Apart from the fact that food magically appeared on the table, dinner at Hogwarts was like dinner anywhere else in the world. Dinner wasn’t a time meant for just eating. It was a time for conversation, for story-telling, for complaining, for catching up with friends. Most importantly, dinner was prime time for gossip.

Draco Malfoy would have liked to say that he never concerned himself with gossip. As Head Boy, he had far more important things to spend his time on, such as practising his patented Are you stupid? eyebrow raise and deducting points from other houses for daring to exist. Being a Slytherin though, it meant that he could not avoid it altogether – gossip was information and information was power, even if often that information turned out to be only partially true. Still, it was always useful to know what others were saying and what they believed. So while he never partook in gossip himself, and disdained it as being for Great-Aunts who had nothing better to do, Draco Malfoy kept an ear out and was consequently always on the pulse of what was happening in Hogwarts. Once in awhile, he would do or say something to shake things up, but this usually involved being the subject of the gossip and not one of the many who passed it around, distorting things as they went.

His hand stilled when in the midst of the gossip about the Patil twins, Blaise casually said, “Speaking of trysts, have you heard the one about Ginny Weasley?”

Draco forced his hand to continue their trajectory, bring the fork to his mouth. He kept silent as usual. He hoped they couldn’t hear his heart pounding away a mile a minute. Could it be that somehow, despite their precautions, someone had spotted them?

But no, the truth (or at least, the rumour) was much worse than that.

“Apparently she was caught last night by Professor Sprout snogging someone in the greenhouse.”

Draco stopped breathing. They did not meet last night. Ginny had had to patrol. And they never, ever went to the greenhouse.

“Who?” Pansy was all ears, ever the shameless gossip.

Blaise paused for effect.

Draco had to restrain himself from reaching over and throttling his best friend right there and then. “Yeah, who was it, Blaise?” he bit out, hoping he sounded nonchalant. “What poor taste he must have, settling for a Weasley,” he added for good measure, although it sounded weak and lame to his ears.

“Hearing some of the things she was doing, I don’t think he was settling, if you know what I mean,” Blaise said with a grin.

Draco’s stomach dropped. He knew just what Ginny Weasley could do to a bloke.

“Anyway, nobody knows who it was. It was kind of dark I think. All we know is that it was someone with dark hair,” Blaise continued.

Draco started drawing up a mental list of all the sixth and seventh year boys with dark hair, privately resolving to pay each of them a surprise visit. Wait – why did he care, anyway? She meant nothing to him. They were just enemies with benefits, after all. So why did the news feel like a punch in the gut?

Draco shot a glance at the Gryffindor table to see the object of his misery flick something off Colin Creevey’s robes. Was it him, or did her hand linger on his shoulder longer than was strictly necessary?

His attention returned to the Slytherin table when he realised that they were speculating who this dark haired git could be.

“It can’t be anyone in Ravenclaw,” Theodore said thoughtfully. “They’ve all got girlfriends.”

“Well, that never stopped anyone before…” Pansy pointed out, though without really meaning it. Those Gryffindors were just too righteous for this sort of thing.

“What about Neville Longbottom?” suggested Tracey Davis, who had scooted over from down the table to join in the conversation. “He’s always at the greenhouse, and they went to the Yule Ball together.”

“Yes, but I heard she had to spend the next few days icing her feet,” someone else contributed. “I don’t think that’ll be happening again.”

“I bet it was Potter,” Pansy mused out loud. “Remember that Valentine she gave him in our second year? Some awful poem…”

“I’ve got to go,” Draco said suddenly, standing up and shoving his chair back without ceremony. He stalked out of the Great Hall, resisting the urge to glance over at the Gryffindor table again.

He grabbed his broom and went straight to the Quidditch pitch. Flying was the most effective means of de-stressing and clearing his mind. At least, it had been before he and Ginny Weasley had found out at an inter-House Halloween costume party a few months ago that they enjoyed snogging each other very much. Since taking comfort from her was now out of the question, the responsibility fell on his Firebolt.

He flew for an hour, hoping to get his mind off the gossip, but it was to no avail.

It was inexplicable why he felt so perturbed by this gossip, or why he felt the urge to rip someone’s bits off. After all, they were not girlfriend and boyfriend, so to speak. In fact, they were not even friends, and passed each other in the corridors as if they did not spend two nights a week together in the Room of Requirement. They had agreed at the outset that the attraction between them was purely physical, and not letting things go beyond that was a sensible arrangement. As it was, he didn’t think either of their families would be too pleased if they knew what was going on. And yet, his chest tightened strangely when he considered the possibility of this… this thing between them continuing beyond Hogwarts. But it was a moot point anyway as it seemed she’d found someone else.

