He was a hard-headed man,
He was brutally handsome,
and she was terminally pretty.
She held him up, and he held her for ransom in the heart
of the cold, cold city...
– Life In The Fast Lane, by the Eagles
X
I was still really incredulous as I walked to the Great Hall. Incredulous that the blush still hadn’t faded from my cheeks; that I kept looking behind my shoulder instinctively in a...(gulp) hope that he would be there... and incredulous that his face was swimming in my mind – the pale skin...the chiseled features – the straight square of his chin, with the little hint of a cleft, the hollow cheeks with the high cheekbones cutting into his face sharply; the full, dark lips. And the eyes – wide, the irises a brilliant, piercing, stormy grey, fringed by long, pale lashes.
When I finally got to the hall without doing anything stupid, my eyes instinctively ran across the tables. Good, Harry wasn’t up yet. It was so awkward being around him. I don’t think... he’d gotten over me, even if I’d told him things couldn’t work out between us, ever.
My eyes also glanced across the Slytherin table as I sat at my regular seat. The only people there were Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle sitting very close together and feeding bits of toast to each other (gag), some warty looking guy I didn’t remember seeing before, and Blaise Zabini – looking pretty cute, actually.
I examined Blaise appraisingly as I buttered my toast. Tall, swarthy... kind of playful looking. Why couldn’t I have been dared to do him? He was extremely annoying in his own way, of course, but there was reasoning with him.
But somehow, that idea didn’t interest me. Didn’t seem as much of a challenge... Just wasn’t as fascinating.
Oh, great, I thought Malfoy was fascinating.
“Morning!” a familiar laughing voice said from my right. “What’s up?”
I looked at Drew, unsmiling, and looked pointedly at the cloudy ceiling as she took the seat next to me.
She chuckled. “I meant beside the ceiling... Are you thinking strategy?”
“What strategy?” I questioned artlessly.
“Strategy about your ‘lil dare, idiot.”
“Strategy!?” I scowled, disgruntled. “I’m not planning anything! No effort, no nothing.” I folded my arms tightly across my chest. “I never flirt, and I’m not going to do it now, not for Malfoy.” I gritted my teeth.
“Flirting’s not going to work, Ginny!” she laughed, taking a swig at her orange juice and then dipping a bit of toast in it – at which I wrinkled my nose. “You think if pug-face Parkinson’s flirting didn’t work, your inexperienced courting is going to work?”
I looked at the noxious blonde at the Slyth table. “Hmm...Guess not.” She had a point.
“If anything works, it’ll just be...well, being you,” she mused, that wicked glint in her bright blue eyes.
“Of course I’ll be me,” I huffed. “I’m not wasting any efforts on Draco Malfoy. If that doesn’t work, then...” I gulped. “I give up. That’s it.” I tried to shrug nonchalantly.
She wasn’t fooled. “You feisty grrrl, you!” She teased, her eyes dancing as I got up from the table, rolling my eyes. “Seeya at Potions.”
“Sure.” I stomped out the Great Hall, deciding I would be feisty. And it was like she was out to annoy me these days, really. She was a nut.
When I heaved aside the large, heavy iron door leading to the underground Potions’ dungeon, the place was only about half full. Drew waved cheerfully at me, and I gratefully took the seat next to her, for now at least not disgruntled.
“Ginny,” she said urgently, as soon as I sank onto the chair. “Look there.”
I searched the heads in the direction she was pointing at. “What?”
“Draco, Ginny! Look at him! He’s there!”
Though I didn’t really want to, half-afraid that I might feel excited at seeing him again, I looked in the direction of her eager gaze.
He sat back in his seat, looking haughtily relaxed and a bit bored. His white blond hair was done in a casual ponytail, that hung just above his muscular looking shoulders, leaving little silver strands to frame his, well... bewitching face.
How come I’d never noticed him before? I found myself chastising myself that I hadn’t made better use of the last few years.
“Well? What are you going to say about that?”
“He’s nice-looking, Drew,” I admitted, struggling to make the comment a little less conspicuous and be honest at the same time, looking away from him before I did anything really stupid. Like walking to him and touching his face.
Drew snorted. “Hah. Nice-looking.” Her expression was a little annoyed, incredulous... and awed as she glanced back at Malfoy. “Really, Ginny.”
I frowned at her, and looked away, staring straight ahead.
Just then, the wonderful man named Severus Snape stormed into the dungeon with that way he had, his cloak flying behind him like a cape.
“Shut all of your books, we have a practical class today,” he said crisply, shaking his head to get the curtain of silky black hair from his eyes, his bone white skin seeming to glow faintly in the dim light of this dungeon.
I heard Hermione sigh wistfully from behind me. “Ooh...what a voice.” and Lavender’s giggle in assent.
Most of the girls thought Snape was enthralling. Most of them, except for me... well, I thought he was sort of intriguing, too, but I couldn’t crush on him, like Hermione largely did. That was probably because he always picked on me. I was kind of intrigued by him... the way you could find you couldn’t take your eyes off a large spider scuttling up a wall. Fascinated, but in a slightly repulsive way.
“Now.” Snape clapped his long, slender hands, and rubbed them together, his inky eyes gleaming. “Being a supposedly senior class,” his tone suggested that he didn’t exactly agree with the statement, “I have decided that it is time for you to attempt...”
