A/N: As much as I may wish to, I don't own these characters, but more importantly, I also don't own the description of the Daydream Charm. For that, see HBP, page 117. The phrase "porcelain-skinned pirate" is, sadly, all mine.
Chapter 2 – Malfoy Madness
What in the weeks to come Ginny referred to only as “Malfoy Madness Day” (with an accompanying shudder) started out innocently enough. At breakfast, one of the school owls dropped a small package off for Hermione, who after briefly glancing at the return label, stowed it furtively in her bag.
“Wha— ” began Ron, newly returned from the hospital wing and once again on speaking terms with Hermione.
“Nothing,” Hermione replied preemptively, giving him a fierce glare. He wisely decided not to push it.
As everyone began filing their way out of the Great Hall toward the first class of the day, Hermione hurried to catch up with Ginny and Dean Thomas.
“Er, I have a . . . um . . . present for you,” she said in a subdued voice to Ginny.
“Oh!” replied Ginny brightly. “Right! Dean, I’ll see you at lunch,” she said, waving him on. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and left. Hermione looked around to make sure they weren’t being observed before pulling the package out of her bag and handing it to Ginny.
“Hermione, thank you so much for ordering this for me. I can only imagine what my brothers might have done if they’d known who it was for. Might’ve refused to let me buy one, knowing them!”
Hermione laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she said. “But seriously, Ginny, be careful using it – it’s detention for sure if you get caught.”
“I will, I will,” Ginny replied.
“And . . . uh . . . let me know how it goes,” Hermione continued, a little sheepishly. “I’ve been too nervous to try mine.”
“Well,” Ginny replied, a saucy smile on her face, “I’ll give you a general idea, but I’m certainly not going to divulge the details!” Both girls giggled and parted ways.
Ginny unwrapped her package carefully during Charms. A small box labeled “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ Patented Daydream Charm ~ 30 minutes of Naughty Fun!” stared back at her temptingly. Under the label was a picture of a dashing pirate clutching a buxom woman to his side. In smaller print, the left corner of the box read “Not for under sixteens.” Ginny smiled to herself. Between the stress of studying for O.W.L.s and the constant bickering she and Dean seemed to be doing lately, she could certainly use a bit of a getaway.
And I know just who would make a perfect pirate, she thought, and then had to refrain from laughing out loud at the image of Harry’s glasses contrasting with the rest of the usual pirate get-up.
In class before lunch, as Professor Binns droned on to the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws sitting around him about the Goblin Rebellion of 1612, Ginny felt herself getting very sleepy and decided the time was right for a juicy daydream.
It was bad enough listening to Ron, Harry, and Hermione complain about this class last year, she thought. Now I have to suffer through it, too.
The clock indicated that there was just a little over a half hour until lunch. Cautiously, Ginny opened the Daydream box in her bag and extracted the piece of candy from within it. The glittery pink gumdrop she held was wrapped in a thin sheet of tissue paper on which were written the instructions: “Place in corner of mouth. As candy dissolves, so will you!” Ginny eyed the gumdrop skeptically, trying to decide whether or not the directions sounded just a bit ominous.
“Um, Luna,” she said quietly to Luna Lovegood, who, seated beside her, was absently chewing on the nub of her quill, “Will you just nudge me a bit if I start to . . . um . . . drool?”
“Sure,” replied Luna dreamily, as if there was nothing unusual in the request.
Okay, then, here goes nothing, Ginny thought, placing the gumdrop, squirrel-like, into her cheek.
As soon as the sugary taste of the gumdrop hit her tongue, the room faded away and Ginny found herself suddenly standing on the deck of a ship, the sun beating down on her and salt breezes stirring through her wavy red hair. Three things struck her at once: one, that she was experiencing the scene from two distinct points of view – a first-person who knew exactly what she was doing there, a captive of the dreadful, but very sexy, Captain Codra, and an omniscient persona who was watching the action as if it were a play; two, that a great deal of swordfighting was going on all around her; and three, that she was not so much standing on the deck of a ship as she was tied very firmly to one of the ship’s masts.
