Author's note: I'm afraid that this fic is coming to an end. This chapter will be the last 'chapter'-the next will be the epilogue. Thanks to everyone who has kept up with me this far. Your feedback has meant so much.
Disclaimer: I don't own, please.
The Hopefully Non-Magic Diary of Ginny Weasley
Chapter 9
--
December 27
Naturally, one would expect that things between Malfoy and I would be fine now that we have decided we are chums. (Well, a bit more than chums, since I don't think casual friends usually jump each other upon sight.)
Wrong. Malfoy is an inherent jerk. This means that he has some sort of built-in urge to be cruel. He must have been acting nice for too long, because his alarm went off. He sent me a note early this morning, therefore ruining my entire day. He doesn't even have the decency for good timing-not even good timing, merely considerate timing. Do you see the evil of his ways?
Weasley,
First of all, I have a conscience. Second of all, I sent you the diary.
Goodbye,
Malfoy
I feel faint writing it.
--
WHAT IS 'I sent you the diary' SUPPOSED TO MEAN?
--
I really don't understand my unfortunate luck. Have I done something to offend the Gods? If I sell my soul to Satan, will I be compensated? I just want to hurt Malfoy's well-formed face, that's all.
--
What is it with his family and dishing out diaries? Diaries: The new way to tell someone you hate them. Good one, Malfoy family. You guys are inescapably clever. I hope your hair turns pink.
--
Ha. Little Malfoy had the nerve to write me again.
Why aren't you replying? Don't tell me you're angry.
Malfoy
Well! Nothing gets past him, does it? But I suppose I should do what the precious wanker wants-I'll write him back, alright.
Dear Draco Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree Malfoy,
Dying is an option you should consider.
Fondly skipping after you with a kitchen knife,
Weasley
Such finely penned words have never existed. And now to see about that knife. I need a large one-anything too small would never get through his thick skull.
After Breakfast
Malfoy has been trying to get me to look at him all breakfast. What I can't get past is what a stupid blighter he's being. Just when I had accepted and somewhat embraced my regrettable fondness for him; he decides to renounce his Snogging Ginny privileges by telling me the truth? His Slytherin mates would not be very proud. It's not as if they are already ready to pounce on him for helping HP. Too bad even his father has turned against him. The Slyths are even passing around 'Draco Sucks Balls' t-shirts. I'm thinking of investing. Oy, I see Theodore Nott passing them out. Better go persuade him to let me have one. I hope they haven't run out of the orange colored ones.
--
The shirts aren't half bad, you know. In fact, they're lovely, though I think I'm a little biased. The cotton is really soft, and everyone's really getting into the spirit of things. Harry got one in plain white, while Ron chose a disgusting goldenrod color. Hermione is still tentative to buy one. Honestly, the girl's problem is that she thinks things through too much. So I did the thinking for her.
"You don't think that the guy who calls you a mudblood sucks balls?" I asked her. Hermione blinked, and then hailed Nott so loudly, everyone started. After much deliberation, she chose a pale blue.
I must give my compliments to whoever made these-I'm sure they could find a profitable business in making anti-Draco shirts.
--
I see Malfoy. In the same room as me.
He's getting closer. I dearly hope that my hate is radiating. Maybe it'll create a force field around me and will repel Malfoy if he tries to get too close.
--
He. Is. Bloody. Impossible. But I shall try and keep my head while I recollect what has happened. And then I'll have license to chop him to bits if I want.
"Ginny?" he said as his malice-ridden eyes caught sight of my skulking form. "What the hell are you wearing?"
"Can't you read?" I retorted snobbishly. "Everyone knows, Malfoy. You suck balls." Malfoy fidgeted awkwardly and scanned the library before zooming in on me. His pale face (clearly the pallor of someone possessed by Satan himself) loomed uncomfortably close to mine. For a brief and deluded moment, my natural reflexes considered kissing him. Luckily, my wit saved myself from such shame in time.
"Take it off, Ginny," he demanded in a hoarse mutter. "You are a disgrace." I'm the disgrace? He is the one that has betrayed his own kind.
"As if," I whispered back. "I'm going to help bring you down in any way I can, fiend."
"Look, I know you're incensed about the diary thing-"
"Incensed?" I howled. "Your choice of vocabulary fails, Malfoy. I am beyond angry. The flaunting of this shirt is only a tiny fraction of the hatred I feel for you right now. If thoughts could kill, you'd be so far down under that you'd fall out of the bottom of this Earth."
Malfoy must have seen that there was no swaying me-he took a step back and gave malcontent sigh.
