Chapter 4: Faint
Draco Malfoy grinned. It was not an everyday occurrence. The hopefully last Weasley was storming around the kitchen in a nasty temper, destroying everything in her path. Seems she couldn’t get back to sleep at night. Well, neither could Draco, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had really gotten to him. Draco had lain awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking about life in general. How horrible it was. Needless to say, it had been a topic to occupy him for the entire night. But for some reason, his mind wasn’t satisfied, and kept supplying random images of Ginny Weasley. Which at first Draco had thought was appropriate, considering the topic. But the nature of the images weren’t exactly…well, horrible. She insulted my mother! Draco kept saying to himself. But still Ginny Weasley had insisted upon dancing around on the backs of his eyelids in naughty lingerie.
Now, however, Draco was fine, having had a large and satisfactory breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, and a sort of waffle-envelope. He had dubbed it the Waffle-Envelope-Thing. It was very tasty. Though he would never admit that to anyone, for apparently the youngest Weasel had made it. Time for some fun, Draco decided impishly. He might have smirked and rubbed his hands together in fiendish glee, but that was horribly cliché. And Malfoys are never cliché.
“Bee in your bonnet, Weasley?” he drawled.
Ginny, running out of things to throw, rounded and glared dangerously at Draco. His cheerfulness seemed to irk her even further. He might have been slightly concerned for his own well being if he hadn’t been in such a ridiculously good mood. “More like a twitchy little ferret. Get the hell out of my bonnet, Malfoy.”
“Language, Weasel. It's easier to stay out then get out.”
“Good idea. Stay out of my business, and I’d say stay out of my house too, if you hadn’t been such an ignominious prat and somehow gotten the entire Dark Side on your tail. It must be that animal magnetism people are always talking about,” Ginny growled. Her hair was a wild, beautiful mess of scarlet, gold, and orange, and she looked as though she had dressed in the dark. Beautiful? She’s insulting you, Draco. Get with the program, you great sexy beast, get with the program!
Ginny, miffed with his lack of response, proceeded to throw things with renewed vigor. Draco decided he wanted to keep his head on his neck and went to find his mother.
___________________________________
“…And that’s that,” Hetty finished. She and Harry were outside now, standing next to the ‘courtyard.’ The sun was high in the sky, and their tea had gotten cold long ago.
Harry gazed around at the sloping green hills and small white cottages all around, taking in the pretty picture it made. There was a cobblestone street that led further down into the valley, and he could see people actually leading sheep around. It was fairytale-like, and made Harry realize that he missed home. I am home.
It was an unsettling thought. Godric’s Hollow was perfect, beautiful and serene, but to call it a home still didn’t feel quite right. Harry decided he would come back here later, when the war was over. If I’m alive, that is.
“Harry?” asked Hetty, worry lacing her voice. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him? He’s only sixteen, after all. It’s a lot to take in for anybody. But there was something about Harry, a sort of melancholy stillness, which made you want to spill your heart out to him. He hadn’t always been this desolate though. Losing so many loved ones so quickly and so suddenly has that effect on people.
Harry looked up. “Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. I just…need some time to think.” Hetty tried to reply but he had already wandered to the east, away from the sun and his home.
_______________________________
Narcissa was reading a book when Draco entered. He wisely decided not to glance at the cover. “Hello, Mother.”
She paused in her reading, her eyes giving him a quick look-over to see that he was all right. Satisfied, she put the novel down and patted the chair next to her. Her posture was straight, legs crossed at the ankles, and she seemed very dignified and elegant. A true Ice Queen. “Did you need something, Draco?”
He hesitated. It was becoming less and less noteworthy. “Well, actually Mother, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask away.” Oh please, please don’t ask, Draco…
“Why hasn’t father come home, if all the Dementors have left Azkaban?”
Shit. “Is it really important? You have another parent, you know," she said gently. Or at least as gently as a Malfoy can.
He simply looked at her. Narcissa sighed and plowed on. “I don’t really know, Draco. After the…mishap with Dumbledore--” Here Draco flinched. Would he never escape the shame? “--After that, nothing was really certain. At first I thought, maybe we will be okay. Lucius and I have always been avid followers of the Dark Lord, and I was hoping that he would take this into account when considering our punishment. The Malfoys’ are his most loyal followers, after all.” Narcissa’s face twisted in a very unbecoming sneer, “Unfortunately, he seemed to forget our history in light of how Lucius allowed the prophecy to break in the Ministry of Magic. We were not to be spared. Your father…acted in a way I would have never expected. He is said to have escaped Azkaban. But he has not come home to us, nor did he return to the Dark Lord. I can only assume he fled to spare his own life.”
