyway, back to lunch. He and Ron were having a screaming match – or rather Ron was screaming and Malfoy was drawling – while I was attempting to get some homework done. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, and told Malfoy in no uncertain terms where he could shove it. Ron was actually being more annoying than him, but I couldn’t very well scream at my brother and make it look like I was siding with Malfoy, and besides, Malfoy was the source of Ron’s anger and therefore annoying behavior.

So that’s when Malfoy said that stuff. And naturally I had to prove him wrong. Like really badly. It’s just this urge. Now the only question was how? How to prove the Amazing Bouncing Ferret terribly, terribly wrong? Well…do something unexpected, something that makes me stand out from the Trio’s shadow. So…what was something no one would expect…?

Here is where my having gone insane comes into play. You see, tonight was Halloween…and I decided to go trick-or-treating in the Slytherin Common Room. I knew where it was (Fred and George do have their uses), and I also knew which dorm would be Malfoy’s. The git has a private dorm. Can you believe that? Daddy’s pockets are so deep he managed to get the bloody prat his own private room. Ridiculous, if you ask me…but I suppose it made this whole “prove Malfoy wrong” scheme a lot easier.

I waited until about eight o’clock and dressed up as a devil…you know, match the red hair and get out of the “angel” image being associated with the Dream Team sticks with you. So, please, take a moment to grasp this image: here I was, little Ginny Weasley, walking through the dungeons in a red mini-skirt and matching red tank top, horns on my head…and a bag in my hand (for the candy, of course).

And before I knew it, I was at his door, and surprisingly, I was more impatient than nervous. I couldn’t wait to see the infamous Draco Malfoy’s reaction to this. I knocked. And he opened the door.

Words cannot describe the look of pure shock that registered on his normally carefully controlled features…and nothing can describe how hard it was for me to contain my giggles at this point. Somehow managing, I kept a very straight face and held out my bag to him, saying, “Trick or treat.”

He blinked – once, twice, three times. “What?”

I rolled my eyes as if he was being very silly. “I said, trick or treat.”

“Weaselette?”

No, it’s Neville Longbottom.

“Listen, are you going to give me candy or what?” I snapped at him in mock frustration.  Oh gosh this was just too good. I don’t care if I had gone crazy, it was worth it for the look on his face.

“What are you dressed at?” he asked instead, stormy gray eyes traveling over my “costume.”

"I’m a devil!” I declared in my most chipper voice, tugging at my horns as if to say ‘see? It’s true!’

He blinked again…then proceeded to pinch the hell out of his arm.

“What are you doing?” I asked, really quite curious.

“Trying to wake myself up,” he muttered absently, really pinching hard now.

I giggled. “You’re going to bruise, and it’s going to be really obvious on that pale skin of yours. And you’re not dreaming.”

“I know I’m not dreaming. This is a nightmare,” he snarled. “How else do you explain this?”

“If you’re dreaming, and I’m a figment of your twisted imagination, then why are you talking to me? Talking to things that aren’t there isn’t good for your health.”

“Shut up,” he muttered. He was now gazing at his very red arm in disbelief.

I started tapping my foot. “Hey Ferret.” He looked up, actually not responding to the name I just called him. “Did you not hear me say trick or treat earlier?”

He stared at me for a minute, pinched his arm one last time, shook his head, then walked into his room…slamming the door right in my face I might add. Well…that wouldn’t do at all. I knocked again, and when he didn’t answer, I just started knocking non-stop, alternating hands when I got tired. After what seemed like forever, he whipped open the door. At this point I had been leaning on it for support and went sprawling into his room.

“Could give a girl some bloody warning,” I complained, hastily yanking down my skirt to cover my momentarily revealed knickers.

Then Malfoy did something that made me think maybe he went insane too. He hauled me up, pushed me against the door, then proceeded to pat me all down my body.

“Umm…Malfoy, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” I probably could have managed to sound more indignant if I wasn’t thinking that it really didn’t feel so bad to have his hands all over me…WHOA stop right there. Okay, I really did go insane. This is just proof. It is now official.

“Checking to see what they bugged you with,” he explained, half to himself.

“Bugged?” What in Merlin’s bloody name did that mean?

He sighed. “You know, it’s what Muggles do to record conversations and things. You’re friends with the Mudblood -- she’s got to know about these things.”

Well, now that he mentioned it, I did remember Hermione mentioning something about that. “How do you know about that?”

“Know your enemy,” he said simply, waving one hand in the air dismissively. After he’d properly felt me up, he growled a little and waved his wand over me…I think he was checking for some kind of spying spells or something. What a paranoid freak. Though…I guess I can’t really blame him. If he showed up at my door in a devil outfit…well…I’d be a little suspicious too, I suppose.

“Alright, what’s this really about Weasley?” he snapped. I noticed he was actually being a bit more bearable than usual…must have still been in shock. Or thought he was still asleep. Or both.

“I JUST WANT SOME BLOODY CANDY!” I shouted, stamping my foot for effect.

He ran his hands over his face and started mumbling to himself…I couldn’t make it all out, but I distinctly heard the words “Weaselette” and “bloody Potter” and “nightmare”…and several other words not appropriate to mention.

“You know, they say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. Plus, you’re letting down quite a bit of your guard, don’t you think? Not very becoming of you, Malfoy.”

His hands dropped and he glared at me for a minute before spinning away and stalking over to his dresser. I honestly didn’t have a clue what he was doing, but when he came back, he was shoving several chocolate frogs into my bag.

“There. Go.”

Now it was my turn to blink. “What?”

“I gave you your frigging candy, so go,” he gritted out.

Well now what? He was right: I did indeed have my candy. Chocolate even…none of that cheap fruity stuff. I should have been satisfied that I’d sufficiently shocked him. But I wasn’t, oddly enough.

“You didn’t say anything about my costume,” I pouted a little, pulling at my bright red shirt.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me! Would you just LEAVE already so I can WAKE UP?”

Ah, so he did still think he was dreaming. “You just felt me up by your door…couldn’t you tell that was a bit too real to be a dream?”

“I did not feel you up. I conducted a search,” he amended heatedly. “And I really wasn’t paying attention to how you bloody felt, real or otherwise.”

“Really? Huh. I thought it was like programmed into the male brain to be in a constant state of semi-arousal,” I mused thoughtfully.

The look he gave me was one of pure incredulity. “Please tell me you did not just say that.”

Ha ha, that surprised him. I was really rather enjoying this game of shocking the sarcasm out of him. “Isn’t it true?”

“Even if it was, that only applies when the other person is a female.”

“And just what do you think I am? A bloody Hippogriff?”

“You are a Weasel,” he returned coolly.

“No, I’m a Weaselette…that means female,” I reminded him.

“Get out, get out, GET OUT!” he roared.

Oh wow. I’ve never seen Draco so…not in control. It was kind of attractive, the way his eyes were almost on fire like that. But I did have a feeling I was pushing it…so I just decided to shock him one last time. And I knew exactly how to do it.

I dropped my candy, walked right up to him, wrapped one arm around his neck, tangled the other hand in his hair, and promptly pulled him down for a kiss.

He just stood there, not reacting, but not pulling away either. I brushed my tongue across his lips, felt him open automatically, and swept my tongue through his mouth quickly before I pulled back.

“Am I still just a shadow? Do I stand out now?” I whispered very huskily, my lips brushing his occasionally.

He just swallowed very hard. I laughed and pulled him in for one last chaste kiss before grabbing up my chocolate and skipping out of the room. Just before I disappeared through the exit, I called, “Thanks for the candy Malfoy! Happy Halloween!”