His Girl 1/2
Title: His Girl
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Ginny, Harry/Pansy, Ron/Hermione
Word count: 5387
Rating: PG-13, R for language
Disclaimer: Not mine at all. Cliches everywhere.
When did it start? If he had to, he’d be hard pressed to pinpoint the defining moment he knew he wanted her. The moment he knew he loved her. She’d always been there. She was funny, quick to put one of her brothers, or him for that matter, in their place. She was a tough little thing, and could certainly handle herself in a fight. She’d proved that at the Ministry with a broken ankle, no less. She was pretty enough; she had ‘the girl next door’ good looks. She looked a lot like her eldest brother, actually, but prettier. She was a mate. She was one of the guys. Like Hermione. She was always there. Always steady. She was a constant that he could count on.
Until early November last year.
Voldemort died. It was remarkably easier than anyone thought it would be. His death came about by an insurrection of his followers, ironically enough. The Death Eaters evidently felt that he was getting too radical even for their evil tastes.
The Slytherin children of the Death Eaters were mostly unaffected by the final battle. Most of them hadn’t been indoctrinated yet. They weren’t evil, they just didn’t care. Apathy wasn’t as bad as evil, in his eyes anyway. Even Malfoy turned out to be not such a bad sort. Once you waded through all the egotism and disdain, and the fact that he was a prick, he was just another bloke. He even began thinking of him as just ‘Draco’, actually. They’d fought side by side in the final battle and saved each other’s necks more than once. You can’t owe a life debt to someone, and have them owe you in return, without becoming, at least begrudgingly, friends.
Later that year, when Gryffindor played Slytherin, they had shaken hands and joked around before the game. But the match itself was brutal. Endless, torrential rain poured on the pitch, soaking everyone to the skin. The Impervious Charm wasn’t even working anymore. He couldn’t see shite before him and he knew Draco was using it to his advantage. It was during that match that he realized that he’d been watchingher more than looking for the Snitch. She flew gracefully and effortlessly, tossing and catching the Quaffle with the other Chasers, executing expert precision. He watched her rolling to avoid a Bludger, her long hair streaming back behind her in a blazing ponytail. He was listening to her mouthing off to one of the Slytherin beaters when he knew.
He fancied Ginny Weasley.
He redoubled his efforts to find the Snitch. As soon as he caught it, and the game was over, he would ask her to go for a walk. Er, no, the rain. Maybe he’d ask her to the kitchens for hot chocolate and tell her how he felt. Pure joy bubbled up in his chest. He knew she liked him; she’d had a crush on him since her first year. Maybe even before then. He grinned widely.
The grin was wiped suddenly off his face when he saw a streak of green and silver go by him. Draco had spotted the Snitch. Damn. He flew after him, gathering speed, and then he heard Madame Hooch’s whistle. Slytherin had won; Draco had caught it. Damn again. And then, as if to prove that the gods had a deranged sense of humour, the rain abruptly let up.
Brilliant, he thought.
He flew down slowly and watched the two teams shake hands and perform drying charms. The Slytherin team was celebrating already.
So what. He had more important things to attend to. Like Ginny.
He had just landed when he saw them. Draco had his arm draped casually across her shoulders. And she, in return, had her arm around his waist.
That’s strange,he thought.
Then the unthinkable happened. Draco leaned down and kissed her.
His stomach flip-flopped. Draco Malfoy kissed Ginny. His Ginny. And from the looks of it, it wasn’t the first time it had happened. They looked comfortable with each other, relaxed, even. Happy.
He stood with his mouth open, watching them. This wasn‘t right. It was not right. Ron and Hermione approached him.
“Hey, Harry. Rotten luck, that, mate,” Ron said, gesturing to the pitch.
Hermione nodded. “I’m sorry I don’t know a stronger charm for your glasses.”
A drawling voice cut in, “I’ve told him that there are Healers that can take care of poor eyesight. Yet he insists on wearing those ridiculous things,” Draco said. There was collective laughter. The blond stuck out his hand.
“Good game, Harry.”
Harry reached out and grudgingly, shook it. “Yeah, congratulations.”
Draco smiled down at Ginny as he said, “We’re having a celebration down in the dungeons. If you Gryffs are brave enough to come down, you’re welcome to.”
He smiled? Since when did Draco Malfoy smile?
Ron looked indignant. “Hmph. We’ll bring the Butterbeer.”
Ginny poked Draco in the side. “Yeah. As if we’d be scared of you, you great prat.”
Draco laughed. Apparently the bastard’s ticklish. “There was a time, Gin, when you were scared of me,” he replied.
Hermione lifted an eyebrow. “Draco, that ship has sailed. You’re not nearly as scary when you’re being tickled by a girl,” she commented, as Ginny began a full assault.
“Okay, okay,” he said breathlessly. “You win, Gin.” When she didn’t stop, he picked Ginny up by the waist and threw over his shoulder. She laughed loudly.
“Come on, Red.” Draco started up toward the castle. “You lot stop by the kitchens first, yeah?” he said, as he looked back at the trio. “Losers bring food, too.”
Harry stared at them. After about twenty paces and gales of giggling from Ginny, Draco put her down and they continued up the grounds hand in hand. Harry himself, however, was rooted to the spot.
Hermione frowned. “Harry? Something wrong?”
Ron clapped him on the back. “You can’t catch it every time, mate.” He chuckled. “Hey, you killed Voldemort, so we’ll let the Quidditch match slide, okay?”
Hermione looked at Harry critically. “That’s not it, Ron.”
Ron gave Hermione a skeptical glance. “Huh?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s noticed, Ron.”
“Noticed what?” Ron asked, as they began walking away from the pitch.
“Ginny and Draco,” Hermione replied.
“Oh,” Ron said quietly.
Harry looked at them with wide eyes. “How long has this been going on?” he asked. “Do neither of you find it. . . odd?”
Hermione sighed. “They’ve been together for some time, Harry. Since before Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It’s a funny story, actually.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Harry said.
“Honestly. You really don’t pay attention, do you?”
Harry scowled at her. He turned to Ron. “You approve of this?”
Ron looked taken aback. “Well, yeah, Harry. You’re the one that convinced us Draco’s not all bad. You even made us start calling him by his bloody first name! In fact, if you can get past the fact that he’s a giant arse, he’s all right.”
“And he’s quite fit,” Hermione giggled. “Ginny’s so lucky, really.”
“Oi. Watch it, Hermione,” Ron said, grinning. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
Harry gaped at them. Has the world gone insane? “What in the bloody hell is going on here?”
Hermione blushed. Ron grinned broadly. “We’ve been together a little longer than Ginny and Draco.”
Hermione reached over and put a finger under the raven-haired boy’s chin to close his mouth. “Harry,” she sighed fondly. “So thick.”
“I am not!”
