Draco had less than two hours before the prefect meeting began at 4:30. His classes over for the day, he retreated to his rooms with a devilish smile on his face. Sitting at his desk, he took a quill and began to write out the spells that he needed, making sure he remembered the exact wording.
A simple reducio and the garments were even smaller. After he found her and had good aim, he could hold the lingerie in the palm of his hand and shoot the vestio corpus across it. That would get her in the lingerie, and once she had to come to him to get it taken off, he could charm it off her.
Or something like that. Peractio obfirmo Malfoy would unlock the catches on her lingerie just like it unlocked his rooms in Malfoy Manor. It was easy. It was simple. It was an excellent plan and he didn't intend to fail.
***
All the prefects had their schedules arranged so they did not have any 4:30 classes on every second Wednesday, so barring unforeseen sickness, absence was not excused. Ginny had no real wish to attend the meeting, as she could not find the courage needed to look Malfoy in the eye.
Curious, was that, since she had left him. She supposed she should feel liberated and womanly and independent, but it wasn't coming to her. Instead, all she could feel was a deep fluttering clench in her abdomen when she remembered him curling up around her in his sleep.
When she had woken in the earliest hours of the dawn, she was loath to leave the warm nest of tangled limbs and soft down. His arm had still been around her midsection, and she gingerly lifted it from her body to leave. One single candle was still lit and in its low light she could see his face, relaxed in sleep.
Once she'd had a day or ten to think about it, she admitted to herself that she had had fun shagging Malfoy. Of course, it had been too much sensory overload at the time to realize this, but after the sweet ache suffusing her body that Thursday, she wasn't averse to doing it again.
Trouble with that was, oh, nearly everything. If she told anyone she'd gone and had some slap and tickle with the Bouncing Ferret, it would be as good as announcing her allegiance to the Dark Lord, and that wasn't a tempest she wished to stir up.
So she found herself rushing to the Prefect's meeting, about seven swinging stairways and four disappearing doors away from her Astronomy class with Professor Sinistra. As always, her hair was flying and she was running short on breath when she collided with Neville as she stepped off the last flight of stairs and rounded the corner.
"Ginny!" he said, his sweet face alight. "I was hoping to talk to you before I go help Professor Sprout."
Peeking into the meeting room and seeing that Malfoy wasn't yet there, she dared a few moments with Neville. He'd grown out of his awkward body and grown into his personality, and he was a wonderful gardener. He would be a sweetheart to a green-thumbed girl some day. But until then, he'd seen fit to ask her to every Hogsmeade weekend he could finagle.
"Hi, Nev. How are you?" she asked.
"Oh, I'm grand," he said, smiling toothily. "Look!" Ginny's eyes followed Neville's pointing finger to his mouth.
"Your teeth! Who straightened them?" Ginny gasped, thinking that whoever had reorganized the crooked mess in his mouth needed a medal.
"Hermione," he said proudly. "She worked with her dad and some Muggle-born who was going to need some sort of metal straightening device on his teeth. After she got it down, she did it for me today after lunch!"
"That's brilliant, Neville," Ginny enthused. He really did look nice, and his now-even white teeth added to the overall effect.
"Thank you," he said, still smiling. "I don't reckon it might put you in more of a mind to visit Hogsmeade with me next time around?"
Inside, she deflated, but kept a cool exterior.
"I'm not quite sure about planning that far ahead," she hedged. Glancing at the Muggle wristwatch Harry gave her for her last birthday, she noticed she was far too late for the meeting, whether Malfoy was there or not.
She crept closer to the open door.
"Let's say yes for now, okay, Nev?" she asked. "But I have to keep up on my homework, you know, so if something comes up, don't be upset," she warned. He merely beamed again, obviously too proud of his shiny new teeth to think of much else.
She smiled back at him and made to turn into the meeting room. Just as her back turned to Neville, she heard him say, "Thanks Ginny, I really enjoy Hogsmeade weekends with you!"
And then there was a sharp smack on her arse. Realizing immediately that Neville had just lecherously swatted her bum like Zacharias Smith did to unsuspecting Hufflepuffs, she whirled around and slapped him smartly on the cheek.
"Neville Franklin Longbottom! Don't you ever touch me like that again! You can forget Hogsmeade, you disgusting prat!"
Ginny knew her face was red and furious as she marched into the meeting room, avoiding the stares of an incredulous band of Prefects. Neville still stood outside the door, slightly dazed and rubbing his cheek.
***
Draco didn't think he could have planned it any better. Struggling to hold in his laughter, he wrapped his arms around himself and shook with silent guffaws. It was all so perfectly placed, as if he had staged it. When Ginny turned to enter the room, she had presented Draco with a perfect target to shoot at: her nicely rounded arse.
The sound she had heard was actually the fabric of the lingerie sucking itself to her body. But the fleeting pain was, as he'd hoped, a nasty little wedgie he'd taught himself to give with a wand. In truth, it was nothing more than a tailoring spell that took in clothing for period of seconds, allowing the tailor to determine the right fit.
Imperiously, he brushed past Longbottom, who had since moved away from the meeting room door but was still babying his cheek and muttering, "But I didn't touch her!"
***
Ginny found, to her dismay, the only seat left was next to the head of the table, where Hermione and Draco sat. More precisely, she would be at Draco's right hand. Sighing, she sat down, fidgeting uncomfortably. Her clothing was chafing her strangely, and she tried desperately not to give in to the need to scratch.
Draco stalked in, looking impossibly tall from her diminutive seat. He threw his dragon's hide-covered folio down and glanced at Hermione.
"What, couldn't start without me, Granger? I knew you loved me."
Ernie MacMillan was forced to restrain Ron before he hurdled the long, scratched table and throttled Malfoy.
Hermione shot both Ron and Draco a withering glare and began to open up the meeting.
Ginny continued to squirm uncomfortably. Something was wrong. She hadn't noticed it in the immediate aftermath of Neville's swat, but she felt slightly constricted, as if she wore a garment that was too small for her. Shifting in her seat, she felt her knees slide against one another in a way they distinctly shouldn't have.
***
Draco watched her try to move as surreptitiously as she could to ease the lingerie's hold on her body. The expressions that she was making would have certainly alarmed someone if she was seen, but everyone else was raptly watching the Mudblood. After one particular change in her position, he saw her face go pale.
Moving slightly to his right and angling his head, he was able to see her reach down and pull up the hem of her robe several inches. Of course, her parents had picked this year to buy her a proper robe that reached her toes, and it had aided him immensely. There, casing her shapely leg, was a stocking in the purest Slytherin green.
She dropped the robe as if it was burning, and she sat like a statue for several moments. Then, obviously thinking that no one was watching, she pulled the collar of her robe away from her slim neck and peeked down it.
Color rushed back into her pale cheeks as she tried to suppress a squeak. All eyes at the table turned her way and, if possible, she became redder.
"Ginny, are you all right?" Hermione asked, her face creased in concern. Ginny gulped a breath so hard Draco could see her throat move.
"Yes, ah, well, just had an awful cramp in my leg," she said, and it was apparent she was trying to control her breath. "Best if I go walk it off."
"Go ahead," Hermione said. "We're almost done here, right?" She looked at Draco for confirmation, and he nodded. Not that he ever paid attention to her agendas, but he supposed it was about the right time for her rants and spiels to be over.
But Ginny had already gathered her books, shoving them into her rucksack and pushing away from the scarred table.
She was almost outside the door when he cooed sweetly, "Feel better, Weasley."
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