A Stroll in Your Shoes

Disclaimer: I did not create any of the Harry Potter characters, etc.

A/n: Hope you enjoyed that last chapter. I don’t have any assignments (yay) and I’m sorting out some finer details for my novel, which means more time for fanfiction!

A Romance Rebuffed and Reborn

Ginny’s return to Hogwarts in her own body was not a pleasant one. Somehow the news that she and Draco had switched bodies had spread around the school, and it was too much to ask that the students would be forgiving in realising she had helped Slytherin win the Quidditch House Cup. The Gryffindors despised her, save her family, Harry, Hermione, and those few who didn’t care enough about quidditch to hold a grudge against her; the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were reluctant to associate with her, having greatly desired Slytherin losing just as much as the Gryffindors, and in the end the only students who were nice to her were the Slytherins themselves.  Perhaps that was why she found herself in the Slytherin common room attending the first party thrown for a Gryffindor in all of Hogwarts history…

“Three cheers for Ginny Weasley: the honorary Slytherin!!” Romulus Castrande shouted cheerfully, already half drunk from the firewhiskey that had been snuck into the common room. The common room erupted with cheers instantly, the clinking of bottles and glasses clashing together rising over the hubbub of voices as people toasted each other.

Ginny blushed and looked away from the intimidating boy standing rather precariously on a table, privately feeling she didn’t need any more congratulations from this Slytherin goalkeeper. He had already embarrassed her enough by giving her a great smacking kiss on her lips when she had first entered the common room.

“Seems you made quite the impression while you were in my body,” an amused voice said from behind her.

Ginny’s eyes lit up happily at the familiar voice, and she turned to look at Draco, noticing the laughter glinting in his grey eyes and the all-famous Malfoy smirk on his face. Her own smile crept onto her face, the smallest of cheeky dimples peeping out.

“Surprised?” she asked, peeping up at him through her dark lashes.

Draco laughed and shook his head. “No. You seem to make a stir wherever you go, whether you’re trying to or not.”

Her lips quivered slightly. “I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not.”

The smirk came back and he leaned against the table watching her with the look of one being thoroughly entertained, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Don’t kid yourself, Weasley. You’ll be getting no compliments from me.”

“And here I was thinking that you had turned over a new leaf and were going to be nice to me from now on.” Her eyes danced mischievously. “But I see you’re still just a great prat.”

He folded his arms, though the smirk still lurked on his mouth. “And I see you still have no manners to save yourself. I hope you’re still not running around with jerseys on your head banging into people.”

Ginny had the grace to blush and fidgeted with the cup of punch in her hand. “I don’t run around with jerseys on my head. I was only doing it that time because I was late for quidditch practise.” Her dimple peeped out again and she looked up at him cheekily through her lashes. “Besides, no one else seems to mind my lack of manners. Greg thinks it’s cute.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Goyle would think anything to do with you is cute. Have you seen him by the way?”

“No.” She looked around the crowded common room and raised her cup of punch to her lips to take a drink. Draco’s hand closed around hers that held the cup and pulled her arm forcefully back down.

“You don’t want to drink that.” He placed the cup down on the table and gestured towards the firewhiskey bottles. “It’s spiked.”

“Thanks.” Ginny said with some relief. The last thing she wanted to do was get drunk and have some over-happy Slytherin take her to his bed to show her just how much he appreciated her helping them win…

Draco said nothing in reply and frowned down at her. “I heard Potter tried to get back with you.”

“Yeah.” Ginny lowered her eyes to the ground as she thought of Harry. That had been a rather awkward time, but Ginny had long since realised she did not love Harry and so had not been moved by his renewal of love for her. He seemed to have taken the refusal at least somewhat well. Sometimes she thought that he felt just as obligated to date her as she had for him. She hoped he found someone though, because for all that Harry frustrated her she did love him as a friend. “He’ll be okay though…”

“So you really don’t like him then?” Draco asked curiously.

She shook her head and met his grey gaze with a sad sort of smile. “I like Harry but I will never love him. I guess I have you to thank for helping me realise that.”

