Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: Harry Potter's Day Off

Author: Arachne

Author's note: The (first of two) long-awaited Draco & Ginny scene! :-)

Malfoy sat on a cold stone bench in the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement and stared straight ahead, his arms folded angrily across his chest. Across from him sat one Ginevra Weasley. The top portion of her school robes were unbuttoned, revealing underneath her regulation uniform shirt a tight, violet-coloured t-shirt with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes printed on it in flashing silver letters. Since Fred and George's notorious departure from Hogwarts two years ago, Ginny had become their liaison within the castle. She studied him with curious eyes.

"Illegal potions?"

Malfoy regarded her disparagingly. "Thank you, no," he replied in acidic tones. "I'm straight."

"Really." Ginny cocked an eyebrow at him, as if trying to ascertain the validity of that particular statement. "I meant, are you here because of illegal potions?"

He gave her an icy glare. "Why are you here?"

"Illegal potions. I got caught distributing a shipment of Fred and George's Salacious Salve in our common room." Malfoy looked at her blankly. "It's a lip salve that contains a variation of a Love Potion," she explained.

"I don't know why I'm here," he said bitterly.

She shrugged, singularly unimpressed by his attempt at self-pity. "Then why don't you leave?"

"Why don't you shove your wand up your arse?" he snapped.

Ginny stared at him, unfazed. It was a pity he was such an utter bastard, because really, she had always thought Draco Malfoy was rather beautiful. Haughty and tense, but still beautiful, nevertheless. "You're far too uptight, you know that?" Malfoy snorted inelegantly. "My brother Percy's uptight. People think he's a complete prat."

She was met with silence, which stretched out before them for several long minutes. Eventually, she turned to him, curling her knees up against her chest and circling them with her arms.

"You don't want to talk about your problem?"

"With you?" Malfoy sniffed disdainfully. "A Weasel? Are you serious?"

"'Course I'm serious," she nodded.

"Go and get stuffed," Malfoy hissed. Ginny regarded him coolly, her face wearing the faintest hint of a smirk as her eyes casually trailed to his lap, lingered there a moment, and slowly climbed back up again. His alabaster skin flushed under her gaze, betraying the glacial aura he was trying so hard to project.

"You really want to know what's wrong?" he spluttered, and she shrugged indifferently.

"Oh, I know what's wrong," she said coolly. "I just want to hear you say it."

"In a nutshell, I loathe Pott--" He stopped suddenly, remembering Ginny's connection to the great prat. "Let's just say there's a certain person I am itching to feed to one of those Skrewt things that half-wit half-giant nearly killed us with in class a few years ago."

Ginny nodded. She understood the emotion. She often felt that way about Ron, Percy and very occasionally, her mother. "Did you put him under the Cruciatus Curse or something?"

"No," Malfoy smiled, for the first time that day, "not yet. I confirmed the bastard was skiving and a bloody vampire broke in, so I Flooed the Ministry and for some ridiculous reason, they nicked me for making prank Floo calls--not to mention using magic outside of school, but I haven't been off the bloody grounds all day!"

"Why should you care if he skives?"

He stared at Ginny indignantly. "Why should the jammy git get to skive when everyone else has to go?"

Ginny shrugged again. "You could skive."

"I'd get done in," he sulked.

"So ... you're pissed because he skives and gets away with it, is that right?"

When she put it like that, it almost sounded foolish. "Er ... right."

"Right. Then your problem is you," she said wryly.

"Pardon me?"

"Pardon you," Ginny replied. "You know, you ought to spend a little more time sorting your priorities out, and a little less time worrying about what this other bloke does. Just an opinion."

Malfoy stared at her, chagrined, partly because she, a lowly Gryffindor, dared to challenge him, the undisputed leader of Slytherin, and partly because she was probably right.

"What are you, a Healer?"

"No."

"Then why don't you keep your opinions to yourself, all right?"

"Y'know," Ginny considered him a moment, "there's somebody you should talk to."

His face morphed from righteous anger to undiluted malevolence. "If you say Harry Potter, I'll curse you into the middle of next week."

"Huh," she smiled, "how'd you know?"

Malfoy's hand curled into a tight fist.

"And by the way, Sunshine, if I were you? I wouldn't dare try to pull anything," Ginny continued, her tone as sweet as a treacle tart. "Need I remind you of a certain Bat Bogey Hex I performed a couple of years back?"

Malfoy made a whimpering noise, and instinctively raised both hands to protect his nose.