Hormonally Challenged

1. Hormonally Challenged

Written for my dear friend, Rainpuddle13, for her birthday. *hugs*

Hormonally Challenged

It wasn't like he enjoyed talking to the annoyingly freckle faced chit, with her too baggy clothing that looked better suited to fit one of her half a dozen brothers than herself. Now that he thought about it, that was probably the case. This new found acknowledgment wasn't endearing her to him any more than before. It was a lack of options, really. Sometimes talking to anyone was better than silence.

Besides, she was amusing in her attempts to “one up” him in the insult department. She really was bad at it, and he told her so regularly. One would think you'd gain at least something from all the practice having a dozen older brothers would provide. Apparently this was not the case and it was one more area she was lacking in.

Draco mentally ticked off her list of undesirable attributes as they walked down the Charms corridor, her rambling away incessantly as she was prone to do.

Red hair. Check.

Freckled face. Check. He paused momentarily as he wondered where else she was freckled then shook his head in disgust over the thought. Damn hormones.

Polyester blend robe that was way too big for her body. Check, check.

Meager mind. Check

Short. Check

Fifteen older brothers, the smaller ones too tricky and crafty to take your eye off and the remaining ones larger than a small farmhouse. A big, fat check.

He was interrupted from his task by the sound of her clearing her throat, loudly, and he realized she was waiting for a response from him. What in the hell had she been talking about?

“What are you going on about now, Weasley?” he asked, his voice laced with boredom.

“I asked if you were taking pug-nose to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

“I suppose so, unless something better comes along. I need her help picking out a gift anyway. Why?”

“Only making conversation, Malfoy,” she replied back nonchalantly, swinging her arms dramatically at her sides.

“You going with Scarhead, Weasel-king and the Mudblood?” He saw her wince at the term he used to describe that insufferable know-it-all, Granger, and he mentally smiled to himself. It wasn't quite as much fun to bait her like it was her brother, but that never stopped him. She didn't explode with frustration and anger. Instead she seemed to be collecting it all, storing it up for a later date. Part of him wanted to see her get really nasty just so long as it wasn't directed at him when it happened.

“No, I have detention to serve,” she said with a sigh.

“Snape?” He couldn't see her actually acting out in class, so it had to be Snape giving out his daily random Gryffindor detention. Good ol' Professor Snape.

“No, McGonagall actually.”

Now this was intriguing, Draco thought as they rounded down another hallway and headed for the staircase. “What would McGonagall possible give you a detention for?”

“I'd really rather not discuss it,” Ginny said, lifting her head a little as she spoke and heading down the staircase with determination, taking the stairs as quickly as possible. “What are you and pug-nose going shopping for?”

“You know, her face looks nothing like a dog,” Draco started, defending one of the few people he tolerated in the entire school.

“If that's what you need to tell yourself before kissing her, then by all means, live in your delusional world,” Ginny said, hitching up the bell sleeves of her robes for what could possibly the millionth time since they started making rounds together at the beginning of the school year.

There she went again, thinking she was funny and clever when she so clearly was not.

“First off, who says that I've been kissing Pansy? Not that I'm not, but who says? Secondly,” he said, stopping in his tracks and grabbing the sleeve of her robes, “don't you know any tailoring spells?”

Draco bunched up the sleeve slightly on her left arm and muttered a spell while tapping his wand on the fabric. It instantly shrank in length a full three inches, allowing it to come to a stop just barely past her wrist. He did the same to the other side.

“Why do you know how to do that?” Ginny asked in awe.

It was his turn to want to change the subject. “I just do, now come on.”

“But it's so plebeian a task,” she said, giggling as she followed him down another set of stairs leading to the Hogwarts dungeons.

“Yes, you would know all about that, now wouldn't you?” he shot back; happy she would finally shut up, if only for a few moments. It worked like clockwork, as soon as she got too annoying, all he had to do was insult her family or financial station in life and she'd shut that pouty mouth of hers. Really, he could think of better uses for it than pathetic attempts at cutting him down. Ugh, stupid hormones! He may actually have to go snog Pansy to get over this annoying habit of finding the Weasley girl kissable.

Of course, now that he looked at her in the dark corridors of the dungeon, her hair wasn't quite so obnoxious and her freckles, even though they stood out more against the torch light, they seemed to look somehow… different.

That settled it; he was waking Pansy up as soon as he got back to the Slytherin common room. No, she was taking over rounds after his; maybe he'd just pull her aside in the hallway when she came to relieve him.

He must have been staring because Ginny was looking at him strangely again, but apparently she thought better of speaking. They were almost finished scouting the dungeon before either one spoke again. It was in the last classroom to be checked that they were scarred for a lifetime. Images of Professors Snape and Trelawney would have to be bleached from their brains.

“Great Godric's ghost,” Ginny gasped as Draco clamped a hand around her mouth to keep her voice muffled after they opened the door to the classroom. He yanked her back out the door before they were seen, but the string of curses that could be heard from the abandoned classroom let them know the seriously snogging couple knew they'd been caught by someone.

