Unofficial Portkey Archive

Highrollers by InTheStars



Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews from last chapter! I'm not sure if I'll continue this past here, but I might if I'm inspired and if everybody wants it enough. It was supposed to end with this chapter, because I really have to add to Expositus soon, but Draco and Ginny got away with me, as usual. :P

Luna had mentioned it to her over a copy Enchanted Overalls of the Twentieth Century in the library.

They were doing their work together between whispered conversation and it was a Monday.

"I went to Theodore Nott's game night last Thursday," she'd said conversationally, peeking slightly over the top of the book's binding. "Do you like apple tarts? I've always preferred peach."

"I prefer apple," she'd answered, finishing her essay with a flourish, accustomed to Luna's odd topics. "How was it?"

"It was all right." Luna had then buried her nose back in the book. "Pansy Parkinson has a hairy stomach."

"You saw her stomach?" She'd gaged a little, maybe even threw up a little in her mouth, if she remembered correctly.

"Yes, and Theodore's arse." Ginny had rose an eyebrow. "He asked a lot of questions about you."

"Did he?" She'd tried to recall an image of the older Slytherin- there it was. Tall and gangly, a lot cocky and a bit charming, with predatory yellow eyes.

"Yes," she replied wistfully, "have you ever thought about inkblots?"

The first time Theodore had invited her, it was when she was walking back from a rigorous Quidditch practice. He'd approached her head-on with a curling simper.

"Hey there, Ginny."

"Hello," she'd replied nonchalantly, side-stepping him.

"Was just checking if Lovegood told you to come along tonight with her." He'd turned fast to keep up with her.

"She did."

"Then I'll see you there," he'd winked and then started ahead, jogging to the doors.

It wasn't as if she were interested in the boy at all. She knew full too well Theodore Nott was as pervy as they come, not to mention an all-out player. The only reason he, a Slytherin, would ever be interested in her, a Gryffindor, was if he wanted a good time that lasted exactly one night.

She wasn't going to crawl into his bed like a slut, but she was going to attend his little game night, because Ginny Weasley had been curious since the first moment she'd heard of it. It sounded exciting and different, and better than lounging around the tower reading.

It wasn't as if she didn't know how to have any fun of her own, because she did. She went flying and played Exploding Snap with Luna every once in awhile. They had an enjoyable time, even if it was only the tame, not necessarily thrilling kind.

The first night had been interesting, mostly because she'd only brought a few knuts. She had nothing else to spare, but Theodore didn't seem to mind one bit.

But Pansy did, and the more attention the boys lavished her with, which seemed to inversely relate to the number of clothes she had on, the more Pansy got snippy.

When Parkinson had declared her a "horrible tease with lopsided boobs," she'd brushed it off.

When the bitch had called her a "blemished freak show slut," she'd kept on playing just fine.

But when Pansy had opened her awful mouth and insisted that she was "losing on purpose" and understood why she "had no real friends because who would like a impoverished ninny" who was "as loose with her cheap lingerie" as she was "her legs," Ginny had frankly lost it.

She'd really not like to get into it, but Blaise had to pull her off Pansy before she'd done serious damage to the other girl's face.

Truth be told, she was only back a second time because Luna wanted her to come and it wasn't as if watching the trio acting secretive by the fire was all that entertaining.

It had been going quite well, and she'd been ignoring Pansy, and Pansy had been ignoring her for the most part, but then he had walked in, hair ruffled from a long day and tie loosened enough to expose the hollow of his throat. Even in a tired state he was still graceful and reeked of perfection- a physical kind, at least.

And then he'd opened his mouth and ruined everything about him that she could stand.

Huffing, she turned back to the table, grasping two butterbeers, eyes sweeping over his casual stance- legs open, shoulder blades on the back of his chair- and that trademark smirk aimed straight at her.

She banged the bottles on the table and plopped into her seat, taking a swig of her own, gaze never leaving his.