A fourth thought struck her as she glanced down at her scanty attire. Whoa, I’m more – voluptuous – than I remember being.
Ginny watched as the fighting raged on. One figure stood out from all the rest – a tall man dressed from head to foot in black. His back was to her as he fought valiantly against three assailants at once, and Ginny took the time to contemplate his very handsome form. His leather boots terminated near his knees and his tight – very tight – black pants were tucked into them. Ginny could see clearly the sinews of his long, muscular legs as her eyes traveled up them.
Nice, she thought, taking in the view.
The man wore a billowy black shirt, which Ginny just knew she would find very open at the chest when he turned around, in true, clichéd pirate fashion. He had a black scarf tied around his head, obscuring Ginny’s view of his hair. Bet it’s dark brown, Ginny thought with a smile. The man had managed to disable two of his opponents before the third turned and ran, and Ginny lost sight of him as he gave pursuit.
Slowly the fighting around her died down. Clearly, one side had won the day. Ginny began to get impatient as she waited for someone to notice her.
Surely I’m not just going to stand here tied up for the next 30 minutes? What kind of fantasy is that?
A voice suddenly spoke into her ear from behind her. “Miss me?” she heard in a soft whisper. Ginny’s body tensed as she felt hot breath on her neck and the faintest touch of lips against her earlobe.
“So sorry I had to chase your hero away. Looks like you won’t be being rescued after all,” the voice drawled with a low chuckle.
“I’ll never be yours, Captain Codra!” first-person Ginny said defiantly, as omniscient Ginny thought, Hmmm, Harry with a dark side. How fun.
“Oh, no?” Captain Codra replied more loudly, with a sneer in his voice. A hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, scraping the right side of it against the mast. “I beg to differ,” he snarled and leaned in to kiss her, hard, his lips pressed against hers so firmly that she tasted blood. First-person Ginny struggled half-heartedly against him as his tongue found its way between her clenched teeth, while omniscient Ginny found herself growing just a tad hot under the collar.
Dean’s never kissed me like that, she thought.
Just as suddenly as he had kissed her, Captain Codra pulled away and let loose his grasp on her hair. Still standing over her shoulder, he laughed mirthlessly, “Liked that didn’t you? I thought you would.”
Ginny spat on the deck in reply, her scraped cheek feeling hot and her head aching slightly.
“You’re a monster!” she hissed.
“Come now, Lady Ginevra,” replied Codra, his voice once again seductively sweet, “It wasn’t that bad. Not yet, anyway.”
Slowly he strode around to face her. At this moment, like a needle screeching across a record player, all of the fun for omniscient Ginny ground to an abrupt halt. Facing her was not a more forceful, slightly out-of-character bad boy Harry Potter, but a very in-character, perhaps even milder than usual bad boy Draco Malfoy.
Draco “Captain Codra” Malfoy stood inches from Ginny’s face, his features coldly expressionless except for a slight smirk at the corners of his mouth, his steel grey eyes locked onto her own. And as omniscient Ginny spluttered and gagged incoherently in her own head, Draco grasped first-person Ginny’s chin firmly and then leaned in again, first merely brushing his lips against hers, and then kissing her softly.
So soft, thought Ginny, temporarily distracted from the mental fit she was throwing.
Draco’s lips lingered on hers for a moment, and then he pulled away, his eyes still focused on hers. Ginny found herself unable to look away, trembling slightly as she felt his warm breath on her face, the heat radiating from his body. As if reading some request in her eyes, Draco bent and kissed her again, more urgently this time, and Ginny, unable to resist any longer, let out a small groan and began to kiss him back, her urgency matching his as she felt waves of intense heat pouring over her body. Draco released her chin and she felt his hands on her, slowly tracing their way up her ribs, his thumbs barely brushing against the undersides of her slightly enhanced breasts. And then, agonizingly, he was pulling away from her again.