“Okay, okay. Well, you certainly don‘t pay attention, do you?”
“Well, I’ve had a lot to do recently,” Harry fumed. He took a deep breath and smiled at his two best friends. “It’s about time, though.”
“Hm,” Hermione replied absently. She took Ron’s hand. “I’m going to change. I’ll be down in a moment, okay?”
Ron watched her go while Harry watched Ron closely. The whole world had gone upside down. That was it.
Ron tore his gaze away from his retreating girlfriend’s back to notice the darkened look on his best friend’s face. “Harry, what’s wrong with you?”
“Ginny and Draco,” Harry mumbled.
“What about ‘em?” Ron asked. Then it dawned on him. “Oh. Finally noticed her, have you?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, you know I’d rather she was with you, mate, but she’s pretty happy with him.”
They walked in silence to the kitchens. Ron transfigured a pot into a trunk and they got the house-elves to bring them loads of sweets and Butterbeer to fill it. Each taking an end, they walked down the hall to the Slytherin dungeon. The stone doorway was open, an indication that the inter-house cooperation was stronger than ever.
Ron and Harry stepped in, and were greeted immediately by Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson.
“It’s about time, you two!” Pansy smiled. “Did you take time to make friends with every house-elf down there?” She took a Butterbeer. “Thanks, though. This is great. They never give the Slytherins this much,” she said as she peered into the trunk.
“You’re welcome,” Harry replied. Pansy cocked her head to the side and smiled at him. This was the first time he’d ever been this close to her and he had to admit, she was rather pretty. Short, dark hair, violet eyes, and when she smiled, her sharp features were softened. Harry mentally shook his head. I don’t think Parkinson is attractive.
“Pansy, love, turn off the charm,” Blaise teased. “The Gryffs are immune, anyway,” he laughed.
She looked at Harry through her lashes. “I dunno, Blaise,” she murmured. “It’s worth a shot.”
Harry blinked at her and stepped away quickly. He scanned the dark room, looking for Ginny. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and he finally found her in a corner, curled in a chair, talking to Daphne Greengrass. “Hey, Ginny. What’s up?” He handed her a bottle of Butterbeer.
Ginny took it. “Thanks, Harry. You know Daphne, right?”
“Sure. Hi.” Harry looked at the girl. She nodded.
Harry sat down on the arm of Ginny’s chair. “You played well today, Ginny. Sorry it was wasted.” He put his hand on her shoulder.
She looked at him strangely. “It’s fine, Harry. Win some, lose some.” He patted her and took his hand away. She was absolutely beautiful. She had changed from her Quidditch robes and was wearing snug jeans and a grey jumper that was too big for her. He was just about to touch her again, when Draco walked up.
“Harry. Glad you could finally make it, we were all dying of thirst,” he drawled as he stuck out his hand. Harry stood and shook it. Draco stepped back and Ginny moved to greet him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “Done with your shower?” she asked him.
“Finally,” he replied. “Someone took forever to finish up.” He smiled at her as he sat down in her spot, pulling her on to his lap.
Harry wanted to vomit.
“Please,” Ginny giggled. “You take longer than any girl.” She kissed his cheek. “And I just love the Head Boy bathroom. It’s fabulous. Well,” she considered thoughtfully, “so is the Head Boy.”
Draco put his arms around her and pulled her closer. “Weasley? Did you take another of my jumpers?”
She snuggled in to his chest. “Mmm hmm.” She stuck her feet out and wiggled her toes. “Socks, too.”
He smiled indulgently at the redhead in his lap. “Who would’ve thought it, eh, Harry? A Weasley wearing the Malfoy crest?” He put his face in her hair, nuzzling her neck.
Harry couldn’t form a coherent answer. He felt... dirty, actually. He didn’t even answer Draco, he just walked away, Ginny and Draco not even noticing him, too involved in each other.
“They’re cute, aren’t they?”
He looked up to find Daphne had joined him.
“Yeah,” he answered noncommittally. “Cute.”
Daphne turned him to face her. “Hey, I was watching you fly today. You were. . . distracted, yeah?”
Harry gazed at her. Please, please don’t let me have been that transparent. “Mm. A bit.”
“Well,” she continued, “you’re a little late on that one,” she jerked her thumb towards Ginny and Draco, “but your ‘distraction’ would be welcome elsewhere.”
Harry’s eyes widened. What was it with the Slytherin girls today? “Oh, uh, Daphne, thanks, but-”
She laughed. “No, no, I’m afraid not, duck.” She nodded across the room. “Millicent’s more my style. Or Blaise, if I’m feeling particularly saucy.” She winked. “I’m talking about Pansy.”
She indicated the girl in question. Pansy was draped over an armchair, most of her long legs showing from under her school skirt. Her tie was loosened and the first several buttons of her oxford were undone. She’d abandoned her robes and was drinking another Butterbeer, laughing at something Zabini was saying. She turned her head and caught him staring at her, and her laugh turned into a sly smile. She gave a small wave, and continued talking with the other boy.
“You should give it a shot, Harry,” Daphne suggested.
“For inter-house cooperation?” Harry asked, clueless.
“No,” Daphne laughed. “’Cause she’s hot, duck. Because she’s hot.”
******************************
Ginny was in her very favourite place in the world, curled up on Draco’s lap. The after party was in full swing. Slytherins always had the best parties. She was listening to the conversation around her; Draco, Tracy and Greg were chatting about nothing.
“All I’m saying is that you could do with a course in table manners, Greg.”
“I’m sorry, Tracy. But it was eat or be eaten at my house,” mumbled Greg, munching a cauldron cake.
“Sounds like Sunday lunch with Gin’s family,” Draco mused.
Ginny gave him a half-hearted smack on the chest, and turned her head to speak with the other boy. “I know how you feel, Greg. There were days when I had to hex one or two of them under the table so I could get a shot at dessert.” She wrinkled her nose. “But that wasn’t worth it, either. It puts you off your spotted dick when there are huge flying bogeys on your brother’s face.”
Greg chucked and muttered something about ‘Draco’ and ‘train’ under his breath. Draco shot him a nasty look.
Tracy looked confused. “Whatever. But seriously, Greg. Close your mouth, okay?”
“Drawing flies, again, Greg?” Blaise Zabini strolled up with his hands in his pockets.
“Sod off, Blaise,” Greg said without malice.
“Unnecessary, with so many lovely ladies in the room.” He winked at Ginny. “Draco,” he asked softly, “a word?”
Draco looked at Blaise for a moment and then back at Ginny. “Forgive me? Keep my place warm, okay?” He placed a kiss on her neck underneath her ear that elicited a purr from the redhead.
Blaise cleared his throat. “Do you mind? You two have a private suite to do that rubbish. Give the rest of us a break, yeah?”