He turned to the blackboard behind him, and flourished his long black wand at it. In his loopy, cramped, spidery sort of writing came the words – ‘Addicere Liquidus’.
“The Addicere Liquidus is the potion of addiction.” His voice got all low and ominous as he said the last word. “It can make the drinker irresistibly addicted to whatever the brewer wishes. Anything – from chocolate, to a certain person.
“The potion is incredibly complex, but if one has the aesthetic sense, one can appreciate the compelling, seductive fumes the liquid emits; the sultry, sensual aura of its preparation...” His voice enunciated every syllable of the words silkily, making Hermione sigh again, as he sauntered up the aisles. “If only one could appreciate it, the making of liquids can captivate all senses, enthrall all thoughts...”
I remembered him saying something like that before... And it was like he was in love with his ‘liquids’.
Then I guffawed loudly at the cheesy pun in the thought. He glanced icily at me, and then away, like I wasn’t worth scolding.
“So,” he finished briskly, snapping out of his glazed over reverie. “This will take two weeks to stew; three weeks in all to be complete.”
There were a few gasps there, and I felt kind of pained.
“I have decided that I will sort you in pairs of my choice, and you can work on the first stage today.” He smirked, his eyes suddenly on me. “So please do not entertain any hopes of partnering a person you may be... interested in.”
I rolled my eyes. Obviously, he still didn’t know that I no longer drooled over Harry.
“Miss Brown, you can partner Nott.” He pointed with a long, bony finger at the seat next to Theodore Nott. Lavender scurried to the seat, throwing a brief glower at the dark, brooding boy.
“Granger – Be seated next to Miss Parkinson.” I heard Pansy groan magnificently, but of course Snape ignored her. Hermione went immediately to the allotted seat, eager to please.
“Miss Moreno, please occupy the seat next to Mr. Zabini.” Drew winked at me and went off.
I noticed that there was a bit of a pattern in his pairing. It was mostly the person diagonally opposite to anyone. Guess he did not want to waste much of his creativity there. And that would mean my partner was...
“Miss Weasley,” He said in a slightly mocking voice, his sparkling black eyes on me again. “You can partner Pott – aah.” He sneered. “I don’t think so.” He shot a pointed glance at me annoyed expression and Harry’s eager, flushed face. And then he looked away, still smirking, until... his eyes fell on a certain beautiful, silver-haired person.
Oh, joy.
“Draco, would you mind suffering Miss Weasley for three weeks?” he asked politely, that mocking glint in his coal black eyes.
Malfoy shrugged noncommitally, rolling his eyes.
Well, that was encouraging.
Gritting my teeth, I went and sat in the seat, feeling much too aware of Draco lounging casually on his chair, completely ignoring me.
He was leaning forward, his hands clasped on the desk, looking straight ahead. When I turned to see him, my cheeks heated up again, and I looked at his sculpted face... The chiseled, angular features, the blond hair gleaming silver in the mild sunlight...
Oh, he was completely ignoring me. I opposed to that way more than I should.
“Hello, Draco,” I said politely, my tone a little miffed, though.
His fair head slowly turned toward me. I found myself holding my breath for when his eyes would meet mine...
His face was incredulous, slightly disdainful. The wide, piercing grey eyes looked at me shrewdly, his dark lips pressed together.
“It’s Malfoy to you, Weasley,” he slowly, as if he were talking to someone mentally retarded. “But sir is fine, as well,” he added with a little sneer.
Had his voice always been like that? Soft, muted, velvet smooth? ...Sexy?
I gathered my thoughts as quickly as I could. “Oops, sorry!” I said sarcastically. “Would 'Your Highness' do?”
“Perfect,” he smirked slightly, his eyes still sort of tight. “But I can’t be bothered to remind you, so don’t forget.”
I snorted. “I’m overjoyed to see you, too, Malfoy.”
He stared penetratingly at me for a moment more, his glowing silver eyes narrowed. And then he looked back forward, with an air like it wasn’t worth it to look at me anymore.
I heard a chuckle from behind me, a finger poking my back. I turned and glared at Drew, half-wishing she wasn’t in the seat somewhere behind me. “What?”
She just tee-heed, throwing a pointed glance at the detached-looking Draco. “Have fun, Gin,” she stage-whispered.
And then a husky, pleasant voice from next to her spoke to me. “Hey, little Weasel...”
I looked at the hugely smirking, handsome face of Blaise right behind me. “Hi, Blaise.” My voice was acerbic – the aftermath of the little conversation with Malfoy.
“Aw... don’t be like that, Ginny-gin-gin.” He chuckled while I flushed angrily at the idiotic nickname. Blaise’s eyes moved down my body, hovering very obviously at my bust. “It’s...really great to see you.”
“Likewise,” I said sarcastically, turning away. “I wish you luck, Drew.”
“So do I,” she laughed significantly.
“... Only one porcupine quill, do keep in mind. I don’t have the patience to rescue your worthless lives if you put more...” Snape was saying blackly, pointing vaguely with a bony finger at the instructions that had come on the black board.
I stared at the writing on the board.
Add one porcupine quill to the cauldron, and two drops of its blood to it, allow to soak the quill. Pour exactly three palm-fulls of Essence of Insanity, and wait for the purple bubbles to arise. Do not wait until the bubbles turn pink. Once that has been achieved, add a trickle of Unicorn blood, and simmer under a blue flame for exactly three minutes. The porcupine quill and blood are for the little bitter-sweetness, the Insanity for the proper obsession, the unconditionalness, and the silver Unicorn Blood for the beauty.
