Chapter Three: Action
"I can not believe you just did that…" Hermione said, looking ill.
"Yeah," Ron seconded, "That's even more disgusting than Ginny snogging the Greasy Slimeball in front of the whole school."
Harry swallowed down another of his stomachs attempts to embarrass him. As he slapped a hand over his mouth Hermione whacked Ron on the arm with a monstrosity of a textbook that probably weighed a good twenty pounds.
"What?!" Ron demanded.
She hit him again. "That's what made him sick in the first place, you dolt!"
Ron suddenly cottoned on. "OH!" he exclaimed. "So I shouldn't tell him that Draco has his hands in my sister's -" Ron suddenly turned almost as green as Harry and spun in his seat so that his back faced the entire scene. He buried his face in his hands and struggled, as Harry was doing, not to return the contents of his stomach to the his plate. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Honestly." She sniped. "Obviously she's just trying to get back at you Harry, by putting her hands all over Malfo - er, well. Don't look, Ronald."
"Obviously," replied Harry, ignoring her last remark. "I think it might be working. I feel awful."
"No, you feel ill. If you felt awful, you would apologize." Hermione corrected him primly. "And it's just as well that you feel sick. Anyone would, if they were you. It was a very low thing you did, Harry."
Ron snorted. "As low as snogging Malfoy?"
"I would never snog Malfoy." Harry said automatically.
"I should bloody well hope not!"
Harry turned pink.
"You have! Haven't you?!" Ron burst out, triumphant and disgusted at the same time.
"What? No!" Harry yelled, quite a bit louder than he had intended to. A friend of Ginny's with long white blonde hair turned and looked at him with an expression of bewildered amusement. Harry tried to sneer, but without the practice that Malfoy had, it looked more like he had smelled something awful than anything frightening.
"Well, what did you blush for then?" Ron whispered fiercely, and then looked at Harry curiously, taking on an uncanny resemblance to a detective, seeing him for the first time. "You aren't a poofter, are you?"
"No, I am not a poofter!" Again, Harry had not intended to make his voice quite so loud. Ron raised an eyebrow at him, not entirely convinced.
"If you're sure," he said. And then he went back to eating the mountain of scrambled eggs he still had on his plate.
Harry groaned and threw his head into his folded arms. This was definitely not his favourite day.
"Is he watching?" Ginny whispered in Draco's ear, just before nibbling on his earlobe. As soon as she caught his skin with her teeth he shivered violently. She tried not to giggle. It was quite a power rush, making the Slytherin Sex God anything less than completely composed.
"Yes. He's watching. Wait, no- he's turned around. Oh my God that's revolting!" he spat. She had just traced the outer ridge of his ear with the tip of her tongue, and a deep blush crept over her collarbone. She had gone too far, too soon. Now what? What -
His hands pushed her back a little bit and he whispered into her ear. "Don't look now, but the Boy Wonder just got sick all over the Gryffindor table. I think it's working." He nipped her ear like she had done his.
She shivered just as violently as he had, before his words registered and her head whipped around before she could stop herself. "What did you say?"
Harry was sitting forlornly at the table, staring at his plate - and mess - while everyone in the immediate area were leaping to their feet and trying to escape as fast as they could. Once everyone was far enough to be out of scent range, Hermione crawled onto the table and cast a quick scourgify, her nose held closed with her fingers for good measure. After deeming it safe, the rest of them slowly crept back to their seats, throwing very dirty looks at Harry the whole while.
Ginny couldn't help it. She tried valiantly not to laugh, but there was no stopping the massive, diaphragm wracking urge that was creeping up her throat. She laughed until the beginnings of tears formed in the corners of her eyes, resting her forehead against Draco's collarbone to keep herself up. She could feel a light laugh emanating from his torso as well, but he didn't find it nearly so amusing as she did. When her sides were hurting too much to laugh any more, she sat up straight and looked at Draco again. His eyebrows were raised into a mocking gesture reminiscent of arrogance, but he didn't look put off by her, which was a relief. She had feared she had overdone it a little bit, but growing up with the twins had meant that her ability to laugh loud and long was untainted and completely fresh.
