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Something to Talk About
Mei Queen
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Authoress' Note: It's been four years. My bad. If you'd like to see my varied attempts at excuses, please read the latest chapter of "Whip Him into Shape," where my authoress' note is actually more like a novel...
This chapter is dedicated to dracokitten, for reading and reviewing this morning. You know you have special reviewers when they know you haven't updated in four years, and still review anyways. :)
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Mood Music: Imagine Dragons and The Lumineers :)
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RECAP:
If her words made him uneasy, he didn't show it.  Instead, Draco smirked. "Ginny's my girlfriend.  I'm prefect. She can be up if she wants."
Romilda pouted, wrinkling her nose prettily.  "I don't see what you see in her, Malfoy.  She's very plain- doesn't seem your style at all. However…I'm available anytime you're interested."
Ginny's eyes widened. She had never liked Romilda, especially given the fact that Romilda's stupid chocolates almost poisoned her brother, but she disliked the backstabbing brunette even more now.
"What a charming offer. The bird Potter didn't want.  You know, I can't say that's much to my tastes, but thanks anyway," Draco retorted sarcastically.
Romilda snorted. "Oh, well, aren't we particular?  That's a little odd coming from someone supposedly 'dating' yet another of Potter's castoffs."
Ginny's eyes narrowed. Oh, how she wanted to deck this bint.  If only Draco would bloody move out of her way…
Draco stayed in front of her though, as if sensing the Weasley's fraying temper.  "Yes, but he actually wanted Ginny, if only for a time. He never wanted you, and though I never thought I'd agree with the bastard, I can certainly see why."
Romilda's eyes darkened. "Bollocks! I don't believe anything you're saying, Malfoy.  Actually…" she said, looking from Ginny to Draco with a devious glint in her brown eyes, "I don't believe that you two are dating."
"Why does everyone keep bloody saying that?" Ginny asked in exasperation. "Yes, we are."
Then, if for no other reason than to prove a point to that stupid hag Romilda, Ginny got on her tiptoes to kiss Draco Malfoy soundly on the mouth.
A few moments later, when Romilda had left out of sheer disgust, Ginny settled on the heels of her feet, looking thoughtfully up at Draco. Â
Draco looked back at her intently for a few moments before saying, "We need to make this more believable, Gin.  Too many people are starting to ask questions. I can't just keep snogging you every five seconds to prove we're legitimate."
"Or…" Ginny replied, unable to believe she was actually giving Malfoy the permission to do this, she murmured, "you could."
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Chapter 5: Match Day Madness
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The excitement was tangible that morning at breakfast. Students wore their House colors in the form of scarves, hats, and in Luna Lovegood's case, a real talking raven hat. Rolled-up posters sat on the benches next to the more artistic students, ready to be unfurled out on the pitch later. Everyone was eager to see the outcome of the Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff Quidditch match -- everyone, that is, except Ginevra Weasley.
Ginny was more concerned about the stalker situation she'd been putting up with for the past few weeks, you see. Though Draco Malfoy had been a help to the investigation, she still didn't feel any closer to finding out his or her identity. He had even done a stakeout with her the night before, but as if sensing their presence, the stalker didn't try anything for the hours upon hours the Slytherin and Gryffindor had been waiting in the hallway. But today, a day when basically the entire school would be out on the Quidditch pitch, well, today was an ideal day to do dark deeds in the Gryffindor dorms.
Should I even go to the match today? Ginny wondered to herself, twirling an apple about in her palm. There are few things worse to imagine than running into the stalker in person, but what if by going to the match, I'm essentially giving permission for this harassment to continue? I'd be seeing an opportunity to confront the stalker in a time when he or she would be likely to strike, and I wouldn't have taken it.
"Hey, Gin."
Ginny shook off her reverie, and looked up into the steely grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. He was standing rather awkwardly behind Olivia and Blythe, plainly uncomfortable to be this close to where Gryffindors sit. "Hi, Draco."
"Can we talk for a second? Outside, I mean," he clarified, gesturing to the double doors at the end of the hall.
She nodded and got up to follow him. Her heart jumped slightly in surprise when he reached back for her hand.
Ginny was pretending to be Draco's girlfriend in exchange for his bodyguard protection. Most of the time, this pretending didn't entail much--just the occasional snog when Pansy Parkinson happened to be in passing. However, lately their spotty acting performances had been raising too many questions. She and Draco had discussed late last night how to act a bit more committed, so fewer people would question if they were really dating. One of her solutions had been this, holding hands basically everywhere.
His solutions, naturally, involved more snogging. She didn't know if she should feel complimented by that.
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Outside the double doors, they immediately turned to the right, away from prying eyes. Draco quickly released her hand, and Ginny was surprised to see that she missed the warmth and pressure that had been there just moments before.
"So, I've been thinking..." they both began at once.
She grinned. "Go ahead."
