Hellooooo, reader.
You know, I've come to enjoy our little one-sided chats. Gives me a place to vent and all without having the tricky little detail of talking to an actual person.
What's that you say? You are a real person?
Well, dearie, to me you just look like a computer. Okay, I get it. I'll give you the freaking story.
Obligatory disclaimer #4: If you're reading this, you know that I don't own the characters or the copyright to this or any other major thingy. Actually, I don't own any copyrights.
Maybe I should fix that.
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Chapter Four: Grytherin
"Why do you keep showing up around me?" Ginny complained as Draco sat down next to her in the library. Only a few mousy first-years scurried around them, oblivious to the mini-drama occurring right under their noses.
"Nice to see you too, Ginny," Draco said, grinning at her. For some reason, he was in a really good mood tonight.
"It's never nice to see you," she grumbled. Because it wasn't. Right?
"Come on, we've got to go," he said, grabbing her hand. She stared at it like it was a disgusting cockroach. Because those weren't tingles of pleasure shooting up her arm. Right?
She didn't move still staring at his hand. Draco rolled his eyes and let go. "Get up or I'll hex you," he threatened, pulling out his wand.
Madam Pince materialized behind him suddenly. "NO WANDS IN MY LIBRARY!"
The blond boy smirked at her. "Sorry, Madam Pince. I won't be as careless next time."
The librarian looked confused for a few seconds, then flapped off to scare some first- and second-years.
"…obviously hasn't seen Filch for a while," Draco observed in an undertone. Ginny giggled, but stopped herself because she didn't want to be seen happy with Draco Malfoy.
"I'm not coming with you if you're going to be so secretive about it," Ginny said snottily, trying her best to sound miffed.
Draco sighed. Why did he have to always pick the stubborn ones to fall for? "I promise I'm not going to trap you, attempt to wrangle information out of you, bring you to the Dark Lord, torture your parents, or any of that other Death Eater crap you think I'm probably going to do."
Ginny knit her eyebrows together, confused. "Well then, where are you taking me?"
"I want you to meet someone. And she's not a Death Eater," he said when she looked reluctant. "Just a Slytherin."
"It has to be private, I can't be seen with you people," Ginny complained.
"Come on." He grabbed her hand again.
This time she made no move to protest. Tingles of happiness filled her body at his touch. She practically floated away as he pulled her gently out of the library and up three flights of stairs. It didn't just feel nice for him to hold her hand, it felt right. Like it was something they ought to be doing. Like they should have tried it long ago.
Then Ginny realized that they had stopped in front of a tapestry and he was waiting for her to respond. She quickly wiped the goofy smile off of her face, even though it had not gone unnoticed by her companion.
"You wanted me to meet a tapestry?" she snapped, still trying to recover. It was difficult when he was still holding her hand.
"It's not the tapestry, it's what's inside the tapestry," Draco explained patiently. He had learned to keep his focus while thinking of Ginny many years ago. You never knew what Legilimenses were around, you know?
"A secret room? How very clichéd," Ginny snorted. She was simply finding a reason to complain. She actually didn't mind very much.
"You said, and I quote, `it has to be private, I can't be seen with you people.'" He gave her A Look.
"Fine," she grumbled. "Just let go of my hand first."
"No can do," he deflected cheerfully.
Ginny didn't complain. She watched him wordlessly as he stretched a hand out to touch the richly embroidered tapestry. A dragon moved through the threaded landscape, cautiously approaching Draco's hand. Its teeth delicately extended and nipped his finger.
He winced. "No matter how many times that damn thing bites me, it still hurts."
She had to dig her nails into her palm to stop herself from fussing over him like an idiot.
There was a dark-brown stain over near the castle. Draco dabbed at it gently with his finger and then stuck it into his mouth, licking away the blood.
He smirked when he caught her looking at him. "Look," said the blond boy, pointing at the spot where he had put his finger.
The dark-brown (which Ginny now realized with a certain amount of disgust was blood) was moving across the sky threaded into the tapestry. It started to spell out words.
WELCOME, MASTER.
"And guest," Draco said sternly. Ginny realized that he was talking to the tapestry. Okay…
AND GUEST.
Then she felt a jerk behind her belly button, almost like a Portkey, and she was pulled into darkness for a couple seconds.
A bright light exploded in her vision, and Ginny had to shield her eyes for a moment. It dimmed, and she lowered her hand to find herself looking at a quaint little room about the size of the interior of Hagrid's hut.
There was a girl sitting on a fluffy armchair in the middle of the room. There were too others just like it. One was red, the other green.
"Pansy Parkinson?" Ginny gasped. He had said that she was going to meet a Slytherin, but she couldn't deal with Pansy. She HATED Pansy. Maybe they could have gotten along, if the older girl had ever interacted with her like she was worth noticing.