“Was that more your style, my Lady?” he asked, quietly, without the trace of a sneer on his face. Ginny breathed heavily, her head spinning, unable to reply. Draco leaned into her once more, and reaching behind her cut her free, releasing her arms to her sides.
“I think I’ll have to stow you someplace – a bit quieter,” said the porcelain-skinned pirate, seizing Ginny’s wrist and dragging her, completely unresisting, away toward his cabin. Just as ravishment seemed imminent, the scene faded mistily around Ginny and she heard the voices of Fred and George.
“We hope you’ve had a lovely time in your Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ Patented Daydream!”
“For an even longer – adventure – try our new Afternoon Delights, Patent Pending!
“A guaranteed ninety minutes of fun!”
“Only one galleon each!”
Ginny found herself once again in class and sputtered, loudly, drawing a few stares from the people sitting around her. Professor Binns didn’t seem to notice.
“For next class, ten inches on the causes of the Third Goblin Rebellion, with particular emphasis on the role played by the state of drinking water in the Carpathian Mountains.”
“I didn’t see you drooling,” Luna said as everyone was packing up, “but you did have a funny twitch above your right eye. You might want to have a lie down – Dad says that there have been outbreaks of Wumbitty Warples in the area recently.”
“Thanks, Luna,” Ginny replied, not really paying attention as she quickly packed up her bag and rushed from the classroom.
Ugh, I need to rinse my mouth out! she thought as she ran for the nearest bathroom.
Entering it still completely immersed in the idea that she just had a sexual fantasy about Draco Malfoy, she came to a halt as she realized the bathroom was already occupied. Seated on one of the sinks, or rather hovering slightly above it, was Moaning Myrtle, deeply engrossed in conversation with none other than the original from Ginny’s daydream.
“I must be losing my mind,” Ginny murmured, staring in horror at the figure of Malfoy stooped over a sink, his elbows resting on either side of it and his face held in his hands. Neither Myrtle nor Malfoy had noticed Ginny enter.
“You can’t possibly understand!” Malfoy was saying impatiently, his voice catching a little. “There isn’t a right choice – nothing I can do!”
“There, there,” said Myrtle soothingly, and Ginny realized, awe-stricken, that Malfoy was actually crying. Slowly she began edging her way back, hoping with all her might that she could escape the bathroom without being seen. Luck was against her, however. Sniffing loudly, Draco raised his head and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Immediately he spun around.
“What are you doing here? Are you spying on me?” he demanded furiously.
“No, Draco – I didn’t know anyone was in here – I didn’t mean to overhear you!” Ginny replied, feeling sorry for Malfoy as she took in his grayish skin and puffy red eyes.
Draco’s face stiffened haughtily. “What did you overhear?” he asked, his voice coldly quiet.
“Not anything really . . . just something about choices. Draco, if you need someone to talk to . . .” Ginny mumbled, her voice trailing off as she realized what she was saying, and to whom.
Offended, Myrtle sniffed loudly and began, “He has someone to –” but Draco cut her off, his eyes narrowed on Ginny.
“As if I would talk to you, Weasley,” he sneered. “But you didn’t tell me why you’re here. This is the men’s room, after all. Oh,” he continued, laughing mockingly, “perhaps you haven’t learned to read yet?” His laughter suddenly turned to snarl. “And how dare you address me as an equal, you filthy blood traitor scum –”
Ginny interrupted him, enraged. “You’re right, Malfoy – you’re no equal of mine! An equal of mine would know that there is always a right choice! Maybe not an easy choice, but always a right one! They’re called morals, Malfoy! Or haven’t you learned those yet?” And without waiting for a reply, she stormed out of the bathroom.