He smiled back briefly. "I've been thinking that I'm going to stand guard at your dorm again today. It's really an ideal time for your stalker to make a move."
She nodded. "I'd been thinking the same thing, actually. But I was thinking last night, Draco--maybe he--or she, I guess, didn't do anything yesterday because we were in plain sight in front of the Fat Lady. Maybe we should hide today, somewhere where we have a clear view of the portrait."
Draco tapped his finger against his chin. "You may be right. We could catch them unawares, have the element of surprise. Whoever's doing this won't want to be caught, so it would make sense if they had delayed their plans yesterday after seeing us there waiting for them."
"Right," she nodded. "So when do you want to meet and find our hiding spot?"
"Our hiding spot, Red? I didn't say you'd be doing this with me."
"But I did the stakeout with you just yesterday!" she retorted. She was plainly angry with the controlling blond Slytherin now.
"So? You said yourself that the stalker was unlikely to strike yesterday. Today will be more dangerous, and you'd be safer on the pitch," he said slowly, like she was extremely dense for not seeing these facts immediately.
"Oh, like you care about my safety now?!" Ginny's voice had reached banshee-level screeching. Draco immediately tried to hush her -- students were starting to finish their breakfasts, and he'd rather not have them walking in on his idea of personal hell: deafness by redhead.
Ginny, however, didn't care that Draco was getting embarrassed about how loud she was being. In her mind, he was the one being unreasonable. She'd had to deal with this from the very beginning. She was the one being harassed. She deserved to be there to find out immediately who had been doing this to her, and she sure as hell deserved to give that person the first dose of some of her favorite hexes.
Draco was beginning to see that trying to hush a Weasley was a losing battle. As the Great Hall doors began to open to let out the morning breakfast crowd, he did the first thing that came to mind: he reached down, cupped the redhead's face, and pressed his lips to hers. He traced senseless patterns on her cheek with his thumb and sweetly deepened the kiss in a way he'd never tried before with her. He nibbled gently on her bottom lip and ran his fingers through her soft auburn waves.
Finally, he dared to pull away, and to his great relief, there was no more screeching. Ginny's eyes were wide, her mouth a perfect "o" of surprise. Draco noted with satisfaction that her lower lip looked slightly redder than usual, almost swollen from his ministrations. He realized, then, that they'd had an audience. Most of the students who'd just left breakfast had been watching and had even stopped to stare.
Ginny noted dimly that, as usual, Luna was watching placidly, as if she had expected this turn of events from the very beginning.
When Draco spoke, his voice seemed huskier than usual, and he spoke in a quiet whisper. "All right, you can stay with me today. But we do this my way."
She thought she nodded in response, but honestly, she wasn't sure.
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One hour later, Ginny found herself in the hallway outside the Gryffindor common room for the second time in two days. She scuffed her trainers against the cold floor, pacing back and forth in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. Where the fuck is Draco? He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago! He's never late...
Most students had gone straight to the pitch from breakfast. Ginny could hear the din from the pitch even from here. She started turning from side to side in the corridor, trying to find a good hiding spot that she -and Draco, if he ever chose to show his bloody Slytherin prince face- could use later.
"What are you doing there, Weaselette? Looking for Galleons?"
She stopped in her tracks and rolled her eyes. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy for the second time today. Since the first time had gone so bloody well, Ginny found herself distinctly on edge. Her lip still felt a little swollen from where he'd kissed her.
"Not that it's any of your business, Malfoy, but no, I am not. I was looking for a hiding spot for us to use during the match."
Draco quickly looked around the corridor to see if anyone heard his "girlfriend" calling him by his surname, but the hallway was thankfully deserted. He turned back to her, annoyance apparent on his features.
"Not that it's any of your business, but I've already found one. Found it about twenty minutes ago."
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "You mean when you said you were going to meet me in front of the Fat Lady?"
"Oh, Merlin, Red. It was an estimation, not exact, for fuck's sake. Besides, I said I'd find a good spot for us to watch the portrait, and I did. Let's try to be civil, and just bloody use that spot I found."
She sighed. He was right--he'd found a hiding spot for the both of them on a day when she was sure he'd rather be at the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the school. She could at least be civil to him. "Sorry, you're right."
"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, still slightly shocked.
"You're right. Would you like me to send you a written version by owl?"
He turned and started heading to an abandoned classroom, and Ginny reluctantly followed. "Actually, yes, if you wouldn't mind sending me a written version to that effect, I'd definitely appreciate it. I'll bring it out anytime you accuse me of something...so, in all likelihood, at least five times a day."
"That will be one busy piece of parchment," she muttered. Part of her wanted to be annoyed with Draco for his flippant replies, but the other part was simply amused.
He snorted. "Yes, yes it will, Red."
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"How long has it been now?" Ginny groaned.
Draco sighed. "At least a few hours."
They were leaning against some unused desks, the door to the classroom open just wide enough to allow the two of them an unobstructed view of the Gryffindor portrait.
