The toad was glaring at her. Ginny stared at it warily, wondering when her friend's pet had got so grumpy, though perhaps it was just annoyed it had got caught. Neville had lost Trevor while waiting for his grandma in Flourish and Blotts (actually, he'd managed to knock over a display stand, tripped over his own robe, and then, when he'd finally got back to his feet, Trevor was nowhere to be seen). Since Ginny had been standing not far from him, he'd requested her aid and together they'd set off in search for the wayward amphibian, eventually splitting up when they realised they were getting nowhere. Now, as Ginny met Trevor's scowl—and, yes, it really was scowling—she felt another prickle of uncertainty. Was this really Neville's toad?

"There you are!"

Ginny turned to see Neville racing towards her, also clutching a toad in his hands. "I found him!" he exclaimed, then stopped short when he saw what she was holding. "Whose toad is that?"

"I thought it was Trevor . . ."

Neville stared at the toad, who glared right back. "That's not Trevor."

"Then whose toad is this?" Ginny wailed, horrified at the idea that she had been running all over Diagon Alley to catch a slimy toad that wasn't even Neville's.

"I don't know, but this is definitely Trevor—see, he's got this little spot on his belly," Neville responded, holding up his toad, who croaked happily.

"Well, what should I do with this one?" Ginny demanded, resisting the urge to throw the slimy, glowering thing away. She'd just spent the past twenty minutes trying to catch it; she wasn't about to toss it now.

"Return it to its owner?" Neville suggested.

An old woman in a vulture hat appeared at the end of the street. "Neville Longbottom, where have you been? Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?"

"Oh, shoot! It's Gran," Neville muttered, looking pale. "I better go!"

"Wait!" Ginny cried.

But the round-faced boy had already dashed off, leaving her alone with the toad who was not Trevor.

"I'm going to kill him," Ginny told the toad darkly. "How dare he make me chase after his stupid pet and then leave me here with you!"

The toad gave her a snooty croak, as if saying that it didn't want to be held by her anyway.

"Great," she muttered. "Even the toad is treating me like dirt."

"Croak. Croak. Croak."

"Oh, shut up," Ginny snapped.

The toad fell silent, watching her for a moment, and then it caught sight of her wand sticking out of her pocket. It started croaking again, struggling against her grip as it tried to get to the wand.

"What the—" Ginny began, but then there was a flash of light and suddenly the toad was on the ground, staring balefully at its slimy body.

"Damn!" the toad sighed. "I was sure that would work."

Ginny gasped. "You spoke!"

The toad raised its peculiarly sharp eyes to hers, giving her an expression that said with perfect sarcasm, 'thank you for stating the obvious'.

"But how?" she continued, ignoring the silent barb.

"Because I'm not a bloody toad," the slimy thing snapped. "What do you think?"

"You weren't talking before," Ginny said accusingly. She'd heard enough of his—yes, it was a 'he'—infernal croaking to know that he couldn't speak.

"I tried to cast a spell with your wand to change me back, but all it seems to have done is return my voice. This body obviously doesn't allow me to cast magic properly."

He sighed, then flicked out his tongue instinctively to catch a fly that was buzzing near him. Ginny screwed up her face in distaste.

"Well, you look and act pretty toad-like to me," she observed.

"That's because you're stupid."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Great, a toad with a mouth. I think I liked it better when all you could do was croak."

"Shut up, Weasley, I'm trying to think."

"How do you know my name?"

But the toad wasn't listening.

"Looks like there's nothing for it," he said more to himself, then hopped around to face her, staring up at her through bulbous grey eyes. "You're going to have to kiss me."

"What?"

"It's the only way to turn me back."

"I am not kissing you!"

"I don't see what the big deal is," the toad said haughtily. "You've snogged Potter, and he's much worse than a toad. Kissing him is like kissing a hairy troll's backside."

"And you'd know?" she asked wryly.

He gave a delicate shudder. "Hardly. Now are you going to kiss me or not? I haven't got all day, you know. I need this curse to be broken before it becomes permanent." A dark look crept into his eyes. "And if I see that backstabbing old hag again, I'll . . ."

