Chapter 9- Discussions
“Ginny, it wasn’t worth it.”
“Sorry bastard.” Ginny’s eyes were practically shooting green sparks. “I still say you should’ve let me go after him.”
“You should be glad I didn’t.” Ginny swung accusing eyes to her friend, and Hermione met them challengingly. “He was deliberately bating you to get you into trouble. Do you honestly think McGonagall would’ve cared what he said about your family if she came out and saw you Bat Bogey him?”
Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but stopped as she caught sight of Harry heading their way.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“Zacharias Smith decided to use some colorful terms to describe the Weasley family, and Ginny nearly attacked him right outside the Teacher’s Lounge.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed incredulously. “And you stopped her?”
Hermione groaned and shook her head. “What did you want, Harry?”
“I was just coming to tell you that Ron and I are heading into Hogsmeade right after breakfast, if you wanted to come with us.”
Hermione nodded, and Ginny grinned. “I told Blaise I’d show him Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, so he’ll have to come with us.”
Harry shrugged. “No arguments here; he hasn’t turned out to be half-bad.”
“Ginny, where do you want to go?”
Ginny blinked and shook her head as they walked out of the Three Broomsticks. “What?”
“He asked if you wanted to go anywhere specific,” Blaise replied, brushing a few red strands out of her face.
“Do you know where Fred and George set up the Hogsmeade branch of their shop? I want to go there,” she said, pulling her hat farther down over her ears with a shiver.
“It’s this way,” Ron said, heading off in his chosen direction.
“Cold?”
Ginny nodded, her teeth chattering. Blaise waited until they were a bit behind the others before reaching for the scarf peeking out of his coat collar. He wordlessly pulled it off and wrapped it around Ginny’s slim neck.
“Better?”
She glanced down at the Slytherin scarf hanging out in plain view and snorted. “Yeah, thanks.”
“No problem. Come on, the others are getting ahead of us.”
A few minutes later, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes came into view, and Ginny took the last few yards at a run. She burst through the door and caught sight of flaming red hair disappearing into the back room. Without a second thought, she followed.
Fred and George sat together, pouring over old design charts and profit graphs. Neither of them looked up at the sound of footsteps, but George raised his voice slightly. “We’ll be out in a second, Brenda.”
Ginny crossed her feet at the ankles and let the doorjamb take her weight. “Don’t hurry on my account.”
At the sound of their sister’s voice, identical grins broke across the twins’ faces, and they rose as one.
“Ginny! So glad you could come!”
“What brings you here on this fine winter day?”
“Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Aw, don’t be such a spoil sport.”
“By golly, George, you’re right! No one cares!”
Ginny laughed and leaned into the hugs they gave her. “Hi, guys.”
“How are you, Gin? You’re not here alone, I hope?
“No, Ron, Hermione, and Harry are here, too. Oh, and Blaise-”
“Blaise?” Fred’s ears seemed to perk up at the unfamiliar name. “Blaise who?”
“Blaise Zabini.”
“Blaise Zabini. . .isn’t he a Slythie?” They seemed to notice the scarf around her neck for the first time.
“Yes, but he’s terrible at it.”
“Ginny, do I need to talk to this boy?”
Ginny’s cheeks tinged with pink. “Oh gosh, George, he’s just my friend! He’s the new Raoul.”
“Is that right?” Fred rubbed his chin with a hand. “George, I do believe we need to get back to the shop. Customer interaction, if you know what I mean.”
“Why, Fred, I do believe you’re right. Come along, Ginny, you’re not supposed to be back here.”
Rather worried about what her brothers were planning, she followed them back into the store. Ron and Harry were examining a shelf containing various dark detectors, and Hermione was looking over the jar of pygmy puffs. Sure enough, Fred sauntered up to the counter where Blaise was standing and struck up a conversation. Noticing this, Hermione walked over to where Ginny had plopped herself down into a chair.
“What’s up, Gin?”
“Oh, just Fred and George being their usual selves.” Hermione’s face grew curious, and Ginny shrugged. “They think that Blaise and I are an item, or some such nonsense.”
