Chapter 4
Breakfast
She thought she might have loved him. Maybe she did for a while. Maybe she still did, even if she wouldn't admit it. Ginny wasn't sure when it happened, only that it started that night in the Snake Pit.
She had never imagined Draco Malfoy making an effort to help anyone other than himself. She'd never imagined him capable of gentleness or kindness. She'd never imagined him capable of caring. Regardless of his snarky insistence to the contrary, she was sure that he really had. He'd stayed with her until she'd stopped being sick, and then he'd administered the sobriety potion again.
She could only remember the night in flashes: a cool cloth against her forehead, long fingers stroking her hair, the rich, spicy scent of Draco's cologne.
Somehow she had made it back to Gryffindor tower that night. Well, almost to Gryffindor tower. She'd fallen asleep almost as soon as the potion took effect, and whichever Slytherins had carried her home had, not knowing the password, abandoned her outside the fat lady's portrait on the hallway floor. She had awoken the next morning cold, sore, and with Neville Longbottom's foot planted squarely in the middle of her stomach.
“Ooch! Sorry, Gin!” His round face flushed instantly as he automatically placed the blame for the incident on his own curse of clumsiness, rather than wondering why Ginny was on the floor to begin with. “Didn't see you there. On your way to breakfast?”
She wanted to say “No.” but Longbottom's appearance was followed, in rapid succession, by her older brother, Ron, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. Any attempts to explain that food was the last thing on her mind- that she really wanted to crawl into her soft, warm bed- would have lead to uncomfortable questions about how she had spent the night before. So, she had gone.
She had just settled into her usual seat at the Gryffindor table when she saw him…
-----
He was staring at her, or rather through her. His pale grey eyes were burning against her skin with all the focus and intensity of a stunning spell, and with nearly the same effect.
She felt heat spreading through her chest, moving upwards to her face. The look on his face was cold and impassive, but it mingled in her mind with memories of the night before- of the glimmer of warmth that had flickered in those eyes like candlelight reflected in silver, and the tender insistence of his touch.
Had Draco brought her home? A thrill ran along her spine at the thought. In addition to the trouble it would have taken, he would run a terrible risk of being discovered by the other Gryffindors. They would never believe that Draco Malfoy might have a benevolent motive, and would quickly avenge what they presumed to be a nefarious one.
She needed know.
Soon.
Breakfast passed with excruciating slowness. Even if she had been hungry, she wouldn't have been able to eat under Draco's scrutiny. Ginny poked a rasher of bacon around her face with her fork, glancing up at odd intervals to find his face- to see that he was still staring. Finally, when he stood to leave, she jumped to her feet.
He was tall- she had never really noticed his height, and his long legs made it difficult to keep pace. Luckily Crabbe, one of his omnipresent goons, stopped to talk to another Slytherin girl, and so she reached him just outside the door to the great hall.
“Draco!”
Ginny watched the secession of emotions on his face: annoyance as he ground to a halt, surprise as he identified her, and then something unreadable. Finally, as she was just about to speak, he glanced behind her, and his features hardened.
“Thank you for last night, Draco.” She said, rather
breathlessly. The flush in her cheeks deepened as Goyle snickered. “For the sobriety potion, I mean.” She added quickly, frowning at Draco's oafish toady. “I don't know how I would have gotten back to the tower without it.”
Draco shrugged.
“I ended up sleeping on the floor.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but Draco merely smirked.
“Must have felt right at home, eh, Weasley? Or can your family not afford floors?”
On cue, Crabbe and Goyle both grunted laughter, but quailed and fell silent instantly when Draco shot them a glare. “Aren't you two supposed to be working on my Charms essay?” He spat.
Their squat, vacant faces twisted into a look she assumed was meant to convey surprise. Tripping awkwardly over their feet, they retreated- presumably to the dungeons to work.
Ginny waited until their bulky forms had disappeared before speaking. “You copy Charms from Crabbe and Goyle?” She asked, unable to control her astonishment.
At this, the edge of his lips quirked upwards. “We don't have a Charms essay due.” He admitted, but it will keep them busy, won't it?”
She wanted to smile. A grin was tickling her face like a sneeze that she was trying to contain, but she managed to suppress it, and offer a look of confusion instead. Her eyes hovered around his shoulders as she was torn between the desire to drink in the face and eyes that had suddenly captured her fancy, with the need to avoid the haughty sneer she was sure would mar his face. Was he angry? Happy? Friendly? Defensive? What was he getting at? Things had been easier when she thought of Draco in black and white.
“So.” She wanted to say something poignant, but it was all she could manage in the end. She looked down at her feet, shifting her weight from side to side. “I guess that's all that I wanted to say.”
Draco made an indistinct grunt of acknowledgment, and she could tell, without looking up, that he was staring again.
Feeling awkward in the silence, she turned to go, but stopped when Draco spoke again.
“You should be careful, Weaslette.” He said quickly. Two days earlier she would have scoffed- dismissing the words as a threat. “Getting drunk around strangers isn't safe for a girl like you.”
“Like me?” she questioned, tempting fate.
Draco didn't offer to elaborate, and Ginny decided not to press her luck.
“See you around, Weaslette.” Draco said, and this time he was the one moving away.
“Yeah, see you around Malfoy.”
He took a step. Paused, then turned around.
“Saturday.” He said levelly, meeting her eyes for the first time.
“Saturday?” Ginny echoed, and even though she knew it was crazy- it sounded like a date.