Ginny glowered her way through lunch, snapping at Dean when he tried to kiss her and ignoring everyone else. The rest of her classes went by in a blur as she tried hard not to think about Malfoy, loathing him for making her feel both repulsed and attracted at the same time. He was such an arrogant bastard, she thought, but then she remembered how soft his lips had been as he kissed her . . . the sweetness of his breath . . . his body pressed against hers . . . .
Get a grip, Ginny! That wasn’t real!
By dinnertime, Ginny had a terrible headache and wanted nothing more than to escape into solitude. The Gryffindor common room was blissfully deserted, so she settled down in a squashy chair by the fire and rubbed her temples wearily.
“What was he crying about anyway?” she wondered aloud, her thoughts sliding hopelessly back to Malfoy. “That’s so typical. He’s all swagger and no substance. Nasty comments and bullying to hide the scared little boy inside.” And while part of her despised him, another felt as sorry for him as she had in the bathroom when she saw the tears glittering in his stormy gray eyes.
Just then, Hermione climbed through the portrait hole into the room.
“Hey, Ginny,” she said brightly, “Just grabbing my Potions book – thought I’d head over to the library to get in some extra –” She stopped abruptly, noticing the troubled expression on Ginny’s face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Something with Dean?”
“Nothing. I’m fine,” replied Ginny flatly.
“Oh . . . okay,” said Hermione, registering disbelief in her voice. “Hey, did you try the Daydream Charm?”
“I did.”
“And? How was it?”
Where to begin, Ginny thought glumly. Suddenly she brightened.
“Hermione, do you think it’s possible my brothers found out the charm was for me and somehow hexed it?”
“Why? Didn’t it reveal your deep, subconscious longings? Or” – Hermione paused and then smiled playfully – “are you feeling guilty because you fantasized about someone other than your boyfriend? Because really, Ginny, no one would be surprised, or blame you, if a certain favorite Boy Wonder of ours made his way into your, er, daydream.”
Ginny sighed, seeing the look of satisfaction on Hermione’s face. Clearly she thought she had hit the nail on the head. And Ginny certainly wished she was right.
“I’d be careful using the Daydream Charm if I were you – you might get surprised,” Ginny said finally.
Hermione laughed. “Yeah, I can just imagine it – waiting breathlessly to be ravaged by the masked pirate, only to see him disrobe and reveal himself to be . . . Snape!” She laughed again, a bit nervously this time, and grabbing her Potions book from an end table she hurried off to the library.
Ginny’s dreams that night were again disturbed by images of Draco Malfoy. First she dreamed of him in the Burrow with her, standing in the darkened kitchen, his lips seeking hers with a fierce intensity as she ran her fingers through his white-blonde hair and over his smooth, pale cheeks.
“Gin,” he murmered thickly, his lips grazing her cheek. “Oh, Ginny.” There was such longing in his voice that Ginny felt like her heart would burst. And then suddenly he was gone, and Ginny was standing in her kitchen alone, feeling miserably cold. The scene shifted once more, and this time Ginny was in a room she didn’t recognize, and Draco was with her. Now he was holding up a beautiful gold locket, gazing at her with incredible sorrow in his eyes, and repeating, “It’s for you, Gin. It’s all for you.” She woke up then, her heart beating rapidly.
I really must be hexed, she thought in alarm, trying to throw off the feeling of sadness she had woken up with.
“Draco’s more likely to become a pirate than ever step foot into my home,” she murmured, and then laughed quietly to herself.
Thoughts of Malfoy Madness Day had become fewer and farther between as Ginny and Dean broke up and Ginny began dating Harry. Ginny decided to chalk it up to a short burst of insanity.
But now, as she lay in the rough straw beside Malfoy, listening to his slow, steady breathing, she felt a strange attraction rising within her again. Without thinking, Ginny reached out and gently pushed a lock of his white-blonde hair out of his eyes, the soft skin of his forehead burning beneath her fingers. As if he had felt her touch, Malfoy stirred slightly in his sleep, and Ginny quickly snatched her hand away.
