To love or not to love, that is the question
Chapter 4: Roses, dungbombs and devious plotting
Already sitting in the Great Hall, Draco looked up when the six Gryffindors came in. They were among the last students to arrive. He saw four heads with flaming red hair and concluded that Ginny's hair-colour was back to normal again.
"Well, that's much better. Black looked weird on her," he thought absently and immediately frowned. Why was he pleased when Weasley's outer appearance improved? Fortunately, no-one at the Slytherin Table could read his thoughts. They would deeply disapprove, Draco was sure. Another thing he was certain of was that he didn't like the amount of time that his brain seemed to concentrate on that Weasley girl. He should be thinking about something else. Like getting to know Potter's secrets as his father had told him to do. But wait a moment... Draco gave the group of Gryffindors a considering look. Maybe Ginny Weasley was exactly the way to get what he wanted. She might not know so much about Potter like her brother and Granger did, but she surely could find out things when manipulated to do so, couldn't she? Her part in the whole 'Heir of Slytherin'-business in his second year had proven that she could be influenced when you knew how. Draco's eyes lightened up at the prospect of his father's praise if he was able to design such a brilliant scheme and make it work.
Yes, it was definitely worth a try.
Not to mention that it might have… possible side benefits.
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Ginny's first glance when she entered the Great Hall went to the ceiling which never ceased to amaze her. Her second glance went - much to her irritation - to the Slytherin Table. There he was sitting, Mr. Death Eater junior with his hair flattened against his head and his ugly cronies at both sides.
"What a surprise," Ginny thought wryly and was just about to turn away and go over to the Gryffindor Table when suddenly, Draco caught her eye. She saw him cocking an eyebrow and then a big, obnoxious grin spreading over his face. He winked at her and Ginny, recalling vividly their last encounter, turned away with disgust, her cheeks gone pink with shame at the memory.
"I hate him! How dare he, winking at me like that, with this dirty smirk! Oh, just you wait Malfoy, you are going to curse the day you've met me," Ginny thought fiercely. She would get back at Malfoy for all the insults he had ever thrown at her family, Harry and Hermione. This year, he wouldn't get away so easily.
Ginny's roommates greeted her excitedly when she sat down on the table. She smiled broadly at the sight of them. Her friends were important to her. They accepted her like she was and they noticed she was there in the first place.
They were four. And very different.
People usually noticed Miranda Davenport first. Full of life and cheerfulness as she normally was, it wasn't surprising that her friends had started to call her 'Merry'. Since her father was a Muggle and her mother a witch, Merry had had the best of both worlds. This girl with light-brown hair and eyes that were almost black was so full of energy that she found lessons too long and boring. Although Merry was intelligent and had great talent in Transfiguration, she didn't have neither patience nor will to study for the other subjects and her grades showed it. However, Merry's vast knowledge about both magical and Muggle world had been a great help to another of Ginny's dorm-mates, Regina Castiglione. Regina, whose grandfather had immigrated to UK from Italy with his family, was Muggle-born and Merry had explained everything about the magical world to her without posing endlessly questions about the Muggle one, as purebloods would probably have done. Regina wasn't as outgoing as Merry, in fact, she was a little shy. However, she could stand up for things she considered important and she certainly didn't lack the famous Gryffindor bravery. Despite that her family originated in Italy, Regina didn't look the least bit Mediterranean with her honey-coloured hair and green- blue eyes. But her Roman ancestry showed in other things. She understood Latin perfectly and like the old Roman divinators, the 'haruspices', she was good at Divination and had a potential for a true Seer (confirmed by more reliable sources than Prof. Trelawney).The other two girls were pure-blooded. One of them was Doria Wilkinson whose aunt Zarah owned the Beauty Centre for Witches. Doria's brown hair and greenish-brown eyes might let her seem like a harmless, normal girl. However, that was deceptive. Her roommates liked to refer to her as 'the Queen'. Being often imperious, controlled and very determined, she really had leading qualities. It was Doria who displayed steely nerves whenever they got into tricky situations. No surprise that she was also among the best students in her year, her favourite subjects being Potions and Arithmancy. While the others liked the thought that they could always rely on Doria, they were far less enthusiastic about her when she was in her cynical mood. Like to many people of high intelligence, using sarcasm and cynicism wasn't alien to her. Fortunately, her friends weren't targets very often. The only one of them who could match Doria in a 'sarcasm rally' was, oddly enough, Regina who normally rather acted as the pacifying element in their little circle.