Ginny frowned, listening to him grumble about all the different ways he'd like to murder the 'backstabbing hag', who supposedly had cursed him.

"Are you really not a toad?" she asked.

"Haven't I just been telling you that? Gods, Weasley, and I thought you couldn't get any stupider."

"Keep talking like that and I won't give you anything, toad-boy."

They glared at each other for a long moment, and then Ginny let out a small sigh.

"Fine," she said. "I suppose it can't hurt to give you one kiss."

"Excellent."

"But no tongue. You keep that creepy thing away from me."

"Just hurry up," the toad snapped.

Ginny leaned down and scooped the toad up into her hands, trying not to pull a face as she brought it closer to her. It was repulsive to look at, and the thought of putting her lips near its slimy mouth made her want to gag. But if it really wasn't a toad . . .

Here goes nothing, she thought, and then kissed it on its toady lips.

The kiss was cold, slimy and . . . disgusting.

Gross! Gross! Gross! Ginny thought, and was about to wrench her lips away when suddenly there was a blinding flash of light, and the lips beneath her own were no longer cold and slimy, but warm and firm, just the way she liked it. She blinked and pulled away, meeting the sharp grey eyes staring back at her—eyes that were no longer bulbous and creepy, but beautiful and undeniably human. Indeed, there was no trace of the grumpy toad in this tall, handsome boy, though his mouth still had a scowlish look about it.

"Oh my gosh!" Ginny exclaimed, realising who she had just kissed. "You're Draco Malfoy!"

"You do love to state the obvious, don't you?" he sneered, brushing down his robes.

Ginny closed her mouth. "Excuse me, but I did just break the spell on you!"

"I know. I'm probably diseased. Next thing I'll be sprouting freckles and red hair."

"Oh!" Ginny cried, and promptly slapped him in the face. "I wish I'd left you as a toad!"

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, rubbing his stinging cheek. "What the heck was that for?"

"You know exactly what that was for!"

They glowered at each other, and then Draco slowly relaxed, releasing the tension in his jaw.

"Fine," he said grudgingly. "I admit that was uncalled for."

"You think?"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't push your luck."

"I'm sorry, toad-boy. Am I supposed to be grateful for that apology? If you even call that an apology."

"Better get used to it, Weasley, because that's the only apology you'll get."

Ginny placed her hands on her hips. "You know, Malfoy, I can see why you got turned into a toad. For once your face finally matched your personality—ugly."

To her surprise, he only smirked.

"You think I'm good looking, Weasley?"

She blushed. "What? No! Why would you—No!"

He laughed. "You do, don't you?"

"No I do not!"

"It's okay, Weasley. You can admit it. Most girls do think I'm handsome."

"Ugh! You're impossible!"

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself.

Ginny held her chin high. "I'm leaving!"

"Sure, whatever. But you'll be back."

Ginny paused in her stomping—the only way to make a grand exit—and glanced back to meet his cocky smirk. "As if, toad-boy. I wouldn't come near you even if—even if—"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Even if what?"

"Even if my life depended on it!"

"I thought it might be something like that," he said, unimpressed.

Ginny went a bit pink. "What's it to you, anyway?" she demanded. "You were the one who said you'd be diseased from kissing me."

He shrugged. "You're a Weasley; I can't help myself."

"Oh!"

He caught her hand before she could slap him again. "I'd really rather you didn't do that."

Ginny glared at him. "Let me go."

A smile danced in his eyes. "No, I don't think I will."

She sucked in a breath as he moved closer, suddenly uncertain. "What are you doing, Malfoy?"

"Thanking you."

"Thanking m—"

Her words were cut off as he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her so thoroughly that Ginny felt her knees go a bit weak and had to clutch at his robes to stay upright. She pulled back with a gasp, her heart racing in her chest and her stomach fluttering with butterflies. Draco smirked, not oblivious to the effect he'd had on her.

"Still wish you'd left me as a toad?" he asked, half-taunting, half-caressing.

"I don't know, toad-boy. Still think I'll make you diseased?"

"You're a Weasley, aren't you?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up," she muttered, and dragged him down by his collar and kissed him.