"You agreed to what?
Telling Hermione that she had plans with Draco Malfoy this evening had been an event in its own.
"Mione, I don't know what I'm doing," Ginny said, burying her face in her hands. "I can't stand that snotty little git, but I'm really excited! I don't like him, but he's so different from Harry, and honestly, Harry is the last person that I have any desire to be around!" She gave her friend a pleading look. "Do you know why I broke up with Harry? Did he tell you?" At the shake of her head, Ginny smiled. "Figures. He wouldn't want Ron to know that he won't stop trying to shag me."
Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. "He knows you're not interested in that right now!"
"That's my point! Harry knows me so well, and he says he loves me, and he still doesn't care that I don't want to have sex with him!" She pressed her fingers to her eyes, attempting to relieve the tension she was feeling. "I don't like Draco; I don't, but I think that maybe he might be able to take my mind off of things. And Harry hasn't come back to me, begging me to forgive him, so what choice do I have here? How can I sit through another party, watching Lavender and Padma and Parvati and Romilda fawn over the love of my life? I won't do it!"
The older girl stood and walked beside where Ginny was sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed. She knelt down, leveling her eyes with Ginny's. "Listen, Gin, I'm your friend. Harry has been my best friend since we were eleven-year-old kids, but he doesn't get me sometimes. It's not the same." She took a deep breath and held onto her friend's hand. "Even though I love Harry, I support you in whatever it is you choose to do for you." She paused again. "What do you need help with?"
Ginny smiled fondly at her friend. "Make me beautiful."
An hour later found the two girls, still in the Sixth-Year Girls dormitory. Ginny stood before the floor-length mirror on the wall, and Hermione was sitting on her bed, looking at her friend.
Because Ginny had no idea where Draco was taking her that evening, she wasn't sure what to wear. She didn't want to be too casual, in case he took her somewhere fancy or formal, but she also didn't want to be presumptuous and dress in something overly formal. For all she knew, they were going to stay in the Room of Requirement and play Exploding Snap, though this she doubted. If there was one thing that she did know about Draco Malfoy, it was that he never did anything half-way. If he said he was going to show her a good time, she tended to think he would be doing just that.
Hermione perused their combined wardrobes, in search of something fun, flirty, and casual, as well as stunning and a little dressy, as per Ginny's specific qualifications. It had been difficult, but both girls were satisfied with the final result. The jeans that Hermione had found were dark, and they slung low across her hips. The older girl also found a black top that sat like a regular shirt on the right side, but began to slant downward across the chest and under the left arm, leaving her left side sleeveless. She helped Ginny to style her normally straight-ish hair into loose ringlets, and pushed a emerald-studded butterfly hair clip into the left side.
The redheaded girl bit her lip nervously as she studied her reflection. It was seven-thirty - almost time for her to meet Draco. She couldn't decipher why she was so beyond nervous. It wasn't a date, she had no romantic feelings for Malfoy in the slightest, and she also had no expectations for the evening whatsoever.
Perhaps that was what excited her so. With Harry, any time they had done anything together, she expected time to stop and there would be fireworks and everything would be perfect. No matter what, though, nothing that they did could ever meet the high standards that she set for him, regardless of how much fun they actually had. Now, she was going out with someone who she could barely stand to talk to, no idea of what they were even doing, and no expectations of fireworks or the like. It made a comfort zone; she knew that he couldn't disappoint her, although she vaguely got the feeling that disappointment would not be occurring.
She took a deep breath, said her goodbyes to Hermione, and waited until the coast was clear for her to sneak from the common room, undetected by Harry and Ron. It had been easier than she expected, as she noticed as soon as she entered that the two of them were engulfed in a game of Wizard's Chess.
Once she left the room, she knew she was safe, as curfew was not until eleven on the weekends. Leisurely, she walked the stairs until she reached the seventh-floor corridor. In her mind, she envisioned a place where only she and Draco Malfoy could enter. She took several deep breaths, imagining what the room could possibly look like, and a door to the Room of Requirement appeared.