The fourth of Ginny's friends was Leticia de Valladares. She came from an ancient Spanish wizarding family. With her curls of black hair that went down to her waist and her charcoal eyes, she looked exactly like a fiery Spanish girl, but her character was quite the contrary: Bookworm Leticia was the shyest one in the little circle, dreamy and reserved. She adored Astronomy and - History of Magic which frequently caused the other people to gape at her incredulously. Like Regina, she was good at Latin. She didn't like Defence against the Dark Arts because it had to do with facing dark, unpleasant things and Leticia, having been raised like a princess, didn't like facing unpleasantness. Ginny had always wondered why the Sorting Hat had put her into Gryffindor, but maybe senorita de Valladares had Gryffindor qualities that hadn't come to the surface yet.
At that moment, Merry was speaking, as usual. She was talking animatedly about her stay in France during the holidays and about the Frenchmen's funny eating habits.
"They are cheese-fanatics. Of course, I could live with that," she explained. "But when they tried to feed me snails and oysters, I fled."
Her roommates grinned and Doria asked with interest, "Is it true that you have to eat oysters alive?"
Miranda opened her mouth to answer, but Ginny was quicker.
"Sure," she replied, grinning. "If you are dead, you're not hungry anymore."
Merry, Regina and Leticia snorted with mirth, Doria just stared at Ginny with surprise. Usually, she wasn't the one to make the others laugh. That was Miranda's realm. But Doria's next glance at Ginny was approving.
"Maybe she will finally start being a little more extroverted," she thought.
Ginny wasn't really shy - only sometimes, when Harry Potter was around. She didn't seem to care what most people thought about her, either. In their first year, she barely mixed with her dorm-mates at all, due to Riddle's diary which the others, however, didn't know about. Their relationship became considerably warmer during their second year, but Doria had noticed that Ginny still kept up a certain distance. She didn't seem to trust anyone at all which was illogical for Doria who knew that Ginny had been raised by a loving, close-knit family. She couldn't know, though, that Ginny's automatic mistrust in everything and everybody was a result of the bad experience she had had in her first year.
"But everyone needs people they can trust," Doria mused, watching Ginny as she was laughing at one of Merry's jokes. "Ginny will have us when she finally decides to confide in somebody."
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After the Feast, everyone retired to their respective dormitories. The fourth-year Gryffindor girls stretched out on their four-poster beds with relieved sighs.
"Let's fall into the arms of Morpheus," Leticia murmured with a satisfied smile on her lips.
Her roommates rolled their eyes out of habit. Leticia was known for expressing simple things the complicated way. The girls changed into their pyjamas and soon they were all - even Ginny - peacefully asleep.
The next day was a Saturday, which meant that they could sleep as long as they wanted to. In Ginny's dorm, everyone save her was already up at nine o'clock. She, however, slept on tightly, not noticing her dorm-mates who had drawn back her curtains to wake her up and who were now looking puzzled at the sight of the owl on her blanket. It had brought a vividly pink rose with a slip of parchment attached to it. Suddenly, the owl hooted softly and flew away out of the window which had been traditionally left open in the night. The animal hadn't even demanded the usual Knut. Maybe it had been paid beforehand.
Curious as she was, Merry wanted to take the parchment and read it, but Regina grabbed her wrist firmly and said in stern tones that always reminded her friends of McGonagall, "No. It's for Ginny to read first. Then she can tell us what's written on it if she chooses to do so."
Regina was, too, aware of the fact that Ginny's trust in other people was feeble and that she valued privacy above everything. She, Reggie, was not going to intrude there nor would she let others do it.
Fortunately, Ginny had woken up at the sound of her name. She yawned and regarded her friends with eyes troubled from sleep.
"Wazzup?" she murmured, trying to get their faces into focus.
She succeeded and immediately started to wonder why they were all standing around her bed, looking at her curiously.
Leticia pointed at Ginny's blanket. "An owl has stopped by and left this for you," she explained.