“Did you set them straight?”
“I tried, but they don’t listen very well. We’re just buddies, honestly.”
“Are you sure about that, Ginny?”
The red-head looked sharply at her friend. “What do you mean, Hermione?”
She only shrugged. “Just that the way Blaise looks at you. . .sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t wish you had more than a tentative friendship.”
The bushy-haired brunette walked off, leaving a very uncertain and upset Ginny in her wake.
Ginny lay on the four poster in the Head Girl’s dorm, fingering the Slytherin scarf still around her neck. Blaise couldn’t like her. . .could he? She’d taken his warm smiles and gentle jibes as those of a friend. What if he felt more for her than friendship? What if he thought she returned the sentiment?
Ginny awkwardly turned over, propping her head up on her hand. “Hermione, do you really think he likes me like that?”
Hermione ran a hand through her already bushy hair, a sure sign she was agitated. “I don’t know, Gin. I just think you should be careful how open you are with him until you’re sure.”
Ginny flopped back over onto her back, staring at the canopy of the four poster. “I mean, I like him and everything, but not like that. He’s really sweet and nice and. . . oh, I don’t know! He’s so much better, but for some reason I still prefer Dr-” Ginny stopped abruptly before she could say something incriminating, but Hermione caught it, her brown eyes narrowing.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. It was nothing, forget I said it.”
“You were going to say you preferred Draco.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
The clock struck twelve ominously.
“Ginevra Molly Weasley, don’t toy with me.”
Blaise knew the instant he entered the Head Boy’s dorm that something was amiss. Draco was sitting in the straight backed wooden chair across from the door, and motioned silently for his friend to take a seat. Blaise did so, warily.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Draco spoke, his voice cool and controlled.
“So. . .you went into Hogsmeade today.”
“Yes,” said the other man, somewhat uncertainly.
“Enjoy yourself, did you?”
“Well enough, I suppose.”
The pale blond man looked at his friend over steepled fingers, his gaze cold and calculating. “Why are you suddenly so interested in the Weasley girl?”
Blaise rolled his eyes- they’d been over this before. “She has a name, Draco.”
“Do you have feelings for the girl?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
The clock struck twelve ominously.
“Blaise Zabini, don’t toy with me.”
“-And I just don’t know what to do. Every time I get even somewhat close to him he pushes me away. I can’t stand it!”
Hermione remained silent, and Ginny looked up at her friend. “Mione? What do you think?”
It took Hermione a moment to answer. “Truthfully?”
“Yeah.”
“I think, after hearing all this, I might’ve been wrong. Maybe Blaise is just trying to help you get under that shell that Malfoy almost never lets down.”
“Why would he want to do that?”
Hermione shook her head wonderingly. “I have no idea. If I had to choose between them Ginny, I’d go for Blaise. If you’re superficial, he’s just as rich and handsome as Malfoy is. If you’re looking for something deeper, Blaise is nice, funny, smart, and down-to-Earth. Plus, I can almost guarantee he’d treat you right, which is more than anyone can say for old ferret-face.”
Ginny sighed and stood to leave. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I don’t feel anything stronger for her than I would for a friend.”
“Are you sure?”
“By Merlin, Draco, grow up! Ginny’s like a sister to me! Satisfied?”
“No, I’m not.” Draco’s gray eyes grew hard, and he stood, towering in the small room. “I think you’re lying to me.”
“Draco, read my lips: I. Don’t. Like. Ginny. I don’t know how to make you believe me, but I know I can’t say it any more clearly than that. I do think, however, that you can’t make the same claim.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you like Ginny, and you don’t need to bother denying it; I know I’m right. So let me give you a bit of advice, friend to friend. Ginny’s a fire ball, and she’s not going to put up with any of the shit you’ve just put me through. You have to treat her with respect, or she’ll Bat Bogey you so fast it’ll make your head spin.” Blaise stood, and he somehow seemed taller than his friend. “And if you hurt her, just remember that she has six older brothers who won’t hesitate to make you regret it.”
Blaise swept out of the room, leaving a very quiet Draco in his wake.
