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Draco was interrupted from his daily insult exchange with Blaise by a small commotion that was taking place at the table where he was seated at The Three Broomsticks. His two overlarge cronies appeared agitated; excited, even. Draco followed their line of sight to see them staring intently at a table in the corner, where a lone Hufflepuff girl sat and was currently reaching for a mug of butterbeer. Suddenly, Ginny Weasley plopped down into the seat next to her, grabbed the butterbeer and chugged it down impressively. She grinned at her friend’s mock indignance, and the two began chatting.
Draco watched as Crabbe and Goyle turned to each other, twin expressions of horror on their faces. He narrowed his eyes at them. “What have you done this time?” He strained to keep his cool; for some reason his heart was pounding at the thought that the Weaslette might have been poisoned. He looked over at her, but she was happily munching on a chip while her friend apparently went in search of a toilet.
“N—n—nothing.”
“What did you put into that drink?” Draco demanded. That was not an edge of panic in his voice. He was merely concerned that they might lose points for Slytherin if they did poison another student.
“I just—we just—aaaah!” Goyle was interrupted by an arm sliding around his neck.
It was Ginny, her skirt hiked up two inches and her voice an octave lower. “Well, hel-lo,” she said, shooting a sultry smile at Goyle, who was frantically looking every which way and trying to worm out of her grasp.
Draco was torn between wanting to run very, very far away and wanting to pry her off Goyle. It was disgusting, that’s what it was; that churning feeling in his stomach had to be disgust. He settled for shooting a glare at Goyle.
“A love potion!” Draco huffed at Crabbe, who nodded meekly. “How did you get a love potion anyway? You didn’t brew it yourselves, did you?” Draco felt marginally comforted by the thought that at least they had not, with all their bumbling idiocy, managed to turn a love potion into a poison. Though, looking at Goyle, who was currently squirming uncomfortably while Ginny cooed into his ear, Draco felt like swallowing some poison himself.
“We bought it at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.” Crabbe at least had the decency to hang his head. “It was meant for Susan. Goyle’s fancied her for ages.”
Draco couldn’t ignore the irony of the Weasley twins’ love potion being used to snare their own sister. “Well, fancy screwing up,” Draco snapped. He had no idea why he was in such a terrible mood. It wasn’t as if Crabbe and Goyle didn’t screw things up on a regular basis. It certainly wasn’t because Ginny was now twirling her fingers through Goyle’s hair and giggling.
“We only used a little. And the redhead’s not that bad…” Crabbe ventured.
“What!” Draco practically snarled at him. “Can’t you see she’s a Gryffindor, and a Weasley at that!” Certainly that had to be why he was getting so worked up. Slytherin had an image to upkeep, after all.
Crabbe shut up at this, but Draco heard him muttering about how he wasn’t the one with the Weasley crawling all over him at any rate.
Something had to be done. “Go away, Weasley.”
Ginny looked up from saying something along the lines of ‘Greggy-poo, I love you’ and glared at Draco. “I’m not here for you, Malfoy. I’m here for Greg, and Greg wants me here, doesn’t he, darling?”
“Uh…” Goyle tried but failed to extricate himself from Ginny, who had her arms snaked around his neck.
Draco had so far been successful in restraining himself from going over and physically removing Ginny from Goyle, but his famed control snapped when Ginny tried to settle herself onto Goyle’s lap.
“Let’s go!” Draco barked. “It’s time to get back to Hogwarts anyway. And for Merlin’s sake, Goyle, go back to your room and stay there! Without the Weasel,” he added quickly, in case Goyle got any ideas. He knew that Goyle only had eyes for Susan, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances. With his roommate’s decency, that was.
Goyle finally managed to pull away as Ginny’s grip on him loosened and she looked around, seemingly disoriented. “What—what am I doing?”
They left, studiously avoiding her questioning eyes, and Draco took the chance to lean down and caution in a low voice, “Be careful what you put into your mouth next time, Weaslette. Other guys might not be quite so gentlemanly.”
As they stepped out of The Three Broomsticks, Blaise, who had been watching the whole exchange with amusement, turned to Draco, an eyebrow raised. “I thought you said that you and Weasley were just enemies-with-benefits?”
“We are,” Draco said lightly, carefully avoiding Blaise’s shrewd gaze. He ignored the part of him that thudded painfully at the thought of Ginny telling someone else that they were just that, although they had agreed on it.
“But you don’t like her touching anyone else.”
“I just don’t like to share.”
“If you don’t like her then why won’t you share? I know a couple of blokes who wouldn’t mind…”
“Merlin, Zabini, I have only-child issues, all right!” Draco’s outburst attracted the stares of nearby shoppers, and he glared at them in return. “I have a problem with sharing and that’s all there is to it. And tell those guys they’d better forget it,” he added darkly, all the while wondering where this emotion was coming from. A Malfoy was not supposed to act like this, especially not over a girl, and a Weasley girl at that. A Malfoy was meant to be calm at all times.
