"To be or not to be a Weasley"
Chapter 3: What's in a Name?
By: Adrial
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Much to Ginny Weasley's disdain, there had been meager blood shed during the quidditch match and Ron hadn't even knocked Malfoy off of his broom yet. Honestly, Ginny was growing quite bored. She glanced at Hermione who had retreated her gaze into a colossal book on something or the other; Ginny's vision blurred together as she attempted to read the title. She let out a wide yawn and fiddled with a daisy that had been tickling her elbow for the past thirty minutes.
"Oy! Harry!" Ron was gesticulating wildly to something directly to Harry's left, but before Harry could turn his head to look, a bludger zoomed over his head, barely skimming the unkempt hair that lay there.
"That was close," Hermione mumbled, her gaze still submerged within the text of the monster of a book. Ginny smiled at Hermione's ability to pay attention to several things going on at once. No wonder she could keep up with Harry and Ron. They're both always going in a million different directions. Just listening to the two of them talk makes me dizzy.
Ginny sighed. This was getting out of control. If they weren't going to make the game interesting, then she would just have to step in. Determined, she sat up and headed for the small shed on the side of the yard. She had, after all, been seeker for half of her fourth year while Harry had been banned. Now that they knew she could actually fly, there was no reason why they couldn't let her have a go.
"Look at that. Who know female weasels could fly, too," Malfoy grinned maliciously at Ginny, eyeing her as if he was going to at any moment swoop down and eat her alive like some deranged eagle.
Ginny's grip tightened on her broomstick, but she ignored Malfoy's jeering. Ron broke his oath of civility to his mother and sent a bludger zooming straight for Malfoy's blonde head; Ginny smirked as he barely dodged decapitation.
"Alright, Gin!" Bill exclaimed, zooming past her on his old Shooting Star. She grinned, mounting her broom and kicking off into the hazy, evening air. Her unruly hair flew about her face, but she smiled widely, reveling in the weightless feeling of flight.
"Thought you boys might need a lesson or two in how Quidditch is actually played," She flew past Ron with a devilish smirk and stole the quaffle right from underneath his arm. In a bee-line for the goal across the pitch, she swiveled to miss Bill's attempt at throwing her off course and straightened herself to aim. Fred visibly gulped as she flew nearer and nearer towards him. He wasn't sure if she planned on actually shooting the quaffle or knocking him off his broom. This momentary lapse in concentration afforded Ginny the perfect opportunity to aim right over his head and launch the ball expertly through the hoop.
"Excellent, Gin! They're down 70 now!" Harry called from his perch about twenty feet higher in the sky. Ginny smiled mischievously and bounced the ball in her hands.
"Hey, Potter! Who said I was on your side?" With that, she took off for opposite end of the pitch, quaffle in hand and scored another shot right past Ron's left ear.
Malfoy rose above the game, his search for the snitch halted at the entrance of the youngest Weasley. He eyed the girl quizzically, wondering if she were actually related to the rest of the clan. His cold gaze watched her as she laughed triumphantly at the look of stupor on her older brothers' faces.
Pity...she would have made a decent Slytherin with that attitude, he thought absently, ignoring the buzzing insect flitting about his head. He waved it away with an annoyed scowl, eyes lingering upon Ginny's fiery mane of hair as it did loops and flips in the air in some sort of non-choreographed dance.
"Hey, Malfoy! Whose side are you on? You gonna catch the snitch or just sit there and play with it?!" George bellowed from his side of the pitch.
Malfoy did a double-take. The obnoxious critter flitting on the back of his head had been the tiny golden snitch! He felt like knocking himself in the skull with his broomstick at his lack of concentration, but rather spun around frantically, praying it hadn't disappeared again. But it was too little, too late. Harry had seen the snitch moments before and in a dive that left Malfoy spinning, he'd clasped his fingers around the jittery object and was raising high into the sky to celebrate with Ginny and Bill.
Malfoy refused to watch. Damn Potter. He scowled at the air around his head and zoomed off to the ground. Damn red hair. He slid of his broom, ignoring Fred's voice from somewhere behind him. Damn Weasleys.
He stomped over to where Hermione was sitting and strategically let his broom swing enough to knock her book out of her hands. Her head snapped up, and she gasped.
"Oh! Is the match over, then?" Her eyes darkened as she realized who had interrupted her reading, but before she could respond, Malfoy had disappeared into the house.
Guess I won't have to wonder who won, then.
The victory party consisting of Harry, Ginny, Bill, and Fred had landed on to the ground right beside her.
