Wizard, Sorcerer…or Skill Monkey?

“I’m telling you, a Wizard is much better than a Sorcerer.” A male voice drifted out into the third floor corridor from behind a slightly ajar door to the Gobstones Club.

“And I’m telling you, that a Sorcerer is better than a Wizard. Not to mention that it’s a much better class when actually role-playing, in a skill session and in combat.” A female’s voice joined the male in a clearly agitated tone.

“So play a skill monkey like a Rogue or Bard!” The male’s voice took on a more frustrated manner.

“I don’t want to! I want to play an arcane magic user, and a Sorcerer is clearly the better all round choice,” came the retort. “They take less time to prepare, they don’t have to spend an age memorising spells before they can actually cast them -”

“Can we just stat and get on with it? Please?” Another voice interrupted, with a slight drawl to it.

“I’m sure there are wrackspurts in here or you wouldn’t be acting this way.” A fourth, dreamy voice joined the fray.

“Luna, I thought you said a wrackspurt makes your brain go fuzzy, and I can assure you my brain is perfectly clear. I just don’t appreciate another player picking at my choice of character class.” The first female’s voice sounded again.

“You’re playing an elf. An elf’s favoured class is a Wizard.” The male’s voice rose to shouting level.

“That does not mean I have to play it!” A chair being scraped back and knocked over, accompanied by palms slamming on a desktop issued loudly.

Silence followed for some painful seconds and then a quiet male voice said, “Ginny, please, sit down. You can play a Sorcerer and an elf. I have no problem with that. Ernie, you can’t force the other players to play a class to just because you want them to or because it’s in the Player's Handbook as their chosen race’s favoured class. No, no arguing, as Dungeon Master, that is my ruling. Now, everyone can you stat up. This is a tenth level adventure, so fill in your character sheets appropriately. Can everyone see a Player's Handbook? Good. Okay, go. I’m going to the kitchen for snacks. Dungeons and Dragons just isn’t right without the correct rations for a dungeon crawl.”

The door opened fully and Colin Creevey strode out. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “Thank goodness I don’t allow my players to be PvP enabled.” With that utterance, he shuffled off to go to the kitchen.

Behind his retreating back, shouts were already issuing from the Gobstones Club room. The noise was so loud that it attracted the attention of a patrolling prefect.

That prefect happened to be none other than Draco Malfoy.

Draco did not like prefect duty that much, especially in the area where societies met. They were always so messy, and you never knew what you were going to find. Some societies had a nasty habit of leaving things behind that had nasty side effects, such as the newly formed Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes Appreciation Society. He shuddered to think of the chaos that had ensued at Pansy Parkinson’s expense when she had happened upon a secret meeting of theirs on patrol and threatened to report them. He was only doing prefect duty this evening as a favour to Blaise Zabini, as he claimed to have a ‘hot date’ or something along those lines. Draco didn’t care to think about what Blaise did in his spare time with girls…or boys in one or two instances for that matter, as the fellow Slytherin boy had somewhat of a reputation for forwardness on his dates. So he’d taken over the boy’s prefect duty tonight in return for being spared from any details, and some peace and quiet for a week. Draco had considered pressing for some extras, like private time alone in the two boys’ private dorm room, but had second thoughts as that would mean having to be forthcoming with the reason for doing so, and Draco didn’t want to have to endure Blaise’s comments on his private relationship. Not that Blaise didn’t approve of Draco’s girlfriend; but he did have a tendency to make the odd lewd comment about the lady in question or hint at things about her, like her temper.

Thinking on that temper now, Draco was brought back to the present and started towards the door, intending to give whoever was in the room a sound telling off with a detention or two, and a deduction of house points thrown in for good measure, for potential misuse of school property, disorderliness and disruption. Suddenly a loud BANG! issued from the room and Draco quickly sprang into action.

He pushed the door ajar to see Ginny Weasley leaning over a table, brandishing a quill at a red-faced Ernie Macmillan. Around the table sat, Luna Lovegood, Terry Boot, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Blaise Zabini, all cradling their heads or covering their ears in some way. The table itself was covered in parchment sheets with tables and tick boxes with words like ‘climb’ and ‘bluff’ next to them and a section with something called ‘health points’, dexterity, charisma, wisdom, strength, intelligence and constitution. Other things catching his notice were square-by-square cardboard shapes making some kind of room-plan, little figures holding little swords or bows, and a range of monster figurines. Draco took in the scene before him and focused on his fellow Slytherin housemate.

