I would like to take this moment to thank all my . . . wait, wrong speech. Really, due to um, overwhelming response, I will not be pausing this story to work on Starting Over, which is of course, the sequel to Dark Days. I have decided to for go any type of social life and dedicate myself to Harry Potter fan fics. Particularly, those having to do with Draco and Ginny. Okay, not really, but since I don't have much (or any) of a social life, I will keep working on both stories. Cut me some slack though, I do have a 3 year old daughter! And seriously, thanks to all yall who reviewed. Kisses!
CHAPTER 4 Confusion
Ginny guessed that by the furious look on Malfoy's face, he had been standing there quite a while.
Harry just stared at him, unsure of what to do.
"Let. Go." He jabbed his wand into Harry's forehead. "Now."
Harry dropped Ginny's wrists and shot her a disgusted look, then turned and walked off.
Ginny rubbed her wrists and glanced up at Draco, unsure of what to say. "Thanks," she told him finally.
A group of Slytherin's poured from the Great Hall, directly behind Malfoy just as he opened his mouth to speak. But as he heard their voices behind him, he let his eyes slide slowly down from her face all the way to her worn black and red trainers poking out from beneath her robes, back up, and then turned on his heel and left, a sneer curling across his lips.
Ginny nearly threw her hands up in disgust as she stomped into the Great Hall. What kind of person asked you to the dance, rescued you, and then walked off without even asking how you were doing? Of course, Draco Malfoy would never ever wear ratty, worn trainers, even if they were the most comfortable shoes ever. No, he always wore his shined dress shoes and even on the weekends, when they weren't required to wear the Hogwarts uniform, he wore his immaculately pressed trousers and dress shirts. Draco would never wear the Muggle type denim pants with holes in them that she and Ron, Harry and Hermione all wore. That would just be beneath a Malfoy! Ginny was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she didn't even realize until she took a long drink of her Pumpkin Juice, that she was sitting directly across from Ron and Hermione and they were staring. Ginny didn't even make an attempt to cover up her audible groan.
"Harry was looking for you," Ron said cheerfully.
"I know," she snapped.
"He was?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows knitting together. "What did he want?"
Ginny chose to ignore the both of them and shoveled a spoon of potatoes into her mouth instead.
"He was going to ask her to the ball," Ron said, looking confused.
"What?" Hermione asked, her voice rising. "Did he?"
Ginny nodded and swallowed. "Yeah."
There was a brief silence.
"Well?" Ron prompted.
"I already have a date."
Hermione's eyes widened.
"With who?" her brother demanded.
Ginny closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Why did life suddenly have to get so completely and totally confusing? She had spent nearly three years adoring Harry, and even though it was probably just a crush, he had decided to show interest when she decided to get over him. The worst part was she had no idea what she really wanted. True, everything about Draco Malfoy was incredibly intriguing and appealing, but with him, she could never be sure, and Harry was, well, now he was just Harry. It might, she considered, but fun to kiss him just once or twice and see what that was like, but-
"Well?" Ron was still staring at her.
"Why don't you ask Harry?" she said sourly.
"I thought you liked Harry."
"Oh Ron," Hermione sighed. "That was years ago."
"It was not," he protested. "It was, well . . . I thought you still did."
"Did you put him up to this?" Ginny demanded.
"No," he shook his head, his face turning bright red. "It was his idea."
"If you wanted information, you could have just asked me!"
"Right," he mumbled. "I'm sure you'd be telling me the truth!"
"And you thought I'd tell Harry?"
"I thought you liked him."
Ginny slammed her fork back down on the table. "Well I'm going to see if Madam Pince will let me back in the library since Harry got me thrown out."
"Harry did?" Ron asked, his confusion growing.
Ginny stood and left the room, still unsure why she was so angry. Maybe I should just go to the ball with Neville. That would be less dramatic. Ginny walked, lost in thought, until she found herself on the seventh floor. It was eerily silent and cold up there with all the unused classrooms. She smiled to herself, recalling the time she had spent up here last year, practicing with the D.A.
"Recalling memories, Weasley?" a low voice behind her asked. "Remembering how I caught you last year?"
Ginny turned around to face Malfoy. "Not exactly."
"Then what?"
She shrugged. "I was going back to the library, and . . ."
"The library's not up here."
"I know! I was just thinking. What are you doing up here?"
"Following you," he said simply.
For a brief moment, Ginny allowed her eyes to drink in his pale hair and eyes, the perfect shape of his pink lips, and let her eyes slide down his robes. "What do you want?"
"Why do you keep asking me that?" he demanded, his eyes locking into hers.
"You're not exactly trustworthy," she told him, leaning against the wall.
"Maybe I'm a different person," he answered, stepping closer.
"Maybe. But maybe not."
"I guess there's nothing to do but wait and find out, is there?" He was so close to Ginny, she could see individual silvery eyelashes and feel his warm breath against her cheek. He reached up and slip the straps of her back pack off her shoulders. It fell to the floor with a dull thunk, and his lips grazed the tops of hers. Once, twice, and then a third time they washed over her mouth, then Draco dropped his forehead to her shoulder. Ginny stared down at the top of his head, unsure of what to do next, and trying to banish the ridiculously timed thought that she was ever so glad he had stopped gelling his hair straight back.
"So I'll meet you downstairs at 7?" he asked, speaking directly to her chest.
"Huh?" she asked, confused.
"The dance, Weasley! The dance," he snapped, lifting his head. "It's this Saturday."
"Oh. Right. That's fine."
"I'll see you then." He removed his hands from her hips and turned away, leaving her staring at his delicious retreating form.
***
"I think it's a good thing," Hermione told her that night, after she had crept back into bed.
"You do?" Ginny asked, disbelieving. She had been waiting for the explosion. When she entered the common room both Harry and Ron were glaring at her.
"Well, yes. Remember the song the Sorting Hat sang last year? And this year? It said we'll only be strong if we unite. I know Harry and Ron can't see it now, but if Malfoy is really interested in you, it could be a good thing."
"He could only be interested in me because he is Malfoy and he can't think of anything better to do to make Ron and Harry furious."
Hermione bit her lower lip and nodded. "That's true. They are angry. What do you think?"
"I don't know," Ginny sighed, tying her red hair up behind her. "I have no idea."
"Well, I guess the ball will be a good time for you to find out more."
Ginny groaned and buried her face in her pillow. "I'm not going."
"Why not?" she demanded.
"Have you seen my dress robes? They're horrible."
"What's wrong with them?" Hermione asked.
"They're not as bad as Ron's old ones, but they have a couple holes in the seam, plus they're too short. Remember Draco's robes last time? They were nice," Ginny pouted.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron and Harry made fun of them for weeks. Said he looked like a priest."
Ginny cracked a smile. "I guess I'll write Fred and George and beg them. If they can hurry, I'll go. I
mean, the dance is at the end of the week!"
"No wait!" Hermione grabbed her hand. "Come here."
Ginny followed her into the next dorm room.
"Look," Hermione whispered loudly, using her wand to light the space in front of her trunk. "What about this? My parents bought these, but they're just not me. My mum always wanted me to be more of a girly girl, you know." She held up a gorgeous robe made of a fairly bold shade of pink. It had a dipped neckline, wide sleeves, and even a slit on the left side of the dress.
"It's beautiful," Ginny breathed.
"Try it on."
They scurried to the girl's restroom, and Ginny held the gown in front of her. "I don't know. Pink with my hair?"
"Just try it. I think it will work."
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