“… and she turned me down,” finished Colin in an exasperated tone. “Can you believe that? After making twenty pictures - mind you, these buggers are expensive -”

“Slut.”

The word was spoken condescendingly, a sneer curling her mouth as she glared over at the pair of Sixth Years. She felt a pit in the bottom of her stomach, a growing ball of jealousy and rage.

“Hey, you watch your mouth you--” began Colin angrily.

Ginny put a hand out to stop Colin, her eyes narrowing as she met Pansy Parkinson’s cruel gaze. “I’ll talk to you later, okay Colin?”

“What? But - Ginny, come on,” said Colin, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going to--”

“Leave the whore to me, Creevey,” hissed Pansy, taking a step forward menacingly.

“I’ve got this, Colin,” said Ginny quietly, meeting his concerned gaze. “Go on to dinner.”

“Ginny, this is stupid --” protested Colin before she laid a gentle hand on his arm, her expression serious. He sighed. “All right, but I don’t like this.” He scowled as he looked over at Pansy. “If you take more than twenty minutes, I’m coming back with a teacher.”

Ginny smiled gratefully. “See you.”

Pansy barely waited until he was out of earshot before stalking over to Ginny. “You think you can steal my boyfriend, you tramp?” she spat, leaning over Ginny, her dark eyes flashing. “Why would someone of Draco’s background stoop down to someone of your wealth?” she leered.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a good question, Parkinson. Why would he?”

“He’s using you,” she said spitefully. “All you are is another shag to him. What else would a no-good, blood traitor like you be used for?”

Ginny raised an eyebrow at Pansy. “Is that it then? You must not be very good if he has to stoop to someone of my stature,” she sneered.

“I - I,” said Pansy, flustered. She gained control again and glared at Ginny. “I’m sure you’ve had so much practice, being the little slut you are.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you original. What are you going to do next, accuse me of having--”

Her head jerked to the side, a furious red hand print forming instantly on the side of her pale face. They stood like that for a moment, Pansy breathing heavily, her hand still raised, Ginny motionless, her dark red hair covering half of her face.

“That’ll teach you not to talk back to me, you little--” began Pansy in a snarl, before a cold, steel voice interrupted her.

“Get away from her,” said Draco in a low voice, moving forward lithely, a dangerous expression on his face. He stepped in front of Ginny smoothly, towering over Pansy.

“Oh, Draco, hello!” said Pansy, transforming instantly, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked up at Draco with a sickening innocent look on her face. “I was just taking care of a little unfinished business, but if you want to go on to dinner, I’ll deal with it later.”

Ginny felt her stomach twist, a dark feeling bubbling up inside of her. Unfinished business?

“Get away from me, Parkinson,” spat Draco, his eyes hardening into gray steel, glinting furiously. “I don’t want to see your hideous face around Weasley ever again, you understand me?”

She flinched, taking a step back, and her eyes sought out Ginny’s, shock and outrage filling them. “How can you defend her? That slut! How could you possibly--”

“That is my business, and I will not explain my reasons,” he growled, sliding his wand out of his sleeve threateningly.

“You will regret this, Draco Malfoy,” spat Pansy, her face twisting into a nasty, hateful expression.

“You’re going to regret it if you don’t leave right now,” Draco snarled.

Ginny backed up, her heart beating erratically. Draco angry was ten times scarier than anything Pansy could threaten, and right now, he was practically steaming he was so mad.

Pansy opened her mouth to retort, but, seeing his face, rethought it, giving them both one last dark look before turning on her heel, her dark hair flying out behind her as she stomped down the hall.

There was a moment of silent as Ginny stared at Draco’s back, waiting. Finally he sighed, turning around, a resigned expression on his face. “I didn’t need you to save me,” she finally said, breaking the heavy silence.

“I wasn’t saving you,” said Draco, rolling his eyes. “I was saving my reputation.”

She smirked, knowing he didn’t believe that. “Oh?” she asked, taking a step towards him, her eyebrows raised. “Because I’m pretty sure defending a Weasley isn’t going to do you much good.”

“Ginny,” he sighed, looking away from her.

She grinned, sensing defeat. “And now look. Calling a Weasley by their first name? For shame.”

He looked back down at her, his lips in a thin, set line. “Are you done?”

She laughed, moving close to him, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. “Malfoy--”

He frowned.

“-- Draco,” she corrected, grinning up at him. She hesitated, and a frown tugged at her lips. “Why did you do that? Why do you keep talking to me as if - as if I’m an actual human being?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to go back to treating you like dirt on the bottom of my shoe?”

She sighed. “No. I just - what changed? When did you start - start - well, you know,” she finished lamely.

He pursed his lips for a moment, considering. “Remember that time in the library, when you tripped and fell on top of me?”

She grinned. “Yeah. And you stared at me, and then asked me one thing.”

“I asked you,” said Draco, a soft expression on his face as he stared down at her, “’What gives you any right to knock me over like that?’”

“And I told you to stuff it,” recalled Ginny, grinning fondly at the memory. She shook her head, returning back to the moment. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

He smiled down at her. A genuine smile, not a sneer, not a smirk; a truly happy smile, one that Ginny would eventually come to refer to as hers. “Because that’s when I realized that you weren’t just another red-haired, fiery-tempered Weasley.”

She looked confused. “But I am just another red-haired, fiery-tempered Weasley.”

He laughed. “No; you’re my red-haired, fiery-tempered Weasley.”

And that’s when he bent down and kissed her, his hand moving to hold her head in place, his other hand snaking down to her waist and pulling her flush against his body. “And that’s what makes you special,” he whispered.