It could have been written in pig Latin – I might have understood it better then. I sucked at Potions, I really did. All the bubble and trickle thing really made me see blank.
I glanced around a bit desperately. Most people were already into the work. I could see Hermione working furiously over the cauldron, while Pansy sat staring at the ceiling, puffing her hair out with one hand.
“This is crap,” I heard Blaise mutter behind me.
“No it isn’t!” Drew snapped. “Just because you’re a brainless baboon, it doesn’t mean everyone is.” She put something in the cauldron, so I could hear a loud hissing noise.
“Look what you’ve done now!” Blaise snorted.
“Yeah, and you’re just a genius, right?”
It was rare, hearing Drew in such a bad mood. She must really dislike Blaise. I chuckled to myself.
I stopped listening to them, looking at Draco who was examining his nails in a decidedly beautiful, bored, snobby gesture.
This wasn’t fair at all.
“Malfoy!” I said hotly. “Your hands are perfect, okay? Just try and do something here, for Merlin’s sake.”
I guess it was easier to be rude to him when he wasn’t looking at me.
He turned his head to me slowly, again, fixing the force of his pewter-colored eyes on me. I thought I saw annoyance, disbelief... and a bit of confusion there.
“You want me to do this?” he asked, as though I was suggesting something utterly absurd.
“Well, you are supposed to be my partner.” I answered evenly. “You can make yourself useful.”
“As far as I am concerned, Weasley, I don’t really have a partner,” Draco pointed out.
“That’s a very nice thing to say, Draco,” I said, really mad now. “Okay. I don’t get what the hell I’m supposed to do with all this stuff here,” I gestured at the gross looking ingredients on the side table. “You can... show off how perfectly wonderful you are, and help me out.”
His full, flawless lips twisted a little into a small smirk at my short outburst. “My wonderfulness exceeds beyond the capacity of your understanding, Weasley,” he said in an amused, mocking voice. It was still like melting honey, though. But he reached for the little bowl of sticky things on the side table, anyway.
He threw a faintly exasperated glance in my way, and put one of the little pointy things in the rusted old cauldron. Then he snapped the lid on the bowl, and kept it aside.
Then, he picked up a small bottle-like thing, with a tiny spout, and held it over the cauldron. He dripped exactly two small drops of the deep red liquid into the cauldron.
There was something about the way he used his hands, I noticed, as I watched him like an idiot. His hands were pale, long and slender. He used them in a graceful, sinuous way... using the tips of his fingers when he did something subtle. Like he had a lot of practice doing... sensual things with those hands.
A giggle burst out through my lips at the thought, half hysterical that I was thinking these things about Draco Malfoy, of all wonderful people.
Draco stopped in the step dripping down some acidic looking liquid from his white-pink palms, and turned to look at me incredulously.
I noticed that the glowing silver color of his irises were flecked with a deeper grey toward the edges... like a stormy, intriguing sky.
“What are you so amused about, Weasley?” His tone was skeptical, slightly dubious... like he was doubting my sanity. But I thought I sensed something grudging there, like he was talking to me in spite of himself.
I flushed. “Nothing of much importance, Malfoy.” I looked at the gooey looking stuff in the cauldron. “Go on.”
He narrowed his silver, glittering eyes, and looked back at the simmering cauldron.
Nice. Now I could look at his face, his hands, in peace. I couldn’t even feel disgusted with myself that I harbored such a desire now, with him so close, looking so gorgeous.
It was like my entire body, concentrating on my right arm that was just a few inches from his tall, lean body was tensed for the contact that would never come. It felt electric – I noticed every shift of his weight, every fidget.
I watched him nimbly wipe his fingers on a little white towel. The bubbling liquid in the cauldron was now a pale, sky blue.
“Done?” I asked, surprised. It had hardly taken him ten minutes. Not nearly enough time...
“Yes, Weasley,” he said curtly, inclining his head to me.
“You’re good,” I noted absently, then flushing that I’d just complimented him.
He turned to me, his eyes narrowing in some sort of suspicion I couldn’t understand. “Thank you. I’m flattered.” The sarcasm was biting.
“Ouch,” I said, equally sarcastic. “Sad, Malfoy. Seems to me you’re not that used to compliments.”
He pressed his lips tightly together, and looked at me coldly, the grey of his eyes like deep ice. “You are absolutely inane, Weasley.”
“Thanks.”
He looked away from me determinedly, staring straight at the Snape who was reading at his rickety old desk. I repeated him, folding my arms tightly across my chest, fuming. What was wrong with the guy? Couldn’t even have a decent conversation with him... Stupid git. It was ironic that someone so beautiful could annoy me so much.
The clanging of the school bell just a few moments from then made a different variety of feelings go through me – relief, that I would be away from the force of his personality, his penetrating gaze; a little bit of anticipation that next was lunch, and... a little twinge of regret that I was leaving him, which was just ridiculous. I couldn’t make myself accept the fact that my opinion of the prince of Slytherin had changed so drastically in a matter of a few hours.
The phrase ‘saved by the bell’ flashed through my head as I jumped up from my seat. Draco reclined lazily on the seat, looking everywhere but at me, giving off an attitude that said ‘I don’t care what you do, I can’t even be bothered to be irritated by you’. Or maybe that was me just imagining what he might be thinking. Anyway.