Blaise stared at him for a moment and then chuckled. “You, my friend, are in for a big surprise.”
Draco watched as Crabbe and Goyle turned to each other, twin expressions of horror on their faces. He narrowed his eyes at them. “What have you done this time?” He strained to keep his cool; for some reason his heart was pounding at the thought that the Weaslette might have been poisoned. He looked over at her, but she was happily munching on a chip while her friend apparently went in search of a toilet.
“N—n—nothing.”
“What did you put into that drink?” Draco demanded. That was not an edge of panic in his voice. He was merely concerned that they might lose points for Slytherin if they did poison another student.
“I just—we just—aaaah!” Goyle was interrupted by an arm sliding around his neck.
It was Ginny, her skirt hiked up two inches and her voice an octave lower. “Well, hel-lo,” she said, shooting a sultry smile at Goyle, who was frantically looking every which way and trying to worm out of her grasp.
Draco was torn between wanting to run very, very far away and wanting to pry her off Goyle. It was disgusting, that’s what it was; that churning feeling in his stomach had to be disgust. He settled for shooting a glare at Goyle.
“A love potion!” Draco huffed at Crabbe, who nodded meekly. “How did you get a love potion anyway? You didn’t brew it yourselves, did you?” Draco felt marginally comforted by the thought that at least they had not, with all their bumbling idiocy, managed to turn a love potion into a poison. Though, looking at Goyle, who was currently squirming uncomfortably while Ginny cooed into his ear, Draco felt like swallowing some poison himself.
“We bought it at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.” Crabbe at least had the decency to hang his head. “It was meant for Susan. Goyle’s fancied her for ages.”
Draco couldn’t ignore the irony of the Weasley twins’ love potion being used to snare their own sister. “Well, fancy screwing up,” Draco snapped. He had no idea why he was in such a terrible mood. It wasn’t as if Crabbe and Goyle didn’t screw things up on a regular basis. It certainly wasn’t because Ginny was now twirling her fingers through Goyle’s hair and giggling.
“We only used a little. And the redhead’s not that bad…” Crabbe ventured.
“What!” Draco practically snarled at him. “Can’t you see she’s a Gryffindor, and a Weasley at that!” Certainly that had to be why he was getting so worked up. Slytherin had an image to upkeep, after all.
Crabbe shut up at this, but Draco heard him muttering about how he wasn’t the one with the Weasley crawling all over him at any rate.
Something had to be done. “Go away, Weasley.”
Ginny looked up from saying something along the lines of ‘Greggy-poo, I love you’ and glared at Draco. “I’m not here for you, Malfoy. I’m here for Greg, and Greg wants me here, doesn’t he, darling?”
“Uh…” Goyle tried but failed to extricate himself from Ginny, who had her arms snaked around his neck.
Draco had so far been successful in restraining himself from going over and physically removing Ginny from Goyle, but his famed control snapped when Ginny tried to settle herself onto Goyle’s lap.
“Let’s go!” Draco barked. “It’s time to get back to Hogwarts anyway. And for Merlin’s sake, Goyle, go back to your room and stay there! Without the Weasel,” he added quickly, in case Goyle got any ideas. He knew that Goyle only had eyes for Susan, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances. With his roommate’s decency, that was.
Goyle finally managed to pull away as Ginny’s grip on him loosened and she looked around, seemingly disoriented. “What—what am I doing?”
They left, studiously avoiding her questioning eyes, and Draco took the chance to lean down and caution in a low voice, “Be careful what you put into your mouth next time, Weaslette. Other guys might not be quite so gentlemanly.”
As they stepped out of The Three Broomsticks, Blaise, who had been watching the whole exchange with amusement, turned to Draco, an eyebrow raised. “I thought you said that you and Weasley were just enemies-with-benefits?”
“We are,” Draco said lightly, carefully avoiding Blaise’s shrewd gaze. He ignored the part of him that thudded painfully at the thought of Ginny telling someone else that they were just that, although they had agreed on it.
“But you don’t like her touching anyone else.”
“I just don’t like to share.”
“If you don’t like her then why won’t you share? I know a couple of blokes who wouldn’t mind…”
“Merlin, Zabini, I have only-child issues, all right!” Draco’s outburst attracted the stares of nearby shoppers, and he glared at them in return. “I have a problem with sharing and that’s all there is to it. And tell those guys they’d better forget it,” he added darkly, all the while wondering where this emotion was coming from. A Malfoy was not supposed to act like this, especially not over a girl, and a Weasley girl at that. A Malfoy was meant to be calm at all times.
Blaise stared at him for a moment and then chuckled. “You, my friend, are in for a big surprise.”
Author notes: Hope you liked this one! It was intended to be a drabble but turned out a bit longer. I promise that I have been trying with An Introduction to Hormones, but I’m having some trouble with the plot. Drabbles are simpler and fun to write, hence this fic.
To Be Continued.
like a falling star is the author of 6 other stories.
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This story is a favorite of 4 members. Members who liked Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes also liked 309 other stories.
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