“Madness,” Ginny whispered a short time later, as she drifted into sleep.
Chapter 2 – Malfoy Madness
What in the weeks to come Ginny referred to only as “Malfoy Madness Day” (with an accompanying shudder) started out innocently enough. At breakfast, one of the school owls dropped a small package off for Hermione, who after briefly glancing at the return label, stowed it furtively in her bag.
“Wha— ” began Ron, newly returned from the hospital wing and once again on speaking terms with Hermione.
“Nothing,” Hermione replied preemptively, giving him a fierce glare. He wisely decided not to push it.
As everyone began filing their way out of the Great Hall toward the first class of the day, Hermione hurried to catch up with Ginny and Dean Thomas.
“Er, I have a . . . um . . . present for you,” she said in a subdued voice to Ginny.
“Oh!” replied Ginny brightly. “Right! Dean, I’ll see you at lunch,” she said, waving him on. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and left. Hermione looked around to make sure they weren’t being observed before pulling the package out of her bag and handing it to Ginny.
“Hermione, thank you so much for ordering this for me. I can only imagine what my brothers might have done if they’d known who it was for. Might’ve refused to let me buy one, knowing them!”
Hermione laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she said. “But seriously, Ginny, be careful using it – it’s detention for sure if you get caught.”
“I will, I will,” Ginny replied.
“And . . . uh . . . let me know how it goes,” Hermione continued, a little sheepishly. “I’ve been too nervous to try mine.”
“Well,” Ginny replied, a saucy smile on her face, “I’ll give you a general idea, but I’m certainly not going to divulge the details!” Both girls giggled and parted ways.
Ginny unwrapped her package carefully during Charms. A small box labeled “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ Patented Daydream Charm ~ 30 minutes of Naughty Fun!” stared back at her temptingly. Under the label was a picture of a dashing pirate clutching a buxom woman to his side. In smaller print, the left corner of the box read “Not for under sixteens.” Ginny smiled to herself. Between the stress of studying for O.W.L.s and the constant bickering she and Dean seemed to be doing lately, she could certainly use a bit of a getaway.
And I know just who would make a perfect pirate, she thought, and then had to refrain from laughing out loud at the image of Harry’s glasses contrasting with the rest of the usual pirate get-up.
In class before lunch, as Professor Binns droned on to the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws sitting around him about the Goblin Rebellion of 1612, Ginny felt herself getting very sleepy and decided the time was right for a juicy daydream.
It was bad enough listening to Ron, Harry, and Hermione complain about this class last year, she thought. Now I have to suffer through it, too.
The clock indicated that there was just a little over a half hour until lunch. Cautiously, Ginny opened the Daydream box in her bag and extracted the piece of candy from within it. The glittery pink gumdrop she held was wrapped in a thin sheet of tissue paper on which were written the instructions: “Place in corner of mouth. As candy dissolves, so will you!” Ginny eyed the gumdrop skeptically, trying to decide whether or not the directions sounded just a bit ominous.
“Um, Luna,” she said quietly to Luna Lovegood, who, seated beside her, was absently chewing on the nub of her quill, “Will you just nudge me a bit if I start to . . . um . . . drool?”
“Sure,” replied Luna dreamily, as if there was nothing unusual in the request.
Okay, then, here goes nothing, Ginny thought, placing the gumdrop, squirrel-like, into her cheek.
As soon as the sugary taste of the gumdrop hit her tongue, the room faded away and Ginny found herself suddenly standing on the deck of a ship, the sun beating down on her and salt breezes stirring through her wavy red hair. Three things struck her at once: one, that she was experiencing the scene from two distinct points of view – a first-person who knew exactly what she was doing there, a captive of the dreadful, but very sexy, Captain Codra, and an omniscient persona who was watching the action as if it were a play; two, that a great deal of swordfighting was going on all around her; and three, that she was not so much standing on the deck of a ship as she was tied very firmly to one of the ship’s masts.