For a moment, he harboured the hope that the gossip was false. It was merely a rumour, after all, and it was quite possible that it never happened. But gossip always had a starting point, and unless it had been fabricated, it was likely that there was some element of truth to it. Perhaps it could have been a blonde instead, or it could have been Professor McGonagall who had caught them, but there seemed no escaping the conclusion that Ginny Weasley had been caught snogging a guy who was not him. Thinking about it in retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he was about to graduate and then it seemed inevitable that things between them would end. She wanted a guy who was sweet and stable and easygoing, one of those generic nice guys she could bring home to her family without having them all faint on the spot. He was not that guy. Perhaps that was why she had seemed a little quieter than usual lately. He had put it down to stress over the exams, but perhaps the truth was that she was snogging someone else and didn’t know how to tell him that she didn’t want to meet him anymore. Draco’s broom jerked in his hand, and he realised that he had nearly snapped the handle by gripping it too hard.

What was wrong with him? He was acting like a bloody Hufflepuff! He had to think about this rationally. There were four options: one, he could stop seeing her altogether. Two, he could threaten to stop seeing her unless she broke things off with this other guy, whoever it was. Three, he could continue as if nothing had changed. Four, he could pretend that he had also been seeing other people, and perhaps she would get jealous enough to promise of her own volition to stop seeing this other guy.

The last option was tempting, but he didn’t think Ginny was the jealous sort, and it was possible that it would backfire if this pretend girlfriend got it into her head that their pretend relationship was real (something which had happened to Draco before). The first option was an extreme one which he would avoid if possible, although his pride was crying out against it. After all, how could a girl want someone else after having been with him? Option Two on the other hand reeked of desperation and low self-esteem. That left Option Three. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

That night, he went to the Room of Requirement for their bi-weekly meeting, having resolved to show her that he wasn’t affected one bit by the gossip. He didn’t care what she did in her free time. Or who. He didn’t. She could see whoever she bloody well wanted.

But when she showed up at the Room of Requirement at ten past nine, red-faced and slightly out of breath, Draco couldn’t help the jealousy that flared within him. “Been busy?”

“I was helping Luna with some work,” she explained. “How was your day?”

Awful, Draco thought. “Could have been better,” he admitted. “How was yours?”

“All right, I guess. Uneventful, except for lunchtime when Neville upset his cup of pumpkin juice all over my skirt. Thank goodness for cleaning charms.”

Draco regarded her silently, trying to determine whether she didn’t know about the gossip or knew but was deliberately avoiding the subject.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” Ginny said, looking up at him from under her lashes and stepping out of her robe to reveal her a figure-hugging sweater and a short flared skirt.

Draco swallowed. Well, perhaps it was best not to say anything yet. There would be time for that later. “Come here, then,” he said gruffly, drawing her towards him.

Draco relished the feel of her warm, soft body in his arms and the scent of strawberries in her hair. His body, as always, was already on overdrive. But something was different today. He knew he should have been focusing on the present, but his mind was filled with images of Ginny wrapped around some nameless dark-haired twat, purring contentedly, Ginny nibbling on his lower lip like she was doing to Draco now, Ginny’s fingers running up and down his back…

Draco pulled back suddenly. “Wait. Stop.”

Ginny acquiesced, but looked at him quizzically.

As the silence stretched, her confusion turned into concern. “What’s wrong?”

How did one answer such a question? Nothing was wrong, and yet everything felt wrong. Ginny was all but throwing herself at him, and all he could think about was that she had done this with someone else. He’d thought he was okay with things as they were, but he wasn’t. Perhaps the problem was with himself. Perhaps it was just that he wasn’t the sort to share, regardless of the type of relationship. “Where were you last night, anyway?”

“At the library, and then I went to patrol. Why?”

“Did you go to the greenhouse?”

“The greenhouse?” Ginny gave him a strange look. “Why would I? It’s not even part of the patrolling route, as you well know.”

“You’re not answering my question.” Draco knew he was being unduly harsh, but somehow jealousy had reared its ugly head and there seemed no way of reining it back in.

“I didn’t. Look, Draco, what’s going on?”

Draco kept silent, refusing to look at her.

After a few moments, Ginny let out an impatient huff. “If you’re going to be like this, maybe I should just leave,” she snapped, scooping up her robe.

Draco stopped her just as she reached the door. “Gin, wait.”

Ginny paused and turned around expectantly, but did not move towards him.

Draco swallowed. “I can’t…” he began, his mouth dry. “I can’t do this anymore.” Where had that come from? How had he gone from Option Three to Option One so quickly and with so little prior thought? And what in Merlin’s name was he doing?