As the class filtered out, I hovered a little, waiting for Drew. Drew stomped over to me, nudging me with her elbow to show that I should keep walking.
I gave her a questioning glance. Her face was intensely irritated. Also a bit... satisfied, which I couldn't understand at all. But mostly just angry.
I saw Hermione walk quickly to Snape’s desk, as he just stood up. “Professor? Um... I have a doubt, on the, er, workings of a bezoar with...”
I snorted, shaking my head.
As we just walked out the door, while Snape stood courteously by it, giving snide comments, a voice spoke up from behind us.
“Buh-bye, Drew...” The husky voice of Blaise said. My head whipped around to see him smiling wryly at Drew’s rigid back.
She grabbed my arm, and pulled me quickly through the crowd, into the Great Hall for lunch.
“You really hate Blaise, huh?” I smirked a little.
She wrinkled her nose. “He is the definition of a moron. Whatever, okay?” She sat down at the table, pulling me down beside her. “Let’s just eat. I’m starving.”
“When are you not?” I muttered rhetorically, helping myself to some shepherd's pie.
Again, my eyes automatically searched the Slytherin table for the certain seraph-faced snob I’d been spending my last lesson with. He wasn't there.
I couldn’t... I couldn’t seem to stop thinking of him, could I? Could this end in... a crush?
Save my soul!
“Thanks, Drew,” I muttered to myself crossly.
“You’re welcome, Ginny!” she laughed, answering me anyway. “But for what in particular?”
I turned to scowl childishly at her. “For your ‘juvenile intents’. You’re going to end up driving me crazy.”
Drew chuckled. “That was my plan all along, now, wasn’t it?”
X
“Yeah, yeah, so what happened today?” Lavender asked eagerly, sprawled on her stomach on the bed after dinner.
“Gah,” I grumbled sulkily, leaning back on three pillows. “Why don’t you ask Drew? She knows. She was sitting behind me.”
“Is the mood for ‘sour grapes’?” Lavender muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. I ignored her, because I knew what she said was half true, and I hated it.
Drew chuckled. “I wasn’t paying much attention to you, Gin.” She was rubbing her nails on an orange stick. “I had my own large problem next to me.”
Doubtless, she was thinking of Blaise. I made up my mind to ask her why she hated him so much, some time. I mean, he was a jerk, but he wasn’t that bad.
“And anyway,” Drew continued, “I want to hear it first-hand.” She grinned widely.
I sighed. It was inevitable, I guess.
“Okay,” I said, my voice weary. “I’m just all the more convinced that he’s intolerable. Nothing else.”
“Details!” Drew and Lavender sang together.
“Nothing!” I said, really irritated now. “I said ‘hi’ to him, and he got all rude about it because I called him Draco instead of just Malfoy. He told me I could call him ‘your highness’, too.” I rolled my eyes.
“I told him to help me make the damn potion, because he was just sitting there like a beauty queen, and he said that to him, he didn’t really have a partner. But... he went ahead and made it all by himself. I told him...” I swallowed. “I told him he was good at it, and he got all snarky over me. I told him that he probably wasn’t used to compliments, and he was nice enough to tell me I was inane. Happy?”
Lavender’s eyes were wide. Ruth and Reira both had the identical, startled expression on their faces, so they looked kind of freaky. Only Drew looked herself, a pleased smirk on her face.
“What?” I was baffled. What did they expect? For him to give me roses and cake?
Lavender was the first to speak. “He said so much to you?”
“Well... yeah,” I answered, confused. “As I said, it was intolerable sitting there.” I didn’t have to mention how beautiful he was... how his hands itself brought naughty little fantasies to my mind, how his piercing gaze could shatter my thoughts. Those were insignificant little details, weren’t they?
“I can’t believe it...” Ruth sighed.
“What?” I repeated, irritated again.
“Well, Ginny...” Drew said, a grin starting to form on her lips. “Every time any girl starts to talk to him – and believe me, they talk to him like he was some pagan god, unlike how you spoke to him,” she chuckled, “the max they can get from him is maybe, oh, something like ‘do me a favor, please, and don’t talk to me’.” She did a wacky imitation of Draco’s cool, arrogant air.
“Yeah, so I’m surprised he took enough notice of you to be rude to you,” Lavender said in a voice that was definitely insulting in its astonishment.
“Ugh! Whatever.” I plumped down my pillow. “The fact that he’s more asshole-ish to me than other people does not flatter me.”
Parvati’s sleepy voice came from under a heavy blanket on the next bed. “Can you turn it down, girls? I’m trying to sleep here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Drew chuckled. “Turning it down now.” She turned off the lights. “We’ll see tomorrow. Right, Ginny?” she said as she settled into bed.
“Tomorrow,” Reira murmured. “’Night.”
“Alright. Goodnight.”
I gave another hard plump to my pillow, and settled in myself.
I couldn’t handle this sudden... desire to please Draco Malfoy. It wasn’t healthy. And the way he’d been in class today... I didn’t feel that much hope of dating him someday. Not when I couldn’t even talk to him normally.
I almost felt like giving up.
But... he was so interesting. Other than the fact that he was incomparably gorgeous, I felt a deep desire to know him. Like there was someone inside all of that arrogance and coldness.