Draco grabbed her hand and ran, making a hasty retreat back to the Great Hall. The thought never crossed his mind about how soft and tiny her hand was placed inside his own. Nope, not even once.

They sat on top of the Ravenclaw table, both taking a moment to catch their breath and he watched her laugh over the situation. It was a nice sound. Soft and light and he wondered why he always thought of her as loud and obnoxious, when in reality she was actually quite soft-spoken. Obnoxious still, and adamant about getting her point made, but she wasn't loud and brash like, oh let's say, that git of a brother she had.

“All right, who wants to go first?” Draco asked when she stopped giggling. He stood from the table and motioned for her to do the same.

“First for what?” she asked back, clearly confused and now standing directly in front of him.

“A memory charm, of course. I'll do you, and then you do me. We'll never have to think about what we just witnessed ever again,” he said, taking out his wand and pointing it in her direction.

“You must be insane if you think I'm going to let you put your wand anywhere near me!” Ginny said indignantly.

He couldn't help it. His damn raging hormones, which were clearly out of control, kicked in again and he smirked at her. “Are you sure you don't want my wand anywhere near you? I'm sure I could make it rather nice for you.”

Ginny seemed to catch his not so subtle double entendre. “I seriously doubt you'd have the first clue as to what to do with your wand once you've whipped it out.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, still smirking and running the tip of his wand along her arm. She batted him away in annoyance.

“No,” she said, not able to look him in the eye as she said it.

Silence followed and Ginny shifted uncomfortable on her feet. “So, uh, what do we do now?” she asked, glancing at her watch.

They still had fifteen minutes before their shift was over and another set of students would take over patrol, but they'd finished their rounds early with nothing left to do.

“We'll just wait here for Longbottom and Parkinson. They've got next shift.”

“Poor Neville,” Ginny said at the same time Draco said, “Poor Parkinson.”

They looked at each other and smiled.

Draco sighed before leaning back against the table. “So, are you ever going to tell me what you have detention for?”

“Not unless you tell me why you know how to do complicated tailoring spells.”

“Fine,” he said in annoyance, “but you go first.”

Ginny studied him for a moment. “All right, I suppose it can't do any harm to tell you.” After a long dramatic pause she continued. “I can't transfigure a napkin into a duvet and it took me forever to get the button/beetle thing down pat, my flower pot was covered in feathers, remnants of the chicken it once was, and well, I'm altogether horrible at transfiguration. My last assignment was a complete disaster and well,” she sighed heavily, “there you have it.” The look on her face was completely crestfallen.

Draco wasn't sure why, but he couldn't bring himself to tease her about it. Not yet anyway. He'd store it back in his mind to use for a later date if nothing else. The urge to comfort her was bugging him, but he pushed it aside and instead went into a rambling of his own.

“My Mum likes to shop, a lot. Before I came to Hogwarts, if I wasn't being schooled or with my Father, then I was tottering around behind my Mum. I can remember sitting around watching her try on robe after long boring robe. It was incredibly dull. They'd take it in here; let it out there, alternate color and fabric. It just sort of stuck in my head. I was nine when my Father caught me taking in the pillowcase one of our house elves had on. From that day on, I was no longer allowed to go shopping with Mum.”

Neither one looked at the other, both gazes fixed upon some undetermined spot on the floor. They were saved from further embarrassment when Snape stalked into the Great Hall, but that brought on a whole new awkwardness.

“Have you been in the dungeons recently?” The man always cut straight to the point.

Draco answered smoothly before Ginny had a chance. “Yes, sir. It's part of our rounds. We started there about two hours ago and then worked our way up,” he lied.

“Very good,” Professor Snape said distractedly before turning on his heel and marching out the way he came.

Ginny covered her mouth and giggled. “Is that offer for a memory charm still good,” she teased.

“No,” he said, trying to stifle his own amusement, “but I do happen to be rather good in Transfiguration.”

“What are you saying, Malfoy?”

“I'm saying if you want help then you can find me in the library every Tuesday and Thursday at seven o'clock without fail.”

They were interrupted once again by the click of heels as Pansy Parkinson walked up to the table, an amused look in her eye. “Interrupting anything?”

“No,” was all Draco said.

“Uh-huh.” Pansy turned around to see Neville Longbottom enter the Great Hall. “Oh good, it's time to torture myself a Gryffindor,” she said with a predatory smile as she turned back to Draco and Ginny. “You two are dismissed.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, but headed towards the exit anyway. After stopping briefly to make sure Neville was okay with being left alone in Pansy's clutches, she jogged to catch up with Draco before he descended the stairs to Slytherin domain.

“Um, Draco. I just wanted to say, well, you know… thanks for the offer.”

He flashed an annoyingly smug smile her way. “See, I knew you couldn't wait to get a chance to see my wand in action.”

Damn, irrepressible hormones!

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