A fourth thought struck her as she glanced down at her scanty attire. Whoa, I’m more – voluptuous – than I remember being.
Ginny watched as the fighting raged on. One figure stood out from all the rest – a tall man dressed from head to foot in black. His back was to her as he fought valiantly against three assailants at once, and Ginny took the time to contemplate his very handsome form. His leather boots terminated near his knees and his tight – very tight – black pants were tucked into them. Ginny could see clearly the sinews of his long, muscular legs as her eyes traveled up them.
Nice, she thought, taking in the view.
The man wore a billowy black shirt, which Ginny just knew she would find very open at the chest when he turned around, in true, clichéd pirate fashion. He had a black scarf tied around his head, obscuring Ginny’s view of his hair. Bet it’s dark brown, Ginny thought with a smile. The man had managed to disable two of his opponents before the third turned and ran, and Ginny lost sight of him as he gave pursuit.
Slowly the fighting around her died down. Clearly, one side had won the day. Ginny began to get impatient as she waited for someone to notice her.
Surely I’m not just going to stand here tied up for the next 30 minutes? What kind of fantasy is that?
A voice suddenly spoke into her ear from behind her. “Miss me?” she heard in a soft whisper. Ginny’s body tensed as she felt hot breath on her neck and the faintest touch of lips against her earlobe.
“So sorry I had to chase your hero away. Looks like you won’t be being rescued after all,” the voice drawled with a low chuckle.
“I’ll never be yours, Captain Codra!” first-person Ginny said defiantly, as omniscient Ginny thought, Hmmm, Harry with a dark side. How fun.
“Oh, no?” Captain Codra replied more loudly, with a sneer in his voice. A hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, scraping the right side of it against the mast. “I beg to differ,” he snarled and leaned in to kiss her, hard, his lips pressed against hers so firmly that she tasted blood. First-person Ginny struggled half-heartedly against him as his tongue found its way between her clenched teeth, while omniscient Ginny found herself growing just a tad hot under the collar.
Dean’s never kissed me like that, she thought.
Just as suddenly as he had kissed her, Captain Codra pulled away and let loose his grasp on her hair. Still standing over her shoulder, he laughed mirthlessly, “Liked that didn’t you? I thought you would.”
Ginny spat on the deck in reply, her scraped cheek feeling hot and her head aching slightly.
“You’re a monster!” she hissed.
“Come now, Lady Ginevra,” replied Codra, his voice once again seductively sweet, “It wasn’t that bad. Not yet, anyway.”
Slowly he strode around to face her. At this moment, like a needle screeching across a record player, all of the fun for omniscient Ginny ground to an abrupt halt. Facing her was not a more forceful, slightly out-of-character bad boy Harry Potter, but a very in-character, perhaps even milder than usual bad boy Draco Malfoy.
Draco “Captain Codra” Malfoy stood inches from Ginny’s face, his features coldly expressionless except for a slight smirk at the corners of his mouth, his steel grey eyes locked onto her own. And as omniscient Ginny spluttered and gagged incoherently in her own head, Draco grasped first-person Ginny’s chin firmly and then leaned in again, first merely brushing his lips against hers, and then kissing her softly.
So soft, thought Ginny, temporarily distracted from the mental fit she was throwing.
Draco’s lips lingered on hers for a moment, and then he pulled away, his eyes still focused on hers. Ginny found herself unable to look away, trembling slightly as she felt his warm breath on her face, the heat radiating from his body. As if reading some request in her eyes, Draco bent and kissed her again, more urgently this time, and Ginny, unable to resist any longer, let out a small groan and began to kiss him back, her urgency matching his as she felt waves of intense heat pouring over her body. Draco released her chin and she felt his hands on her, slowly tracing their way up her ribs, his thumbs barely brushing against the undersides of her slightly enhanced breasts. And then, agonizingly, he was pulling away from her again.
