Disclaimer: See prologue. It still applies.
Note: I'm writing this fast because I like this story. Although it's really a bitch that no one is reviewing. Seriously...if you read it, review it. I can see the number of hits it gets and I'd like to get at least a third that number of reviews... It only gets better as it goes, folks. That's a promise.
*****
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Ginny whispered, unfurling the seemingly innocuous bit of parchment known as the Marauder's Map and looking again at the dot labeled "Hermione Granger." She sighed, seeing it still planted firmly in the library, moving only periodically, no doubt to retrieve more books from the stacks. It was not even November, yet Hermione was probably already well involved in studying for N.E.W.T.S., or busy in her constant project of researching new defensive spells for Harry's aid. Of Harry, the dot bearing his name was a blur on the Quidditch pitch along with the one marked "Ronald Weasley." Normally she would be joining them, but after a full week of grueling practices that stretched on for hours, she and the rest of the team had voted to save their energy for the game on Saturday. Only Ron and Harry had wanted to practice more, obsessive in their dedication. It was a small comfort to know that those two were, for the moment, far away...it wouldn't do to have either of them personally witness her illicit activities; Draco had explicitly informed her that he didn't fancy having his balls hexed off, as he was rather attached to them, literally and emotionally.
Draco's dot was unmoving, just around the corner from where Ginny now stood. She tried to keep her hands from trembling as she tapped the map and muttered "mischief mangaged," knowing full well that the mischief had not even begun. Folding the parchment, she stuffed it into her school bag along with her wand and entered the hall just outside the library. Draco was leaned back casually against one wall, hands in his pockets, looking very bored.
"Ah, there she is," he smirked, pushing off of the wall and coming so close to her that their bodies were very nearly touching. She forced herself to maintain eye contact with him and not look as frightened as she felt with his larger, taller body looming over hers. "It was just unbearable waiting," he whispered softly, his voice heavy with sarcasm and eyes glimmering impishly. "I thought I would absolutely die of anticipation." He grinned and chuckled at this mocking, and turned away from her as if satisfied that he had embarrassed her thoroughly enough for the moment. He settled back against the wall and looked down at his watch.
"Mudblood should be scurrying out here any minute now," he said, not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice that accompanied the derogatory term. They had agreed that Hermione would be the best witness of their tryst, as one not likely to act too rashly and one guaranteed to promptly inform Harry of what she'd seen. Ginny had suggested that Neville request a tutoring session with Hermione for promptly 6:00 that evening, knowing she would be in the library until that time and take the quickest route back to Griffyndor Tower. Of course, Hermione had readily agreed to the request, as one ever-eager to help a lesser student and Neville had accepted the suggestion unquestioningly, ever-eager to please Ginny and naively thinking she simply had his best interests at heart.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Draco taunted, leering at her. "You'd best get on with it."
She dropped her heavy bag with a thud on the ground beside him, the noise seeming to echo throughout the hallway like the ominous drop of a gavel. Malfoy had insisted that she be the initiator -- he couldn't risk the possibility that it might even vaguely look like he was forcing himself on her. Now he was grinning like a cat in the cream, amused at her apparent nerves. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her erratic pulse, finally knowing that she really was nutters. She was going to kiss a cruel and loathsome man, all for the sake of love.
Swallowing, she placed a hand stiffly on his shoulder, leaning in but drawing back quickly mere inches from his face, losing her courage. God, this is humiliating, she thought to herself. I can't do this.
"I'm sorry," she said, feeling her cheeks burning. "This is just kind of weird."
"Your idea, Nutters," he said, but his voice was a bit softer and his gaze less severe.
"Okay," she said aloud, gathering her resolve. "I can do this." She moved in again, and again stopped short, feeling as if she would die from humiliation.
Draco sighed heavily. "For God's sakes," he said. "I don't bite." There was a beat of silence before he thought better of this and said, "Actually, that's not true...but come on, be a big girl and just do it already."
"I can't," she said miserably, shaking her head. "It's just too..."