To her surprise, the older girl greeted her with a warm grin. "Hi, Ginny. Draco getting to you yet?"
The redhead glared at him. "You could say that."
Pansy laughed, and the faint trace of awkwardness in the air receded. "So how's sixth year going?"
"Killer," Ginny groaned. She launched into a long explanation of how her teachers hated her, Professor Slughorn was out to get her, and McGonaggle didn't care anymore since Harry had dumped her. Pansy listened attentively, nodding and making noises of sympathy at all the right moments. Halfway through Ginny's interpretation of Dean making his famously bad Veratiserum, Draco interrupted her.
"Hate to break it up, girls, but we have a meeting to get to," Draco drawled, staring pointedly at Pansy.
The Slytherin girl rolled her eyes at Ginny. "He sounds like he's all business, but he's really one big softie underneath."
The blond boy smacked his friend on the arm. "Stop spouting my secrets to the world! The mystery factor is the only thing that keeps the girls rolling in." He smoothed back his hair, and Pansy groaned.
Ginny watched these goings-on, feeling a bit like an outsider. They obviously had their own thing going on. The redhead suddenly realized how much she had missed having lots of friends around her. There was Neville, and there was Seamus, but they were basically the only ones who talked to her since Harry had dumped her. Demelza was too busy being popular all the time. And sometimes two gay boys weren't enough, no matter how sweet they were.
For about half a second, Ginny almost wished she had been placed into Slytherin.
Then she remembered that she was only there because she had promised not to hex Malfoy into oblivion. That and the fact that, as much as she detested to admit it, she was inexplicably attracted to him.
No! No, she wasn't.
She hated the happy, harmonious couple of Harry and Hermione. That was why she was here. Revenge. Nothing more.
"Aren't we supposed to be planning how to kill Harry and Hermione?" she said, interrupting the bickering Slytherins.
Both of their heads snapped towards her. "Well, Ginny, we weren't going to kill them, just prank them," Draco said, scratching the back of his head.
"But I thought you'd know loads about killing people, being a Death Eater and everything?" Ginny said. Her hand snuck into her skirt pocket, gripping her wand tightly. Just in case.
The older boy's face contorted into something unrecognizable. His hand twitched to his pocket almost like he was going to draw his wand. Pansy laid a hand on his arm.
Her eyes said: Don't push it. She barely wants to be here anyway.
Draco sighed and pulled his hand out of his pocket. "Sorry, Ginny, I lost my temper."
She gritted her teeth, but he looked so contrite that it was hard to stay mad at him. "Fine."
"Just please don't call me that." He was smirking again; she wanted to slap it off his face.
"Fine," she repeated, throwing herself moodily into the red armchair. It was even more comfortable than it looked, but Ginny refused to acknowledge anything positive about her surroundings.
"So," Draco said with the air of a professor starting a lecture, "shall we begin, finally?"
Nobody answered. He seemed to take this as an affirmative.
"Okay then. The first meeting of the Gritherin Prank Team has officially begun."
Pansy and Ginny burst out laughing at exactly the same time. Tears streamed down their faces as they shrieked with mirth. Draco gazed at them, an expression of faint confusion etched into every line of his face. When they finally slowed down, still gasping from shortness of breath, he asked, "What's so funny?"
Ginny started giggling hysterically again. Pansy explained, while trying not to bust out laughing again. "It sounds like something you pulled out of a whale's butt!"
They all laughed this time. When they had calmed down, Ginny asked, "But if we're not Gritherin, then what are we going to be called?"
"Slythendor?" Pansy suggested.
"I vote for Slythendor," Ginny said, putting her hand up. "All in favor of Slythendor?"
Pansy and Ginny raised their hands. They both stared at Draco until he grudgingly raised his. "So it's unanimous then," Pansy said authoritatively. Draco rolled his eyes. She stuck out her tongue at him.
"Calm down, children," soothed Ginny. "Let's listen to Big Bad Draco tell us exactly what to do," she said to Pansy.
"Yes, enlighten us," chimed in the other girl. They both stared at the boy with wide-eyed, innocent expressions.
Draco grinned evilly. "By the time I'm done with you, Ginny, you will know more about pranks than those prat twin brothers of yours."
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Ginny stumbled into the dormitory at one o'clock in the morning. A fourth-year girl whose name she couldn't remember was sitting on one of the bunks, obviously alive. The girl gestured for her to come out to the common room with her. Inwardly groaning at the prospect of having to stay up even later, Ginny followed the younger girl.
"What's wrong?" Ginny said, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up.
"Demelza asked me to wait for you," the girl said simply.