“Was that more your style, my Lady?” he asked, quietly, without the trace of a sneer on his face. Ginny breathed heavily, her head spinning, unable to reply. Draco leaned into her once more, and reaching behind her cut her free, releasing her arms to her sides.
“I think I’ll have to stow you someplace – a bit quieter,” said the porcelain-skinned pirate, seizing Ginny’s wrist and dragging her, completely unresisting, away toward his cabin. Just as ravishment seemed imminent, the scene faded mistily around Ginny and she heard the voices of Fred and George.
“We hope you’ve had a lovely time in your Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ Patented Daydream!”
“For an even longer – adventure – try our new Afternoon Delights, Patent Pending!
“A guaranteed ninety minutes of fun!”
“Only one galleon each!”
Ginny found herself once again in class and sputtered, loudly, drawing a few stares from the people sitting around her. Professor Binns didn’t seem to notice.
“For next class, ten inches on the causes of the Third Goblin Rebellion, with particular emphasis on the role played by the state of drinking water in the Carpathian Mountains.”
“I didn’t see you drooling,” Luna said as everyone was packing up, “but you did have a funny twitch above your right eye. You might want to have a lie down – Dad says that there have been outbreaks of Wumbitty Warples in the area recently.”
“Thanks, Luna,” Ginny replied, not really paying attention as she quickly packed up her bag and rushed from the classroom.
Ugh, I need to rinse my mouth out! she thought as she ran for the nearest bathroom.
Entering it still completely immersed in the idea that she just had a sexual fantasy about Draco Malfoy, she came to a halt as she realized the bathroom was already occupied. Seated on one of the sinks, or rather hovering slightly above it, was Moaning Myrtle, deeply engrossed in conversation with none other than the original from Ginny’s daydream.
“I must be losing my mind,” Ginny murmured, staring in horror at the figure of Malfoy stooped over a sink, his elbows resting on either side of it and his face held in his hands. Neither Myrtle nor Malfoy had noticed Ginny enter.
“You can’t possibly understand!” Malfoy was saying impatiently, his voice catching a little. “There isn’t a right choice – nothing I can do!”
“There, there,” said Myrtle soothingly, and Ginny realized, awe-stricken, that Malfoy was actually crying. Slowly she began edging her way back, hoping with all her might that she could escape the bathroom without being seen. Luck was against her, however. Sniffing loudly, Draco raised his head and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Immediately he spun around.
“What are you doing here? Are you spying on me?” he demanded furiously.
“No, Draco – I didn’t know anyone was in here – I didn’t mean to overhear you!” Ginny replied, feeling sorry for Malfoy as she took in his grayish skin and puffy red eyes.
Draco’s face stiffened haughtily. “What did you overhear?” he asked, his voice coldly quiet.
“Not anything really . . . just something about choices. Draco, if you need someone to talk to . . .” Ginny mumbled, her voice trailing off as she realized what she was saying, and to whom.
Offended, Myrtle sniffed loudly and began, “He has someone to –” but Draco cut her off, his eyes narrowed on Ginny.
“As if I would talk to you, Weasley,” he sneered. “But you didn’t tell me why you’re here. This is the men’s room, after all. Oh,” he continued, laughing mockingly, “perhaps you haven’t learned to read yet?” His laughter suddenly turned to snarl. “And how dare you address me as an equal, you filthy blood traitor scum –”
Ginny interrupted him, enraged. “You’re right, Malfoy – you’re no equal of mine! An equal of mine would know that there is always a right choice! Maybe not an easy choice, but always a right one! They’re called morals, Malfoy! Or haven’t you learned those yet?” And without waiting for a reply, she stormed out of the bathroom.
Ginny glowered her way through lunch, snapping at Dean when he tried to kiss her and ignoring everyone else. The rest of her classes went by in a blur as she tried hard not to think about Malfoy, loathing him for making her feel both repulsed and attracted at the same time. He was such an arrogant bastard, she thought, but then she remembered how soft his lips had been as he kissed her . . . the sweetness of his breath . . . his body pressed against hers . . . .
