Unofficial Portkey Archive

Ginny sat at her desk with something akin to boredom flashing through her eyes. She yawned behind her hand, hoping Professor Graves would just shut up. Colin nudged her ribcage irritatingly. She faced him with an expression that read, "What?" He pushed over a folded parchment. She carefully opened it.

This is so bloody boring. Are we going to the library fourth period? I need to get something.

Inconspicuously, she picked up her quill, dipped it in ink and began to write.

I can't understand what he's talking about. I also need a book. I-

All of a sudden, the parchment was snatched away into long, pale hands. The only thing Ginny thought was "Oh shit". Professor Graves read it to himself, frowning. He began to curse fluently in French before going back to English.

"You vill `ave detention fourth period with me, Miss Weasley and Mister Creevey vill help me after dinner. Understood? Or am I speaking too quickly for you?" he sneered.

They both nodded nervously. It was bad enough to have detention on the first day, but on first period, too? Ginny was doing Fred and George proud. He turned, making his blue hair squirm. The girls in the class sighed as his cheeks flushed with anger. They thought it to be becoming of him.

By the end of the class, the Hufflepuffs lost 5 points while Gryffindor lost 15, partially due to Colin and Ginny.

"Merlin, that man is a horror," Ginny griped when the class let out.

"Yes, but he's a striking horror," Colin snickered.

Ginny rolled her eyes as Colin poked her stomach.

"What was that for?" she asked angrily.

"Your hat's right there," he leered.

"What hat?" she questioned, looking around.

"Not literally, you twit. I'm talking about Malfoy," he frowned.

"Oh. I knew that," she replied.

"If you want the hat, you should get started on making ferret boy swoon," Colin advised.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," she sighed.

"Let me help you," he smirked, as they got closer to him.

"I don't need your- Ah!" she shrieked as she tumbled onto the blond boy.

She expected to be vertical by now, but she was still standing. Kind of. Okay, she was holding on with a slanted position to the erect Malfoy, who was a bit irritated by now.

"Would you get off?" he grit out.

"Sorry," she apologized, scrambling away.

She ran off, not even noticing that Draco bent down, which gave a pretty nice view of his arse, to pick something up. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment at herself and anger at Colin, who had run away immediately. At least he took her bag with him. She stormed her way past students to Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid.

"Colin!" she called out.

His ruffled flaxen head popped up from behind a tree. He giggled nervously, holding her bag a foot away from his body.

"You're so dead," she glared at the mousy-faced boy.

She reached into her pocket to retrieve her wand to hex the offending lad into oblivion, but found that it wasn't there. Her eyes widened to saucers as she frantically stripped off her robe to check the pockets better.

"What did you do to my wand, you sodding bastard?" she yelled at Colin.

"N-Nothing. Honest!" he responded.

She charged at him to be halted by an outstretched arm. Her hatred filled eyes shot up to the person blocking her. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Missing something?" he queried, cocking his eyebrow up while twirling her wand between his long fingers.

She body relaxed as she held out her hand. He didn't give it back to her.

"Can I get my wand back now?" she asked with forced patience.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins watched the proceedings with curiosity.

"Meet me at the lake during lunch. I'll give it back to you then," he whispered into her ear.

Ginny bit her tongue, counting to ten. Unfortunately, she only got to four before pouncing onto the unsuspecting man. Straddling him, she plucked her wand from his hand and got off, polishing it down with her chemise.

"Thanks, Malfoy," she sneered.

Draco looked up at the petite redhead who was currently glaring at the Creevey midget spitefully. He congratulated her for her bravado as he brushed himself off and hurried past his housemates and various Gryffs to get to his next class. Mortification was not in his genetic make-up, but revenge was. Then again, so was passion and desire. His mind raced with memories. When that little chit had been running toward the mouse, her red hair splayed with anger and her eyes glowed with resentment. He loathed to admit, but she looked quite delicious. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the Weasley thoughts. Alas, things didn't go as planned. Instead of them going away, he had imagined new ones. Explicit ones. Erotic ones. In the middle of a corridor, he slammed his head against a stone wall, instantaneously regretting his cursory decision.

He walked to Transfiguration with his head throbbing and a large bump smack dab in the middle of his forehead. He hadn't quite mastered to art of concealment yet. Bugger.

(A/N: This is just a chapter to kind of build up to the next. Yep.)

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