Ginny gazed at the pink rose with surprise, wondering who it was from. She had never in her life gotten a flower from anyone, well, if you didn't count the time Fred and George had given her a rose that pinched you in your nose when you tried to smell it. Recalling that incident, Ginny cautiously picked up the flower and examined it. It looked like an ordinary rose, although Ginny wasn't sure if there really grew flowers in such a violent shade of pink or if the sender had coloured it magically.
"Well?" Merry asked with uncovered excitement. "Who do you reckon it's from? What's written on the parchment?"
The parchment! That was a good idea.
Intrigued, Ginny picked it up and proceeded to read it, holding it in such an angle that the others couldn't get a glimpse at the words. It read, "It might not be shocking turquoise, but judging by your unique taste, I'm sure you will appreciate the colour anyway."
That was all. No signature. Not that it was necessary. Ginny knew immediately who had sent it. She looked at the flower with disgust. How dare he! Ginny felt her cheeks go red as she recalled the incident in Diagon Alley, now for the second time in 24 hours. It had been so humiliating!
"Idiot," she hissed and crumpled up the parchment in her left hand.
Due to her reaction, the other girls' curiosity had grown even more and they were now looking at her with raised eyebrows, expecting an explanation.
Ginny pondered whether or not to tell them about Malfoy. It wasn't their business, after all. On the other hand… if she wanted to get back at him, then she would be needing help. And who would be more convenient for this than her friends who disliked the silver-haired slimy git as much as she did? Ginny took a deep breath and described her last encounter with Malfoy.
Her friends' reaction at the end of her narration pleased her.
"That greasy little pervert!" Doria exclaimed indignantly.
"How dare he!" Merry joined her, eyes flashing.
The expressions on Regina's and Leticia's faces confirmed that they had pretty much the same opinion on that topic.
"Good," Ginny thought and told her friends about her plan to take revenge on Malfoy, which the girls got enthusiastic about instantly.
"Yeah," Merry shouted with joy. "Let's go kicking Malfoy's ass!"
Ginny grinned broadly. "Not that I don't appreciate this idea, but I suppose that other ways of taking revenge would be more convenient here," she said while getting up and changing into her clothes.
"Yeah," Reggie agreed. "Don't forget this is a Slytherin we're dealing with. Therefore, we must employ wit and cunning and design some devious scheme."
Leticia winked at her. "Ah, the Slytherin Expert is speaking."
But Reggie bore the title 'Slytherin Expert' with full right. Her brother Giancarlo who was two years older than her and, curiously enough, magical as well despite their Muggle ancestors, was a Slytherin. He had prevented the usual prejudices to pop up in his sister's mind. In fact, all the Gryffindor fourth-year girls had a far better opinion on Slytherins than their fellow Gryffindors, thanks to Giancarlo and his friends. They didn't think much of the traditional Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry (except when it came to Quidditch) and made the girls understand that most Slytherins were human beings like everyone else, just often misunderstood in their ambitions and confronted with prejudices. The Slytherin sixth-years were usually on good terms with the Gryffindor fourth-years. And it didn't hurt that Giancarlo and his friends were quite good-looking, either…
Basically, Ginny, Merry, Leticia and Doria had learned not to judge a whole House after a few individuals and even though most of the Gryffindors were suspicious about their friendship with Slytherins, some of them envied the girls for being on such good terms with certain members of the Snake House.
Now, their knowledge of the Slytherin way of thinking would certainly help them to plan how to make Draco's life hell. As Reggie announced, they could even ask Giancarlo for advice because he didn't like Malfoy either and luckily for the girls, he didn't consider House loyalty more important than friendship or blood ties. But first, Merry, Ginny, Doria, Leticia and Reggie decided to have a 'brainstorming' in order to come up with some good ideas.
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Draco was quite aware that the rose and the note wouldn't exactly improve his relationship - if you could call it that - with Ginny, but the idea hadn't left him alone and so he had resolved to send them to her. He amused himself with imagining her reaction at his note the whole day and spent it in an unusually good mood. However, if he had known about the new Anti-Malfoy-club (no, they didn't really call themselves that, although they weren't far off), he wouldn't have been so cheerful. True, the girls were Gryffindors, but the fact that their House wasn't known for its cunning didn't mean that they couldn't do some evil planning when it was required.
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The next morning, Draco woke up at the sound of an owl's hooting and saw that a present awaited him on the farther end of his blanket. After giving the owl a Knut, he leaned over to the small, oval package and touched it, forgetting all the Slytherin cautiousness for a moment due to his still sleep-affected state.