So I’d wait a few more days, I decided. See what happens... If I can break through something, if I can... be nice...
If not, then I’d have to quit this stupid dare.
But quit now?
I couldn’t do that.
He was brutally handsome,
and she was terminally pretty.
She held him up, and he held her for ransom in the heart
of the cold, cold city...
– Life In The Fast Lane, by the Eagles
I was still really incredulous as I walked to the Great Hall. Incredulous that the blush still hadn’t faded from my cheeks; that I kept looking behind my shoulder instinctively in a...(gulp) hope that he would be there... and incredulous that his face was swimming in my mind – the pale skin...the chiseled features – the straight square of his chin, with the little hint of a cleft, the hollow cheeks with the high cheekbones cutting into his face sharply; the full, dark lips. And the eyes – wide, the irises a brilliant, piercing, stormy grey, fringed by long, pale lashes.
When I finally got to the hall without doing anything stupid, my eyes instinctively ran across the tables. Good, Harry wasn’t up yet. It was so awkward being around him. I don’t think... he’d gotten over me, even if I’d told him things couldn’t work out between us, ever.
My eyes also glanced across the Slytherin table as I sat at my regular seat. The only people there were Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle sitting very close together and feeding bits of toast to each other (gag), some warty looking guy I didn’t remember seeing before, and Blaise Zabini – looking pretty cute, actually.
I examined Blaise appraisingly as I buttered my toast. Tall, swarthy... kind of playful looking. Why couldn’t I have been dared to do him? He was extremely annoying in his own way, of course, but there was reasoning with him.
But somehow, that idea didn’t interest me. Didn’t seem as much of a challenge... Just wasn’t as fascinating.
Oh, great, I thought Malfoy was fascinating.
“Morning!” a familiar laughing voice said from my right. “What’s up?”
I looked at Drew, unsmiling, and looked pointedly at the cloudy ceiling as she took the seat next to me.
She chuckled. “I meant beside the ceiling... Are you thinking strategy?”
“What strategy?” I questioned artlessly.
“Strategy about your ‘lil dare, idiot.”
“Strategy!?” I scowled, disgruntled. “I’m not planning anything! No effort, no nothing.” I folded my arms tightly across my chest. “I never flirt, and I’m not going to do it now, not for Malfoy.” I gritted my teeth.
“Flirting’s not going to work, Ginny!” she laughed, taking a swig at her orange juice and then dipping a bit of toast in it – at which I wrinkled my nose. “You think if pug-face Parkinson’s flirting didn’t work, your inexperienced courting is going to work?”
I looked at the noxious blonde at the Slyth table. “Hmm...Guess not.” She had a point.
“If anything works, it’ll just be...well, being you,” she mused, that wicked glint in her bright blue eyes.
“Of course I’ll be me,” I huffed. “I’m not wasting any efforts on Draco Malfoy. If that doesn’t work, then...” I gulped. “I give up. That’s it.” I tried to shrug nonchalantly.
She wasn’t fooled. “You feisty grrrl, you!” She teased, her eyes dancing as I got up from the table, rolling my eyes. “Seeya at Potions.”
“Sure.” I stomped out the Great Hall, deciding I would be feisty. And it was like she was out to annoy me these days, really. She was a nut.
When I heaved aside the large, heavy iron door leading to the underground Potions’ dungeon, the place was only about half full. Drew waved cheerfully at me, and I gratefully took the seat next to her, for now at least not disgruntled.
“Ginny,” she said urgently, as soon as I sank onto the chair. “Look there.”
I searched the heads in the direction she was pointing at. “What?”
“Draco, Ginny! Look at him! He’s there!”
Though I didn’t really want to, half-afraid that I might feel excited at seeing him again, I looked in the direction of her eager gaze.
He sat back in his seat, looking haughtily relaxed and a bit bored. His white blond hair was done in a casual ponytail, that hung just above his muscular looking shoulders, leaving little silver strands to frame his, well... bewitching face.
How come I’d never noticed him before? I found myself chastising myself that I hadn’t made better use of the last few years.
“Well? What are you going to say about that?”
“He’s nice-looking, Drew,” I admitted, struggling to make the comment a little less conspicuous and be honest at the same time, looking away from him before I did anything really stupid. Like walking to him and touching his face.
Drew snorted. “Hah. Nice-looking.” Her expression was a little annoyed, incredulous... and awed as she glanced back at Malfoy. “Really, Ginny.”
I frowned at her, and looked away, staring straight ahead.
Just then, the wonderful man named Severus Snape stormed into the dungeon with that way he had, his cloak flying behind him like a cape.
“Shut all of your books, we have a practical class today,” he said crisply, shaking his head to get the curtain of silky black hair from his eyes, his bone white skin seeming to glow faintly in the dim light of this dungeon.
I heard Hermione sigh wistfully from behind me. “Ooh...what a voice.” and Lavender’s giggle in assent.
Most of the girls thought Snape was enthralling. Most of them, except for me... well, I thought he was sort of intriguing, too, but I couldn’t crush on him, like Hermione largely did. That was probably because he always picked on me. I was kind of intrigued by him... the way you could find you couldn’t take your eyes off a large spider scuttling up a wall. Fascinated, but in a slightly repulsive way.