Harry let the snitch zoom almost affectionately around his head, grinning widely as he clapped Ginny on her shoulder.
"I thought you weren't playing sides, Gin," He said. Ginny grinned as well, "I never said that, did I? I was going with whoever beat the knickers off of Malfoy."
She laughed loudly, breathing a little hard and set her broom back in the shed before joining everyone again. Even Ron was celebrating. Though he was on Malfoy's team, he had shared Ginny's mentality throughout the match. Dusk had come and gone by the time they decided to head back in, but Ginny hung back, wanting to enjoy the summer night alone for a while. The velvety sky blinked with stars as she made her trek alone back onto the makeshift quidditch pitch.
With a sigh, she lay back on a thick patch of grass and breathed in the summer air. Her brothers were used to this habit of hers so none of them made any inquiries and usually left her to her peace. It was something rare and beautiful to her, as she did live with the infamous Weasley twins and at one time four other boisterous brothers, save Percy who was just plain obnoxious.
She reflected on the game, eyes closed against the night hovering around her, visualizing herself flying higher and higher into the sky. She planned on trying out for chaser in the fall. Though she hugely enjoyed winning, she wondered what had distracted Malfoy so much that he hadn't noticed the snitch buzzing around his nose.
She'd snuck a glance at him at one point, noting the ease at which he flew about. He really was an excellent flyer and seeker, but she'd never admit that aloud for fear of being jinxed by Ron for her traitorous remark. She'd heard the girls in her year giggle at the mention of the flaxen haired slytherin, but she'd been so head-over-heels for Harry that she'd never bothered to notice. Her family had never associated the name Malfoy with anything good, anyway. Then again, neither had the Malfoys when it came to Weasley.
She vaguely pondered on the effects a name could have on a reputation. She was a Weasley and therefore poor and red-haired with a fiery temper to match. Draco was a Malfoy and therefore cruel and inhumanly rich. She scoffed silently. She would have given anything to dye her hair purple and take on someone else's last name. To have her own identity and not a generalized biography written on each strand of her tell-tale hair. She wondered if Malfoy felt the same way, but doubted it in the same sense. He was a Malfoy in every stereotypical aspect of the word, and she knew this, but it didn't stop her from wondering...
"Ow! Who's there?!" Ginny scrambled to her feet, though quite unsuccessfully as she stumbled over something hard and fell back to the ground again. Something had stepped on her hair, yanking it back and causing her sudden outburst. And that something was now struggling to stand beside her, ruffling its robes and staring accusingly at the dark lump that was Ginny on the ground beside it.
"Alright, which one of you is there? Damn, I can't even tell who's who in this Godforsaken hole--they're bloody everywhere," Malfoy's voice sliced through the calm air, stealing Ginny's tranquility and making her face burn with annoyance.
"It's Ginny, Malfoy. Now would you kindly make yourself disappear or something? I was in the middle of thinking," She spat, straightening her clothing and standing. She faced Malfoy's dark figure, shadowed by the night and looming over her head by a foot.
"Oh, you," He stated off-handedly, glancing around them for any more of the umpteen members of their family.
Ginny scowled, "Yes, me. Now, please leave," She demanded, wondering if he could tell that she'd been thinking about him and trying desperately to forget the fact that she had ever considered him to actually have feelings.
Draco regained his composure and repossessed his usual regal stance. He saw her hazel eyes glittering in the moonlight with annoyance. He remembered the color from before when he'd been watching her-or, er, watching carefully for the snitch which he must have thought was near her for he would have never been transfixed by a weasel. Or at least that was what he'd been preaching to himself ever since that evening.
"You've really no idea as to whom you're running that bloody mouth of yours off to, do you, Weasel?" He glared down at her, but when she barely even flinched, he growled low.
"What're you just standing there for? Is that thick head of yours too scared to speak?" He crossed his arms over his chest with a bemused smile.
What he didn't see was the burgundy curtain that had fallen over Ginny's face, laced with fire and crackling in the irises of her eyes. She ground her teeth together, fighting to control her temper, a feat she very rarely succeeded at. This time was no exception.
"Do you ever get tired of it, Malfoy?" She suddenly asked, though her peculiar choice of retort was as frigid and had the same bite in it as his. If this surprised Draco, she couldn't see it in the darkness, but she really did not care.
"Tired of what?" He began heatedly, "That I'm stuck in this sorry excuse for a house with a zoo full of red heads and third-rate EVERYTHING? Or that I am forced to live with your muggle-loving parents with their do-good personalities and that pathetic Potter? Or perhaps I'm tired of sharing the same breathing space with a disgusting, know-it-all mudblood." He paused, breathing hard. The air around him practically began to fog at the pure, cold hate that was protruding from every one of his pores.