Breakfast
She thought she might have loved him. Maybe she did for a while. Maybe she still did, even if she wouldn't admit it. Ginny wasn't sure when it happened, only that it started that night in the Snake Pit.
She had never imagined Draco Malfoy making an effort to help anyone other than himself. She'd never imagined him capable of gentleness or kindness. She'd never imagined him capable of caring. Regardless of his snarky insistence to the contrary, she was sure that he really had. He'd stayed with her until she'd stopped being sick, and then he'd administered the sobriety potion again.
She could only remember the night in flashes: a cool cloth against her forehead, long fingers stroking her hair, the rich, spicy scent of Draco's cologne.
Somehow she had made it back to Gryffindor tower that night. Well, almost to Gryffindor tower. She'd fallen asleep almost as soon as the potion took effect, and whichever Slytherins had carried her home had, not knowing the password, abandoned her outside the fat lady's portrait on the hallway floor. She had awoken the next morning cold, sore, and with Neville Longbottom's foot planted squarely in the middle of her stomach.
“Ooch! Sorry, Gin!” His round face flushed instantly as he automatically placed the blame for the incident on his own curse of clumsiness, rather than wondering why Ginny was on the floor to begin with. “Didn't see you there. On your way to breakfast?”
She wanted to say “No.” but Longbottom's appearance was followed, in rapid succession, by her older brother, Ron, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. Any attempts to explain that food was the last thing on her mind- that she really wanted to crawl into her soft, warm bed- would have lead to uncomfortable questions about how she had spent the night before. So, she had gone.
She had just settled into her usual seat at the Gryffindor table when she saw him…
-----
He was staring at her, or rather through her. His pale grey eyes were burning against her skin with all the focus and intensity of a stunning spell, and with nearly the same effect.
She felt heat spreading through her chest, moving upwards to her face. The look on his face was cold and impassive, but it mingled in her mind with memories of the night before- of the glimmer of warmth that had flickered in those eyes like candlelight reflected in silver, and the tender insistence of his touch.
Had Draco brought her home? A thrill ran along her spine at the thought. In addition to the trouble it would have taken, he would run a terrible risk of being discovered by the other Gryffindors. They would never believe that Draco Malfoy might have a benevolent motive, and would quickly avenge what they presumed to be a nefarious one.
She needed know.
Soon.
Breakfast passed with excruciating slowness. Even if she had been hungry, she wouldn't have been able to eat under Draco's scrutiny. Ginny poked a rasher of bacon around her face with her fork, glancing up at odd intervals to find his face- to see that he was still staring. Finally, when he stood to leave, she jumped to her feet.
He was tall- she had never really noticed his height, and his long legs made it difficult to keep pace. Luckily Crabbe, one of his omnipresent goons, stopped to talk to another Slytherin girl, and so she reached him just outside the door to the great hall.
“Draco!”
Ginny watched the secession of emotions on his face: annoyance as he ground to a halt, surprise as he identified her, and then something unreadable. Finally, as she was just about to speak, he glanced behind her, and his features hardened.
“Thank you for last night, Draco.” She said, rather
breathlessly. The flush in her cheeks deepened as Goyle snickered. “For the sobriety potion, I mean.” She added quickly, frowning at Draco's oafish toady. “I don't know how I would have gotten back to the tower without it.”
Draco shrugged.
“I ended up sleeping on the floor.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but Draco merely smirked.
“Must have felt right at home, eh, Weasley? Or can your family not afford floors?”
On cue, Crabbe and Goyle both grunted laughter, but quailed and fell silent instantly when Draco shot them a glare. “Aren't you two supposed to be working on my Charms essay?” He spat.
Their squat, vacant faces twisted into a look she assumed was meant to convey surprise. Tripping awkwardly over their feet, they retreated- presumably to the dungeons to work.
Ginny waited until their bulky forms had disappeared before speaking. “You copy Charms from Crabbe and Goyle?” She asked, unable to control her astonishment.
At this, the edge of his lips quirked upwards. “We don't have a Charms essay due.” He admitted, but it will keep them busy, won't it?”
She wanted to smile. A grin was tickling her face like a sneeze that she was trying to contain, but she managed to suppress it, and offer a look of confusion instead. Her eyes hovered around his shoulders as she was torn between the desire to drink in the face and eyes that had suddenly captured her fancy, with the need to avoid the haughty sneer she was sure would mar his face. Was he angry? Happy? Friendly? Defensive? What was he getting at? Things had been easier when she thought of Draco in black and white.
“So.” She wanted to say something poignant, but it was all she could manage in the end. She looked down at her feet, shifting her weight from side to side. “I guess that's all that I wanted to say.”
Draco made an indistinct grunt of acknowledgment, and she could tell, without looking up, that he was staring again.
Feeling awkward in the silence, she turned to go, but stopped when Draco spoke again.
“You should be careful, Weaslette.” He said quickly. Two days earlier she would have scoffed- dismissing the words as a threat. “Getting drunk around strangers isn't safe for a girl like you.”
“Like me?” she questioned, tempting fate.
Draco didn't offer to elaborate, and Ginny decided not to press her luck.
“See you around, Weaslette.” Draco said, and this time he was the one moving away.
“Yeah, see you around Malfoy.”
He took a step. Paused, then turned around.
“Saturday.” He said levelly, meeting her eyes for the first time.
“Saturday?” Ginny echoed, and even though she knew it was crazy- it sounded like a date.
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