“Now.” Snape clapped his long, slender hands, and rubbed them together, his inky eyes gleaming. “Being a supposedly senior class,” his tone suggested that he didn’t exactly agree with the statement, “I have decided that it is time for you to attempt...”
He turned to the blackboard behind him, and flourished his long black wand at it. In his loopy, cramped, spidery sort of writing came the words – ‘Addicere Liquidus’.
“The Addicere Liquidus is the potion of addiction.” His voice got all low and ominous as he said the last word. “It can make the drinker irresistibly addicted to whatever the brewer wishes. Anything – from chocolate, to a certain person.
“The potion is incredibly complex, but if one has the aesthetic sense, one can appreciate the compelling, seductive fumes the liquid emits; the sultry, sensual aura of its preparation...” His voice enunciated every syllable of the words silkily, making Hermione sigh again, as he sauntered up the aisles. “If only one could appreciate it, the making of liquids can captivate all senses, enthrall all thoughts...”
I remembered him saying something like that before... And it was like he was in love with his ‘liquids’.
Then I guffawed loudly at the cheesy pun in the thought. He glanced icily at me, and then away, like I wasn’t worth scolding.
“So,” he finished briskly, snapping out of his glazed over reverie. “This will take two weeks to stew; three weeks in all to be complete.”
There were a few gasps there, and I felt kind of pained.
“I have decided that I will sort you in pairs of my choice, and you can work on the first stage today.” He smirked, his eyes suddenly on me. “So please do not entertain any hopes of partnering a person you may be... interested in.”
I rolled my eyes. Obviously, he still didn’t know that I no longer drooled over Harry.
“Miss Brown, you can partner Nott.” He pointed with a long, bony finger at the seat next to Theodore Nott. Lavender scurried to the seat, throwing a brief glower at the dark, brooding boy.
“Granger – Be seated next to Miss Parkinson.” I heard Pansy groan magnificently, but of course Snape ignored her. Hermione went immediately to the allotted seat, eager to please.
“Miss Moreno, please occupy the seat next to Mr. Zabini.” Drew winked at me and went off.
I noticed that there was a bit of a pattern in his pairing. It was mostly the person diagonally opposite to anyone. Guess he did not want to waste much of his creativity there. And that would mean my partner was...
“Miss Weasley,” He said in a slightly mocking voice, his sparkling black eyes on me again. “You can partner Pott – aah.” He sneered. “I don’t think so.” He shot a pointed glance at me annoyed expression and Harry’s eager, flushed face. And then he looked away, still smirking, until... his eyes fell on a certain beautiful, silver-haired person.
Oh, joy.
“Draco, would you mind suffering Miss Weasley for three weeks?” he asked politely, that mocking glint in his coal black eyes.
Malfoy shrugged noncommitally, rolling his eyes.
Well, that was encouraging.
Gritting my teeth, I went and sat in the seat, feeling much too aware of Draco lounging casually on his chair, completely ignoring me.
He was leaning forward, his hands clasped on the desk, looking straight ahead. When I turned to see him, my cheeks heated up again, and I looked at his sculpted face... The chiseled, angular features, the blond hair gleaming silver in the mild sunlight...
Oh, he was completely ignoring me. I opposed to that way more than I should.
“Hello, Draco,” I said politely, my tone a little miffed, though.
His fair head slowly turned toward me. I found myself holding my breath for when his eyes would meet mine...
His face was incredulous, slightly disdainful. The wide, piercing grey eyes looked at me shrewdly, his dark lips pressed together.
“It’s Malfoy to you, Weasley,” he slowly, as if he were talking to someone mentally retarded. “But sir is fine, as well,” he added with a little sneer.
Had his voice always been like that? Soft, muted, velvet smooth? ...Sexy?
I gathered my thoughts as quickly as I could. “Oops, sorry!” I said sarcastically. “Would 'Your Highness' do?”
“Perfect,” he smirked slightly, his eyes still sort of tight. “But I can’t be bothered to remind you, so don’t forget.”
I snorted. “I’m overjoyed to see you, too, Malfoy.”
He stared penetratingly at me for a moment more, his glowing silver eyes narrowed. And then he looked back forward, with an air like it wasn’t worth it to look at me anymore.
I heard a chuckle from behind me, a finger poking my back. I turned and glared at Drew, half-wishing she wasn’t in the seat somewhere behind me. “What?”
She just tee-heed, throwing a pointed glance at the detached-looking Draco. “Have fun, Gin,” she stage-whispered.
And then a husky, pleasant voice from next to her spoke to me. “Hey, little Weasel...”
I looked at the hugely smirking, handsome face of Blaise right behind me. “Hi, Blaise.” My voice was acerbic – the aftermath of the little conversation with Malfoy.
“Aw... don’t be like that, Ginny-gin-gin.” He chuckled while I flushed angrily at the idiotic nickname. Blaise’s eyes moved down my body, hovering very obviously at my bust. “It’s...really great to see you.”
“Likewise,” I said sarcastically, turning away. “I wish you luck, Drew.”
“So do I,” she laughed significantly.
“... Only one porcupine quill, do keep in mind. I don’t have the patience to rescue your worthless lives if you put more...” Snape was saying blackly, pointing vaguely with a bony finger at the instructions that had come on the black board.
I stared at the writing on the board.
It could have been written in pig Latin – I might have understood it better then. I sucked at Potions, I really did. All the bubble and trickle thing really made me see blank.