"Like what you see, Weasley?" He taunted, tugging at the Slytherin-stripped knot around his neck, burning his throat with fire whiskey. "Don't look so much, pet, you might get Nott jealous."

"I'm not anyone's pet."

"But you do like what you see, then?"

She was sure she was blushing, and she opened her mouth to completely deny his words, but someone beat her to it- or to speaking, at least. "Draco, are you flirting with her?" Pansy asked, her face beet-red, fists clenched on the table.

For some reason, that idea made her stomach twist and turn unpleasantly- or pleasantly- she wasn't positive which.

"Well, she is the girl with her top off," Blaise admitted, lips tugging, eyes glued to his hand of cards.

"That she is," Theo said, voice wavering. He shot Draco a pleading look, one that Malfoy looked away from.

"I'm not flirting, Pans," he answered, for the first time glancing over to the agitated girl, "not that it's any concern of yours." He left it like that, and everyone was silent. Ginny had an inkling that silence was a challenge for anyone else to argue.

Coincidentally, no one did, except for Luna. "I think she's concerned because it certainly sounded like you were," she told him, her eyes almost unnaturally wide. "Plus she's a bit jealous. I think she might have some Fuggletrot blood."

"What did you just say about me?"

"Fuggletrots are magical creatures known to mate with wizards and-"

"I am not half-Fuggletrot!"

Pansy was nearly rising from her chair, and Ginny was too amused and overcome with giggles to mention Fuggletrots technically didn't exist.

"Sit down, Pansy," Blaise said serenely. "They don't exist; she's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"No, I'm not. They're born in swamps and have green noses, for envy-"

Pansy plopped back into her seat. "Do shut up, Looney."

"-and they wear no clothes, except for a strategically-placed leaf-"

"Let's play!" Theo cut in.

"Right," Draco agreed, pulling out a pouch from his pocket. Ginny couldn't help but grimace as it hit the table, no doubt a good portion of money clanking inside. "All in," he announced, grabbing his cards and not even bothering to look at them.

Instead he was staring at her.

Tracey delicately took a galleon from her small pile of money and placed it in the middle. Next to her Blaise put a quarter of winnings up for grabs. Pansy, still fuming, bet her shirt, and Luna meticulously put in every coin she had, one by one.

"And what are you betting, Weasley?"

He'd hardly looked away from her once the entire time, and she'd refused to blink. "My skirt," she replied sourly.

Theo chuckled uncomfortably, looking between them. "I'm betting half."

Scowling, she fumbled with her cards, picking them up and resolutely looking away from Draco. Unfortunately, his stare burned along her skin and continued to do so, and it was even more mortifying than simply staring right back.

She had an ace and two threes, which was more than she'd had all night. Ignoring the look Draco was still brandishing her body, she thought about chancing the rest of her cards and put them down, hand lingering over their tops. ("No, don't trade me!") "Anything wild?" She said quickly to Luna.

"Oh, I don't think so," Draco replied.

"I wasn't asking you. It's not up to you."

"Not this round," Luna answered, smiling.

Ginny took up another two cards and sat back, trying to hide her expression.

Nothing, as always. Unconsciously, her eyes found Draco's stormy grey irises over her cards. He still hadn't glanced at his, and had taken to tapping long fingers on the table and smirking. She looked back down, cheeks flushing with embarrassment and unease and god help her, maybe a little excitement.

Yes, this was a lot more entertaining than the tower.

"Are we ready?" Her voice cracked.

"Sure am, beautiful," Theodore answered, putting his cards down. "Three fours."

"Two threes," she announced miserably.

Luna placed hers cards face up with a bright smile. "Straight."

"Three aces," Pansy declared.

"Four of a kind," said Blaise.

Tracey sighed. "Two sixes."

Draco was still looking at her as he dropped his cards on the table. "Straight flush."

"That's impossible!" She burst out.

He rose an eyebrow. "Is not, Weasley. It's right here."

"A straight flush, on your first deal?" She shrieked.

"It happens," he shrugged, but his eyes glowed with malice. "I think you're just upset because you've got to lose that skirt."