Draco smirked in an almost satisfied way. “Well that’s nice to know. Upsetting Potter is my favourite pastime.”

“You’re terrible!” Ginny scolded with a laugh and hit him lightly on the arm. “Honestly Draco, Harry’s not all that bad.”

“I was pretending to be you for nearly a month and had to deal with him on a day-to-day basis. I think I have enough experience with Potter to safely say I don’t like him. Just because all the rest of the world seems to like golden boy does not mean I have to as well.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I guess you’re right. It’s not like he likes you anyway.”

“My point. The whole world might start spouting peace and love, but nothing will make me want to spend even a second in Harry Potter’s company unless it is to try and make him cry.” His smirk faded into a frown. “I still haven’t succeeded there yet either.”

Ginny could only laugh and shake her head in resignation. “You’ll never change will you?”

“Would you want me to?” Draco asked with a smirk, gazing down at her in that arrogant way only he could pull off.

She met his gaze with a thoughtful look and slowly a smile curved her lips, her eyes softening so that the chestnut colour seemed to take on a golden hue. “No.” she said finally. “I don’t think I would.”

“Ginny come and dance with us!” Pansy yelled suddenly, and tugged Ginny’s arm forcefully to drag her away from Draco over towards where some other Slytherins were dancing.

Draco watched her being led off towards the Slytherin girls and felt that same strange, fluttery warmth settling in his stomach. It seemed even stronger since the time she had hugged him outside her house, and just like then he was confused as to what caused these weird feelings.

He stared at her as she twirled around with the other girls, her long red hair flowing out behind her freely as she danced, her beautiful chestnut eyes sparkling with the spirit that seemed to never die inside her and characterised her so well. She looked so alive… so free. Maybe that was why he couldn’t help but watch her? Everything about her spoke of life and happiness and freedom. She was like a breath of fresh air in a smog-filled world, and he wanted more of it. More of her…

Someone slapped him on the back, disrupting his musings on Ginny, and Draco turned to see Blaise’s friendly face beaming at him. “Where’s our lady of honour?” he asked while peering about the room for that glimmer of red that could only belong to Ginny’s hair.

“Over there.” Draco pointed at Ginny dancing with Pansy and the other girls.

Blaise grinned and ruffled his black hair unnecessarily so that it look more tousled than ever. “How do I look?”

“Does it really matter?” Draco asked, rolling his eyes slightly. “It’s only Ginny.”

“Blasphemy that is.” Blaise grinned and gave a small wink to Draco. “I’m gonna go make my move. Wish me luck!”

Draco said nothing and watched as his friend waltzed over to Ginny and tapped her on the shoulder. He only got a glimpse of her impish face turning in surprise and her cheeks going a bit pink before Millicent blocked his view with her bulky body. Sighing to himself, Draco turned away and picked up a bottle of firewhiskey from the table and took a long swig of the alcohol. For all his ‘it’s only Ginny’ comments, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of annoyance when he saw Blaise and Ginny together.

Spotting Crabbe and Goyle in a corner drinking, Draco made his way over and lounged next to his much larger friends with his own bottle. They both gave him identical, blank looks, their hazy eyes seemingly trying to decipher who it was who had just invaded their corner. Crabbe suddenly cracked a trollish grin and slapped Goyle on the back.

“Look Goyle. It’s Draco.”

Goyle gave an equally trollish grin in reply. “You’re right Crabbe.” His smile died as a frown settled on his lips. “You never told us you were here Draco.” His dull eyes turned back to Crabbe. “He never told us he was here, did he Crabbe?”

“I don’t think so,” Crabbe said stupidly, his eyes going slightly cross-eyed as they flicked to Draco. “Did you?”

“No I didn’t. I only just got here,” Draco ground out impatiently. Sometimes he wondered why he was friends with such blockheads.

Crabbe grinned drunkenly at Goyle. “He didn’t tell us he was here.”

Draco just sighed and gazed about the room, pausing when he saw the familiar figures of a tall tan boy with black hair and a smaller girl with red hair heading off towards the boys’ dormitories. His eyes narrowed and his teeth clenched together in frustration.

