Author's Note: For Emilia and Irina

The Vexing Hex

The more he saw her, the more he felt compelled to say something, anything, to get her attention. Draco wasn't used to feeling that way about anyone, not even Pansy, his supposed girlfriend.

He turned the corner and paused before continuing down the corridor. That flash of red up ahead wasn't going to affect him. There were bigger things to worry about, like the fact that his father was on the run after his breakout from Azkaban. Giggling girls whipping their hair around so that boys noticed them were a waste of time. Besides, he and Pansy had a date next weekend in Hogsmeade and he'd never hear the end of it if he were seen consorting with a Weasley.

As he drew nearer, his pulse started to race and his mouth went dry. From the corner of his eye, he could see her watching him, her chin raised slightly. Not able to resist, he stopped.

"You won't be looking so smug, Weasley, when we flatten you in the match tomorrow. Pottyhead won't be able to save you this time," Draco sneered, doing his best to avoid looking directly at her.

Ginny exchanged a look with Luna Lovegood, the girl with whom she'd been giggling.

"Still sore about the bat-bogey hex?" Luna asked. "That was almost two years ago."

"What are you on about, Looney?" Draco asked, scowling at her.

"I can give you a refresher if you're interested in seeing more bogies," Ginny said, taking out her wand. Draco eyed it warily.

"Like I said, Ginny. I bet he's related to Max Topplefield, the infamous grave robber. Just look at his eyes," Luna said, gazing at Draco as if he were a statue and not a living person. Ginny giggled again. "I'll see you later, Ginny," Luna added. "Lots to do." She waved and then left, mumbling to herself.

As he watched Luna walk away, Draco felt a strange sinking feeling in his stomach. Ginny was watching him again and he was beginning to feel exposed standing there in that nearly empty hallway, alone with her.

"What's it going to be, Malfoy?" Ginny said, her wand still out. "Are you dishing out threats, insults, or just malicious glances this time? I haven't seen a boy work so hard for my attention since - "

"I'm not trying to get your attention, Weasley," Draco interrupted. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Believe me, I wouldn't define any attention from you as flattery," Ginny fired back.

"The kind of flattery you're looking for is the kind I'll never hand out to the likes of you," Draco said, turning and starting to walk away. He always liked having the last word; it gave him a sense of power, of control.

"You're just scared," Ginny said to his retreating back. "What a coward! Ron and Harry are right about you."

Draco froze in his tracks. His face was hot and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. "No one calls me a coward and gets away with it," he said, turning to face her and taking out his wand.

"I think I just did," Ginny said. She laughed and flipped her hair in that special way that distracted him. "Look, Malfoy, what is it that you want?"

Draco stood there, torn between hexing her, walking away, or attempting to answer the question. Very few had ever asked him what he wanted because he had always communicated his wants clearly and immediately. The problem he was facing is that he had no idea what he wanted from Ginny. But it had to be something. Why else would he feel compelled to interact with her as much as appearances would allow?

"You're a…" he started to say, but he found the words stuck in his throat. She narrowed her eyes and leaned casually against the wall, waiting.

He attempted again to say something that would make her have no doubt that he hated her, but all he could manage were some noises that sounded a lot like Troll. Before he could stop himself, his eyes were traveling over her, taking in her tall, curvy figure, the small amount of creamy white skin exposed at her neckline, and that blasted hair that seemed to have been enchanted to shine like a homing beacon every time she was around.

"Thanks for answering my question so – err – eloquently," Ginny said. She paused, looking to her right and left. Draco knew she was checking to make sure they were alone, and it surprised him. He was the one with a reputation to uphold.

"I can only think of one way to get past this," Ginny said.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Draco asked. She was eying him predatorily and it was making him nervous.

Ginny moved in closer. Draco's feet felt as if they were rooted to the ground. As if he hadn't asked a question, she continued. "I'm sick of wondering what this will be like, and I think you are too."

Then she did the last thing he expected. She kissed him.

Just as he was about to push her away, his brain shut down and his body took over. Apparently, he'd never properly kissed a girl before, because it had never felt quite this good. And it wasn't just how she felt – her soft, moist lips, her smooth skin – but it was everything about her that was overwhelming his senses in the best possible way. Before he could stop himself, he had drawn her in closer with his right hand on her hip. His left was in her hair, running through it slowly and savoring its silky texture. She started to pull away, but he drew her back, deepening the kiss and eliciting a sigh from her.

The kiss was ended by the sound of the bell indicating that classes were starting soon. They looked at each other for a moment, both red-faced and out of breath. Then they heard the first sounds of approaching students and stepped back to reestablish a proper distance.

"I'll see you around," Ginny said, her voice sounding faint due to the rushing sound in Draco's ears. She turned her back on him and started to walk away.

"Weasley – Ginny – wait!" Draco called after her.

She stopped but didn't turn around. He waded through the students that were now filling the hall to get to her.

"Same time, same place next week?" he whispered out of the corner of his mouth as they began to walk again. She smiled without looking at him but nodded.

The more he saw her, the more he felt compelled to see her more often, several times a day if possible, to keep her attention. Draco hadn't ever felt that way about anyone. But he was getting used to it.