Draco was preoccupied. Anyone who had known him for any substantial amount of time could tell this. This meant that anyone who had known him for any substantial amount of time and saw him in this mood would have known to avoid him. Ginny Weasley, unfortunately, hadn't known Draco for any substantial amount of time and so did not know this important nugget of information about his personality.
Emerging from her transfiguration lesson Ginny's bag had fallen open with a shrieking split causing all her books and quills to fall on the floor in a heap. Sighing irritably she waved her friends on and set to piling everything into the ruined mess of her bag. So intent on her task was she that she didn't even notice Draco walking by her.
Pushing his way through a throng of Gryfinndors Draco winced in disgust. It would take him hours to clean his robes of their presence. His mind didn't want to be there, thinking about idiotic Gryfinndors. It needed to be back in the owlery where he'd just set a letter to his mother.
A letter where he'd asked for her help.
Draco knew it was the correct path in life for him. He knew that that was what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He knew that that was what he had always wanted to do for the rest of his life. He wanted to be a Death Eater.
So why was his stomach doing flip-flops?
His stomach stilled to an icy weight when he glimpsed Ginny in the middle of the hallway. He should just walk past her. Ignore her. He hadn't spoken to her since the day she had confronted him and if anything he had gone out of his way to avoid her. A very untypical Malfoy response to a problem. In fact, it was such a untypical Malfoy response Draco had begun to be annoyed with himself for acting that very way.
Draco glanced around the corridor. Empty, typical. Right when Draco needed a bunch of people around they were never there. Ginny still hadn't noticed him, she was so intent on her task. With his earlier thoughts in mind Draco took a deep breath and began to stride past her. His echoing footsteps made her glance up and her lips fell into a frown.
Draco couldn't stop himself from smirking at her. Though he honestly hadn't meant to kick her notebook into the wall. Ginny scowled fiercely and leaned in front of him to retrieve it, blocking his path.
Looking down at her, Draco couldn't resist the insult; "Just what I've always wanted, a Weasley at my feet."
Ginny just brushed the notebook off and looked up at him with too wide, too innocent eyes. "Wow, Malfoy, I never knew you felt like that about Ron," she grinned wickedly, "He'll be absolutely thrilled to find out you've been harbouring a crush on him for all these years."
Draco stifled his laugh. "Well, of course he'll be thrilled," he buffed his nails on his robe, "I'll have you know Draco Malfoy is quite a catch."
Ginny rose to her feet, gathering her bag in her arms. She turned to him and rolled her eyes irritably, though Draco swore that he could see the edge of a grin teasing at her lips. "Sorry, to burst your bubble Draco but Ron's hostility towards you has not been some sort of repressed sexual tension that's meant that his dreams have involved throwing you across the Hufflepuff table and doing dirty things to you over a dish of porridge."
"Or black pudding," Draco said thoughtfully. Ginny stared at him, utterly confused.
"Malfoy, you make little sense to me on the best of days, either that or I just block out half of what you're saying," she shrugged blithely, "but that little sentence made no sense whatsoever."
Draco gave a one shouldered shrug. "I am who I am. And I actually quite like me."
Ginny rolled her eyes again. "That much is obvious, Malfoy." She turned to go, calling over her shoulder, "and I'm afraid that Ron really doesn't love you, you know."
"Ah, young Weasley, it is true what they say; it really is a fine line between love and hate."
Ginny stopped and turned back towards him, her expression mischievous. "With that reasoning you're deeply in love with Harry," she paused thoughtfully while Draco looked absolutely disgusted, and then Ginny grinned brightly, "Or in love with me."
She waved a jaunty wave over her shoulder as she strode down the hall, leaving Draco staring after her.
She had the last word. Again. Draco scowled, he didn't appreciate it when the littlest Weasley managed to win, no, he thought viciously, I let her win, a battle of wits with the Malfoy heir. And so it began. Because there was no way that Draco was going to let her get away with teasing him.
*
The next time he saw her, she was sat on the edge of the lake, reading a book. Her winter cloak was tucked securely around her though and her cheeks were a rosy red from where the wind had bit them. She looked so serene, like something out of a fairytale story that his grandmother had read to him as a child that he was almost loathe to disturb her.
Draco got over that impulse soon enough and walked over to her, purposely knocking her hood down as he dropped onto the frosty ground next to her. Ginny regarded him icily, tugging her hood back up. "Malfoy," she pointedly returned her attention to her book, "what do you want? I swear I'm not giving you Ron's address so you can send sweeping love letters to him over the holidays."
Draco leaned in close to her, tugging her hood back slightly. "Ginny, Ginny, Ginny."
She stared fixedly at her book. "That's my name."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really? I would have thought it was Virginia."
Ginny looked up at him, his expression impassive as he stared over the lake. "I prefer the shortened version, thank you, very much."
Draco leaned back on his elbows still managing to shrug. "You would."
He watched Ginny grow more agitated from his comment. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
Draco didn't change his facial expression in the slightest. "Nothing. It's just that the shortened version is very you."
Ginny threw her book onto the ground in front of her. "Well what sort of name is Draco, anyway?"