Ginny was aghast. "That's horrible!"
"It's okay. I haven't slept since I was five." In answer to the redhead's questioning look, she said, "Insomniac."
"Oh. So what did Demelza have to say?"
"She just wanted to know where you had been, stuff like that," said the fourth-year awkwardly.
"I could have told her in the morning," Ginny said indignantly. "She didn't have to put you up to it."
The girl shrugged. "There's really not much to do at night. Plus I think she needed to make sure that you would actually get back."
Ginny rolled her eyes. Demelza, despite being younger by about 8 months, was annoyingly overprotective sometimes. "So what's your name?" she said politely.
"Alice. And you're Ginny."
"That's me…" Ginny said, yawning at the end.
The younger girl looked at her with an expression that could only be described as motherly. "Someone's got to get to bed."
"Yes, Mother," Ginny singsonged. They giggled in a tired way.
The redheaded girl went upstairs. As soon as she hit the pillow, she fell asleep, not minding that she was still wearing clothes.
All night she dreamed of Draco.
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Draco stumbled into the Slytherin common room after the meeting, just as tired as Ginny was. He and Pansy had taken separate routes to derail suspicions, even though it was highly unlikely that even Filch was up at this hour.
Blaise was waiting in the best armchair. The blond boy groaned when he saw him.
"Do you ever sleep?" Draco said, flopping into the second-best armchair. He was prepared for a long chat. Blaise always dragged these things out.
"Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
"I asked first," said the Malfoy boy. He summoned a flask of butterbeer from his dorm room. Blaise accepted his measure in a conjured glass without a word of thanks.
"Sometimes. Are you out of your mind?" he repeated.
"Sometimes," Draco replied infuriatingly. He swigged his butterbeer. "Any specific crazyness this time, Blaise?"
"Give her a little time," Blaise pleaded. "I don't care if you do that angsty Romeo thing in the interim-"
Draco rolled his eyes and cut the other boy off. "Don't compare me to Romeo. He seriously bugs me."
"How do you live with yourself?"
"No idea. Go on," he prompted Blaise.
The dark-skinned boy sighed. "Draco, you can't just go accepting her into the whole screwed-up mess that is Slytherin all at once. Her poor little Gryffindor mind probably couldn't take it."
"Give her a little more credit than that," Draco pleaded.
Blaise pointed at him. "You see what I mean? Total Romeo thing you just did. `Wasting away for love,' and all that sentimental crap."
"I'm not looking for an argument. Just get to the point."
"Look, you can't have her meeting all of us at once-"
"She met Pansy. It's not like I was inducting her or anything! And they got along fine, once Ginny got past her prejudices."
"You're going to have to explain it to her sooner or later."
Draco looked up at the suddenly deadened tone of his companion's voice. Blaise was staring into the green flames, his eyes weirdly reflecting the colors of the flickering fire. When he spoke, his voice was impersonal, detached.
"I just don't want you to get hurt. Or her. Take it slow with the whole Death Eater thing, okay? For me."
Blaise finally turned his gaze on Draco, and his eyes were fevered, intense. "Please don't make the same mistakes that I did. Don't let her slip through your fingers."
Draco raised his eyebrows. The gesture would have looked slightly ludicrous on someone else, but the blond boy still managed to look coolly handsome. "What the hell are you talking about, Blaise?"
In a trice the strange look was gone from the dark boy's eyes. His face was empty, slack, devoid of emotion. "Nothing," he replied, his voice sounding odd. "I'm just really tired. Go on up to bed, I'll be up in a few minutes." Blaise forced a smile as if to say, Hey, I'm fine, everything's just peachy, nothing wrong here.
Once Draco had gone, the fake smile dropped off his face. Blaise rubbed the fine fuzz of hair on his head, as he was apt to do when agitated. He paced around the room, frantically looking for something to keep his mind off the one thing he couldn't think of.
Finally he gave up and flopped into the armchair closest by the fire. "Love is really stupid," muttered the dark boy, rubbing his long-fingered hands over his face.
Then he waited for the face to appear in the fire, as it always did every night.
She came. He knew she would.
"Alice," he said fake-chipperly. "How goes the struggle with Mr. Weasley?"
And that, Blaise thought, was irony. Pushing love advice about another man upon the one girl you thought was for you.
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Another day, another chapter!
I just realized that this is going to be waaaaay longer than my last fic. I hope that's a good thing.
So, thankies:
Rihanna. Shut Up and Drive is stuck in my head.
JKR. Draco Malfoy is a gorgeous character.
YOU! Aren't you glad you just got thanked?
Remember to read and review, no matter what your mom tells you to do! (I have no idea what that has to do with anything, but bear with me. I'm tired.)
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