“Ginny, it wasn’t worth it.”
“Sorry bastard.” Ginny’s eyes were practically shooting green sparks. “I still say you should’ve let me go after him.”
“You should be glad I didn’t.” Ginny swung accusing eyes to her friend, and Hermione met them challengingly. “He was deliberately bating you to get you into trouble. Do you honestly think McGonagall would’ve cared what he said about your family if she came out and saw you Bat Bogey him?”
Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but stopped as she caught sight of Harry heading their way.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“Zacharias Smith decided to use some colorful terms to describe the Weasley family, and Ginny nearly attacked him right outside the Teacher’s Lounge.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed incredulously. “And you stopped her?”
Hermione groaned and shook her head. “What did you want, Harry?”
“I was just coming to tell you that Ron and I are heading into Hogsmeade right after breakfast, if you wanted to come with us.”
Hermione nodded, and Ginny grinned. “I told Blaise I’d show him Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, so he’ll have to come with us.”
Harry shrugged. “No arguments here; he hasn’t turned out to be half-bad.”
“Ginny, where do you want to go?”
Ginny blinked and shook her head as they walked out of the Three Broomsticks. “What?”
“He asked if you wanted to go anywhere specific,” Blaise replied, brushing a few red strands out of her face.
“Do you know where Fred and George set up the Hogsmeade branch of their shop? I want to go there,” she said, pulling her hat farther down over her ears with a shiver.
“It’s this way,” Ron said, heading off in his chosen direction.
“Cold?”
Ginny nodded, her teeth chattering. Blaise waited until they were a bit behind the others before reaching for the scarf peeking out of his coat collar. He wordlessly pulled it off and wrapped it around Ginny’s slim neck.
“Better?”
She glanced down at the Slytherin scarf hanging out in plain view and snorted. “Yeah, thanks.”
“No problem. Come on, the others are getting ahead of us.”
A few minutes later, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes came into view, and Ginny took the last few yards at a run. She burst through the door and caught sight of flaming red hair disappearing into the back room. Without a second thought, she followed.
Fred and George sat together, pouring over old design charts and profit graphs. Neither of them looked up at the sound of footsteps, but George raised his voice slightly. “We’ll be out in a second, Brenda.”
Ginny crossed her feet at the ankles and let the doorjamb take her weight. “Don’t hurry on my account.”
At the sound of their sister’s voice, identical grins broke across the twins’ faces, and they rose as one.
“Ginny! So glad you could come!”
“What brings you here on this fine winter day?”
“Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Aw, don’t be such a spoil sport.”
“By golly, George, you’re right! No one cares!”
Ginny laughed and leaned into the hugs they gave her. “Hi, guys.”
“How are you, Gin? You’re not here alone, I hope?
“No, Ron, Hermione, and Harry are here, too. Oh, and Blaise-”
“Blaise?” Fred’s ears seemed to perk up at the unfamiliar name. “Blaise who?”
“Blaise Zabini.”
“Blaise Zabini. . .isn’t he a Slythie?” They seemed to notice the scarf around her neck for the first time.
“Yes, but he’s terrible at it.”
“Ginny, do I need to talk to this boy?”
Ginny’s cheeks tinged with pink. “Oh gosh, George, he’s just my friend! He’s the new Raoul.”
“Is that right?” Fred rubbed his chin with a hand. “George, I do believe we need to get back to the shop. Customer interaction, if you know what I mean.”
“Why, Fred, I do believe you’re right. Come along, Ginny, you’re not supposed to be back here.”
Rather worried about what her brothers were planning, she followed them back into the store. Ron and Harry were examining a shelf containing various dark detectors, and Hermione was looking over the jar of pygmy puffs. Sure enough, Fred sauntered up to the counter where Blaise was standing and struck up a conversation. Noticing this, Hermione walked over to where Ginny had plopped herself down into a chair.
“What’s up, Gin?”
“Oh, just Fred and George being their usual selves.” Hermione’s face grew curious, and Ginny shrugged. “They think that Blaise and I are an item, or some such nonsense.”