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, unfazed by his tirade.
"I meant, do you ever get tired of being a Malfoy?"
This seemed to finally crack the block of ice that was Draco Malfoy, and he stared at the girl harder. No one had ever asked him that before.
"Are you daft, little girl, or is that hair of yours simply contaminating your brain cells?"
Ginny exploded, "Alright! I get it! I have RED HAIR! Bollocks for me!" Enraged, her temper flared and sparked about her, but she was in no condition to stop yet.
"You're right, Malfoy. No, I'm not rich. Yes, My family lives in a rickety old house that would be falling on its hinges if not for magic. Yes, my mother knits 90% of all our clothing and YES, Malfoy, my father appreciates all walks of life, not just the wizarding one. And no, not all wizards are pure blood" She spat the phrase, "So there! Are you satisfied? Do you have any more cheeky insults to throw at me? How about my freckles or the--mmph!"
Her speech had been abruptly halted by something cold and harsh. It crashed against her mouth with such force that she had to grab hold of the body in front of her to steady herself. Hands coiled around her shoulders and held her in place, chilling her to the bone upon contact; she tried to free herself as soon as she realized what was happening, but Malfoy's lips suddenly softened, a tiny trace of foreign warmth spreading across them, though they still felt only marginally defrosted. Ginny wondered if he was truly as cold inside as he appeared to be on the outside.
When he moved to deepen their embrace, the world rocked back into its rightful position and Ginny shoved him off of her, sputtering for air. She drew a hand over her heart as if to shield it and stepped a few paces away from the equally bewildered looking Malfoy.
SMACK!
Ginny withdrew her hand, nursing the sting that hummed beneath her skin and watched Draco stumble to regain his regal posture.
For a moment the odd pair looked at each other as if meeting an entirely new species of man. Draco's pale hand was practically glowing in the moonlight from its place over his left cheek. He could still feel the imprint of her small hand across his face. Ginny's face was half-bathed in moonlight, but he could tell a look of pure hatred when he saw one.
He'd been slapped by one girl in his lifetime; the one being Granger (his ego had never fully recovered), but he'd never dreamed of being struck by such a small, unnoticeable girl, much less a Weasley. It stunned him to no end, but he quickly gathered himself, resuming his dignified persona and rolling back his shoulders lazily.
"Well at least I shut you up," He stated lamely, unsure of his own daring as he received another brutal glare from the quivering girl in front of him. He had no idea what had made him act in such a manner, but the way she'd be screaming at him made him want to either knock himself unconscious or use his wand to rip out her vocal chords. Since he would never intentionally harm himself (what would the world revolve around then?) and he surely didn't want to be booted out of Hogwarts (people might think he was a spoiled little rich boy who never worked for anything or something), he did the next most logical thing given the current circumstances--he'd kissed the words right off her mouth.
And it was true. Ginny was now speechless. She considered running back into the house and locking herself in her room for all eternity, but her legs weren't on the same wavelength as her mind and left her standing firmly on the ground, breathing hard and more than justifiably confused.
Her hand flew to her mouth which still hummed from the feeling of foreign lips upon her own. She shivered at the odd feelings aroused in her chest as she played the scene back over in her mind.
"Ginny?" Hermione's voice crashed through the uncomfortable layer of silence that had surfaced upon the two. Ginny was grateful for any type of distraction.
"Ginny! Are you still out here?" Hermione's voice was growing closer, and Ginny could make out her outline walking towards the very spot they stood on.
"I'm coming, Hermione!" She called back, hoping Hermione would be satisfied and go back into the house rather than stumble upon Ginny and Draco alone in the dark. She'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
But Hermione kept walking, mumbling about the dangers of being outside alone after dark, and Ginny's heart leapt in her throat. She turned to where Draco was standing to tell him to shove off before Hermione saw him, though only met with the still, night air and a black, rumpled cloak laying forgotten by its owner.
Slytherins... She scoffed mentally and jogged over to Hermione, the cloak behind her back, shoving the incident back in her mind for later when she could properly execute and bury it in the darkest corner of her memory.
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Thanx for reviewing everyone! Glad you're enjoying this…I love writing it! Just so you know, I do realize that I've had them snog in the 3rd chapter and all that, but I am not going to make it too easy for our dear couple. More to come next time! ;)
Let me know what you think and review!