"So we've been sitting in silence for..." she muttered, trailing off.
"...at least two hours, yeah."
Ginny shook her head. "I think I'm going to go insane if nothing happens soon. Do you want to talk?"
He sat up, running his hand through his icy blond hair. "What about?"
"Anything. Don't care. We had this awkward conversation on what to converse about last night, didn't we?"
"Yeah," he muttered. "It was a little circular, wasn't it?"
"You could say that," she replied, chuckling. She leaned back against the wall next to Draco and looked over at him with a grin. "So...is it your question or mine?"
"What?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"
"The game we were playing last night."
Draco's eyebrows narrowed. "That was a game? That is not a game. Quidditch is a game. This is an inane way to pass time."
"...which is what most games are, anyway," she quipped. "Fine, I'll go first. What is your favorite color?"
"Either dark green or silver, probably-"
"-well, that wasn't predictable at all," she interjected quickly, giggling.
He smirked. "And you, Little Miss Gryffindor?"
She attempted her most serious expression. "Red or gold, of course...Merlin, I can't even say that short sentence with a straight face. Purple."
"That's a decent colour, thankfully not a bloody school-spirited one."
She snorted. "Oh, yeah. The antithesis of school spirit, that's me."
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About twenty minutes later, they'd exhausted all of the possible "favorite" questions either of them could think of, and Draco had begun to realize that this inane game could actually be useful to both of them.
"People keep saying we're not a believable couple, right?" he asked quickly.
She nodded. Of course they did. It had been a constant source of annoyance to her lately, actually. "So?"
"We could use this game to find out more about what the other one likes...it could help make this relationship a little more believable."
"That's a good idea." Ginny was surprised to find that she actually believed it was, in fact, a good idea. "Okay, then. What would your perfect birthday present be?"
He grinned. "Um...I don't really care that much about presents. I don't need anything."
"But if you had to pick something," she pressed.
"A new owl," he answered quickly. "Mine's kinda a jerk, to be honest."
"Your owl is a jerk," she echoed hollowly. At first she couldn't believe his answer, and then she thought it was hilarious. "I'm sorry, your owl is a jerk?! Maybe he learned from the best over there in Slytherin."
"She, actually," Draco replied soberly. "She's quite the bitch."
Ginny snorted. "Of course she is. Oh, Merlin. Your question."
"No," he countered. "You have to answer, too. Your perfect birthday gift?"
She grinned. "A kneazle. Preferably a live one, to make up for the ones slaughtered on my bed last week."
By the end of that sentence, neither Ginny or Draco were smiling, and both of their gazes traveled to the portrait down the hall. Still, nothing out of the ordinary. Come to think of it, neither of them had seen anyone pass in the hours they'd been waiting there.
"All right, fluffy kneazles, check," he said quietly, ending the awkward moment of silence that had settled between them. "My turn. How do you like to be kissed?"
"You seem to have figured that out pretty well on your own today," she murmured, her gaze trailing to the ground. Her cheeks were reddening; she could feel the sudden heat, but only got more nervous as a result.
"The nibbling thing?" he asked curiously. Did she really like that? I'd partially only been doing that just to shut her up...but I have to admit, I did enjoy it...
She was sure her cheeks must look like they were on fire now. How embarrassing. "Yes, that."
He had no idea what possessed him to ask what he did next, maybe it was his thoughts of how much he'd enjoyed it earlier: "Would you like to try it again?"
Ginny's eyebrows knit in confusion. "But, Draco, there's nobody here to see it."
"I know," he murmured. "It'd be...practice."
Her heartbeat was beginning to escalate. Her cheeks were still warm, but she looked at Draco's grey eyes, eyes that seemed so unbelievably intent and serious. "Okay."
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Twenty minutes later, the clacking of student shoes interrupted their kiss.
They broke apart immediately, both trying to be as quiet as possible. Draco silently grabbed Ginny's hand and pushed her behind him. She peered over his shoulder to get a better view, both staring eagerly through the crack in the doorway.
The shoes were coming down the corridor where their abandoned classroom was located, so first Ginny and Draco saw legs. Female legs wearing black ballet flats.
Then a skirt. Then a jumper. She was thin.
Then...brown hair. Dark, glossy chestnut hair swung down this girl's back, obedient in a way that Ginny Weasley knew hers would never be. A plaid headband held it neatly back.
"Can you see her face?" Ginny whispered softly in Draco's ear.
He shivered. God, why did the Weaselette's voice affect him in this way? "No," he whispered back. "But she looks about the right height to be..."
The girl stopped in front of the Fat Lady and leaned in to whisper the password. As the portrait swung open, the girl looked left and right, up and down the corridor. In that moment, Ginny and Draco both clearly saw her face, and they spoke her name at the same time.
"Romilda."
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Authoress' Note (Part 2): Reviews are good for the soul.