"Really, Ginny," he said with a slight whine. "If you're going to wear my doom and demise, at least choose a color other than orange! It clashes with your hair."
"Away with you, you effeminate scoundrel," I declared.
"No, Gin," said Malfoy with a rueful smile. "I'm afraid that's not going to happen. I can't have my girl walking around with a shirt claims I suck balls. Diffindo!"
I gasped and shrieked all in the same breath as my beautiful, orange-hued revenge fell away to pieces. It was a moment too late that I realized I now stood gawking at Malfoy-in my brassiere.
"YOU!" I screamed, exacerbated. "PUT MY SHIRT BACK MALFOY. PUT IT BACK RIGHT NOW YOU STUPID DOLT-"
"Now, Ginny, calm down," Malfoy said. Why was he grinning? What could possibly be so damned funny about being publicly embarrassed?
"I-AM-HALF-NAKED-YOU-GIGANTOUS-ARSE!" I punctuated each word by giving Malfoy a punch in the stomach.
"Yes, the knowledge hasn't escaped me. Shut up, you," he said crossly before his hands flew to his own shirt and he began buttoning down.
"What-what are you doing?" I sniffed, after deciding that my voice had had enough of yelling.
"What? Do you want to walk all the way back to your dorm like this?" he asked peevishly.
"No," I answered truthfully.
"Then keep quiet." As he finished with the last button, he flung off his white oxford shirt and gruffly handed it to me. I looked away, feeling furiously embarrassed, more so than ever. There was a shirtless boy in front of me-how do you think I should have reacted? Besides, I was supposed to be more-than-incensed with him, which meant no sexual thoughts. And I was quite sure that were I to gaze at his body for too long, I would start feeling faint with lust. I hate being so hormonal; it's a bloody nuisance.
"Oh, stop blushing and just take the damn thing!" Malfoy said irritably. "I haven't got all day."
I obliged and-all the while staring at a bookshelf-snatched the shirt Draco held in his hand. I squeaked as someone walked past us and quickly darted in between two bookcases to put on Draco's shirt. Regrettably, he seemed to be still using the same dratted cologne.
"No thanks?" Draco's annoying head appeared from above the table I was hiding behind.
"No," I fumed. "You don't deserve any gratitude. I still hate you. Your shirt smells exactly like you."
"Well, I'm sorry," he said.
"Sorry for which part?"
"That my shirt smells like me." At the heated look that crossed my face, he quickly took back his words.
"Only kidding, Weasley," he said hastily. "I'm sorry I tried to play an evil trick on you."
"Evil trick?" I asked. "So you admit that your intentions were nothing short of hateful?"
"I thought it'd be funny, Weasley-I never thought you'd actually write in it."
"Oh, yes, your sense of humor is really too much!" I said hotly. "Your father nearly killed me with that diary! Imagine what I was thinking when I was told that his son had sent me this one! I felt betrayed-as if all our quality bonding time had meant nothing!"
To my surprise, though, Draco managed to look rueful. He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave a shamed shrug.
"Ah, I'm an idiot sometimes," he admitted. "And I'm a wicked person. But I promise not to do it again."
"Oh, you won't. Because if there is a next time, you'd be repenting in a quite different place-try eating dirt six feet under."
"Oh, Ginny, your death threats are always such a turn on," Malfoy muttered with a smirk. He kneeled down so his face was level with mine, then used his hands to push my shoulders back against the wall, then kissed me. I suppose he is not a complete fool, then. At least he knows how to get a girl to forgive and forget.
We were having a nice enough time, and Malfoy was fully groping my breasts when, unfortunately, the trio decided to go on a field trip to the library. You don't know what a huge turn off it is to hear my brother's voice in a moment of passion.
"Ginny? Is that you back there?" came his obnoxious tones. "What is that you're doing? Who's that on top of you?"
Malfoy jumped off of me like he had been burned, and I struggled to close my (well, his) shirt as fast as I could, but Ron and Harry were already onto us.
"Ginny! What the bloody hell were you doing with Malfoy?" Ron roared, his ears already crimson.
"Studying," I squeaked.
"I don't think so," said Ron tersely, angry lines etched into his forehead. "Get up, Ginny." His fists were clenched.
"Listen here, Weasley," Malfoy began in what he considered to be a reasonable tone. "We were only being a little friendly. No harm done."
I could imagine the effect of Draco's poorly chosen words before I actually heard it. I must work on getting him to say as little as possible in front of Ron.