The room was small and cozy. There were two sofas sitting before the fireplace, which was the sole source of light in the room. She smiled to herself as she walked deeper into the room, hoping that she wasn't too late for her meeting, and admired the fine decor of the room. The couches were plush and comfortable-looking, and there were several decorative trinkets around the room. She was thankful that there were not many portraits who could potentially tattle on her for being there.
"Eight o-clock, on the dot," a voice said from one of the sofas.
Ginny knew it was Draco immediately, and she smiled despite herself as she approached him. She sat down beside him. "So, what do you have planned for me?" she asked, surprising even herself that she was not slightly alarmed at the notion.
"Not a thing," he said, assuredly. "I don't make plans, Weasley, I just go with it."
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, then why did we meet here?"
He smirked. "Potter thinks he knows all of the secrets of the castle, but there is one that he may not have discovered just yet," he informed her pompously. He stood and walked to a large portrait on the wall beside the fire. "This here leads to a pub in Hogsmeade - the Hog's Head. We don't need to stay in that filth hole, but we can get anywhere from there." He took a few steps closer to her, extending his hand to her. "What do you say, Weasley?"
"I heard of this place," Ginny said, her voice excited. "It's a Muggle place, right outside of the village. We could go dancing." She smiled brightly at the blond-haired Slytherin boy.
He shrugged nonchalantly, his hand still outstretched to her. "This is your night, Weasley," he stated. "I'm just your escort."
She bit her lip, and then her expression turning gradually into a devilish smile. Ginny took his hand and stood up from the sofa. "I'd say that sounds like fun, Malfoy."
Practically jumping for joy, she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the portrait that he indicated would reveal a passage to Hogsmeade. Ten minutes later, the pair of them found themselves exiting the Hogs Head Inn. Though it was still relatively early, they knew that they had to be careful because this evening was not a scheduled visit to Hogsmeade. Thus, they stuck to the shadows and away from store windows as they made their way toward the outskirts of the village. Draco was consciously aware of the fact that Ginny was gripping onto his hand, though he wasn't entirely certain that she knew she was doing that. Rather than call attention to it, he simply held her hand in return.
It was not a particularly posh place, or at least it did not appear that way from the outside, but it looked inviting enough. It was a one-story building, and the slightly worn sign read, "Village Underground" in glittering, neon lights.
Once inside, Ginny dropped Draco's hand and they sat together at a booth in the back corner of the room. She reached inside the change purse she was carrying, counting her money and determining whether or not she had adequate funds to purchase a meal.
Draco, sitting across from her, reached over, pulling her hand from her bag. "No, I'm paying," he said. "Doesn't look like you've got much Muggle money on you."
She lifted an eyebrow. "And you do?"
He nodded. "Don't worry about it, Weaselette. Anything you want tonight is on me."
Eyeing him skeptically, she smiled and looked down at the plastic-covered menu that sat on the table before her. When the waitress came by, the pair of them ordered, and Ginny went out on a limb and ordered herself a beer. She was surprised when the waitress failed to ask for identification, nor did she even look up from her notepad when it was ordered.
Once the waitress walked away, Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd ever drink."
Ginny looked smugly. "I think you're forgetting all of my brothers," she replied cheekily. "Fred and George rubbed off on me most."
They talked and laughed for awhile before the waitress returned with their food and their beers. It wasn't long before Ginny ordered another, and another, and yet another, and was so pissed that she no longer wanted to dance, although Draco sincerely doubted that in her state that she'd be able to walk.
Glancing down at his watch, he looked up at Ginny. "It's eleven," he said. "Do you want to head back?"
She smiled and nodded drunkenly.
Draco was grateful that he only had one beer because, if he had gotten as sloshed as she, he wasn't sure that the pair of them would be able to make it back in one piece. As it were, he had his arms slung in support of her, and she leaned into him with almost all of her weight as she attempted to walk on her own.
"Really, I'm fine!" she said, giggling, as they walked toward Hogsmeade.
"Want me to let you crawl back?" he asked, sardonically.
A loud giggle escaped her lips. "No, of course not!" she said, wrapping her arm around his waist. "You smell too good for me to let you go."
They walked in silence for awhile. Draco was happy to have her so close to him, even though she was so drunk that she probably did not even realize what she was doing or saying. Still, he couldn't bring himself to release her, and he was enjoying their closeness. Besides, it would have been cruel to let her stumble around, cloakless, in the chilly Autumn night. Instead, he pulled her into him further, supporting her weight as she stumbled through the streets.