"You cheating-"

"We had enough of that last Thursday," Tracey whispered.

Ginny shut her gob, taking in a deep breath. "You're cheating. You didn't even look at your hand."

"He's not cheating!" Pansy argued.

"He couldn't be, Ginny," Blaise said. "The cards have got anti-cheating jinxes on them, remember?"

"Yes, they do, Weasley." Draco flashed her a long-toothed grin. "Now strip like a good girl."

Shaking with anger, she struggled with her skirt's button and nearly ripped it off her legs after it came loose, discarding the fabric to the middle of the table. Draco watched every move with parted lips and a mildly interested expression.

Pansy looked ready to scream.

Luna collected the cards and handed them over to Ginny, patting her hand absently in comfort. In response, Ginny slid the cards over to Theodore. "I'm out this round," she hissed.

"Sore loser, are you?" Draco leaned forward, counting his coins.

"No, I'm nearly naked, you pounce."

"I can see that," he laughed, cocking an eyebrow. "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to have some spine though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked fiercely, before chiding herself in silence. Asking Draco to clarify was always playing right into his hands, as she was learning fast.

"For one thing, you're stopping while you've got other things to bet," he smirked.

"I'm not comfortable with baring all of myself, if you don't mind."

"Well, that's where your lack of spine comes in."

It took all her will power to stay quiet.

"You agree? Well, all right, if you agree..."

"Will somebody just deal already?" Pansy cut in, but Theodore was already obliging.

"This'll be the last round, I think," he said sharply, discontent and gazing pointedly at Draco.

Ginny could tell that Malfoy wouldn't be invited again.

This time, everyone went all in except for Draco, who only gambled with everyone else's money, a pleased simper decorating his mouth.

"I've got nothing," Theo announced bitterly, throwing his hand down. They all screamed and cursed at him, their colored faces spewing insults.

Around the table, everyone had mediocre hands, except for Luna, who tried to convince them an ace and a five was the best pair you could get. "It's the way Hummburners play!"

"Hummburners don't exist," Blaise had sighed patiently.

"Yes, they do!" But she was ignored, and as it were, Draco won the hand by a nail, giving Ginny a toothy smirk as he held up four eights.

Simply grinding her teeth, she rose before everyone else did, reaching for her white-button down immediately. Blaise and Tracey trickled out with quiet goodbyes, disappearing down the hatch as she growled to herself and had to start over again, shaking fingers slipping the buttons in the wrong places.

Luna patted her arm in farewell. "I'll see you at breakfast," she promised, eyes looking around the room as if she hadn't ever been there before.

"Ginny, do you want me to walk you back?" Theodore said at her side.


From the corner of her eyes and through a lock of hair, she could see his fake smile dropping. "Are you sure? It's a long way. I wouldn't want any meaner Slytherins taking advantage of such a pretty girl."

"No, Theodore, I think I'll be all right." She smiled tightly at him, grabbing her red and gold tie, giving up completely on the disarranged shirt.

"All right," he said, shifting. Unwillingly, he turned to leave. "Remember to lock up!"

"We will, Nott," Pansy answered.

Ginny looked up. The girl was saddling up to Draco's side, who was still sitting. Disconcerted, she inhaled when he continued watching her as if she were an interesting museum exhibit. "Do you mind?" She shot at him. "I don't need an audience."

"Come on, Draco," Pansy said, gripping his shoulder lightly. "Let's get back to the dungeons."

He moved her hand without any pretense, eyes only glinting when she reclaimed the limb as if he'd burned her. "You go ahead."

Red filled her cheeks, and she glared coldly at Ginny for a moment, who only paused to give her a nasty look. Then she left loudly, heels clipping, slamming the entrance closed with such force the floor shook.

"Stop staring," she snapped irritably.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes. Why else would I demand you stop?"

"Good," he rose, and Ginny took a surprised step back. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't stop."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are extremely creepy?" Her voice shook.