She suspected that Draco didn't laugh enough.
"Sorry. Is he looking again" she asked.
He glanced out of the corner of his eye and nodded very slightly.
"Oh. Okay then." She pushed herself closer to him on the bench and grabbed a fistful of his hair, twining her fingers through it, overjoyed that it was long enough to do this, and pulled his face closer to her own. His hands travelled slowly up her arms, one slipping beneath her elbow to snake around her back and trace her spine and the other reaching her neck and rubbing small circles lightly into her skin. When her lips caught his, a feverish burning began in the pit of her belly and spread over her like she was being submersed in a river of floo fire and she loved it.
His tongue swept expertly around the outline of her mouth, darting closer and closer to the crease and then finally his fingers left her neck and he used a thumb to prod her mouth open. She had never had a boy do this before, and found that instead of finding it too much, she quite liked it. She nipped at his thumb but let it stay, flicking it with her tongue when his own retreated for a second.
Her hand other than the one in his hair came from the bench and grabbed at the hand he held to her face, clenching it and placing it at the base of her throat, spreading his fingers until they covered almost her whole shoulder and part of her chest. His hands were huge!
A few frenzied minutes later, she remembered that while she wanted Harry to be distraught, she did not want to go at it with Draco Malfoy on the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Actually, she was surprised that no teachers had noticed yet. She came up for another breath.
"Draco," she said, shivering again when he moved his hungry mouth down her cheek to her jaw, and from her jaw to the hollow just below her ear.
"Draco," she said again, trying to push him away. He ignored her, moving down her neck to her collar bone.
"Draco!" She said, a little bit louder. She slapped his hands away and grabbed a bunch of his hair again to move his head back to her eyelevel.
"Draco, that's enough for one day, I think." She told him sternly, smiling at his almost crestfallen face.
"You think? There's always room to change your mind," he smirked, leaning in again. One of his hands traveled down her spine to the start of her waistband.
"No, Draco." She swatted his hand away. "Besides, you get as much snogging as you want tomorrow."
"Hogsmeade," she reminded him.
"Oh. Right." He grinned, the most lascivious grin she had ever seen, sending a chill from the nape of her neck to the tips of her toes. "Good. Snogging."
She held in the eye rolling. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Draco. And thanks." She winked as she swung her leg over the bench. As she was walking away she muttered to herself. Oh my God, I am such a hussy.
But then she smiled. Being a hussy wasn't always a bad thing, was it?
The next morning
The first Hogsmeade morning of the year dawned as crisp and beautiful as it ever had, a cool breeze gently blowing the autumn leaves to rest on the ground in a display of color rivalled only by the brightly pigmented paint on an artist's palate. Ginny looked out of her dormitory window and noticed none of this, seeing only the very tips of the Hogsmeade house spires in the distance over the tops of the unforbidden forest across the lake, and feeling something vaguely resembling nervousness somewhere in the region of her chest.
Of course, it was absolutely pointless to be nervous. Of course nothing was going to happen. Of course, Ginny had never gone on a date with someone she hadn't been friends with for a good long while first. Of course, what she and Draco were doing had absolutely nothing to do with friendship, and so of course she was a bit nervous.
Anything could happen.
She shook her head to clear it. It was time to get ready.
While she had never been the sort of girl to care overly much about how she looked, she found that she was slowly sinking into the stereotypical half of girls who lay awake the night before a particular event agonizing over the perfect outfit for said event.
She had gotten almost no sleep, completely torn between jeans or a cute skirt. Looking out the window helped none, because while it was perfectly warm enough to warrant showing a little bit more skin, it was also cool enough to wear jeans.
A noise of disgust escaped her throat and she spun from the window in frustration.