"Draco, I want to know something," she announced after about ten minutes of silence.
"You probably won't remember it in the morning."
"That's okay!" she declared. Abruptly, she stopped moving and turned toward him. Her head was tilted back so that her glazed-over eyes could get a clear-ish look at the blond boy. "Draco, how many girls have you actually slept with?"
The question took him a bit by surprise. "None," he answered solemnly. He tried to return her to the supportive position that they had been walking in, but she stood very still, gazing into his eyes. "What?"
"Do you want me?" she asked, suddenly appearing much more sober than she actually was.
He faltered at the question, not knowing if he should answer truthfully and risk her remembering it in the morning, or if he should lie and, once again, risk her remembering it in the morning. Instead, he said, "Ginny, it doesn't matter. I would never take advantage of you when you can barely stand." Once again, he tried to pull her along. Once again, she did not move.
"Am I pretty?"
He closed his eyes, deciding to simply answer the question rather than argue. "You're gorgeous."
She stared at him for several minutes, gazing thoughtfully into his eyes. Her face began inching toward him, her eyes closing gradually, and Draco tensed into a rigid beam beneath her gaze.
He knew how close she was, and he knew that he could reach out and kiss her like he had been dying to do for the last year, but he didn't. He held his place, not wanting to take advantage of a drunk girl in any way, deciding that if she kissed him, he would kiss back. But that was it. He would do nothing more, and he would not pressure her. No, he would let her set the pace for the kiss, but beyond that he would stop her. She was a good girl, and he would not let her make a drunken mistake that would change her forever. He would never be able to live with himself if that happened, and he knew she would certainly hate him for that in the morning.
He knew how close she was, he could feel her breath on his face and his neck. He closed his eyes, patiently waiting. But it never came.
The sound of her retching on the ground shook him from his thoughts. He crouched down beside where she was hovering on the ground, rubbing her back soothingly as rejected the alcohol that had been residing in her stomach.
Telling Hermione that she had plans with Draco Malfoy this evening had been an event in its own.
"Mione, I don't know what I'm doing," Ginny said, burying her face in her hands. "I can't stand that snotty little git, but I'm really excited! I don't like him, but he's so different from Harry, and honestly, Harry is the last person that I have any desire to be around!" She gave her friend a pleading look. "Do you know why I broke up with Harry? Did he tell you?" At the shake of her head, Ginny smiled. "Figures. He wouldn't want Ron to know that he won't stop trying to shag me."
Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. "He knows you're not interested in that right now!"
"That's my point! Harry knows me so well, and he says he loves me, and he still doesn't care that I don't want to have sex with him!" She pressed her fingers to her eyes, attempting to relieve the tension she was feeling. "I don't like Draco; I don't, but I think that maybe he might be able to take my mind off of things. And Harry hasn't come back to me, begging me to forgive him, so what choice do I have here? How can I sit through another party, watching Lavender and Padma and Parvati and Romilda fawn over the love of my life? I won't do it!"
The older girl stood and walked beside where Ginny was sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed. She knelt down, leveling her eyes with Ginny's. "Listen, Gin, I'm your friend. Harry has been my best friend since we were eleven-year-old kids, but he doesn't get me sometimes. It's not the same." She took a deep breath and held onto her friend's hand. "Even though I love Harry, I support you in whatever it is you choose to do for you." She paused again. "What do you need help with?"
Ginny smiled fondly at her friend. "Make me beautiful."
An hour later found the two girls, still in the Sixth-Year Girls dormitory. Ginny stood before the floor-length mirror on the wall, and Hermione was sitting on her bed, looking at her friend.
Because Ginny had no idea where Draco was taking her that evening, she wasn't sure what to wear. She didn't want to be too casual, in case he took her somewhere fancy or formal, but she also didn't want to be presumptuous and dress in something overly formal. For all she knew, they were going to stay in the Room of Requirement and play Exploding Snap, though this she doubted. If there was one thing that she did know about Draco Malfoy, it was that he never did anything half-way. If he said he was going to show her a good time, she tended to think he would be doing just that.