Draco stared at his mother, his face expressionless to all but a choice few. His tone was disbelieving, incredulous. “How can you say that, Mother? He would never run from his fate, you know that. Father is no coward.”
“But it wasn’t his own fate, was it, Draco? You did this to all of us,” she said, unable to keep the accusation out of her voice. “Why couldn't you have just killed the old fool and be over with? Surely you can't have had compassion for the man!”
Draco gritted his teeth. She’s right. All of this is my fault. But I’ll be damned if I let her know that. He wanted to kick and scream and throw a tantrum like he used to when he was ten, but things had changed. A tantrum right now could cost him the last thing he had- his mother. Remember what Aunt Bellatrix said: Show no emotion, Draco. So instead of answering, he made a great show of yanking open the door and slamming it. Narcissa glared at said door. The Malfoys seemed to have a problem with blaming the doors.
___________________________________
It was sweltering hot outside, though it shouldn't have been, considering the high peaks surrounding them. Harry looked around. He had left Hetty and his belongings behind a while back. He said he needed to think, and that was exactly what he was doing. Harry's thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he wasn't sure he wanted to sort through them right now. It was all too fresh. Instead, he flopped down on a choice bit of grass and stared up at the clouds that were drifting lazily across the sky. Harry followed a rather large one's progress, hoping it would block out some of the sun's vicious rays. Realizing the futility of his task, Harry just sighed and closed his eyes. Images danced across the backs of his eyelids, long-suppressed memories busting forth.
“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”
“Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now...”
“Not Harry, please no, take me instead-”
“Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...”
A shadow fell across his eyes, interrupting his thoughts. “I'm not done thinking yet, Hetty.” Maybe she would go away with a little encouragement. The shadow did not move. Harry opened his eyes, and glared. “I said I'm not don--" The intruder made a sudden movement with their fingers, and about twelve others emerged from beyond Harry's line of vision. They were all cloaked and masked, but he did not need to see their faces to know who they were. Death Eaters.
______________________________
“Oh, but it’s so much prettier!”
Fleur scoffed. “As though you would know ze meaning of pretty! You are naught but a leetle girl!”
“Little girl? I'm almost 16!” Ginny huffed.
Normally, Fleur would be running around with bats flying out of her nose by now. But Ginny had promised Bill she would be nice to Fleur, at least until after the wedding, and that meant no Bat Bogey Hexes. They were standing in Charlie’s old room, with beautiful dresses scattered everywhere. Since most of the planning and the wedding was taking place in France, Fleur had decided to leave the clothes to the very last. “My mother always said to leave ze best for last,” she had told them. And these clothes were indeed the best. Fleur had insisted upon paying for the wedding clothes, saying the sum was far too extravagant for Bill’s paycheck. At first Bill had been offended, but once he saw the receipts Ginny could tell he was glad for Fleur's intervention.
At the moment Ginny and Fleur were arguing whether the bridesmaids should wear baby blue or vivid green. Ginny had always been fond of green; you had to be if you were going to go out with Harry Potter, no matter how short the period of time. His emerald eyes were fawned over in every girls’ dormitory in Hogwarts. Ginny gave herself a mental shake. No thinking about Harry, she scolded herself.
Fleur looked at Ginny slyly. “Speaking of pretty, what about zat Draco Malfoy boy?”
Ginny kept her face expressionless. “What about him?”
“Ah, yes. I forgot zat you are not too bright. Let me put this in leetle words for you. Do you theenk that he is handsome?”
Ginny stared at Fleur. “Are you kidding? He’s evil, vying with the Dark forces and all that, not to mention the biggest git alive.”
“I did not ask you for his life story, Ginny. I asked whether you theenk he is ‘andsome,” snapped Fleur. Her foot was tapping on the floor and her accent was becoming more pronounced in her impatience.
Ginny was saved from answering by a high-pitched scream from downstairs. Ginny and Fleur dropped the expensive dresses without a second thought. In times like these, what was several thousand pounds when someone you love could be hurt?
“Mum!"
Ginny and Fleur gasped, their wands clattering to the floor. Molly Weasley was slumped on the floor in a dead faint, and Arthur looked as though he was about to join her. He decided to spare his breath, only motioning towards the coffee table. There a letter was lying quietly, luring one into a false sense of security. Ginny picked it up and skimmed it, her eyes growing wider and wider with each word.