Ginny blushed and got off of Draco’s lap, hugging him. “Don’t be long, okay? I’m about done with the party, anyway,” she hinted, giving him a pointed look.
Draco suddenly had the urge to get as far away from all the other people in the room as possible. “Right,” he said. “Blaise? Let’s make this quick.”
Blaise chuckled. “I wouldn’t have dragged you away from your little play-Gryff if it hadn’t been important.” He noticed Draco’s glare. “Ah, sorry. Girlfriend?”
Draco’s glare turned icy. “What is it?”
Blaise addressed the matter briskly. “Turns out our Harry may have noticed Ginny. Been making sheep eyes at her all night long. His jaw nearly hit the pitch when you kissed her after the game. Just thought you’d want to know.” He turned and began to walk away.
Draco caught him by the elbow. “Blaise,” his voice had a hint of emotion in it that Blaise couldn’t quite place. Was it panic? Surely not.
Blaise gave Draco a smirk. “Oh? So now you want to talk? Fine.” He decided not to prolong his friend’s agony. “I know how taken you are with your little redheaded sprite, so I’ve begun measures. I believe,” he said as he eyed a corner of the room, “that it’s being taken care of.”
“Good,” Draco replied. “Thanks, Blaise.” Then he walked briskly back to Ginny, and gently steered her toward the Head Boy’s suite.
It took Blaise a moment to process the fact that he’d just been thanked. By Draco Malfoy. The Devil must be a little chilly, he thought with a smile.
**********************************************************************
Harry stood in the Slytherin common room bathroom, leaning over the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, messy black hair, fair jaw line, green eyes. Nice enough,he thought. Stupid glasses. Maybe I should get my eyes fixed, he thought randomly.
“Why doesn’t she want me?” he murmured under his breath.
“Because she has him,” a voice answered.
He looked up sharply in the mirror and saw Pansy Parkinson leaning against the bathroom door.
Harry just gawked for a moment. When he finally found his voice, he asked, “Did I go through the wrong door? Isn’t this the men’s?”
Pansy laughed, a soft sound that was a caress. “No, Harry. The Slytherin common bath is just that. Common. Most of us just don’t care, and the ones that do care go up to their dorms. Do you mind that I’m in here? I can leave if you want.”
Harry’s voice caught in his throat. “N-no, it’s your bathroom. You certainly don’t have to leave.”
She smiled at him as she walked over to lean against the sink next to his. “You’re wondering what she doesn’t see in you that she sees in him, right?”
He just stared at her.
She continued. “I don’t really have the answer to that, Harry. Draco’s a bit of a bastard, actually. I love him dearly, of course, but you know how he is. You, on the other hand are so. . . good. . . sweet. . . kind,” she mused. “He’s a bit dangerous.”
“But-,” he started
“You have dark hair. A little untidy, but very nice all the same. Striking eyes. Has anyone ever commented on them?” she asked.
“A few times,” he answered wryly.
“Draco, on the other hand, has those striking aristocratic good looks. Blond. He reminds a bit me of those pictures of Adonis from the Greek lessons in Muggle Studies. Not to mention the eyes. You have to agree, Harry. Draco is attractive.”
“Parkinson?” Harry interrupted. “Did you come in here to make me feel worse?”
“Not at all, Harry. I came in here to chat with you, that’s all.” She took a step closer to him. “I’ll leave whenever you like.”
Harry could not believe what was happening to him. He had come in here to pout about Ginny. Ginny? Remember her? And now was seriously considering snogging the living daylights out of Pansy Parkinson. The gods must have picked up Hogwarts, shook it vigorously, and put it back down this morning. That was an explanation. Yeah. I’ll go with that, he thought.
“Harry?” She was very close to him now. Not touching, but all it would take would be to lean in slightly.
“Yeah?” he replied, his voice cracking.
“Would you escort me back out to the party?” she asked sweetly.
“Oh. Of course,” he replied, holding out his arm. She linked her arm with his, and they entered back into the common room.
************************************************************************
Hermione had finally made it down to the dungeons only to be disappointed that Ron was not waiting for her with baited breath. She finally found him in a corner, playing a close game of chess with Vincent Crabbe.
“Hi, Ron.”
“Hey, Hermione,” he responded distractedly. He put his arm around her waist, never looking up from the board. She looked at the chess pieces, and then up at Crabbe’s face. He had Ron in a very delicate place, and it looked likely that her boyfriend would lose the match. Crabbe just sat silent, arms folded across his massive chest, looking smug. There’s more to that one than meets the eye, she thought. She looked around the room, and noticed something that was sure to make Ron look up from the board. “Hey, there’s Harry.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Ron replied, not even glancing up.
“He looks to be massaging the back of Pansy Parkinson’s throat with his tongue.” Hermione said in distaste.
Both Ron and Crabbe looked up at the same time. “What?”
Crabbe didn’t say anything, but Ron whistled. “Blaise was right.”
“Zabini?” Hermione fluttered. “Have you been talking to him? What did he say?”
“Hermione,” Ron began, “I’ll start by pointing out that you’re a little obsessed with Zabini. I’m going to ignore it because I’m just that secure, okay?” He looked at her sternly. “Quit being a Slytherin groupie. Makes me wish for the days when Voldemort was still alive and we hated all of their guts.”
Hermione blushed and hugged Ron. I really need to quit saying everything I think, she mused. She really did love Ron, but that didn’t mean she was dead, and, although she wasn’t about to stop looking, she supposed she’d have to quit talking about them so much.
“Before I go back to this match,” Ron continued, eyeing Crabbe and the board, “I’m
going to point out that you’re a little sexist when it comes to the Slytherins. You go all sappy and drool like an idiot over Draco and Blaise, but our friend Harry finds a good snog, and you get that look on your face like you’ve been sucking a lemon. It’s something to think about.” And with that, he turned back to the game. She stood there for a few moments before realizing that he’d been serious, he wasn’t going to pay her any attention.
Hermione huffed as she stepped away from the chess players and almost ran into Daphne Greengrass.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “So sorry.”
Daphne smiled at Hermione. “Having a good time?”
Hermione started to answer tersely and then thought back to what Ron had just said. Must be nice to Slythie girls. Hmm. “Actually, not yet, no. I only just got here and my
boyfriend is rather ignoring me after he told me off, so I thought I might leave, really.”
“Oh, no. Don’t do that. The party’s just getting started. Let’s get you something to
drink and see if that doesn’t put you in a better mood.” Daphne gave her shoulder a little side squeeze. “We always have a good time down in the dungeons,” she winked.
Hermione was surprised. Daphne seemed to be really sweet. Hanging out with her wouldn’t be all bad, surely. She walked over to the refreshment table with the girl, and proceeded to have a fascinating conversation, in Hermione’s estimation, about ancient runes and their practical application to everyday magic.