Ginny stilled. After a moment, she nodded slowly, turning away. “Okay. Fine. I understand.” She made to leave again.

How could she be so calm about this when it felt like his heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces? “Don’t you have anything to say?” he demanded.

“I sort of expected this,” she said simply, not looking at him. “And I understand. Don’t worry about it. We’ve had a nice run. See you around.”

“Gin—”

“I said I’ll see you around, all right?” she said with some agitation, and turned abruptly to leave.

He was on her in a second, catching her shoulders between his hands. As his arms went around her small frame, possibly for the last time ever, he felt his heart clench painfully. “Just make sure he treats you right,” he whispered into her hair, his voice hoarse.

He felt her stiffen in his arms. “Come again?”

“Look, Gin, there’s no need to pretend. I know you’re seeing someone else. And it’s all right,” Draco added, struggling to keep his voice light. But he was lying through his teeth and it was killing him, realising that she had not denied it. He dropped his arms and began pacing around the room. “Actually, no, it’s not. I hate the thought of it. I can’t share you with some other bloke. That’s why we have to stop. I can’t continue like this.”

He slowed in stride and finally turned to look at her, but her face was in shadow. He chose his next words carefully, knowing there was no turning back, but feeling hopeful that just perhaps, there was a chance for them. He would just have to swallow his pride and everything else he had been taught to treasure as a Malfoy. “Look, I know we agreed that this wasn’t going to go beyond the physical and I’ll be the first to admit that I insisted on it. But maybe that’s not what I want anymore, alright?” he said, looking anywhere but at her as he spoke. “If you can break things off with this other bloke then maybe we can try again, properly this time. But if you want to be with this other bloke, then…” Draco swallowed. Then what? Then he would go out and smash some very heavy things, that’s what. And since when had he become so soppy?

He finally looked at Ginny, who was staring at him with a small frown on her face, as if trying to figure out a puzzle.

“You like me?”

“I think that has been established.”

“Not just for snogging?”

“Do you want me to spell it out for you? That wasn’t a declaration of hate. I think I might love you.”

Ginny’s face broke into a smile, and although it was bewildering in the circumstances, Draco felt his heart lift, just a bit.

“How are you so sure I’m seeing someone else, anyway?”

“Everyone’s been talking about it. Professor Sprout caught you snogging some bloke in the greenhouse last night.”

“You mean you acted on gossip? What if I tell you that not a word of it is true?”

“Well, Blaise said…” Draco began doubtfully, feeling as if he wasn’t quite keeping up with the conversation.

“Zabini?!” Ginny began muttering to herself, and Draco could just barely make out the words “kill” and “Luna”. After a moment, she seemed to collect herself. “Screw Zabini. I can take Veriteserum, if you want.”

The spark of hope that had been steadily growing since Ginny had started this line of questioning was now a full blown fire. "Do you mean to say that you aren't seeing someone else?" Draco finally dared to ask.

“I haven’t been with anyone else since the Halloween party,” Ginny promised solemnly. “Since months before, even. Probably since I saw you flying shirtless during Slytherin’s Quidditch practice.”

“Oh.” He was feeling rather foolish now, though also as if he wanted to jump for joy. Wordlessly, he drew her towards him and wrapped her in his arms, feeling the immense weight which had been bearing on him since dinnertime disappear.

After a minute, she pulled back to look at him. “Did you mean what you said, about trying again properly?”

“Yes.” Now that the air had cleared, he felt he had never been so sure of anything in his life. “You’re mine, and I want everyone to know it,” he said.

Ginny grinned. “You’re such a Neanderthal, but do you know, I think I just might love you too.”



~



The next evening, two people met at the greenhouse. One had short dark hair and the other had long light blonde hair.

“That was a brilliant plan, by the way,” the one with dark hair congratulated the other.

“Thank you,” said the one with blonde hair modestly. “I’m so glad it succeeded! Otherwise Gin would have hexed me, I think. She doesn’t do that much to friends, but she likes him a lot.”

“Of course, there would have been an easier way to go about it. But that’s what Draco gets for not confiding in his best friend about her.”

“We had to do it, you know. I couldn’t stand seeing another one of her sad smiles every time I asked her how things were. She was very conscious of the fact that you would all be graduating in a few weeks.”

“Still, it was a gamble. I half expected Draco to just break it off without hearing an explanation.”

“I had faith in him; I knew he really liked her.”

“Well, I think you deserve a reward for being so brilliant.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, of course.”

For a few minutes, there was no talking.

Then-- “I hope Professor Sprout doesn’t come round again tonight.”