"NO HARM DONE?" Ron's voice was three times its normal volume, it seemed. "YOU HAD YOUR DIRTY HAND DOWN MY SISTER'S SHIRT-WHO HAPPENS TO BE WEARING YOUR SHIRT! YEA, I THINK THERE WAS A BIT OF HARM DONE HERE, MORON. GINNY, GET THE HELL UP-NOW!"
"OK, Ron," I said petulantly, one hand holding tight onto the opening of Malfoy's shirt while the other grabbed onto the table to hoist myself up. "Don't have a cow."
To this, Ron could find no proper answer, but instead resorted to uttering a string of very obscene words.
"Shame on you, Malfoy," Harry said with a shake of his head. With that farewell, Ron and Harry dragged me back to Gryffindor tower.
Oh, well. It was only a matter of time before the Dense Duo would catch on.
--
Have I ever told you how much I love Hermione? Because I have intense affection for her. She just gave Harry and Ron a proper telling off, and I must say that she has never been so beneficial to me. What a grand friend. Truly. I must remember her birthday next time.
After I tumbled in through the portrait hole, (but not before the Fat Lady complained about my smell) the boys tried to explain to Hermione what had happened.
"Snogging!" Ron bellowed, waving wildly. "Malfoy! Why?" The idiot was so enraged that he could not seem to form complete sentences. It's times like these, when I hinder him nearly speechless, that I am truly proud of being Ginny Weasley.
"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed with a roll of her eyes. "They fancy one another. Kissing is what people do when like each other."
To this, Harry gave a nod of affirmation and smiled smugly as if to say, 'This is true.' Ron groaned in disgust and continued his argument on why I was a horrid sister.
"But of all the boys, Hermione! Why Malfoy?"
"Don't worry," I said lightly. "It's a question I ask myself everyday." All of them ignored me, which is a funny thing, because this is really only my business, not theirs.
"The why doesn't matter, Ron," Hermione said with utmost patience. "You can't stop them, so you might as well get used to it."
There. Why can't everyone have such a mindset? If life throws you lemons-get used to being hit with round yellow objects. What a great sentiment.
Evening
Right. So I think Ron is through wailing for the night. Who knew he would throw such a tantrum? Or perhaps Hermione has baited him with a few chocolate frogs-but either way, there is silence in Gryffindor Tower. I should take this opportunity to try and think clearly. Earlier, when the common room had been a battleground, I slipped outside to finally give Malfoy his present.
"Here," I said as I caught sight of him. I thrust the small package at him and he caught it with a puzzled frown.
"What's this?"
"Your belated Christmas gift. Though you don't deserve one."
"I didn't get you anything," he said truthfully. I rolled my eyes.
"I know. But I also know that you are an insensitive wart and apparently I can't do anything about it. So I guess I'll have to live with it." Sometimes I believe that I am too kind. I waited as Malfoy unwrapped the gift.
"Cologne?" he said with a chuckle. "Is this supposed to mean something?"
"Yes," I said with a smile. "You stink."
"Oh, well. At least I don't suck balls anymore," Draco said.
"True." And with that, we concluded our meeting with a nice snog.
--
Nighttime
My poor, distraught soul! I was sleeping soundly in my bed when I heard a loud, ferocious and fervent tapping at the door. You can imagine the number my heart did when I saw Malfoy's horrible demon creature-I mean, owl, practically shattering the glass with his large beak. I quickly let him in, in fear of the racket waking the other girls. Then I'd have to explain why Malfoy's pet was pursuing me.
Anyway, the stupid animal came with a large parcel. I supposed that Malfoy had felt guilty about not getting me anything for Christmas, so this was to make up for it. With a satisfied smile, I tore the wrapping.
It was another damned diary.
But this one was even prettier than the one I'm writing in now-not to mention that my name was inscribed on the front cover (in GOLD ink, no less.) I suppose there is going to be a decided advantage of having a rich boy on my side. Its dark blue cover is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
But I think, dearest diary, that you'll find what was inside the cover to be much more interesting: It was a little note from him.
I know you've almost filled the pages of the other one, so I figured I'd scare you one more time. Enjoy.
Malfoy
P.S. Be my girlfriend.
Oh God.
Things To Do:
1. Find a boyfriend-Oh, wait, what's that? I already have one! Never mind, then.
2. Find out who sent me this diary-Hang on, my boyfriend sent me it! Silly me to forget.
3. Study Potions-hey, Ginny, don't you have an excellent boyfriend who's fairly adept at potions? Why, yes, I do!
So. In case you still don't understand:
I, GINNY WEASLEY, HAVE A BOYFRIEND. Valentine's Day is going to be absolutely smashing.