You-Know-Who's got Harry!
Ginny looked at her dad, her face pale. “Who’s going to rescue him?” She stiffened at the sound of another voice, this time coming from the fireplace. There the head of an old man with frizzy silver hair and a frown sat.
“We can’t rescue anyone until we know where he is first,” he wheezed.
Fleur was in front of him in an instant, her wand at the ready. That fluid grace could come in handy sometimes.
“Whoa there, lass. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I need to speak with Arthur and Molly. Get Bill and Charlie too, if they’re home.”
Arthur seemed to collect himself at the sight of this stranger. He stood up, clearing his throat and attempting to make himself more presentable. “Elphias! You must be in a hurry, what with your new position, do come in-”
Elphias shook his head, his frizz bouncing every which way. “No time for that, Arthur. Just get the others so I can debrief you on the situation and be on my way. This matter was far too important to leave to one of the co-heads, so here I am breaking my back getting the message out. Poor Albus, I don't know how he managed a school and the Order at the same time.”
Ginny decided to save her parents the trouble of shooing her, and ran upstairs to distract the Malfoys’. It wouldn’t do for them to walk in on an urgent conversation like this. Fleur stayed downstairs to tend to Mrs. Weasley, but also because she was a member of the Order now as well.
____________________________
Prone to theatrics, aren’t they? Draco thought sardonically when he heard a scream from downstairs. He stared at the ceiling, thinking yet again about the night of Dumbledore’s death. Why couldn’t I have just killed him?
But he already knew why. Draco just wasn’t a killer. Oh, he could torture verbally and physically, but when it came down to it, he just didn’t have it in him to end someone’s life so completely. It was a bit funny, considering how many times he had thought about killing Harry Potter. Each mental murder was more gruesome and satisfying than the last, but he just couldn’t force himself to actually, physically kill.
After his rather embarrassing failure, Snape had taken him home to his mother. The man was creepy; he had looked insane and for once his pasty face actually had color in it. He had said something before he left to Narcissa. “There, are you happy now?” It was this statement that Draco was trying to understand now. Why would Mother be happy over something Snape of all people, did?
The door burst open. “Malfoy! Just the person I wanted to see!” Ginny’s cheeks were flushed and she had a huge, fake smile on her face.
“Get out of my room, Weasley.”
“This is Fred and George’s room.”
“No wonder it’s so filthy. But it’s mine for the time being, so get out.”
“Oh, but I’ve been dying to talk to you all day!” Ginny sang.
“Oh, keep on dying! I won’t mind,” smirked Draco.
Ginny tried to keep her temper in check, comforted with the fact that Ron was in Percy’s room distracting Mrs. Malfoy. At least I didn’t get stuck with that old dragon, she thought happily. “Ha ha! You’re so funny. Why did I never notice it before?”
“Nearsighted-ness. Tends to afflict those with Muggle-loving tendencies.”
“Riiight. So, Drakey-dear,” Ginny cringed at his name, “tell me, how are you today on this finest of all days?”
Draco looked aggravated. “Weasley, if you want some money, all you have to do is ask. Granted, I probably won’t give it to you, but then we can end this stupid charade of civility and be on our way. Or rather, you can be on your way.” He looked from her to the door pointedly.
“Oh, I don’t want your money! No, I just want to know how you are. Please tell me Drakey, how are you?” Ginny was actually starting to enjoy this. She could tell she was getting to him for once. She flashed him an extra bright smile.
Draco looked as though he wanted to throttle her, but a moment later his entire demeanor had changed. He was looking at her with an odd light in his eyes, and far too close for comfort. Ginny could hardly breathe. Her eyes dropped to his lips. They were only inches from her own…she could feel their breath intermingling. Is he going to kiss me? Strangely, this thought didn’t repulse her as much as it should have. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Ginny could feel herself watching its progress almost hungrily. Her eyes started to flutter shut, and then there was a sudden rush of air and a deep throaty noise. Ginny’s eyes snapped open. He was laughing at her! That loathsome git!
”I can’t believe you fell for that, Weasley. You actually thought I would kiss piece of trash like you?” snickered Draco.
Ginny’s face flushed, and she could swear she was seeing red. “You bloody--ARGH!”
She grabbed the nearest object and proceeded to maul him with it. Too bad it was a pillow. Too bad for Draco, that is.