From his leaning position, Draco gave a one-shouldered shrug. "It means dragon in Latin."
"I know what it means," Ginny huffed.
"You know Latin?"
Ginny glared at him. "I'm not some unschooled moron. Just because I'm a Weasley doesn't mean that I didn't have to learn the same basic Latin for spells as you, just because mine didn't include Dark Arts spells that would probably get you thrown into Azkaban for the mere thought of them doesn't mean that you're any better than me and…and…" she threw up her arms in annoyance, "don't sidetrack me! Why is my shortened name more me?"
Draco let himself fall back so he was lying with folded arms under his head. "Since when do you care about my opinion? I thought it was as valuable to you as a nicely decorated chaise lounge would be to a Blast-Ended Skrewt."
"I just want to know what the hell you meant!"
Draco didn't flinch at her raised voice. "Maybe I just meant that you're not quite mature," at this he let his gaze wander down her body suggestively, "enough to have such a womanly name."
Ginny coloured and her mouth opened and closed for a few moments in shock. Muttering swear words she pulled herself up from the ground and stormed off still mumbling.
Catching some of her words, Draco yelled after her, a smirk firmly in place; "I'm not Potter! I have no interest in broomsticks being strategically placed there, Miss Weasley!"
*
Draco had decided that if Blaise took any longer to get ready in the morning he was going to confiscate his hair-care products. A devious smile alight Draco's features as he thought of Blaise waking in the morning to discover his Monsieur D'Blanche's ultra-strong styling syrup for men gone. Perhaps he could replace it for something, so that Blaise wouldn't immediately tell the difference. Draco nearly clapped his hands together in evil mastermind delight. Something that would turn his hair blue. Draco got a sudden mental image of Blaise with bright blue hair everywhere and barely contained the giggle that was threatening to erupt.
Ten minutes and ten different hair colour revenges later Draco was starting to lose his patience. The air by the quidditch sheds was bitterly cold and it was only because Draco had wanted to check his broom over first that they had come down separately. Draco blew his warm breath into his hands, this was the last time he helped a friend out. All this practice was preposterous. Blaise could get on the quidditch team by sleeping with the captain, like a normal person. Draco was presented with another mental image and vehemently decided that perhaps the practice was necessary.
"Not like you to stir before any of your fan club has arisen, Malfoy."
Draco jumped and then cursed himself for the weakness as he caught the now familiar smirk on Ginny's face. He was thrown off guard for a moment by her tight-fitting practice robes and provocative position. Draco imagined that she had no idea how alluring she looked stood with one hand resting on her hip, a slight but sly smile gracing her features that perhaps indicated that she knew exactly what effect she was creating.
"Not like you to take notice of my presence," Draco replied, echoing her words.
She cocked her head curiously and went to lean her broom up against the quidditch shed wall. "Well, we've been talking for a few weeks now, Malfoy, I thought I maybe should acknowledge your company."
"Do I have to acknowledge yours?" Draco asked grumpily, his fingers starting to grow numb.
Ginny grinned lopsidedly. "You always do, don't you?"
"Occasionally, I have nothing better to do," Draco grudgingly admitted.
"Is this one of those occasions?" Ginny asked, fiddling with one of the twigs on her broom as though afraid of his answer.
Draco grunted and gestured around the cold, bleak landscape. "Do I look like I have something better to do? Yes, Ginny, I'm stood here admiring the beautiful landscape. I find that I don't appreciate it enough during the hustle and bustle of everyday life and think that to truly see the exquisiteness of the world around me I must woke up at an obscenely early hour and view it through decidedly sleep-fogged eyes,"
Ginny's eyes had widened considerably at this long speech though Draco didn't notice and wriggled his fingers; "Also I appreciate it more when my fingers have frozen and fallen off and I have to use my toes to wave my wand. Though of course I can't do the more complicated patterns so that leaves me with more time to view the miraculous scenery. Of course, this is one of those occasions!" Draco finished his sarcastic monologue yelling.
Ginny looked at him for a moment and then burst into uncontrollable laughter. Draco stared at her in disbelief. "Weasley, whatever is the matter?"
"You," she gasped out, tears of mirth running down her cheeks, "I mean that was the most sarcastic thing ever but it was also the longest thing I've ever heard you say and," she gasped again and seemed to get a hold on her herself, "it was damn funny, Malfoy."
Draco watched her for a moment, his mouth quirking up. "Well, I am naturally hilarious."
Ginny rolled her eyes at him and leaned against the shed, obviously not intending to leave. "Seriously, what are you doing out here?"
Draco watched her carefully. "Why are you talking to me?"
Ginny coloured and stood from the wall, "Because you were stood there Malfoy."
"But after last time we spoke…"
"I've seen you, Malfoy," she cut him off, "you still stare at me. You wouldn't do that if you didn't think I was womanly enough." She leaned into his personal space as she said the last words.
Draco stepped away from her, refusing to be drawn in by the smell of her hair. "Maybe I stare at you because you irritate me so much, ever think of that?"