"Jeans!" she said finally, making up her mind. She nodded to herself. "Jeans are good. Those nice ones I made…" she turned towards the showers. " But a skirt would be really cute. Especially that little black one - with a nice sweater…" She balled her hands into fists in her hair. "But what if we want to do some walking or something? Jeans!" She nodded again. "Especially as it's Draco. Wouldn't trust him `round a skirt even if he were twenty feet away. Probably spell it off or something," she mumbled. "Jeans."
"Are you alright, Ginny?" Sterling called groggily from her bed.
"Yeah, go back to sleep."
She gathered her shower things and headed off to the sixth year showers, passing the sleeping forms of the rest of her dorm mates.
As she showered she considered just what she had gotten herself into. A mess, obviously. But truly, she thought, this mess contained lots and lots of really fantastic snogging.
She hadn't really thought about how important snogging was to a relationship. As Harry had been awful at it, she supposed she hadn't missed anything. But after snogging Draco Malfoy, and in front of the whole school, no less, she could understand how it would cement the attraction and feelings of two people otherwise only halfway inclined. And how snogging could bring about confusing feelings from a person who before said snogging had absolutely no inclination towards the other person. Like her confusing thoughts of Draco Malfoy.
Which brought about another potential problem. If she had already snogged the best snogger around, who was left to snog? She puzzled over that as she conditioned her hair.
If when she was with Harry, she simply hadn't known what she was missing, well that was one thing. But if she now knew exactly what she had been missing because of snogging that to which all other snogs would now be compared, how exactly would she ever be able to go through with another relationship and not be completely dissatisfied everytime the poor bloke leaned in for a kiss? What could she do?
Obliviation was one option. Once the whole debacle with Draco was finally over and Harry had justly received his dues, she could memory charm away all memories of the absolutely delightful snogs she had received via Draco Malfoy.
But memory charms were well known to be fragile and even at the best of times difficult. She could end up like Gilderoy Lockhart and stuck inside a mind that she didn't recognize. No, obliviation was best left to professionals. And she didn't think `the snogs were too good' would be reason enough for a professional to lend his services.
She could search for a better snog. She could go around or set up a kissing booth or something disguised as a charity thing and rope in the boy who had the best kisser. Or she could simply wear a sign round her neck saying `free snogs!' and go with the boy who was the best.
But no, she was already getting labelled `easy' and `hussy', and if the best snogger out there had any morals to speak of, he wouldn't be caught dating a bimbo. No, that wouldn't work either.
She refused to live life knowing what the best felt like and not having it.
She turned off the shower.
She would simply have to keep Malfoy.
An hour or so later a small eagle owl came to peck at Ginny's window, a small note in its beak. After letting it in and giving it a treat, she tore open the note, which she found was from Draco.
Good morning, Miss Weasley.
What time should you like to meet at the Entrance? I await your pleasure.
And your mouth.
She nearly choked but saved herself. Good Lord, he was a snarky bastard, wasn't he?
She folded the note over and pulled a quill from her school bag.
Half nine, Mr. Malfoy.
I will see your snogging appendage at the stairs.
She gave it to the owl and sent him off, before hurrying to haul on her jeans. They were frightfully tight but they made her bum look good, and so she didn't mind overly much.
She had just finished her hair when the owl appeared at her window again, the same note in his beak.
His reply was written underneath her own in his elegant scrawl.
My appendage awaits.
Keep your pecker in your pants, Malfoy. Snogging only.
She sent it back to him, and with a light spritz of some perfume she was ready. She grabbed her purse and she made her way to the entrance. At the top of the stairs stood her `date', dressed to be dashing and rakish in a pair of charcoal grey trousers and a cream coloured shirt, his hair tousled and lightly curling over the collar of his black jacket.
"Miss Weasley," he said, holding out his hand when he saw her.
"Mr. Malfoy." She giggled. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, somehow managing to extract the same amount of shivery goose bumps from the simple graze of his lips across her knuckles as he did from snogging her senseless.
Oh yes, Draco Malfoy wasn't going anywhere.