*****************************
The bathroom door had barely closed behind Harry and Pansy when he saw Draco take Ginny by the hand and lead her out of the common room, whispering in her ear. He heard Ginny giggle, and saw her nod her head, and immediately felt sick.
“Hey, you,” Pansy whispered to him.
Harry looked at her, surprised to find her still attached to his arm.
“Don’t think about it,” she said.
Harry swallowed hard. “About what?” he asked.
“That’s my boy,” Pansy murmured. “Now. Why don’t you do something constructive, Harry?”
“L-like what?” he asked as his voice cracked. Stupid voice.
“Potter, you really are sweet. It’s refreshing,” she breathed next to his ear. It sent all kinds of tingling shocks to parts of his body heretofore dormant. The usual places, yes, but even the soles of his feet tingled. He wondered briefly if she had him under some sort of enchantment.
She put her hand on his cheek gently, and turned his face to look at hers. Violet eyes locked with green and he suddenly realized what he should do, Ginny be damned. He leaned into Pansy and brushed her lips with his. He tilted his head back to look at her, to make sure that she was alright, but she pulled his body back toward hers and pressed up against him, one hand going to the back of his neck, and the other wrapping around his waist, and kissed him passionately. Those same tingles from before intensified and he felt like every part of him that was touching her was on fire. Oh, this is what everyone‘s always on about, he thought, before his mind quit working, and instinct took over.
******************************
Ginny grinned as Draco dragged her down the hall to his dorm. It hasn’t been that long, she thought. After he accosted me in the shower earlier, I thought he’d be able to at least last through the party.
They made it through the portrait hole, and Draco dropped into one of the leather armchairs that flanked his fireplace and pulled her down on his lap. He kissed her, a slow, soft, lovely kiss, but very different than how he was usually. She pulled back. “Are you alright, Draco?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. She was the only person that could get away with asking him that. He decided, against his better judgment, to be honest with her. “No, not really. I got some bad news tonight.”
“Oh?” She looked concerned. His heart melted a little that this girl cared so much about him. I can trust her, right? He thought.
“Draco?” She pulled his attention back to her question. “Tell me.”
He sighed. “I found out tonight that some other bloke likes you. And I wanted to leave because he was at the party,” he said, as realized just how pathetic it sounded. Damn. I’m going soft.
“Who cares?” she asked him. “Why would I possibly care what some other guy thinks about me when I’ve got the pleasure of your company, hmmm?”
“Hadn’t thought it through like that,” he replied. “When you put it that way, it was daft to leave.”
“You’re going to be impossible, now, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Probably.” He relaxed. “Do you want to go back to the party?”
She looked thoughtful. “No, not really. It was a little stuffy in there. And I’m rather tired.” She glanced at the four-poster in the corner.
“You’re only hot because you nicked my jumper.”
“I’m done with it,” she smirked. “You can have it back now.”
“I think I will. Thank you. And then we’ll have to get you to bed, Miss Weasley. It won’t do to have you tired, now will it?” He picked her up and dropped her on the bed, divesting her of her top. She leaned back and sighed as he began kissing her neck. Then she cocked her head to the side. “Who was it?”
“What?”
“Who was it? The bloke who was trying to give you a run for the money?”
He sat back, abruptly. “I thought you said you didn’t care.”
“I don’t. I’m yours. I’m just curious of who could make you jealous.”
“Malfoys aren’t jealous.”
She smiled at him indulgently. “Yes, yes, love, I’ll add that to the list. Now tell me, Draco. Who was it?”
“Hrmmpmy.”
She laughed. “Sorry, love, didn’t quite get that.”
“Harry.”
She nodded. “I thought so. He was acting very strangely tonight.”
He looked at her in amazement. “You knew?”
“I, darling Draco, am a woman. We have a sixth sense about these things. I just didn’t care, as I pointed out earlier. I do, after all, have you.” She brought him down to her lips and kissed him thoroughly.
Draco realized again how lucky he was that this beautiful creature tolerated him. He decided that he would spend the rest of the night showing her just how appreciative he was.
**************************
The party wound down in the early hours of the morning. It had been raucous; there was dancing, loud music, and, after one of the Slytherins had opened a stolen bottle of Firewhisky, a drunken game of wizard charades had started. That had ended with a very sloshed Gregory Goyle flapping his arms about like a chicken. Professor Snape had even been in once, one eyebrow raised disdainfully, and warned them “…should his presence be needed again there would be potionary discipline.” Everyone had been a bit more subdued after that. The prefects shooed all of the younger students up to bed and there were knots of people huddled together here and there, talking and laughing softly.
Crabbe trounced Ron in their chess match, and Ron, red-faced and furious, had demanded a rematch. Crabbe just smiled cryptically, shrugged and reset the board. Ron scanned the room for Hermione, finding her still sitting and chatting with Daphne Greengrass, now joined by Millicent Bulstrode. Hermione was talking animatedly, gesturing wildly with her hands, and Millicent and Daphne just looked at each other every so often, sharing smiles, nodding at Hermione and murmuring affirmative comments. Must be going on about house elves, he thought. Poor girls. They didn’t look too terribly bored, though, so he decided not to save them. At least she’s talking to the girls and not drooling over Blaise Zabini. That’s an improvement. His attention turned back to chess when Crabbe cleared his throat. He refocused, determined this time to beat the hulking behemoth into the dungeon floor.
**************************
It was as if Harry had been in a different universe for the last three hours. He was amazed at all of the emotions running through his head. He and Pansy had snogged heavily… she could do things with her tongue that he, quite frankly, hadn’t known existed. For his part, he had participated wholeheartedly, and hadn’t thought once about anyone, or anything, else. They had even talked, albeit briefly, a couple of times when they were catching their breath, and he found her to be sarcastic, but in a witty way, and touch acerbic, but to his surprise, he found that endearing. The most amazing thing about her was that she captivated all of his senses. Somewhere, way back in a tiny part of his mind, he knew that this situation was somewhat strange. It was just that at this particular moment, with Pansy’s lips doing all manner of lovely things to his neck, he found that he could not have cared less.
She pressed a last kiss to his lips and pulled away, looking into his eyes. Harry was entranced. He found he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her violet gaze.
“So, Potter” she whispered. “Fancy having a peek at the Slytherin girl’s dormitories? There are certain advantages to not living in a tower with stairs, you know.”
Ignoring her knowledge of the Gryffindor tower, he nodded and finally found his voice. “P-Parkinson, you’re nothing like what I would’ve expected, you know.”
She giggled as she nibbled on his ear and down his neck. “Mmm-hmmm. I’m sure. But, Harry?”
“Yes?”
“You may need to think about calling me Pansy,” she said as she led him down a corridor. “I’m terribly afraid we’re about to be on a first name basis.”