Get a grip, Ginny! That wasn’t real!
By dinnertime, Ginny had a terrible headache and wanted nothing more than to escape into solitude. The Gryffindor common room was blissfully deserted, so she settled down in a squashy chair by the fire and rubbed her temples wearily.
“What was he crying about anyway?” she wondered aloud, her thoughts sliding hopelessly back to Malfoy. “That’s so typical. He’s all swagger and no substance. Nasty comments and bullying to hide the scared little boy inside.” And while part of her despised him, another felt as sorry for him as she had in the bathroom when she saw the tears glittering in his stormy gray eyes.
Just then, Hermione climbed through the portrait hole into the room.
“Hey, Ginny,” she said brightly, “Just grabbing my Potions book – thought I’d head over to the library to get in some extra –” She stopped abruptly, noticing the troubled expression on Ginny’s face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Something with Dean?”
“Nothing. I’m fine,” replied Ginny flatly.
“Oh . . . okay,” said Hermione, registering disbelief in her voice. “Hey, did you try the Daydream Charm?”
“I did.”
“And? How was it?”
Where to begin, Ginny thought glumly. Suddenly she brightened.
“Hermione, do you think it’s possible my brothers found out the charm was for me and somehow hexed it?”
“Why? Didn’t it reveal your deep, subconscious longings? Or” – Hermione paused and then smiled playfully – “are you feeling guilty because you fantasized about someone other than your boyfriend? Because really, Ginny, no one would be surprised, or blame you, if a certain favorite Boy Wonder of ours made his way into your, er, daydream.”
Ginny sighed, seeing the look of satisfaction on Hermione’s face. Clearly she thought she had hit the nail on the head. And Ginny certainly wished she was right.
“I’d be careful using the Daydream Charm if I were you – you might get surprised,” Ginny said finally.
Hermione laughed. “Yeah, I can just imagine it – waiting breathlessly to be ravaged by the masked pirate, only to see him disrobe and reveal himself to be . . . Snape!” She laughed again, a bit nervously this time, and grabbing her Potions book from an end table she hurried off to the library.
Ginny’s dreams that night were again disturbed by images of Draco Malfoy. First she dreamed of him in the Burrow with her, standing in the darkened kitchen, his lips seeking hers with a fierce intensity as she ran her fingers through his white-blonde hair and over his smooth, pale cheeks.
“Gin,” he murmered thickly, his lips grazing her cheek. “Oh, Ginny.” There was such longing in his voice that Ginny felt like her heart would burst. And then suddenly he was gone, and Ginny was standing in her kitchen alone, feeling miserably cold. The scene shifted once more, and this time Ginny was in a room she didn’t recognize, and Draco was with her. Now he was holding up a beautiful gold locket, gazing at her with incredible sorrow in his eyes, and repeating, “It’s for you, Gin. It’s all for you.” She woke up then, her heart beating rapidly.
I really must be hexed, she thought in alarm, trying to throw off the feeling of sadness she had woken up with.
“Draco’s more likely to become a pirate than ever step foot into my home,” she murmured, and then laughed quietly to herself.
Thoughts of Malfoy Madness Day had become fewer and farther between as Ginny and Dean broke up and Ginny began dating Harry. Ginny decided to chalk it up to a short burst of insanity.
But now, as she lay in the rough straw beside Malfoy, listening to his slow, steady breathing, she felt a strange attraction rising within her again. Without thinking, Ginny reached out and gently pushed a lock of his white-blonde hair out of his eyes, the soft skin of his forehead burning beneath her fingers. As if he had felt her touch, Malfoy stirred slightly in his sleep, and Ginny quickly snatched her hand away.
“Madness,” Ginny whispered a short time later, as she drifted into sleep.
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