“Look at him,” he muttered angrily, his narrowed eyes still following the couple.

“At who?” Crabbe and Goyle asked in unison, both swivelling their heads in opposite directions so that their skulls cracked together loudly.

Draco ignored their drunken swearing being too caught up in his own jealous emotions and gestured at Blaise. “Him.” His hands formed into fists and a dark scowl marred his pale face. “Stupid smarmy git. Who does he think he is flirting with Weasley like that?”

Crabbe’s dull eyes gazed at Draco worriedly and a frown crept onto his normally vacant face. “Uh, that smarmy git is your best friend.”

“So.” Draco’s expression only became more mutinous. He knew he was being unreasonable here but that didn’t mean he would feel any more charitable towards Blaise. He didn’t care if Blaise was his best friend; he didn’t even care that Blaise liked Ginny. He only cared about the fact that seeing them together made his insides burn with unquenchable annoyance. He was jealous of Blaise- so jealous that it made him want to scream, but he was also too damn proud to admit it to anyone, even to himself.

Perhaps if Crabbe and Goyle were not so notoriously stupid and drunk they might have realised why it was Draco was holding such a grudge against their good-natured friend, or at least figured that something was wrong. But, as it was they were both drunk and stupid, and so no one was any wiser on why Draco was looking so particularly murderous that evening or why he had decided to leave the party early muttering curses that would have made even Salazar Slytherin cover his ears in shame…

OOO

Ginny sat down on the bed a little nervous, her cheeks still lightly flushed from seeing Blaise again. Considering the last time she had seen the handsome, amber-eyed boy was when she had just been snogged senseless by him, it was a little understandable that she should be feeling so embarrassed and awkward.

Blaise sat down on the bed next to her, his leg just barely touching hers. “Are you comfortable?” he asked gently, his face a little too close for comfort.

She was very conscious of his leg lightly pressing against hers and squirmed awkwardly, looking anywhere but at his face. “I’m fine.”

He laughed softly and she could feel his warm breath tickling her neck to make the small sensitive hairs prickle pleasantly. Gently he turned her face towards him with his finger and met her gaze steadily with those gorgeous amber eyes. “You’re as stiff as McGonagall. What’s wrong? You’re not afraid of me now are you?”

Her breath hitched sharply at seeing him so close, her heart pounding so hard in her chest that she could feel her whole body pulsing to the rhythm. She stared at his eyes, at his lips, her mind clouding over much like when someone has had too much to drink and can only think foggy thoughts that don’t make much sense. He was just too handsome, too nice… too good to be true…

“Blaise,” she said a little breathlessly, gazing deep into his eyes. “Why did you kiss me that day?”

He frowned for a moment and then shrugged carelessly. “Seemed a good idea at the time.”

At first Ginny thought she hadn’t heard him right, but then the words seemed to register in her heat-fogged brain and quite suddenly she no longer felt so breathless. Standing up quickly, she glared down at him in hurt. “It seemed like a good idea at the time? Is that all I am to you? Just a good idea?”

“No! I mean- Forget what I said!” He stood up with her and grabbed her hands tightly in his. “I like you Ginny. I like you a lot.”

She stared into his amber eyes and thought he was sincere but she was just so confused. That day he had kissed her had been so unexpected, and while she was of course naturally attracted to such a handsome boy, she couldn’t help but wonder if she only thought she might like him because he was just that. Before the kiss he had always just been an amusing friend to have around. She had always known he was handsome and had always been attracted to him, but she had never felt anything really romantic for him. She also couldn’t get rid of the fear that she was just a passing fancy. Blaise had scores of girls flocking after him and had never settled down with the same one for too long. He went through girls like Neville went through Remembralls. It was not a comforting thought.

“I suppose you like me just as you liked Daphne Greengrass, and Padma Patil, and Susan Bones, and-”

“-Ginny,” Blaise interrupted with slightly flushed cheeks. “I know my reputation isn’t perfect, but honestly I wouldn’t do that with you. You’re different to those other girls.”