"No, you're the first, actually," he said, and Ginny didn't like the look in his eyes, even though he didn't come any closer, only leaning his hip casually on the edge of the table.

"Aren't you leaving?" She asked, hoping he would.

It just occurred to her the moment Pansy had left that she was alone in an out-of-the-way room with Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, who hated her and her family, and could curse her and leave her here in just her knickers for Theo to find eventually.

"No," he answered, and then he smiled, and it was small and a bit scary. Everything about him was relaxed- his crossed arms, his posture, but his eyes were alert and fixed on her, and she felt like if she moved he would pounce. "I'm waiting for the rest of my winnings."

"What?" She exhaled, having no idea what he was talking about, reaching for her skirt.

His hand shot out and beat her to it, his almost unnaturally long fingers curling around the ratty fabric. "This is mine."

"Excuse me?" Anger flared up in her, replacing her fear. "Give that back, Malfoy! It's not yours, not unless you're exploring transgendered tendencies!"

He actually laughed, and not the way he'd laugh at her brother or anyone he'd just done something awful to, but really laughed, as if she'd said something funny. She pushed away thoughts about how it sounded sexy- and how sexy he looked- and how- no, she wouldn't think about how gorgeous Draco Malfoy was, not when he was doing something as juvenile as holding her skirt hostage.

"The tie and the shirt's mine too, Weasley," he added.

"How in your small mind do you figure that?"

"I won them." He cocked an eyebrow. "They were in the middle of the table same as everything else."

"That's- that's not how strip poker works!" She screeched, and half-heartedly swiped at it.

Draco held it up out of her reach, and laughed that laugh again. "That's how I play."

Forgetting to keep distance from him under a rush of annoyance, she came closer, eyes on the last piece of clothing she needed to leave, jumping for it. Much to her increasing irritation, he only lifted it higher.

"Give - it - back!" She ordered between jumps and straining on her tiptoes.

"If I give it back, what do I get?" He proposed, and Ginny paused long enough to realize she was nose to nose with him and his breath was hot on her face. She froze, and his simper spread and he moved fast.

Suddenly her thighs were against the table and he was pressing against her, arms trapping her on both sides.

If it was possible to pale and flush at the same time, she was sure she was. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she was torn between breathing shallow and fast and not breathing at all. "What are you doing?" She hissed, the words stringing together, frantically pushing at his shoulders.

"Collecting my winnings," he murmured, arching his neck, lips trailing lightly over her jaw.

She shivered, and pushed him again. "Stop it. I don't remember being on the table, Malfoy. Now stop it before you've got all of my brothers out to castrate you."

"You could be on the table," he suggested, and Ginny shoved at him as hard as she could manage.

He laughed, and she could feel her eyes filling with tears. "Please."

He breathed against her neck, nipping gently at her ear in a way that made her knees feel a bit weak. "That's the magic word, isn't it?" He whispered, before crushing his lips against hers.

She tried to pull away, but he kissed her so hard it hurt, bruising her mouth with his. She made a sound of protest and dug her nails deep into his neck, but he only pulled her closer, tongue flicking out to soothe her puffy lips.

"Come on," he exhaled impatiently, fingers weaving through her hair, keeping her lips near his.

"I said no," she pushed at him again, and this time he stepped back, his silvery eyes filled with impatience.

She felt hot and itchy and high on fear and perverse excitement, and she reached to touch her kissed lips, pinning him with a heavy look.

"Give me my skirt."

A corner of his mouth coiled upwards, and suddenly he looked dangerous again. "No, Weasley, I don't think I will," he said calmly, voice laced with ice. "If you're so comfortable shedding the thing, you'll manage getting back to your bed without it."

"Give it to me," she choked out, ire racing through her veins. She lunged for it, but he held it up again, cocking his brow.

"I said no." He repeated her words from before, and then stuffed the garment in some inner pocket, hand emerging with a few coins that he dropped between them. "But thanks for the good time."

He smiled at her aghast expression, leaving without another word, robes billowing behind him.