Draco Malfoy grinned. It was not an everyday occurrence. The hopefully last Weasley was storming around the kitchen in a nasty temper, destroying everything in her path. Seems she couldn’t get back to sleep at night. Well, neither could Draco, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had really gotten to him. Draco had lain awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking about life in general. How horrible it was. Needless to say, it had been a topic to occupy him for the entire night. But for some reason, his mind wasn’t satisfied, and kept supplying random images of Ginny Weasley. Which at first Draco had thought was appropriate, considering the topic. But the nature of the images weren’t exactly…well, horrible. She insulted my mother! Draco kept saying to himself. But still Ginny Weasley had insisted upon dancing around on the backs of his eyelids in naughty lingerie.
Now, however, Draco was fine, having had a large and satisfactory breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, and a sort of waffle-envelope. He had dubbed it the Waffle-Envelope-Thing. It was very tasty. Though he would never admit that to anyone, for apparently the youngest Weasel had made it. Time for some fun, Draco decided impishly. He might have smirked and rubbed his hands together in fiendish glee, but that was horribly cliché. And Malfoys are never cliché.
“Bee in your bonnet, Weasley?” he drawled.
Ginny, running out of things to throw, rounded and glared dangerously at Draco. His cheerfulness seemed to irk her even further. He might have been slightly concerned for his own well being if he hadn’t been in such a ridiculously good mood. “More like a twitchy little ferret. Get the hell out of my bonnet, Malfoy.”
“Language, Weasel. It's easier to stay out then get out.”
“Good idea. Stay out of my business, and I’d say stay out of my house too, if you hadn’t been such an ignominious prat and somehow gotten the entire Dark Side on your tail. It must be that animal magnetism people are always talking about,” Ginny growled. Her hair was a wild, beautiful mess of scarlet, gold, and orange, and she looked as though she had dressed in the dark. Beautiful? She’s insulting you, Draco. Get with the program, you great sexy beast, get with the program!
Ginny, miffed with his lack of response, proceeded to throw things with renewed vigor. Draco decided he wanted to keep his head on his neck and went to find his mother.
___________________________________
“…And that’s that,” Hetty finished. She and Harry were outside now, standing next to the ‘courtyard.’ The sun was high in the sky, and their tea had gotten cold long ago.
Harry gazed around at the sloping green hills and small white cottages all around, taking in the pretty picture it made. There was a cobblestone street that led further down into the valley, and he could see people actually leading sheep around. It was fairytale-like, and made Harry realize that he missed home. I am home.
It was an unsettling thought. Godric’s Hollow was perfect, beautiful and serene, but to call it a home still didn’t feel quite right. Harry decided he would come back here later, when the war was over. If I’m alive, that is.
“Harry?” asked Hetty, worry lacing her voice. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him? He’s only sixteen, after all. It’s a lot to take in for anybody. But there was something about Harry, a sort of melancholy stillness, which made you want to spill your heart out to him. He hadn’t always been this desolate though. Losing so many loved ones so quickly and so suddenly has that effect on people.
Harry looked up. “Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. I just…need some time to think.” Hetty tried to reply but he had already wandered to the east, away from the sun and his home.
_______________________________
Narcissa was reading a book when Draco entered. He wisely decided not to glance at the cover. “Hello, Mother.”
She paused in her reading, her eyes giving him a quick look-over to see that he was all right. Satisfied, she put the novel down and patted the chair next to her. Her posture was straight, legs crossed at the ankles, and she seemed very dignified and elegant. A true Ice Queen. “Did you need something, Draco?”
He hesitated. It was becoming less and less noteworthy. “Well, actually Mother, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask away.” Oh please, please don’t ask, Draco…
“Why hasn’t father come home, if all the Dementors have left Azkaban?”
Shit. “Is it really important? You have another parent, you know," she said gently. Or at least as gently as a Malfoy can.
He simply looked at her. Narcissa sighed and plowed on. “I don’t really know, Draco. After the…mishap with Dumbledore--” Here Draco flinched. Would he never escape the shame? “--After that, nothing was really certain. At first I thought, maybe we will be okay. Lucius and I have always been avid followers of the Dark Lord, and I was hoping that he would take this into account when considering our punishment. The Malfoys’ are his most loyal followers, after all.” Narcissa’s face twisted in a very unbecoming sneer, “Unfortunately, he seemed to forget our history in light of how Lucius allowed the prophecy to break in the Ministry of Magic. We were not to be spared. Your father…acted in a way I would have never expected. He is said to have escaped Azkaban. But he has not come home to us, nor did he return to the Dark Lord. I can only assume he fled to spare his own life.”