“Blaise, a word?” Draco raised an eyebrow at him. Blaise reluctantly rose from his seat and drifted over to the doorway. The shouting exchange between Ernie and Ginny continued without missing a beat, or even acknowledging a new presence in the room.

“Blaise, can you explain to me, what on earth is happening in here?”

“Well, Draco, you see we’re playing a role playing game,” Blaise said slowly.

“All of you?” Draco looked incredulous. “Isn't that a little polygamous and public? And with -”

“Not that kind of role playing game! I’ll leave that to those who have no spark left in their bedroom repertoire,” said Blaise, snottily.

“Then what in Merlin’s name is going on here? I thought you said you had some sort of ‘hot date’? This does not look like a hot date to me.” Draco looked highly un-amused. "Why does Macmillan resemble a tomato and why is my girlfriend brandishing a quill, like a weapon, at him?”

“We’re playing a Muggle game called Dungeons and Dragons. Ginny wanted to play a certain character class and Macmillan apparently is such a geek and by-the-book kind of guy that he has a problem with that.” Blaise tried to explain quickly as possible, but at the word ‘Muggle’ Draco’s face started to turn a pinker hue from the alabaster shade it normally was.

Draco stalked back into the room and gave Ginny Weasley a smouldering look that screamed ‘you’re in trouble, missy’. Not that Draco would ever call anyone ‘missy’.

“Ginevra.”

That single mention of her name, from that person’s voice made Ginny freeze mid quill jab and slowly face the door.

“Dr-Draco. Uh…this...um…isn’t what you think?” she tried.

“You felt it necessary to keep this little game a secret from me, why?” The cool tone of his voice made her gulp. “And how long has this been going on?”

“Well…as we’re now onto a tenth level campaign, quite a few months,” said Blaise cheerfully at Draco’s elbow. Draco turned his head slowly to look at his best friend and gave him a withering look.

“I was asking my girlfriend, Zabini, and I don’t think you quite qualify for that job.”

“Until you see sense and come over to bat for the other side like me, I live in hope.” Blaise grinned and sauntered back to his seat.

“Ginevra. A word. In private. Now,” Draco said and stalked out the room. Ginny tiptoed after him. Once down the corridor and out of earshot, he rounded on her. “Why did you feel you needed to conceal from me that you were partaking in that…that…thing?”

“Um…well…I didn’t think you’d approve. Seeing how it’s a Muggle game and typically a male dominated one at that…”

“Yes, I noticed.” Draco interrupted coldly.

“I’m…sorry?” Ginny said tentatively, and then frowned. “Why should you have a problem with me doing this anyway? It’s just a game. And it makes me happy. So why should there be an issue?”

“Because…because it’s Muggle.” Draco couldn’t keep the sneer out of his voice.

“So? It’s a lot of fun. Even screaming at Macmillan has an element of fun. It’s something to get passionate about. I’m not convinced that you get passionate about anything. Not even us,” Ginny said, the last bit albeit sadly.

“Hey!” Draco retorted. He placed one hand on his hip, tossed his head and grabbed her wrist. “I went public with you, faced my family’s disdain and my House’s jokes of potential pink-haired babies. I’m passionate about us.”

“Oh, yes? Prove it, right now. Take an interest in what I enjoy doing.” Ginny flounced back to the Gobstones Room. Draco looked stunned and if Malfoys gawked with their mouths wide open in disbelief, then he would have done so. But Malfoys are never caught out being so simple or graceless. Draco mentally shook himself after a moment and started after her, hesitantly entering the room once again.

He found Ginny throwing a twenty-sided die, followed by a number of four-sided dice and reeling off a list of actions to Colin Creevey, who had re-entered the room with snacks at some point mid-argument and was noting down what she said behind a small screen of folders. Creevey reached over the screen and removed a figurine from the cardboard room-plan.