Ginny didn't seem concerned by this and just shrugged. "Guess that could be it, too."
She still didn't look as though she was going to leave. "I repeat why are you talking to me?"
Smiling Ginny leaned back against the wall. "Answer my question and I'll stop irritating you. What are you doing out here, anyway?"
Draco suddenly saw where she was going with this. "Sorry to damage your ego, Ginny, but I'm waiting for Blaise. The boy is deplorable when it comes to being on time. He spends far too much time fiddling with his hair."
Ginny didn't look particularly crestfallen by the news he wasn't looking for her, she merely looked puzzled. Gesturing at the brooms she asked; "But Blaise isn't on the team is he?"
Draco shook his head. "Doesn't mean he doesn't want to be."
If possible, Ginny just looked even more confused. "But why are you helping him?"
Draco was lost for words for a moment. "Maybe because he's my friend?" he said patronisingly.
Ginny stared at him. "Blaise Zabini is your friend?"
Nearly laughing Draco replied; "Yes, Ginny. I do have them, you know." She looked suitable ashamed. "What did you think we were doing when we sit together in meals and we walk places together talking? Comparing torture techniques? Arguing over whose father owns the most vicious book? Or who has the better hair? Which is me, obviously." Draco said as though the answer was a foregone conclusion. He paused then, as though unsure as to whether to reveal what he was going to say next. "We've been friends since we were children."
"Really?" Ginny asked looking interested in this sudden insight to Draco as a child. Draco meanwhile was smiling fondly, lost in the past.
"Yeah, we'd get in the worst trouble," he laughed. "I remember this one time that we snuck into the village…"
"Draco!" the cry of the boy they were discussing cut Draco off and he turned immediately to his friend, recognising the serious tone in his yell.
Gasping, out of breath, as he drew level with them, Blaise shoved a letter into Draco's hands, casting a curious glance at Ginny as he said to Draco; "It's from your mother". Ginny didn't notice the look directed her way, too busy watching the host of emotions flittering across Draco's face. Draco stared at the letter for a long moment until he suddenly turned and strode up to the castle, the letter clutched firmly in his hand, not sparing either of them a glance.
*
In all his years at Hogwarts the canopy of Draco's bed had changed very little. There'd been the unfortunate incident with the accendo charm in fourth year but it hadn't taken long to restore the heavy green brocade back to it's original appearance. Though Draco had every stitch of the canopy committed to memory, he still found himself lying on his back, one arm flung dramatically out, observing it intently.
Draco felt the letter in his hand like a heavy, leaden weight. He didn't dare read it again as he didn't want the words to have changed. Draco squashed down the lump in his throat that rose up at the thought. Not wanting to it investigate whether he was sickened or happy by the thought that the letter may have changed it's words, Draco closed his eyes and curled in on himself in an hopeless attempt to sleep.
He was going to be a Death Eater. His inner voice laughed at him, of course he was. There were two things that Draco had had his name down for since the day of his birth; Hogwarts and a career as a Death Eater. Well three things if you included the Wedding registry that his mother had insisted on as soon as he was three months old and pushed Pansy over with one chubby arm with, what his mother had called, unbearable cuteness.
Draco didn't count the wedding registry as one of the solid things in his life as there was no way that he wanted to marry Pansy. He liked her well enough but, well, she didn't have red hair. Draco ignored that and sent his attentions back to the letter resting in his hand. He was already at Hogwarts and that left the final piece of the Draco Malfoy life puzzle. And it was lying in his hand. He was going to be an actual Death Eater.
He felt a thrill of pleasure run down his spine. He was going to be a follower of the Dark Lord. He was going to murder and torture. Draco frowned, suddenly sitting upright. Where had that come from? Draco shook his head as though to clear his thoughts and realised that he was crushing the paper. He knew that he would be required to hurt people but it was all in the name of the Dark Lord and that justified it in Draco's mind.
He glanced at the crumpled letter, his mother's neat hand swirling across it in words that held the promise of a future he had always wanted. A future where you'll have to murder and kill. The little voice echoed in the back of his head, making Draco want to bash it hard against the bedpost. He sneered, it would only be mudbloods and Muggles, what's the difference? He'd be improving the world in his master's image. Draco was struck with an image of Granger's face, a face that he had always detested.
She was Ginny's friend. He supposed Ginny might cry if Granger was killed and Draco felt his stomach twist sickeningly at the thought of her pretty face marred with tears. Draco stamped down on the instinct. He scowled as he remembered his conversations, oh what the hell arguments, with Ginny over the past week. He didn't know why he cared if she cried, he didn't even like the girl.
She infuriated him no end. But there was something about the way that her eyes flashed when she was angry and the even prettier way that her mouth tilted when she laughed that made Draco want to infuriate her and amuse her all at once. All in all, there was just something about Ginny Weasley that he couldn't stay away from.
The letter suddenly felt even heavier. She was a Gryfinndor and however pure-blooded her family might be she would always fight for Dumbledore's side. Draco sighed. He was going to be a Death Eater. It was exactly what he'd wanted. It was exactly what he'd asked for.
*