The library was usually empty by this time of the day. It was a Friday and dinner was already over. Most students were in their common rooms, enjoying the fact that there were now two whole days without class. This was the main reason why she was here. For Ginny, it was much more appealing to sit in an empty library and actually get homework done, rather than endure another Gryffindor House party.
Gryffindor had turned into the party House of Hogwarts. Almost every weekend, students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would come to their common room an hour before curfew, and stay until the wee hours of the morning. Once the party was over, students from outside of Gryffindor would sneak back to their respective dorms in small groups. How nobody had ever gotten caught, and how none of the professors at Hogwarts had yet to hear of the frequent parties, Ginny did not know.
The first few parties of her fifth year had been fun, but by early November, having a ton of rowdy teenagers hanging about was getting to be monotonous. Thus, Ginny decided that this weekend she would skip. Instead of hanging on Harry's arm for hours, waiting for enough people to clear out so that she could fall asleep in peace, she decided she'd rather sit alone in the library. Alone time sounded wonderful.
Her favorite table was in the far left corner of the library, near the stacks. Setting her backpack on the table, she took off her robes and slung them over the back of the chair. She pulled out her Potions textbook and began perusing the shelves, supplementing her textbook. This year was difficult for her in Potions because Snape asked her to skip ahead one year. Knowing that she was a very skilled Potioneer, she agreed. She also realized that this would be a great opportunity for her because she could do Potions research in place of class during her seventh year.
"Oh, sorry!" she said as she bumped into someone between the stacks. She had the bad habit of walking around the shelves with her nose in a book, and so she was completely unaware that any other person was nearby. She looked up to apologize further, but her face quickly turned into a scowl when she realized who was beside her.
"Watch where you're going, Weasley," Draco said with a sneer.
"What are you doing in the library, Malfoy?" Ginny asked. She was surprised that she wasn't alone, but she was even more shocked that it was Draco who was present. It was well known amongst the populous that Draco hardly ever frequented the library because he did not get on well with Madam Pince.
He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Am I not permitted to be here?" he asked irritably. "Maybe you are the one who should be careful. If Saint Potter were to come by, he might think you were sneaking off to secretly meet with me."
Ginny's cheeks reddened slightly. "You heard that?" she wondered, somewhat sheepishly. "Why were you listening in on my personal conversation, Malfoy?" she asked with a bit more conviction after a moment's pause.
"A tip, Weasel. If you don't want anyone to hear you, perhaps you might keep down the volume."
Her eyes narrowed at him. She studied the boy for a brief moment, actually wondering how upset he was at her comment. Desperately, she searched for something to say - something witty or snarky - but nothing ever came. Instead, she weakly said, "I was not being loud."
Draco snorted. "So why aren't you at the little Gryffindor party? I would have thought for sure that you'd have wanted to be shown off by Potter, especially since it took so long for you to finally catch his eye."
"You know, Malfoy, maybe if you minded your own business about things that don't concern you, some people might actually like you." She placed her hands on her hips and looked up to him. "Honestly, you don't know a thing about me, or the type of relationship that I have with my boyfriend."
"What I know, Weasley, is that you pined after him for years before he ever gave you the time of day," Draco said smoothly, taking a step toward her and inching her closer to the bookshelf. "Pretty little thing like you, I'd have thought maybe you would have been able to move on to someone better and bigger." He smirked at her, seeing the nervousness in her eyes at their proximity. "Do tell, Weasel, what is Potter like in bed?"
She lifted her chin. "Jealous, Malfoy?" she asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Maybe you wished you could have gotten to me first?"
"Are you saying that you have slept with him?"
"Maybe I have, but perhaps I haven't," she countered. "Why do you care either way? And why would I discuss any of this with you when you don't even know my first name."
"I am curious, Ginny."
She rolled her eyes. "I haven't slept with Harry, and I don't plan to. I'm saving myself for marriage, and Harry knows that."
"Already planning your white wedding?" he asked, the tone of his voice indicative of his amusement. "Have you begun sending out the invitations? Will I be invited? Let me know in advance if there is a theme; I wouldn't want to appear dressed in the wrong color."
"You think you're something special, don't you?" Ginny asked, lengthening her spine to reach her full height. Her eyes narrowed at him, and she glared with a force that would scare anyone. "For your information, Draco, just because I have morals and I believe in something, that does not mean that I am by any means innocent. I know a lot about you and your history with Hogwarts tramps, and your opinion of my choices does not mean a damn thing to me."
It was Draco's turn to become aggravated. "All you know is what others have said. The truth you do not know." The deadly sound of his voice matched the gleam in his eye.
Not knowing what to say, and not caring enough to take the time to sort through the options, Ginny snarled at the Slytherin boy before stalking away. Truth be told, she couldn't help but feel a bit badly for the last remark she made. Being the only girl in her very outgoing family, she knew what it was like to be stereotyped, and it wasn't fair to make assumptions of Draco based on rumors. Sure, she knew for a fact that he was a vile little git with no redeeming qualities to his personality whatsoever, but that did not explain why. Maybe there was something beneath the surface of Draco Malfoy worth discovering. The way he told her that she knew nothing, and the way she saw that glowering bit of hurt taint his cold demeanor, told her that there was more to him than what everyone thought they knew. The question, then, was this slight bit of curiosity enough for her to pursue. Would it be worth it to be a bit nicer to him and discover what he was hiding?