Draco hovered by the door for some time, whilst Ginny ignored him. The other ‘players’ in the room took her lead. Only Blaise gave him a glance every now and then, finally holding out a large, chunky book with ‘The Player's Handbook’ written on the cover.

Draco settled down, perching on the edge of a desk and flipped through the entire book, cover to cover. By the end of the session, when the players were packing up, Draco was on the last few pages and looking over the character sheet for the edition the players were playing. He jerked suddenly, when he felt a cool hand touched his. Draco looked up to see Ginny standing in front of him.

“We can go now,” she said softly. She led him out the room, along to the private room he shared with Blaise, with Draco still scanning the pages of the handbook. Somehow, he managed to avoid every trick step, and not fumble at any point with the clumsiness others may have displayed, with his nose still in the Player's Handbook. He was a Malfoy after all.

Once they entered the room, Ginny stepped up to be toe-to-toe with Draco and removed the book from his hands. Draco blinked several times, and refocused his eyes from several hours of intense reading to focus on his girlfriend.

“So…what was the argument originally about?” he said in a slightly dazed voice.

“That it would be more advisable to play a Wizard when playing an elf as your race class, than playing a Sorcerer like I wanted to, and did.”

“Oh,” was Draco’s only response.

“Um…earth to Draco?” Ginny snapped her fingers in front of his face in an attempt to return her boyfriend to normal. With a sigh, she planted her lips on his to remedy the situation.

True to form, Draco quickly took control and manoeuvred them over to the sofa in front of the fire. Suddenly he pulled back and looked down into Ginny’s eyes.

“You were right by the way. A Sorcerer is more suitable than a Wizard in the 3.5 edition due to the skill points modifiers on the character sheet in practice. As it is, I’d pick a skill monkey like a Rogue or Bard. Could have much more fun role-playing…” Draco mused.

“Rogue or Bard? You?” Ginny chortled.

“Why, yes. Bard, in particular. Twenty ranks in persuasion, I could seduce even you with any roll of the die…” Draco lowered his head to her neck and nibbled at the pulse point there in the way he knew would elicit that breathy sigh he adored, “and then charm you...” His head dipped lower to trail down the path from her neck, to her collar bone and into the valley between her breasts, which was just accessible as the top few buttons of her school shirt had been left undone.

“Draco…not that I’m complaining, but are you trying talk dirty with Dungeons and Dragons?” Ginny peered down at her boyfriend.

“No, Ginevra, I am seducing you. That was a very long book. It has affected my brain somehow, I’m sure. Or it must be a side effect of being around you.” Draco raised an eyebrow at her. Ginny rolled her eyes and cuffed Draco over the head.

“Well, I’m sure you’d make a great skill monkey. But leave the tying up or locking up of wenches – and only the wench you’re on the sofa with this minute, mind you - in this room,” Ginny smirked at Draco, “and if you ever decide, by some stroke of insanity that I know is just brimming below the surface with you inbred Slytherins, to join us in a game, keep the twenty ranks of persuasion until needed to save the team’s arse. Now come back down here and show the Sorcerer what a great skill monkey you are…”

An hour or so later, a cheery Blaise waltzed back into the room, throwing and catching a bag of dice. Pausing, he glanced over to the fire. Draco sat there with a sleeping Ginny Weasley sprawled across his lap. Her hair glinted in the firelight, making it look akin to the fire it seemed to reflect.

“So,” said Blaise, a slight smirk adorning his features.

“So?” Draco returned, coolly. “You owe me a night’s prefect duty, Blaise.”

“Alright, mate, alright.” Blaise acknowledged. “So, are you going to join us for a game at some point? We’re missing a skill monkey in the party.”

“I may drop in,” drawled Draco, nonchalantly. “Ginevra thinks I’d make an excellent Bard. Twenty ranks of persuasion…”

“Pft,” said Blaise. “You’re no Bard. You can’t hold a tune to save your life. I’ve heard you in the shower. You’re a Rogue, mate. It’s what we Slytherins are. Sneaky, cunning buggers and we get everywhere.” Blaise wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yes, yes.” Draco waved a dismissive hand. “Now run along, Blaise, and leave me with my fiery Sorceress.”