Big mistake.
The thing exploded and sent brown stuff spraying everywhere. Draco nearly fainted from the following stench. He gasped in horror. It was unbearable!
And there were no windows in the dungeons.
Unable to clear his mind and think of a spell that would cause the stench to fade, Draco furiously grabbed the note that had been attached to the present and, oddly enough, had stayed untouched by the explosion.
It read, "It might not be Timotheus Troll's Aftershave, but judging by your outstanding taste I'm sure you will appreciate the aroma anyway."
No signature. He clenched his fists. Clearly, she was making fun of him. But that had been her mistake. Nobody made fun of Draco Malfoy and remained unscathed.
"Just you wait, Weasley," he thought, gritting his teeth. "Just you wait."
Draco didn't care that he had originally wanted to get on Weasley's good side. If there was one thing he hated more than somebody messing around with his clothes and hair, then it was bad smell. And this horrendous stench equalled a declaration of war.
However, before Draco could start his devious plotting, he had to face the anger of his roommates who had been torn out of their sleep in such a gruesome way.
"MALFOY! What the hell have you been doing?!" demanded a furious Blaise Zabini, eyeing brown bits with suspicion and wrinkling his nose at the smell.
"Somebody has sent me a Dungbomb, in case you haven't guessed," Draco explained, coughing.
To Blaise's ears, he sounded quite whiny.
"Ooh, some evil person has sent a Dungbomb to ickle Drakie-wakie?" he said with mock concern and immediately went back to his former angry self. "And you are just idly sitting around? DO something, for Salazar's sake!"
It was uncharacteristic for Blaise to show fury so visibly and at any other time, Draco would have made sure his roommate would have regretted his outburst. But since he couldn't stand the smell either, he turned to Crabbe and Goyle who were now awake as well.
"Go to the common room, get ten Bonaers and place them around here. Preferably blue ones. I have the impression that they work better than the others," he commanded.
His cronies grumbled, but obeyed.
Blaise raised an eyebrow. "D'you really think that ten will suffice?" he asked doubtfully.
Draco shot him a withering glance.
"If not, then you will raise your lazy ass from your bed and get more," he snapped and left the dorm for the common room.
The air there was as fresh as after a rainfall. That was possible only with the help of Bonaers. And the Bonaers? Well, those were there only because of Draco. The whole House had to admit that. It was one of the few times he'd earned respect from others by himself and through his own achievements.
One of the things Draco had immediately begun to dislike at Hogwarts in his first year had been the dungeon air. It had been damp, heavy and held the inevitable scent of mustiness and mould. The smell had been everywhere. He hadn't been able to sleep properly and he had hated being in the common room. The other Slytherins hadn't liked the dungeon air, either, but the older ones had claimed that they would get used to it as they had done. However, Draco had suspected they had been too lazy to do anything against it. Several of the few Slytherin Muggle-borns had suggested to buy some air-conditioners, but most of the other Slytherins had countered that they would feel uneasy with such humming Muggle stuff around them.
That truly desperate situation had made Draco take equally desperate measures.
He had decided to do something that would not only serve him, but what would be good for the entire House, refusing to believe that there wasn't anything magical that equalled air-conditioners. And he had been right. After three weeks of library research, Draco had found the solution - Bonaers. Those were little, round fluffy creatures with beady black eyes and fur in every colour you could imagine. They had six feet which they could walk on walls and ceilings with. Bonaers apparently ate filth (a Muggle scientist would have said that they ate the microscopic beings within) and they improved the air quality in the room they were in. Draco had been able to find a shop where you could order them. He had suspected that those animals had been magically manipulated by wizards to clean the air because he couldn't imagine that this would be a natural ability. But be that as it may, soon there had been around thirty furballs in the Slytherin common room. The Slytherins had been mistrustful at first, but the results showed after three hours and they had been truly magnificent. The air had been wonderful. Even the seventh-years had come to Draco the little firstie and spoken their approval, he remembered now fondly, sitting in his favourite armchair near the fireplace and watching a turquoise Bonaer eating up an old cobweb.
Draco grinned. "Maybe I should send that Bonaer to Weasley," he thought. "But then again, let's not be too nice. We're at war, after all."
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