She wanted to believe him in a way. She wanted to believe him because out of all the boys she knew Blaise was the most handsomest, nicest, and funniest boy in the bunch. She just didn’t know if that was enough for her. Her last relationship had been founded on the childish fancies of a girl enamoured with the legend of Harry Potter- the boy himself had been much different. She didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

“Am I though?”

Blaise seemed floored by her question and frowned as he tried to figure out what to say in reply.

“I don’t think you really like me Blaise.” He opened his mouth to argue but Ginny continued on. “I think you only think you like me. Maybe you even just want to like me.”

“That’s not true.” Blaise gazed down at their intertwined hands. “I do like you Ginny.”

“But do you really?” She frowned and gently pulled her hands away from his. “I just don’t know Blaise. Maybe you do genuinely like me, but I also think that just as soon as you decided to like me you’ll just as quickly find me boring and move on to someone else.”

“I don’t think anyone could get bored of you. You’re perfect in everyway.”

She laughed freely at that. “You’re joking? Blaise are you sure you’re all right in the head? Just ask Draco to tell you what I’m like. I have no manners and I’m always getting into trouble, not to mention I have a family who like to crush boys that come near me unless they’re Harry Potter.”

“I don’t care. I like you Ginny. You’re everything I could want in a girl and more.”

He seemed in earnest, but even if he did like her she still was unsure on her own feelings, and in the durability of his.

“So prove it! Prove to me that these aren’t just empty words.”

Blaise looked down in defeat, clearly at a loss what to say. She doubted he had ever had to explain himself to a girl before, but Ginny was no girl to be taken in by a handsome face and charming personality. He needed to prove his feelings were more than just rehearsed words. He needed to prove that these feelings were real.

“I gotta go Blaise.” She smiled awkwardly at him and quickly left the room.

Sighing to himself Blaise collapsed back on the bed and stared up at the roof. His eyes narrowed in frustration, and his mouth descended into a heavy frown. Never before had a girl refused him. Never before had he been asked to prove his love. Perhaps that was why he was so at a loss in what he could do?

Ginny had been right in thinking Blaise had never needed to explain himself. Girls really did just flock to him, and who could blame them? He was handsome, charming, and could get a smile out of anyone. Placed beside Draco, Crabbe and Goyle he seemed like an angel sent out of heaven. But, there was one fault he carried: his tendency to grow bored. No matter how much Blaise believed himself to be in love with a girl, there was always a point where the lustre would fade and he would lose interest. It was a fatal flaw that could not be remedied easily, and even worse was that he didn’t realise he had this debilitating problem.

And so Blaise continued to ponder how best to win Ginny’s heart, not even realising that their relationship was doomed to failure from the very first moment he thought he liked her.

The door opened and Blaise sat up to see Crabbe and Goyle walk in both with their arms around each other. Not even bothering to wonder how they ended up that way, Blaise just flopped back on the bed and heaved a great sigh.

“What’s wrong with you?” Crabbe asked, now trying to balance his empty firewhiskey bottle on his head.

Blaise held an arm over his eyes in tired exasperation. “How do you prove you like a girl?”

The bottle on Crabbe’s head fell to the ground with a clunk and rolled under the bed. Crabbe’s dull eyes stared at the bed for a moment before turning back to the now irritated Blaise. “Well you could always write a love poem. Girls like those.”

“A love poem, huh?” Blaise thought about it and wondered if that would work. She’d have to realise he really did care about her then if he took the effort to write her a love poem.

“Yeah. Just put some rubbish about her hair and stuff and you’ll have her falling in your lap.”

Goyle grinned. “I’ve had a girl in my lap before. It was nice.”

Blaise shuddered at the image that had just been put in his head. He did not need to know about Goyle’s bedroom escapades.

Ignoring the two trollish boys who were now discussing their triumphs in the bedroom (which oddly were both with Millicent Bullstrode), Blaise reached into his bag and pulled out some parchment, a quill, and a pot of ink. He sat up on his bed and started scribbling on the parchment a poem for Ginny, not quite sure whether he was doing it right or not. He had never written a poem for someone before.