She doubted it.
Gryffindor had turned into the party House of Hogwarts. Almost every weekend, students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would come to their common room an hour before curfew, and stay until the wee hours of the morning. Once the party was over, students from outside of Gryffindor would sneak back to their respective dorms in small groups. How nobody had ever gotten caught, and how none of the professors at Hogwarts had yet to hear of the frequent parties, Ginny did not know.
The first few parties of her fifth year had been fun, but by early November, having a ton of rowdy teenagers hanging about was getting to be monotonous. Thus, Ginny decided that this weekend she would skip. Instead of hanging on Harry's arm for hours, waiting for enough people to clear out so that she could fall asleep in peace, she decided she'd rather sit alone in the library. Alone time sounded wonderful.
Her favorite table was in the far left corner of the library, near the stacks. Setting her backpack on the table, she took off her robes and slung them over the back of the chair. She pulled out her Potions textbook and began perusing the shelves, supplementing her textbook. This year was difficult for her in Potions because Snape asked her to skip ahead one year. Knowing that she was a very skilled Potioneer, she agreed. She also realized that this would be a great opportunity for her because she could do Potions research in place of class during her seventh year.
"Oh, sorry!" she said as she bumped into someone between the stacks. She had the bad habit of walking around the shelves with her nose in a book, and so she was completely unaware that any other person was nearby. She looked up to apologize further, but her face quickly turned into a scowl when she realized who was beside her.
"Watch where you're going, Weasley," Draco said with a sneer.
"What are you doing in the library, Malfoy?" Ginny asked. She was surprised that she wasn't alone, but she was even more shocked that it was Draco who was present. It was well known amongst the populous that Draco hardly ever frequented the library because he did not get on well with Madam Pince.
He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Am I not permitted to be here?" he asked irritably. "Maybe you are the one who should be careful. If Saint Potter were to come by, he might think you were sneaking off to secretly meet with me."
Ginny's cheeks reddened slightly. "You heard that?" she wondered, somewhat sheepishly. "Why were you listening in on my personal conversation, Malfoy?" she asked with a bit more conviction after a moment's pause.
"A tip, Weasel. If you don't want anyone to hear you, perhaps you might keep down the volume."
Her eyes narrowed at him. She studied the boy for a brief moment, actually wondering how upset he was at her comment. Desperately, she searched for something to say - something witty or snarky - but nothing ever came. Instead, she weakly said, "I was not being loud."
Draco snorted. "So why aren't you at the little Gryffindor party? I would have thought for sure that you'd have wanted to be shown off by Potter, especially since it took so long for you to finally catch his eye."
"You know, Malfoy, maybe if you minded your own business about things that don't concern you, some people might actually like you." She placed her hands on her hips and looked up to him. "Honestly, you don't know a thing about me, or the type of relationship that I have with my boyfriend."
"What I know, Weasley, is that you pined after him for years before he ever gave you the time of day," Draco said smoothly, taking a step toward her and inching her closer to the bookshelf. "Pretty little thing like you, I'd have thought maybe you would have been able to move on to someone better and bigger." He smirked at her, seeing the nervousness in her eyes at their proximity. "Do tell, Weasel, what is Potter like in bed?"
She lifted her chin. "Jealous, Malfoy?" she asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Maybe you wished you could have gotten to me first?"
"Are you saying that you have slept with him?"
"Maybe I have, but perhaps I haven't," she countered. "Why do you care either way? And why would I discuss any of this with you when you don't even know my first name."
"I am curious, Ginny."
She rolled her eyes. "I haven't slept with Harry, and I don't plan to. I'm saving myself for marriage, and Harry knows that."
"Already planning your white wedding?" he asked, the tone of his voice indicative of his amusement. "Have you begun sending out the invitations? Will I be invited? Let me know in advance if there is a theme; I wouldn't want to appear dressed in the wrong color."
"You think you're something special, don't you?" Ginny asked, lengthening her spine to reach her full height. Her eyes narrowed at him, and she glared with a force that would scare anyone. "For your information, Draco, just because I have morals and I believe in something, that does not mean that I am by any means innocent. I know a lot about you and your history with Hogwarts tramps, and your opinion of my choices does not mean a damn thing to me."
It was Draco's turn to become aggravated. "All you know is what others have said. The truth you do not know." The deadly sound of his voice matched the gleam in his eye.
Not knowing what to say, and not caring enough to take the time to sort through the options, Ginny snarled at the Slytherin boy before stalking away. Truth be told, she couldn't help but feel a bit badly for the last remark she made. Being the only girl in her very outgoing family, she knew what it was like to be stereotyped, and it wasn't fair to make assumptions of Draco based on rumors. Sure, she knew for a fact that he was a vile little git with no redeeming qualities to his personality whatsoever, but that did not explain why. Maybe there was something beneath the surface of Draco Malfoy worth discovering. The way he told her that she knew nothing, and the way she saw that glowering bit of hurt taint his cold demeanor, told her that there was more to him than what everyone thought they knew. The question, then, was this slight bit of curiosity enough for her to pursue. Would it be worth it to be a bit nicer to him and discover what he was hiding?
She doubted it.
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