Hermione perused their combined wardrobes, in search of something fun, flirty, and casual, as well as stunning and a little dressy, as per Ginny's specific qualifications. It had been difficult, but both girls were satisfied with the final result. The jeans that Hermione had found were dark, and they slung low across her hips. The older girl also found a black top that sat like a regular shirt on the right side, but began to slant downward across the chest and under the left arm, leaving her left side sleeveless. She helped Ginny to style her normally straight-ish hair into loose ringlets, and pushed a emerald-studded butterfly hair clip into the left side.
The redheaded girl bit her lip nervously as she studied her reflection. It was seven-thirty - almost time for her to meet Draco. She couldn't decipher why she was so beyond nervous. It wasn't a date, she had no romantic feelings for Malfoy in the slightest, and she also had no expectations for the evening whatsoever.
Perhaps that was what excited her so. With Harry, any time they had done anything together, she expected time to stop and there would be fireworks and everything would be perfect. No matter what, though, nothing that they did could ever meet the high standards that she set for him, regardless of how much fun they actually had. Now, she was going out with someone who she could barely stand to talk to, no idea of what they were even doing, and no expectations of fireworks or the like. It made a comfort zone; she knew that he couldn't disappoint her, although she vaguely got the feeling that disappointment would not be occurring.
She took a deep breath, said her goodbyes to Hermione, and waited until the coast was clear for her to sneak from the common room, undetected by Harry and Ron. It had been easier than she expected, as she noticed as soon as she entered that the two of them were engulfed in a game of Wizard's Chess.
Once she left the room, she knew she was safe, as curfew was not until eleven on the weekends. Leisurely, she walked the stairs until she reached the seventh-floor corridor. In her mind, she envisioned a place where only she and Draco Malfoy could enter. She took several deep breaths, imagining what the room could possibly look like, and a door to the Room of Requirement appeared.
The room was small and cozy. There were two sofas sitting before the fireplace, which was the sole source of light in the room. She smiled to herself as she walked deeper into the room, hoping that she wasn't too late for her meeting, and admired the fine decor of the room. The couches were plush and comfortable-looking, and there were several decorative trinkets around the room. She was thankful that there were not many portraits who could potentially tattle on her for being there.
"Eight o-clock, on the dot," a voice said from one of the sofas.
Ginny knew it was Draco immediately, and she smiled despite herself as she approached him. She sat down beside him. "So, what do you have planned for me?" she asked, surprising even herself that she was not slightly alarmed at the notion.
"Not a thing," he said, assuredly. "I don't make plans, Weasley, I just go with it."
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, then why did we meet here?"
He smirked. "Potter thinks he knows all of the secrets of the castle, but there is one that he may not have discovered just yet," he informed her pompously. He stood and walked to a large portrait on the wall beside the fire. "This here leads to a pub in Hogsmeade - the Hog's Head. We don't need to stay in that filth hole, but we can get anywhere from there." He took a few steps closer to her, extending his hand to her. "What do you say, Weasley?"
"I heard of this place," Ginny said, her voice excited. "It's a Muggle place, right outside of the village. We could go dancing." She smiled brightly at the blond-haired Slytherin boy.
He shrugged nonchalantly, his hand still outstretched to her. "This is your night, Weasley," he stated. "I'm just your escort."
She bit her lip, and then her expression turning gradually into a devilish smile. Ginny took his hand and stood up from the sofa. "I'd say that sounds like fun, Malfoy."
Practically jumping for joy, she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the portrait that he indicated would reveal a passage to Hogsmeade. Ten minutes later, the pair of them found themselves exiting the Hogs Head Inn. Though it was still relatively early, they knew that they had to be careful because this evening was not a scheduled visit to Hogsmeade. Thus, they stuck to the shadows and away from store windows as they made their way toward the outskirts of the village. Draco was consciously aware of the fact that Ginny was gripping onto his hand, though he wasn't entirely certain that she knew she was doing that. Rather than call attention to it, he simply held her hand in return.
It was not a particularly posh place, or at least it did not appear that way from the outside, but it looked inviting enough. It was a one-story building, and the slightly worn sign read, "Village Underground" in glittering, neon lights.