Ooomph. The door to the library had opened with a creak, the sound jolting Draco to action. Her words were muffled against his lips as he pulled her to him forcefully, kissing her roughly, one of his hands at the back of her head to prevent escape. She made a little noise or distress into his mouth, partly from the impact of her body colliding with his, mostly from surprise. She tried to relax into the kiss but she felt intensely on edge, forcing herself to close her eyes and distract herself from who exactly was ravaging her mouth. His lips pulled at hers insistently, kissing her hard, almost hatefully. She managed to severe her lips briefly from his, opening her mouth to protest -- this wasn't what she had planned at all! -- and realized her mistake as she felt his tongue touch against her lips and enter her mouth, kissing her again, warm and wet and rough. Her heart was pounding wildly, no room for thoughts in her head, only his name repeated like a dizzying mantra: Draco Malfoy Draco Malfoy Draco Malfoy...and the dim knowledge that she should not be doing this, much less enjoying it. Her hands were gripping the front of his shirt in her little fists, bunching and wrinkling the expensive material.
His hands grazed down her sides to her waist, dragging her up his body so that her breast were smashed painfully against his hard chest and moving himself so that she straddled one of his sturdy, muscled legs. She was intensely aware of the fact that her knickers were in contact with the rough material of his trousers, and thought her knees might give out when she felt his fingers digging into the back of her thigh, pulling her right leg up off the ground and grinding her crotch hard into his thigh. Her eyes opened wide in alarm -- he had definitely taken this too far -- and she pushed off of him hard, shoving him back into the wall with more force than she intended.
"You call that a snog?!" she yelled, indignant.
He raised an eyebrow at her, his chest rising and falling noticeably as he tried to catch his breath. "What do you call it?"
"I don't know -- molestation?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Excuse me for missing the 'no fun allowed' clause in our terms of agreement," he said sarcastically.
She was fuming, breathing heavily as well, intensely angry at herself for enjoying what had just happened.
"I'm sorry," she said finally. "You're right, I overreacted. It's not a big deal." She felt incredibly awkward, unable to meet his eyes without the protective guise of anger to hide behind.
Just as she was beginning to fear an uncomfortable silence, Draco began to chuckle. Horrified, Ginny relaxed that he was looking at her and laughing. "What?" she asked, feeling very self-conscious.
"Come here," he said, smiling, the usual bitterness absent from his voice so that he sounded, almost -- pleasant.
She approached tentatively, thrown off by the change in demeaner, flinching as his hands came up to the knot at her throat, straightening her crooked tie and smoothing her collar. His eyes were intent on the task at hand, the barest traces of a smile on his lips. Testing his boundaries again, he dipped his fingers into the hem of her skirt at her waistline, tucking her blouse in where it had come lose, letting his fingers stay there a few seconds longer than necessary. He smoothed her hair briefly and, upon finishing his tidying, stepped back to survey the improvement. "There we are," he said, grinning. "Every appearance of prudence and chastity." He laughed. "God, what a farce."
Ginny blushed again, realizing vaguely that he had just indirectly insulted her somehow. "Well, do you think Hermione saw?" she asked impatiently.
The grin overtook Draco's whole face. "Yeah, about that..." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, rocking back on his heels and looking very full of himself.
His attitude was not reassuring. "Well?"
"Didn't see a bloody thing," he smirked. "She didn't even glance this way."
Her face fell. "Are you sure?"
He nodded, still smiling. "Positive."
"Well then what are you smiling about? This means we'll have to do it again!"
"Exactly," he grinned.
Ginny looked miserable.
"Oh, come on," he sighed, feeling frustrated. "You bloody liked it."
"Did not."
"Did so."
"Did not."
"Did -- oh, for the love of God, what are we, 10?" He looked at his watch. "I've got to get going."
"Okay," she said awkwardly. "Um, well...thanks. I guess we'll make plans for later, right?"
"Count on it." He sneered at her and in a moment was out of sight down the corridor.
Ginny sighed, shouldering her back and heading slowly back towards Griffyndor Tower, her mind spinning and heart still trying to find a steady beat.
And finally, a solitary figure creeped out from the shadows behind a suit of armour -- an unwitting and unbearably intrigued witness to a scene not meant for their eyes.
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