I can probably do that, he thought, watching her hips sway hypnotically before him.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Ginny, Harry/Pansy, Ron/Hermione
Word count: 5387
Rating: PG-13, R for language
Disclaimer: Not mine at all. Cliches everywhere.
When did it start? If he had to, he’d be hard pressed to pinpoint the defining moment he knew he wanted her. The moment he knew he loved her. She’d always been there. She was funny, quick to put one of her brothers, or him for that matter, in their place. She was a tough little thing, and could certainly handle herself in a fight. She’d proved that at the Ministry with a broken ankle, no less. She was pretty enough; she had ‘the girl next door’ good looks. She looked a lot like her eldest brother, actually, but prettier. She was a mate. She was one of the guys. Like Hermione. She was always there. Always steady. She was a constant that he could count on.
Until early November last year.
Voldemort died. It was remarkably easier than anyone thought it would be. His death came about by an insurrection of his followers, ironically enough. The Death Eaters evidently felt that he was getting too radical even for their evil tastes.
The Slytherin children of the Death Eaters were mostly unaffected by the final battle. Most of them hadn’t been indoctrinated yet. They weren’t evil, they just didn’t care. Apathy wasn’t as bad as evil, in his eyes anyway. Even Malfoy turned out to be not such a bad sort. Once you waded through all the egotism and disdain, and the fact that he was a prick, he was just another bloke. He even began thinking of him as just ‘Draco’, actually. They’d fought side by side in the final battle and saved each other’s necks more than once. You can’t owe a life debt to someone, and have them owe you in return, without becoming, at least begrudgingly, friends.
Later that year, when Gryffindor played Slytherin, they had shaken hands and joked around before the game. But the match itself was brutal. Endless, torrential rain poured on the pitch, soaking everyone to the skin. The Impervious Charm wasn’t even working anymore. He couldn’t see shite before him and he knew Draco was using it to his advantage. It was during that match that he realized that he’d been watchingher more than looking for the Snitch. She flew gracefully and effortlessly, tossing and catching the Quaffle with the other Chasers, executing expert precision. He watched her rolling to avoid a Bludger, her long hair streaming back behind her in a blazing ponytail. He was listening to her mouthing off to one of the Slytherin beaters when he knew.
He fancied Ginny Weasley.
He redoubled his efforts to find the Snitch. As soon as he caught it, and the game was over, he would ask her to go for a walk. Er, no, the rain. Maybe he’d ask her to the kitchens for hot chocolate and tell her how he felt. Pure joy bubbled up in his chest. He knew she liked him; she’d had a crush on him since her first year. Maybe even before then. He grinned widely.
The grin was wiped suddenly off his face when he saw a streak of green and silver go by him. Draco had spotted the Snitch. Damn. He flew after him, gathering speed, and then he heard Madame Hooch’s whistle. Slytherin had won; Draco had caught it. Damn again. And then, as if to prove that the gods had a deranged sense of humour, the rain abruptly let up.
Brilliant, he thought.
He flew down slowly and watched the two teams shake hands and perform drying charms. The Slytherin team was celebrating already.
So what. He had more important things to attend to. Like Ginny.
He had just landed when he saw them. Draco had his arm draped casually across her shoulders. And she, in return, had her arm around his waist.
That’s strange,he thought.
Then the unthinkable happened. Draco leaned down and kissed her.
His stomach flip-flopped. Draco Malfoy kissed Ginny. His Ginny. And from the looks of it, it wasn’t the first time it had happened. They looked comfortable with each other, relaxed, even. Happy.
He stood with his mouth open, watching them. This wasn‘t right. It was not right. Ron and Hermione approached him.
“Hey, Harry. Rotten luck, that, mate,” Ron said, gesturing to the pitch.
Hermione nodded. “I’m sorry I don’t know a stronger charm for your glasses.”
A drawling voice cut in, “I’ve told him that there are Healers that can take care of poor eyesight. Yet he insists on wearing those ridiculous things,” Draco said. There was collective laughter. The blond stuck out his hand.
“Good game, Harry.”
Harry reached out and grudgingly, shook it. “Yeah, congratulations.”
Draco smiled down at Ginny as he said, “We’re having a celebration down in the dungeons. If you Gryffs are brave enough to come down, you’re welcome to.”
He smiled? Since when did Draco Malfoy smile?
Ron looked indignant. “Hmph. We’ll bring the Butterbeer.”
Ginny poked Draco in the side. “Yeah. As if we’d be scared of you, you great prat.”
Draco laughed. Apparently the bastard’s ticklish. “There was a time, Gin, when you were scared of me,” he replied.
Hermione lifted an eyebrow. “Draco, that ship has sailed. You’re not nearly as scary when you’re being tickled by a girl,” she commented, as Ginny began a full assault.
“Okay, okay,” he said breathlessly. “You win, Gin.” When she didn’t stop, he picked Ginny up by the waist and threw over his shoulder. She laughed loudly.
“Come on, Red.” Draco started up toward the castle. “You lot stop by the kitchens first, yeah?” he said, as he looked back at the trio. “Losers bring food, too.”
Harry stared at them. After about twenty paces and gales of giggling from Ginny, Draco put her down and they continued up the grounds hand in hand. Harry himself, however, was rooted to the spot.
Hermione frowned. “Harry? Something wrong?”
Ron clapped him on the back. “You can’t catch it every time, mate.” He chuckled. “Hey, you killed Voldemort, so we’ll let the Quidditch match slide, okay?”
Hermione looked at Harry critically. “That’s not it, Ron.”
Ron gave Hermione a skeptical glance. “Huh?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s noticed, Ron.”
“Noticed what?” Ron asked, as they began walking away from the pitch.
“Ginny and Draco,” Hermione replied.
“Oh,” Ron said quietly.
Harry looked at them with wide eyes. “How long has this been going on?” he asked. “Do neither of you find it. . . odd?”
Hermione sighed. “They’ve been together for some time, Harry. Since before Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It’s a funny story, actually.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Harry said.
“Honestly. You really don’t pay attention, do you?”
Harry scowled at her. He turned to Ron. “You approve of this?”
Ron looked taken aback. “Well, yeah, Harry. You’re the one that convinced us Draco’s not all bad. You even made us start calling him by his bloody first name! In fact, if you can get past the fact that he’s a giant arse, he’s all right.”
“And he’s quite fit,” Hermione giggled. “Ginny’s so lucky, really.”
“Oi. Watch it, Hermione,” Ron said, grinning. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
Harry gaped at them. Has the world gone insane? “What in the bloody hell is going on here?”
Hermione blushed. Ron grinned broadly. “We’ve been together a little longer than Ginny and Draco.”
Hermione reached over and put a finger under the raven-haired boy’s chin to close his mouth. “Harry,” she sighed fondly. “So thick.”
“I am not!”