I glanced around a bit desperately. Most people were already into the work. I could see Hermione working furiously over the cauldron, while Pansy sat staring at the ceiling, puffing her hair out with one hand.
“This is crap,” I heard Blaise mutter behind me.
“No it isn’t!” Drew snapped. “Just because you’re a brainless baboon, it doesn’t mean everyone is.” She put something in the cauldron, so I could hear a loud hissing noise.
“Look what you’ve done now!” Blaise snorted.
“Yeah, and you’re just a genius, right?”
It was rare, hearing Drew in such a bad mood. She must really dislike Blaise. I chuckled to myself.
I stopped listening to them, looking at Draco who was examining his nails in a decidedly beautiful, bored, snobby gesture.
This wasn’t fair at all.
“Malfoy!” I said hotly. “Your hands are perfect, okay? Just try and do something here, for Merlin’s sake.”
I guess it was easier to be rude to him when he wasn’t looking at me.
He turned his head to me slowly, again, fixing the force of his pewter-colored eyes on me. I thought I saw annoyance, disbelief... and a bit of confusion there.
“You want me to do this?” he asked, as though I was suggesting something utterly absurd.
“Well, you are supposed to be my partner.” I answered evenly. “You can make yourself useful.”
“As far as I am concerned, Weasley, I don’t really have a partner,” Draco pointed out.
“That’s a very nice thing to say, Draco,” I said, really mad now. “Okay. I don’t get what the hell I’m supposed to do with all this stuff here,” I gestured at the gross looking ingredients on the side table. “You can... show off how perfectly wonderful you are, and help me out.”
His full, flawless lips twisted a little into a small smirk at my short outburst. “My wonderfulness exceeds beyond the capacity of your understanding, Weasley,” he said in an amused, mocking voice. It was still like melting honey, though. But he reached for the little bowl of sticky things on the side table, anyway.
He threw a faintly exasperated glance in my way, and put one of the little pointy things in the rusted old cauldron. Then he snapped the lid on the bowl, and kept it aside.
Then, he picked up a small bottle-like thing, with a tiny spout, and held it over the cauldron. He dripped exactly two small drops of the deep red liquid into the cauldron.
There was something about the way he used his hands, I noticed, as I watched him like an idiot. His hands were pale, long and slender. He used them in a graceful, sinuous way... using the tips of his fingers when he did something subtle. Like he had a lot of practice doing... sensual things with those hands.
A giggle burst out through my lips at the thought, half hysterical that I was thinking these things about Draco Malfoy, of all wonderful people.
Draco stopped in the step dripping down some acidic looking liquid from his white-pink palms, and turned to look at me incredulously.
I noticed that the glowing silver color of his irises were flecked with a deeper grey toward the edges... like a stormy, intriguing sky.
“What are you so amused about, Weasley?” His tone was skeptical, slightly dubious... like he was doubting my sanity. But I thought I sensed something grudging there, like he was talking to me in spite of himself.
I flushed. “Nothing of much importance, Malfoy.” I looked at the gooey looking stuff in the cauldron. “Go on.”
He narrowed his silver, glittering eyes, and looked back at the simmering cauldron.
Nice. Now I could look at his face, his hands, in peace. I couldn’t even feel disgusted with myself that I harbored such a desire now, with him so close, looking so gorgeous.
It was like my entire body, concentrating on my right arm that was just a few inches from his tall, lean body was tensed for the contact that would never come. It felt electric – I noticed every shift of his weight, every fidget.
I watched him nimbly wipe his fingers on a little white towel. The bubbling liquid in the cauldron was now a pale, sky blue.
“Done?” I asked, surprised. It had hardly taken him ten minutes. Not nearly enough time...
“Yes, Weasley,” he said curtly, inclining his head to me.
“You’re good,” I noted absently, then flushing that I’d just complimented him.
He turned to me, his eyes narrowing in some sort of suspicion I couldn’t understand. “Thank you. I’m flattered.” The sarcasm was biting.
“Ouch,” I said, equally sarcastic. “Sad, Malfoy. Seems to me you’re not that used to compliments.”
He pressed his lips tightly together, and looked at me coldly, the grey of his eyes like deep ice. “You are absolutely inane, Weasley.”
“Thanks.”
He looked away from me determinedly, staring straight at the Snape who was reading at his rickety old desk. I repeated him, folding my arms tightly across my chest, fuming. What was wrong with the guy? Couldn’t even have a decent conversation with him... Stupid git. It was ironic that someone so beautiful could annoy me so much.
The clanging of the school bell just a few moments from then made a different variety of feelings go through me – relief, that I would be away from the force of his personality, his penetrating gaze; a little bit of anticipation that next was lunch, and... a little twinge of regret that I was leaving him, which was just ridiculous. I couldn’t make myself accept the fact that my opinion of the prince of Slytherin had changed so drastically in a matter of a few hours.
The phrase ‘saved by the bell’ flashed through my head as I jumped up from my seat. Draco reclined lazily on the seat, looking everywhere but at me, giving off an attitude that said ‘I don’t care what you do, I can’t even be bothered to be irritated by you’. Or maybe that was me just imagining what he might be thinking. Anyway.
As the class filtered out, I hovered a little, waiting for Drew. Drew stomped over to me, nudging me with her elbow to show that I should keep walking.
I gave her a questioning glance. Her face was intensely irritated. Also a bit... satisfied, which I couldn't understand at all. But mostly just angry.