Draco stared at his mother, his face expressionless to all but a choice few. His tone was disbelieving, incredulous. “How can you say that, Mother? He would never run from his fate, you know that. Father is no coward.”
“But it wasn’t his own fate, was it, Draco? You did this to all of us,” she said, unable to keep the accusation out of her voice. “Why couldn't you have just killed the old fool and be over with? Surely you can't have had compassion for the man!”
Draco gritted his teeth. She’s right. All of this is my fault. But I’ll be damned if I let her know that. He wanted to kick and scream and throw a tantrum like he used to when he was ten, but things had changed. A tantrum right now could cost him the last thing he had- his mother. Remember what Aunt Bellatrix said: Show no emotion, Draco. So instead of answering, he made a great show of yanking open the door and slamming it. Narcissa glared at said door. The Malfoys seemed to have a problem with blaming the doors.
___________________________________
It was sweltering hot outside, though it shouldn't have been, considering the high peaks surrounding them. Harry looked around. He had left Hetty and his belongings behind a while back. He said he needed to think, and that was exactly what he was doing. Harry's thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he wasn't sure he wanted to sort through them right now. It was all too fresh. Instead, he flopped down on a choice bit of grass and stared up at the clouds that were drifting lazily across the sky. Harry followed a rather large one's progress, hoping it would block out some of the sun's vicious rays. Realizing the futility of his task, Harry just sighed and closed his eyes. Images danced across the backs of his eyelids, long-suppressed memories busting forth.
“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”
“Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now...”
“Not Harry, please no, take me instead-”
“Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...”
A shadow fell across his eyes, interrupting his thoughts. “I'm not done thinking yet, Hetty.” Maybe she would go away with a little encouragement. The shadow did not move. Harry opened his eyes, and glared. “I said I'm not don--" The intruder made a sudden movement with their fingers, and about twelve others emerged from beyond Harry's line of vision. They were all cloaked and masked, but he did not need to see their faces to know who they were. Death Eaters.
______________________________
“Oh, but it’s so much prettier!”
Fleur scoffed. “As though you would know ze meaning of pretty! You are naught but a leetle girl!”
“Little girl? I'm almost 16!” Ginny huffed.
Normally, Fleur would be running around with bats flying out of her nose by now. But Ginny had promised Bill she would be nice to Fleur, at least until after the wedding, and that meant no Bat Bogey Hexes. They were standing in Charlie’s old room, with beautiful dresses scattered everywhere. Since most of the planning and the wedding was taking place in France, Fleur had decided to leave the clothes to the very last. “My mother always said to leave ze best for last,” she had told them. And these clothes were indeed the best. Fleur had insisted upon paying for the wedding clothes, saying the sum was far too extravagant for Bill’s paycheck. At first Bill had been offended, but once he saw the receipts Ginny could tell he was glad for Fleur's intervention.
At the moment Ginny and Fleur were arguing whether the bridesmaids should wear baby blue or vivid green. Ginny had always been fond of green; you had to be if you were going to go out with Harry Potter, no matter how short the period of time. His emerald eyes were fawned over in every girls’ dormitory in Hogwarts. Ginny gave herself a mental shake. No thinking about Harry, she scolded herself.
Fleur looked at Ginny slyly. “Speaking of pretty, what about zat Draco Malfoy boy?”
Ginny kept her face expressionless. “What about him?”
“Ah, yes. I forgot zat you are not too bright. Let me put this in leetle words for you. Do you theenk that he is handsome?”
Ginny stared at Fleur. “Are you kidding? He’s evil, vying with the Dark forces and all that, not to mention the biggest git alive.”
“I did not ask you for his life story, Ginny. I asked whether you theenk he is ‘andsome,” snapped Fleur. Her foot was tapping on the floor and her accent was becoming more pronounced in her impatience.
Ginny was saved from answering by a high-pitched scream from downstairs. Ginny and Fleur dropped the expensive dresses without a second thought. In times like these, what was several thousand pounds when someone you love could be hurt?
“Mum!"
Ginny and Fleur gasped, their wands clattering to the floor. Molly Weasley was slumped on the floor in a dead faint, and Arthur looked as though he was about to join her. He decided to spare his breath, only motioning towards the coffee table. There a letter was lying quietly, luring one into a false sense of security. Ginny picked it up and skimmed it, her eyes growing wider and wider with each word.