“Okay, okay. Well, you certainly don‘t pay attention, do you?”
“Well, I’ve had a lot to do recently,” Harry fumed. He took a deep breath and smiled at his two best friends. “It’s about time, though.”
“Hm,” Hermione replied absently. She took Ron’s hand. “I’m going to change. I’ll be down in a moment, okay?”
Ron watched her go while Harry watched Ron closely. The whole world had gone upside down. That was it.
Ron tore his gaze away from his retreating girlfriend’s back to notice the darkened look on his best friend’s face. “Harry, what’s wrong with you?”
“Ginny and Draco,” Harry mumbled.
“What about ‘em?” Ron asked. Then it dawned on him. “Oh. Finally noticed her, have you?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, you know I’d rather she was with you, mate, but she’s pretty happy with him.”
They walked in silence to the kitchens. Ron transfigured a pot into a trunk and they got the house-elves to bring them loads of sweets and Butterbeer to fill it. Each taking an end, they walked down the hall to the Slytherin dungeon. The stone doorway was open, an indication that the inter-house cooperation was stronger than ever.
Ron and Harry stepped in, and were greeted immediately by Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson.
“It’s about time, you two!” Pansy smiled. “Did you take time to make friends with every house-elf down there?” She took a Butterbeer. “Thanks, though. This is great. They never give the Slytherins this much,” she said as she peered into the trunk.
“You’re welcome,” Harry replied. Pansy cocked her head to the side and smiled at him. This was the first time he’d ever been this close to her and he had to admit, she was rather pretty. Short, dark hair, violet eyes, and when she smiled, her sharp features were softened. Harry mentally shook his head. I don’t think Parkinson is attractive.
“Pansy, love, turn off the charm,” Blaise teased. “The Gryffs are immune, anyway,” he laughed.
She looked at Harry through her lashes. “I dunno, Blaise,” she murmured. “It’s worth a shot.”
Harry blinked at her and stepped away quickly. He scanned the dark room, looking for Ginny. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and he finally found her in a corner, curled in a chair, talking to Daphne Greengrass. “Hey, Ginny. What’s up?” He handed her a bottle of Butterbeer.
Ginny took it. “Thanks, Harry. You know Daphne, right?”
“Sure. Hi.” Harry looked at the girl. She nodded.
Harry sat down on the arm of Ginny’s chair. “You played well today, Ginny. Sorry it was wasted.” He put his hand on her shoulder.
She looked at him strangely. “It’s fine, Harry. Win some, lose some.” He patted her and took his hand away. She was absolutely beautiful. She had changed from her Quidditch robes and was wearing snug jeans and a grey jumper that was too big for her. He was just about to touch her again, when Draco walked up.
“Harry. Glad you could finally make it, we were all dying of thirst,” he drawled as he stuck out his hand. Harry stood and shook it. Draco stepped back and Ginny moved to greet him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “Done with your shower?” she asked him.
“Finally,” he replied. “Someone took forever to finish up.” He smiled at her as he sat down in her spot, pulling her on to his lap.
Harry wanted to vomit.
“Please,” Ginny giggled. “You take longer than any girl.” She kissed his cheek. “And I just love the Head Boy bathroom. It’s fabulous. Well,” she considered thoughtfully, “so is the Head Boy.”
Draco put his arms around her and pulled her closer. “Weasley? Did you take another of my jumpers?”
She snuggled in to his chest. “Mmm hmm.” She stuck her feet out and wiggled her toes. “Socks, too.”
He smiled indulgently at the redhead in his lap. “Who would’ve thought it, eh, Harry? A Weasley wearing the Malfoy crest?” He put his face in her hair, nuzzling her neck.
Harry couldn’t form a coherent answer. He felt... dirty, actually. He didn’t even answer Draco, he just walked away, Ginny and Draco not even noticing him, too involved in each other.
“They’re cute, aren’t they?”
He looked up to find Daphne had joined him.
“Yeah,” he answered noncommittally. “Cute.”
Daphne turned him to face her. “Hey, I was watching you fly today. You were. . . distracted, yeah?”
Harry gazed at her. Please, please don’t let me have been that transparent. “Mm. A bit.”
“Well,” she continued, “you’re a little late on that one,” she jerked her thumb towards Ginny and Draco, “but your ‘distraction’ would be welcome elsewhere.”
Harry’s eyes widened. What was it with the Slytherin girls today? “Oh, uh, Daphne, thanks, but-”
She laughed. “No, no, I’m afraid not, duck.” She nodded across the room. “Millicent’s more my style. Or Blaise, if I’m feeling particularly saucy.” She winked. “I’m talking about Pansy.”
She indicated the girl in question. Pansy was draped over an armchair, most of her long legs showing from under her school skirt. Her tie was loosened and the first several buttons of her oxford were undone. She’d abandoned her robes and was drinking another Butterbeer, laughing at something Zabini was saying. She turned her head and caught him staring at her, and her laugh turned into a sly smile. She gave a small wave, and continued talking with the other boy.
“You should give it a shot, Harry,” Daphne suggested.
“For inter-house cooperation?” Harry asked, clueless.
“No,” Daphne laughed. “’Cause she’s hot, duck. Because she’s hot.”
******************************
Ginny was in her very favourite place in the world, curled up on Draco’s lap. The after party was in full swing. Slytherins always had the best parties. She was listening to the conversation around her; Draco, Tracy and Greg were chatting about nothing.
“All I’m saying is that you could do with a course in table manners, Greg.”
“I’m sorry, Tracy. But it was eat or be eaten at my house,” mumbled Greg, munching a cauldron cake.
“Sounds like Sunday lunch with Gin’s family,” Draco mused.
Ginny gave him a half-hearted smack on the chest, and turned her head to speak with the other boy. “I know how you feel, Greg. There were days when I had to hex one or two of them under the table so I could get a shot at dessert.” She wrinkled her nose. “But that wasn’t worth it, either. It puts you off your spotted dick when there are huge flying bogeys on your brother’s face.”
Greg chucked and muttered something about ‘Draco’ and ‘train’ under his breath. Draco shot him a nasty look.
Tracy looked confused. “Whatever. But seriously, Greg. Close your mouth, okay?”
“Drawing flies, again, Greg?” Blaise Zabini strolled up with his hands in his pockets.
“Sod off, Blaise,” Greg said without malice.
“Unnecessary, with so many lovely ladies in the room.” He winked at Ginny. “Draco,” he asked softly, “a word?”
Draco looked at Blaise for a moment and then back at Ginny. “Forgive me? Keep my place warm, okay?” He placed a kiss on her neck underneath her ear that elicited a purr from the redhead.
Blaise cleared his throat. “Do you mind? You two have a private suite to do that rubbish. Give the rest of us a break, yeah?”