“Did you set them straight?”
“I tried, but they don’t listen very well. We’re just buddies, honestly.”
“Are you sure about that, Ginny?”
The red-head looked sharply at her friend. “What do you mean, Hermione?”
She only shrugged. “Just that the way Blaise looks at you. . .sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t wish you had more than a tentative friendship.”
The bushy-haired brunette walked off, leaving a very uncertain and upset Ginny in her wake.
Ginny lay on the four poster in the Head Girl’s dorm, fingering the Slytherin scarf still around her neck. Blaise couldn’t like her. . .could he? She’d taken his warm smiles and gentle jibes as those of a friend. What if he felt more for her than friendship? What if he thought she returned the sentiment?
Ginny awkwardly turned over, propping her head up on her hand. “Hermione, do you really think he likes me like that?”
Hermione ran a hand through her already bushy hair, a sure sign she was agitated. “I don’t know, Gin. I just think you should be careful how open you are with him until you’re sure.”
Ginny flopped back over onto her back, staring at the canopy of the four poster. “I mean, I like him and everything, but not like that. He’s really sweet and nice and. . . oh, I don’t know! He’s so much better, but for some reason I still prefer Dr-” Ginny stopped abruptly before she could say something incriminating, but Hermione caught it, her brown eyes narrowing.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. It was nothing, forget I said it.”
“You were going to say you preferred Draco.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
The clock struck twelve ominously.
“Ginevra Molly Weasley, don’t toy with me.”
Blaise knew the instant he entered the Head Boy’s dorm that something was amiss. Draco was sitting in the straight backed wooden chair across from the door, and motioned silently for his friend to take a seat. Blaise did so, warily.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Draco spoke, his voice cool and controlled.
“So. . .you went into Hogsmeade today.”
“Yes,” said the other man, somewhat uncertainly.
“Enjoy yourself, did you?”
“Well enough, I suppose.”
The pale blond man looked at his friend over steepled fingers, his gaze cold and calculating. “Why are you suddenly so interested in the Weasley girl?”
Blaise rolled his eyes- they’d been over this before. “She has a name, Draco.”
“Do you have feelings for the girl?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
The clock struck twelve ominously.
“Blaise Zabini, don’t toy with me.”
“-And I just don’t know what to do. Every time I get even somewhat close to him he pushes me away. I can’t stand it!”
Hermione remained silent, and Ginny looked up at her friend. “Mione? What do you think?”
It took Hermione a moment to answer. “Truthfully?”
“Yeah.”
“I think, after hearing all this, I might’ve been wrong. Maybe Blaise is just trying to help you get under that shell that Malfoy almost never lets down.”
“Why would he want to do that?”
Hermione shook her head wonderingly. “I have no idea. If I had to choose between them Ginny, I’d go for Blaise. If you’re superficial, he’s just as rich and handsome as Malfoy is. If you’re looking for something deeper, Blaise is nice, funny, smart, and down-to-Earth. Plus, I can almost guarantee he’d treat you right, which is more than anyone can say for old ferret-face.”
Ginny sighed and stood to leave. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I don’t feel anything stronger for her than I would for a friend.”
“Are you sure?”
“By Merlin, Draco, grow up! Ginny’s like a sister to me! Satisfied?”
“No, I’m not.” Draco’s gray eyes grew hard, and he stood, towering in the small room. “I think you’re lying to me.”
“Draco, read my lips: I. Don’t. Like. Ginny. I don’t know how to make you believe me, but I know I can’t say it any more clearly than that. I do think, however, that you can’t make the same claim.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you like Ginny, and you don’t need to bother denying it; I know I’m right. So let me give you a bit of advice, friend to friend. Ginny’s a fire ball, and she’s not going to put up with any of the shit you’ve just put me through. You have to treat her with respect, or she’ll Bat Bogey you so fast it’ll make your head spin.” Blaise stood, and he somehow seemed taller than his friend. “And if you hurt her, just remember that she has six older brothers who won’t hesitate to make you regret it.”
Blaise swept out of the room, leaving a very quiet Draco in his wake.
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