I saw Hermione walk quickly to Snape’s desk, as he just stood up. “Professor? Um... I have a doubt, on the, er, workings of a bezoar with...”
I snorted, shaking my head.
As we just walked out the door, while Snape stood courteously by it, giving snide comments, a voice spoke up from behind us.
“Buh-bye, Drew...” The husky voice of Blaise said. My head whipped around to see him smiling wryly at Drew’s rigid back.
She grabbed my arm, and pulled me quickly through the crowd, into the Great Hall for lunch.
“You really hate Blaise, huh?” I smirked a little.
She wrinkled her nose. “He is the definition of a moron. Whatever, okay?” She sat down at the table, pulling me down beside her. “Let’s just eat. I’m starving.”
“When are you not?” I muttered rhetorically, helping myself to some shepherd's pie.
Again, my eyes automatically searched the Slytherin table for the certain seraph-faced snob I’d been spending my last lesson with. He wasn't there.
I couldn’t... I couldn’t seem to stop thinking of him, could I? Could this end in... a crush?
Save my soul!
“Thanks, Drew,” I muttered to myself crossly.
“You’re welcome, Ginny!” she laughed, answering me anyway. “But for what in particular?”
I turned to scowl childishly at her. “For your ‘juvenile intents’. You’re going to end up driving me crazy.”
Drew chuckled. “That was my plan all along, now, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah, so what happened today?” Lavender asked eagerly, sprawled on her stomach on the bed after dinner.
“Gah,” I grumbled sulkily, leaning back on three pillows. “Why don’t you ask Drew? She knows. She was sitting behind me.”
“Is the mood for ‘sour grapes’?” Lavender muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. I ignored her, because I knew what she said was half true, and I hated it.
Drew chuckled. “I wasn’t paying much attention to you, Gin.” She was rubbing her nails on an orange stick. “I had my own large problem next to me.”
Doubtless, she was thinking of Blaise. I made up my mind to ask her why she hated him so much, some time. I mean, he was a jerk, but he wasn’t that bad.
“And anyway,” Drew continued, “I want to hear it first-hand.” She grinned widely.
I sighed. It was inevitable, I guess.
“Okay,” I said, my voice weary. “I’m just all the more convinced that he’s intolerable. Nothing else.”
“Details!” Drew and Lavender sang together.
“Nothing!” I said, really irritated now. “I said ‘hi’ to him, and he got all rude about it because I called him Draco instead of just Malfoy. He told me I could call him ‘your highness’, too.” I rolled my eyes.
“I told him to help me make the damn potion, because he was just sitting there like a beauty queen, and he said that to him, he didn’t really have a partner. But... he went ahead and made it all by himself. I told him...” I swallowed. “I told him he was good at it, and he got all snarky over me. I told him that he probably wasn’t used to compliments, and he was nice enough to tell me I was inane. Happy?”
Lavender’s eyes were wide. Ruth and Reira both had the identical, startled expression on their faces, so they looked kind of freaky. Only Drew looked herself, a pleased smirk on her face.
“What?” I was baffled. What did they expect? For him to give me roses and cake?
Lavender was the first to speak. “He said so much to you?”
“Well... yeah,” I answered, confused. “As I said, it was intolerable sitting there.” I didn’t have to mention how beautiful he was... how his hands itself brought naughty little fantasies to my mind, how his piercing gaze could shatter my thoughts. Those were insignificant little details, weren’t they?
“I can’t believe it...” Ruth sighed.
“What?” I repeated, irritated again.
“Well, Ginny...” Drew said, a grin starting to form on her lips. “Every time any girl starts to talk to him – and believe me, they talk to him like he was some pagan god, unlike how you spoke to him,” she chuckled, “the max they can get from him is maybe, oh, something like ‘do me a favor, please, and don’t talk to me’.” She did a wacky imitation of Draco’s cool, arrogant air.
“Yeah, so I’m surprised he took enough notice of you to be rude to you,” Lavender said in a voice that was definitely insulting in its astonishment.
“Ugh! Whatever.” I plumped down my pillow. “The fact that he’s more asshole-ish to me than other people does not flatter me.”
Parvati’s sleepy voice came from under a heavy blanket on the next bed. “Can you turn it down, girls? I’m trying to sleep here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Drew chuckled. “Turning it down now.” She turned off the lights. “We’ll see tomorrow. Right, Ginny?” she said as she settled into bed.
“Tomorrow,” Reira murmured. “’Night.”
“Alright. Goodnight.”
I gave another hard plump to my pillow, and settled in myself.
I couldn’t handle this sudden... desire to please Draco Malfoy. It wasn’t healthy. And the way he’d been in class today... I didn’t feel that much hope of dating him someday. Not when I couldn’t even talk to him normally.
I almost felt like giving up.
But... he was so interesting. Other than the fact that he was incomparably gorgeous, I felt a deep desire to know him. Like there was someone inside all of that arrogance and coldness.
So I’d wait a few more days, I decided. See what happens... If I can break through something, if I can... be nice...
If not, then I’d have to quit this stupid dare.
But quit now?
I couldn’t do that.
To Be Continued.
starlit skyes is the author of 5 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 8 members. Members who liked Do I Dare? also liked 335 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 8 members. Members who liked Do I Dare? also liked 335 other stories.
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