Ginny blushed and got off of Draco’s lap, hugging him. “Don’t be long, okay? I’m about done with the party, anyway,” she hinted, giving him a pointed look.
Draco suddenly had the urge to get as far away from all the other people in the room as possible. “Right,” he said. “Blaise? Let’s make this quick.”
Blaise chuckled. “I wouldn’t have dragged you away from your little play-Gryff if it hadn’t been important.” He noticed Draco’s glare. “Ah, sorry. Girlfriend?”
Draco’s glare turned icy. “What is it?”
Blaise addressed the matter briskly. “Turns out our Harry may have noticed Ginny. Been making sheep eyes at her all night long. His jaw nearly hit the pitch when you kissed her after the game. Just thought you’d want to know.” He turned and began to walk away.
Draco caught him by the elbow. “Blaise,” his voice had a hint of emotion in it that Blaise couldn’t quite place. Was it panic? Surely not.
Blaise gave Draco a smirk. “Oh? So now you want to talk? Fine.” He decided not to prolong his friend’s agony. “I know how taken you are with your little redheaded sprite, so I’ve begun measures. I believe,” he said as he eyed a corner of the room, “that it’s being taken care of.”
“Good,” Draco replied. “Thanks, Blaise.” Then he walked briskly back to Ginny, and gently steered her toward the Head Boy’s suite.
It took Blaise a moment to process the fact that he’d just been thanked. By Draco Malfoy. The Devil must be a little chilly, he thought with a smile.
**********************************************************************
Harry stood in the Slytherin common room bathroom, leaning over the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, messy black hair, fair jaw line, green eyes. Nice enough,he thought. Stupid glasses. Maybe I should get my eyes fixed, he thought randomly.
“Why doesn’t she want me?” he murmured under his breath.
“Because she has him,” a voice answered.
He looked up sharply in the mirror and saw Pansy Parkinson leaning against the bathroom door.
Harry just gawked for a moment. When he finally found his voice, he asked, “Did I go through the wrong door? Isn’t this the men’s?”
Pansy laughed, a soft sound that was a caress. “No, Harry. The Slytherin common bath is just that. Common. Most of us just don’t care, and the ones that do care go up to their dorms. Do you mind that I’m in here? I can leave if you want.”
Harry’s voice caught in his throat. “N-no, it’s your bathroom. You certainly don’t have to leave.”
She smiled at him as she walked over to lean against the sink next to his. “You’re wondering what she doesn’t see in you that she sees in him, right?”
He just stared at her.
She continued. “I don’t really have the answer to that, Harry. Draco’s a bit of a bastard, actually. I love him dearly, of course, but you know how he is. You, on the other hand are so. . . good. . . sweet. . . kind,” she mused. “He’s a bit dangerous.”
“But-,” he started
“You have dark hair. A little untidy, but very nice all the same. Striking eyes. Has anyone ever commented on them?” she asked.
“A few times,” he answered wryly.
“Draco, on the other hand, has those striking aristocratic good looks. Blond. He reminds a bit me of those pictures of Adonis from the Greek lessons in Muggle Studies. Not to mention the eyes. You have to agree, Harry. Draco is attractive.”
“Parkinson?” Harry interrupted. “Did you come in here to make me feel worse?”
“Not at all, Harry. I came in here to chat with you, that’s all.” She took a step closer to him. “I’ll leave whenever you like.”
Harry could not believe what was happening to him. He had come in here to pout about Ginny. Ginny? Remember her? And now was seriously considering snogging the living daylights out of Pansy Parkinson. The gods must have picked up Hogwarts, shook it vigorously, and put it back down this morning. That was an explanation. Yeah. I’ll go with that, he thought.
“Harry?” She was very close to him now. Not touching, but all it would take would be to lean in slightly.
“Yeah?” he replied, his voice cracking.
“Would you escort me back out to the party?” she asked sweetly.
“Oh. Of course,” he replied, holding out his arm. She linked her arm with his, and they entered back into the common room.
************************************************************************
Hermione had finally made it down to the dungeons only to be disappointed that Ron was not waiting for her with baited breath. She finally found him in a corner, playing a close game of chess with Vincent Crabbe.
“Hi, Ron.”
“Hey, Hermione,” he responded distractedly. He put his arm around her waist, never looking up from the board. She looked at the chess pieces, and then up at Crabbe’s face. He had Ron in a very delicate place, and it looked likely that her boyfriend would lose the match. Crabbe just sat silent, arms folded across his massive chest, looking smug. There’s more to that one than meets the eye, she thought. She looked around the room, and noticed something that was sure to make Ron look up from the board. “Hey, there’s Harry.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Ron replied, not even glancing up.
“He looks to be massaging the back of Pansy Parkinson’s throat with his tongue.” Hermione said in distaste.
Both Ron and Crabbe looked up at the same time. “What?”
Crabbe didn’t say anything, but Ron whistled. “Blaise was right.”
“Zabini?” Hermione fluttered. “Have you been talking to him? What did he say?”
“Hermione,” Ron began, “I’ll start by pointing out that you’re a little obsessed with Zabini. I’m going to ignore it because I’m just that secure, okay?” He looked at her sternly. “Quit being a Slytherin groupie. Makes me wish for the days when Voldemort was still alive and we hated all of their guts.”
Hermione blushed and hugged Ron. I really need to quit saying everything I think, she mused. She really did love Ron, but that didn’t mean she was dead, and, although she wasn’t about to stop looking, she supposed she’d have to quit talking about them so much.
“Before I go back to this match,” Ron continued, eyeing Crabbe and the board, “I’m
going to point out that you’re a little sexist when it comes to the Slytherins. You go all sappy and drool like an idiot over Draco and Blaise, but our friend Harry finds a good snog, and you get that look on your face like you’ve been sucking a lemon. It’s something to think about.” And with that, he turned back to the game. She stood there for a few moments before realizing that he’d been serious, he wasn’t going to pay her any attention.
Hermione huffed as she stepped away from the chess players and almost ran into Daphne Greengrass.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “So sorry.”
Daphne smiled at Hermione. “Having a good time?”
Hermione started to answer tersely and then thought back to what Ron had just said. Must be nice to Slythie girls. Hmm. “Actually, not yet, no. I only just got here and my
boyfriend is rather ignoring me after he told me off, so I thought I might leave, really.”
“Oh, no. Don’t do that. The party’s just getting started. Let’s get you something to
drink and see if that doesn’t put you in a better mood.” Daphne gave her shoulder a little side squeeze. “We always have a good time down in the dungeons,” she winked.
Hermione was surprised. Daphne seemed to be really sweet. Hanging out with her wouldn’t be all bad, surely. She walked over to the refreshment table with the girl, and proceeded to have a fascinating conversation, in Hermione’s estimation, about ancient runes and their practical application to everyday magic.