You-Know-Who's got Harry!
Ginny looked at her dad, her face pale. “Who’s going to rescue him?” She stiffened at the sound of another voice, this time coming from the fireplace. There the head of an old man with frizzy silver hair and a frown sat.
“We can’t rescue anyone until we know where he is first,” he wheezed.
Fleur was in front of him in an instant, her wand at the ready. That fluid grace could come in handy sometimes.
“Whoa there, lass. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I need to speak with Arthur and Molly. Get Bill and Charlie too, if they’re home.”
Arthur seemed to collect himself at the sight of this stranger. He stood up, clearing his throat and attempting to make himself more presentable. “Elphias! You must be in a hurry, what with your new position, do come in-”
Elphias shook his head, his frizz bouncing every which way. “No time for that, Arthur. Just get the others so I can debrief you on the situation and be on my way. This matter was far too important to leave to one of the co-heads, so here I am breaking my back getting the message out. Poor Albus, I don't know how he managed a school and the Order at the same time.”
Ginny decided to save her parents the trouble of shooing her, and ran upstairs to distract the Malfoys’. It wouldn’t do for them to walk in on an urgent conversation like this. Fleur stayed downstairs to tend to Mrs. Weasley, but also because she was a member of the Order now as well.
____________________________
Prone to theatrics, aren’t they? Draco thought sardonically when he heard a scream from downstairs. He stared at the ceiling, thinking yet again about the night of Dumbledore’s death. Why couldn’t I have just killed him?
But he already knew why. Draco just wasn’t a killer. Oh, he could torture verbally and physically, but when it came down to it, he just didn’t have it in him to end someone’s life so completely. It was a bit funny, considering how many times he had thought about killing Harry Potter. Each mental murder was more gruesome and satisfying than the last, but he just couldn’t force himself to actually, physically kill.
After his rather embarrassing failure, Snape had taken him home to his mother. The man was creepy; he had looked insane and for once his pasty face actually had color in it. He had said something before he left to Narcissa. “There, are you happy now?” It was this statement that Draco was trying to understand now. Why would Mother be happy over something Snape of all people, did?
The door burst open. “Malfoy! Just the person I wanted to see!” Ginny’s cheeks were flushed and she had a huge, fake smile on her face.
“Get out of my room, Weasley.”
“This is Fred and George’s room.”
“No wonder it’s so filthy. But it’s mine for the time being, so get out.”
“Oh, but I’ve been dying to talk to you all day!” Ginny sang.
“Oh, keep on dying! I won’t mind,” smirked Draco.
Ginny tried to keep her temper in check, comforted with the fact that Ron was in Percy’s room distracting Mrs. Malfoy. At least I didn’t get stuck with that old dragon, she thought happily. “Ha ha! You’re so funny. Why did I never notice it before?”
“Nearsighted-ness. Tends to afflict those with Muggle-loving tendencies.”
“Riiight. So, Drakey-dear,” Ginny cringed at his name, “tell me, how are you today on this finest of all days?”
Draco looked aggravated. “Weasley, if you want some money, all you have to do is ask. Granted, I probably won’t give it to you, but then we can end this stupid charade of civility and be on our way. Or rather, you can be on your way.” He looked from her to the door pointedly.
“Oh, I don’t want your money! No, I just want to know how you are. Please tell me Drakey, how are you?” Ginny was actually starting to enjoy this. She could tell she was getting to him for once. She flashed him an extra bright smile.
Draco looked as though he wanted to throttle her, but a moment later his entire demeanor had changed. He was looking at her with an odd light in his eyes, and far too close for comfort. Ginny could hardly breathe. Her eyes dropped to his lips. They were only inches from her own…she could feel their breath intermingling. Is he going to kiss me? Strangely, this thought didn’t repulse her as much as it should have. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Ginny could feel herself watching its progress almost hungrily. Her eyes started to flutter shut, and then there was a sudden rush of air and a deep throaty noise. Ginny’s eyes snapped open. He was laughing at her! That loathsome git!
”I can’t believe you fell for that, Weasley. You actually thought I would kiss piece of trash like you?” snickered Draco.
Ginny’s face flushed, and she could swear she was seeing red. “You bloody--ARGH!”
She grabbed the nearest object and proceeded to maul him with it. Too bad it was a pillow. Too bad for Draco, that is.
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