Once more the door opened and all three boys looked up to see Draco walk in looking a little mellower now that he had cooled down. Draco frowned as he took in the odd scene: Crabbe and Goyle standing as if frozen in mid conversation, and Blaise holding a dripping quill with parchment screwed up all around him.

“What are you all doing?”

Crabbe grinned. “Look Goyle, it’s Draco.”

Draco sighed not wanting a repeat of last time. “Yes it’s me, and yes I didn’t tell you I was here.” His eyes flickered to Blaise curiously. “And what are you doing? Obviously these two idiots are still too drunk out of their minds to say anything of value.”

“He’s writing a love poem.” Crabbe butted in, clearly in a talkative mood tonight.

Draco looked at his friend questioningly, and Blaise had the grace to blush under that grey scrutiny. “That’s a first.”

“Well things didn’t go so well.” Blaise admitted with a slight scowl. “Ginny says I don’t really like her but that I just I think I do, so now I’m proving to her that I do like her by writing a love poem.”

“It was my idea,” Crabbe put in proudly.

Frowning to himself, Draco walked over and took the parchment from Blaise’s hands that he had just been working on.

You smell like broomsticks.

I like your hair-

He tore his eyes away from the parchment and stared at Blaise in a sort of amused disbelief. Was Blaise actually serious in thinking this was a good love poem?

“What is this crap?”

“A love poem?” Blaise said tentatively.

Draco laughed. His friend seemed to be able to do everything to get a girl, but clearly writing love poems was not one of his fortes.

“This isn’t a love poem, Blaise. This is the kind of rubbish five year old boys give to their crushes after they’ve spent the past year tugging on her hair.”

“Well I don’t know,” Blaise muttered with an embarrassed scowl and snatched the parchment back. “I’ve never had to write a love poem before for a girl have I?”

Draco’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Maybe you should just give up on her now then, if you can’t even write a poem to get her to accept you that is.”

“I can’t!” Blaise cried exasperatedly, practically tearing his hair out in his frustration. “I can’t give up on her. She means everything to me.”

Perhaps Blaise was right, but Draco didn’t doubt that his friend would also be saying the same thing about an entirely different girl in a few months. He’d seen it happen again and again, and though a small part of him wondered if this time maybe Blaise was really genuine and would continue to like Ginny, the rest of him didn’t want to believe it at all.

“Can’t you help me write the poem Draco?” Blaise suddenly asked, sheer desperation shining through his amber eyes. “Please! I’ll do anything to have her! Please!!”

Draco was all ready to laugh in his friend’s face and tell him to go to hell and figure out for himself how to get Ginny, but then he met those anxious amber eyes and knew he didn’t have the heart to do it. For all that he was a spoilt, selfish brat, Draco genuinely did care about his friends and truly did want them to be happy. As much as he hated seeing Ginny with Blaise, he also knew it was unfair on Blaise to hate him for liking her. He also realised that for all he knew Ginny could genuinely like Blaise. It wouldn’t be right to keep them away from each other because of his own petty jealousy.

“Okay.”

Blaise beamed instantly. “You will?”

“Yeah. Give me the parchment.”

“You got it!” Blaise said happily and handed Draco the parchment, quill, and ink.

Draco dipped the quill in the ink and held it poised above the parchment, his brow creased in deep thought. He thought about Ginny and all that she meant to him, picturing the image of her impish face and long, flowing red hair easily in his mind. Slowly his eyes softened and a small smile began to curl his lips. He didn’t need anything more than that image to write what he needed, and still with the warm smile on his face he began to write the poem.

Once he was finished he silently handed it to Blaise who read it in awed silence.

“This is amazing!”

Draco gave a weak smile, “I hope she’ll like it.”

Blaise practically danced around on the spot. “She’s bound to, and then she’ll realise how much I like her and say yes! I’m gonna send it to her first thing tomorrow morning!”

Finding himself quite unable to listen to Blaise gloat about how much Ginny would fall for him after reading the love poem, Draco walked over to his own bed and collapsed on it with a sigh. Writing that poem had been a bad idea, not because it would help Blaise get Ginny, but because now he realised the one thing that had been staring at him the whole time:

I like her…