Once inside, Ginny dropped Draco's hand and they sat together at a booth in the back corner of the room. She reached inside the change purse she was carrying, counting her money and determining whether or not she had adequate funds to purchase a meal.
Draco, sitting across from her, reached over, pulling her hand from her bag. "No, I'm paying," he said. "Doesn't look like you've got much Muggle money on you."
She lifted an eyebrow. "And you do?"
He nodded. "Don't worry about it, Weaselette. Anything you want tonight is on me."
Eyeing him skeptically, she smiled and looked down at the plastic-covered menu that sat on the table before her. When the waitress came by, the pair of them ordered, and Ginny went out on a limb and ordered herself a beer. She was surprised when the waitress failed to ask for identification, nor did she even look up from her notepad when it was ordered.
Once the waitress walked away, Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd ever drink."
Ginny looked smugly. "I think you're forgetting all of my brothers," she replied cheekily. "Fred and George rubbed off on me most."
They talked and laughed for awhile before the waitress returned with their food and their beers. It wasn't long before Ginny ordered another, and another, and yet another, and was so pissed that she no longer wanted to dance, although Draco sincerely doubted that in her state that she'd be able to walk.
Glancing down at his watch, he looked up at Ginny. "It's eleven," he said. "Do you want to head back?"
She smiled and nodded drunkenly.
Draco was grateful that he only had one beer because, if he had gotten as sloshed as she, he wasn't sure that the pair of them would be able to make it back in one piece. As it were, he had his arms slung in support of her, and she leaned into him with almost all of her weight as she attempted to walk on her own.
"Really, I'm fine!" she said, giggling, as they walked toward Hogsmeade.
"Want me to let you crawl back?" he asked, sardonically.
A loud giggle escaped her lips. "No, of course not!" she said, wrapping her arm around his waist. "You smell too good for me to let you go."
They walked in silence for awhile. Draco was happy to have her so close to him, even though she was so drunk that she probably did not even realize what she was doing or saying. Still, he couldn't bring himself to release her, and he was enjoying their closeness. Besides, it would have been cruel to let her stumble around, cloakless, in the chilly Autumn night. Instead, he pulled her into him further, supporting her weight as she stumbled through the streets.
"Draco, I want to know something," she announced after about ten minutes of silence.
"You probably won't remember it in the morning."
"That's okay!" she declared. Abruptly, she stopped moving and turned toward him. Her head was tilted back so that her glazed-over eyes could get a clear-ish look at the blond boy. "Draco, how many girls have you actually slept with?"
The question took him a bit by surprise. "None," he answered solemnly. He tried to return her to the supportive position that they had been walking in, but she stood very still, gazing into his eyes. "What?"
"Do you want me?" she asked, suddenly appearing much more sober than she actually was.
He faltered at the question, not knowing if he should answer truthfully and risk her remembering it in the morning, or if he should lie and, once again, risk her remembering it in the morning. Instead, he said, "Ginny, it doesn't matter. I would never take advantage of you when you can barely stand." Once again, he tried to pull her along. Once again, she did not move.
"Am I pretty?"
He closed his eyes, deciding to simply answer the question rather than argue. "You're gorgeous."
She stared at him for several minutes, gazing thoughtfully into his eyes. Her face began inching toward him, her eyes closing gradually, and Draco tensed into a rigid beam beneath her gaze.
He knew how close she was, and he knew that he could reach out and kiss her like he had been dying to do for the last year, but he didn't. He held his place, not wanting to take advantage of a drunk girl in any way, deciding that if she kissed him, he would kiss back. But that was it. He would do nothing more, and he would not pressure her. No, he would let her set the pace for the kiss, but beyond that he would stop her. She was a good girl, and he would not let her make a drunken mistake that would change her forever. He would never be able to live with himself if that happened, and he knew she would certainly hate him for that in the morning.
He knew how close she was, he could feel her breath on his face and his neck. He closed his eyes, patiently waiting. But it never came.
The sound of her retching on the ground shook him from his thoughts. He crouched down beside where she was hovering on the ground, rubbing her back soothingly as rejected the alcohol that had been residing in her stomach.
Author notes: FYI: Village Underground is the name of an NYC night club :)
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