*****************************
The bathroom door had barely closed behind Harry and Pansy when he saw Draco take Ginny by the hand and lead her out of the common room, whispering in her ear. He heard Ginny giggle, and saw her nod her head, and immediately felt sick.
“Hey, you,” Pansy whispered to him.
Harry looked at her, surprised to find her still attached to his arm.
“Don’t think about it,” she said.
Harry swallowed hard. “About what?” he asked.
“That’s my boy,” Pansy murmured. “Now. Why don’t you do something constructive, Harry?”
“L-like what?” he asked as his voice cracked. Stupid voice.
“Potter, you really are sweet. It’s refreshing,” she breathed next to his ear. It sent all kinds of tingling shocks to parts of his body heretofore dormant. The usual places, yes, but even the soles of his feet tingled. He wondered briefly if she had him under some sort of enchantment.
She put her hand on his cheek gently, and turned his face to look at hers. Violet eyes locked with green and he suddenly realized what he should do, Ginny be damned. He leaned into Pansy and brushed her lips with his. He tilted his head back to look at her, to make sure that she was alright, but she pulled his body back toward hers and pressed up against him, one hand going to the back of his neck, and the other wrapping around his waist, and kissed him passionately. Those same tingles from before intensified and he felt like every part of him that was touching her was on fire. Oh, this is what everyone‘s always on about, he thought, before his mind quit working, and instinct took over.
******************************
Ginny grinned as Draco dragged her down the hall to his dorm. It hasn’t been that long, she thought. After he accosted me in the shower earlier, I thought he’d be able to at least last through the party.
They made it through the portrait hole, and Draco dropped into one of the leather armchairs that flanked his fireplace and pulled her down on his lap. He kissed her, a slow, soft, lovely kiss, but very different than how he was usually. She pulled back. “Are you alright, Draco?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. She was the only person that could get away with asking him that. He decided, against his better judgment, to be honest with her. “No, not really. I got some bad news tonight.”
“Oh?” She looked concerned. His heart melted a little that this girl cared so much about him. I can trust her, right? He thought.
“Draco?” She pulled his attention back to her question. “Tell me.”
He sighed. “I found out tonight that some other bloke likes you. And I wanted to leave because he was at the party,” he said, as realized just how pathetic it sounded. Damn. I’m going soft.
“Who cares?” she asked him. “Why would I possibly care what some other guy thinks about me when I’ve got the pleasure of your company, hmmm?”
“Hadn’t thought it through like that,” he replied. “When you put it that way, it was daft to leave.”
“You’re going to be impossible, now, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Probably.” He relaxed. “Do you want to go back to the party?”
She looked thoughtful. “No, not really. It was a little stuffy in there. And I’m rather tired.” She glanced at the four-poster in the corner.
“You’re only hot because you nicked my jumper.”
“I’m done with it,” she smirked. “You can have it back now.”
“I think I will. Thank you. And then we’ll have to get you to bed, Miss Weasley. It won’t do to have you tired, now will it?” He picked her up and dropped her on the bed, divesting her of her top. She leaned back and sighed as he began kissing her neck. Then she cocked her head to the side. “Who was it?”
“What?”
“Who was it? The bloke who was trying to give you a run for the money?”
He sat back, abruptly. “I thought you said you didn’t care.”
“I don’t. I’m yours. I’m just curious of who could make you jealous.”
“Malfoys aren’t jealous.”
She smiled at him indulgently. “Yes, yes, love, I’ll add that to the list. Now tell me, Draco. Who was it?”
“Hrmmpmy.”
She laughed. “Sorry, love, didn’t quite get that.”
“Harry.”
She nodded. “I thought so. He was acting very strangely tonight.”
He looked at her in amazement. “You knew?”
“I, darling Draco, am a woman. We have a sixth sense about these things. I just didn’t care, as I pointed out earlier. I do, after all, have you.” She brought him down to her lips and kissed him thoroughly.
Draco realized again how lucky he was that this beautiful creature tolerated him. He decided that he would spend the rest of the night showing her just how appreciative he was.
**************************
The party wound down in the early hours of the morning. It had been raucous; there was dancing, loud music, and, after one of the Slytherins had opened a stolen bottle of Firewhisky, a drunken game of wizard charades had started. That had ended with a very sloshed Gregory Goyle flapping his arms about like a chicken. Professor Snape had even been in once, one eyebrow raised disdainfully, and warned them “…should his presence be needed again there would be potionary discipline.” Everyone had been a bit more subdued after that. The prefects shooed all of the younger students up to bed and there were knots of people huddled together here and there, talking and laughing softly.
Crabbe trounced Ron in their chess match, and Ron, red-faced and furious, had demanded a rematch. Crabbe just smiled cryptically, shrugged and reset the board. Ron scanned the room for Hermione, finding her still sitting and chatting with Daphne Greengrass, now joined by Millicent Bulstrode. Hermione was talking animatedly, gesturing wildly with her hands, and Millicent and Daphne just looked at each other every so often, sharing smiles, nodding at Hermione and murmuring affirmative comments. Must be going on about house elves, he thought. Poor girls. They didn’t look too terribly bored, though, so he decided not to save them. At least she’s talking to the girls and not drooling over Blaise Zabini. That’s an improvement. His attention turned back to chess when Crabbe cleared his throat. He refocused, determined this time to beat the hulking behemoth into the dungeon floor.
**************************
It was as if Harry had been in a different universe for the last three hours. He was amazed at all of the emotions running through his head. He and Pansy had snogged heavily… she could do things with her tongue that he, quite frankly, hadn’t known existed. For his part, he had participated wholeheartedly, and hadn’t thought once about anyone, or anything, else. They had even talked, albeit briefly, a couple of times when they were catching their breath, and he found her to be sarcastic, but in a witty way, and touch acerbic, but to his surprise, he found that endearing. The most amazing thing about her was that she captivated all of his senses. Somewhere, way back in a tiny part of his mind, he knew that this situation was somewhat strange. It was just that at this particular moment, with Pansy’s lips doing all manner of lovely things to his neck, he found that he could not have cared less.
She pressed a last kiss to his lips and pulled away, looking into his eyes. Harry was entranced. He found he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her violet gaze.
“So, Potter” she whispered. “Fancy having a peek at the Slytherin girl’s dormitories? There are certain advantages to not living in a tower with stairs, you know.”
Ignoring her knowledge of the Gryffindor tower, he nodded and finally found his voice. “P-Parkinson, you’re nothing like what I would’ve expected, you know.”
She giggled as she nibbled on his ear and down his neck. “Mmm-hmmm. I’m sure. But, Harry?”
“Yes?”
“You may need to think about calling me Pansy,” she said as she led him down a corridor. “I’m terribly afraid we’re about to be on a first name basis.”
I can probably do that, he thought, watching her hips sway hypnotically before him.