Defeat

DEFEAT

BY: J

DISCLAIMER – This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

FICLET SUMMARY – Draco is forced to concede abject defeat in the face of a stronger, wilier foe -- (thanks Mynuet!)

Just a fluffy ficlet with a twist of humour *grin*

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“DRACO MALFOY! Where are you!”

Draco shuddered as Ginny’s voice echoed through the hall. Pressing a hand to his temple he stifled his moan as his headache pounded in defiance. He continued crawling along the floor, inching closer and closer to the door. Gods, his chest was on fire and his eyes were puffy and bleary. He could barely make out the scuffed black shoe that tapped its toe impatiently in front of him.

No.

She couldn’t have found him.

Draco kicked and twisted as Ginny’s iron hands grasped him by his waist and pulled him to his feet. His body could barely hold himself up and Draco found himself leaning heavily on her. He stopped his futile attack on her when he realized how pitiful his kicks and defiant yells were.

“Let go of me Weasel!” he yelled hoarsely, pathetically trying to pull her hair and make her take pity on him.

“Get a grip, Ferret. Why are you being such a baby? I’m trying to help you.”

“Hard luck, Weasley. You’re only hurting me by helping me.” Draco smirked half-heartedly at her strangled curse.

With one last try he wrenched himself away from Ginny and stared wonderingly at her as his legs struggled to hold him. He’d gotten away! His celebrations were short lasting as Ginny lunged for him. In the thrill of his escape he was able to leap away. Snickering at her disheveled appearance as she glowered up at him from the floor, he danced away to the stairs. Draco paused uncertainly at the stairs, since when did they bloody grow so tall?

Draco barely registered the mass of red hair and freckles that until it seized him by his ear and pulled him towards his bed. His fingers scrabbled helplessly against hers as she wrenched his ear mercilessly. Fool! Why did you hesitate? Do not beg, Malfoy. You have never had to beg for anything in your life. Improvise.

“You look stunning today Ginny. I don’t think I can control myself around you.”

Ginny snorted and let go of his ear only to wrap her arm around his waist again. “Ginny now, is it, Draco? I must point out; I can’t say the same about you. Down you go.”

Draco found himself being dumped unceremoniously onto his bed and his body protested none too happily. Where were the careful ministrations he had been so used to as a child? A sly smile crossed his face as he remembered Galina, that lovely Russian girl that his mother had hired to take care of him. Draco groaned as his headache pounded and he held his head in his hands, trying to rub away the pain. It was as if his body was protesting unfaithful thoughts. He writhed for a while before freezing in shock. Merlin was he shrinking?

The skin across his body felt tight and hot. No, not hot. Burning. Draco fanned himself tiredly before dropping his hand onto the mattress. He gazed at the bed canopy. The green seemed to be now swirling with colors – more colors the longer he stared at it. The shrinking feeling was back. Draco shot up when he felt the shrinking make its way to his pants. He stared at his groin in sheer terror.

No no no.

Shutting his eyes tightly, Draco shakily stretched his hand to his pajama bottoms and lifted them carefully. Opening an eye he glanced into the blackness of his pants carefully before sighing in relief. Draco collapsed onto his silk pillows patting his groin happily.

Good, it was the same size.

“Draco, I leave you for a moment and you’re wanking off already!” Ginny screeched. Draco winced and clamped his hand onto her mouth before pulling it away as quickly as he put it there. She was bloody freezing. To Ginny’s surprise Draco grabbed her around the waist suddenly and clutched her to himself before sighing contentedly with his face buried in her neck. So cold, so soft, so very nice against his burning skin, Draco nuzzled her neck happily.

“Draco! You have a bloody fever. Let go of me! I’ve brought your medicine.”

At the word medicine Draco pushed her away and curled into a ball with his back towards her. He hated medicine. He hated the taste of it, the smell of it, the way it went down, the way it came up and the way it infiltrated his senses. The bloody stuff was poison. As Ginny pulled out a potion vial Draco cringed and turned his back to her.

“Go away Ginny!” Draco whined piteously. Why couldn’t she leave him alone? He was a man, a Slytherin…a Malfoy. He could deal with a silly little thing like a cold by himself thanks. He didn’t need the silly bint’s help or her medicine. Draco backtracked quickly. He didn’t need her medicine but he didn’t mind her.

He tried not to give in when he felt a cold cloth gently wipe his forehead and face but she was ruthless. She was cruel. She didn’t think he knew what she was up to, but boy did he know. She was lulling him into a false sense of security then WHAM! She’ll get what she wanted.

“Stupid wench.” Draco muttered. To his surprise his face smarted terribly as she smacked him only to be soothed again by the cold cloth.

“I’ll pretend you’re delirious, Draco, and I won’t punch you where it hurts most.”

Draco cringed at her comment. He’d experienced that before. Loads of times. Why, he’d gotten so many whacks to the sac he was wondering if she even planned on having his babies. Probably not, he thought morosely. She’ll realize her mistake and go back to Potter and forget about him. Poor Draco. Draco patted himself on the head consolingly, oblivious to the amused look of the redhead whom was tending him.

Her fingers were stroking his forehead now. As they ran through his hair Draco relaxed into the bed and the nice scalp massage she was so willingly giving. Suddenly his air supply was cut off with a pinch to his nose, and Draco flailed on the bed wondering why his girlfriend wasn’t at all concerned for his life. Coughing he found use of his mouth and the lovely, cool supply of oxygen filled his lungs. Swiftly, a spoon was shoved into his mouth and his nose released. Draco choked as the concoction slid its way down his throat. Oh Gods, he was going to hurl!

Draco barely registered the body that quickly straddled his hips until he felt Ginny’s hand clamped over his mouth as another continued stroking his cheeks gently, coaxing him to swallow. Ergh, the witch must be joking if she thought that was going to make him swallow. And after what she did to him. Hmph.

As Draco’s defiant thoughts continued the medicine made its way down his throat and into his blood stream. He struggled with Ginny’s hands as she held him down firmly. Why’d she have to be so damn persistent? After all the food that tasted dry and papery he could taste the potion. Damn his luck. Draco made a face; the potion had made his mouth dry and sticky. After realizing that feeble noise of protest was his, Draco barely registered when Ginny’s hands released him as she leaned over him to get a glass of water.

Draco gazed blearily at the covered chest that loomed enticingly above him. To his disappointment his body refused to comply with his demands. Ergh, being sick was the pits. Ginny held the glass to his lips and Draco drank hungrily, eager to be rid of the foul taste of the potion.

Falling back against his pillow Draco shut his eyes tiredly. All thoughts ceased as his body carefully shut down and relaxed into the deep, well deserved slumber. Fighting the potion, Draco cracked an eye open and gazed up at Ginny who stared down at him smugly.

“Wench.”

“You’ll love me in the morning, Ferret.”

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