DISCLAIMER: Oh, if only I owned more than my dumbassed plot.


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"If I'm not in love with you, what is this I'm going through?"
-Faith Hill

CHAPTER THREE
(weasley vs. malfoy)

"You deliberately endangered yourselves by going to the Shrieking Shack! You all know that students are discouraged from going there. That Death Eater could have murdered you!"

It was Sunday, just before dinnertime. The day after the scene at the Shrieking Shack.

Minerva McGonagall, magnificently furious, directed the full force of her glare at the four students in front of her. Crabbe and Goyle cowered. Ginny winced, but managed not to lower her head. And Draco Malfoy - well, one wasn't born into a prominent and prominently arrogant wizarding family for nothing. He met her gaze squarely, his eyes hooded. If he felt any hint of remorse or fear, he hid it well.

That further aggravated Professor McGonagall, and she lashed out at the Slytherin. "I would have expected you of all people to know better, Malfoy! Crabbe and Goyle have already told me that you knew beforehand of the Death Eater's presence in the Shrieking Shack." At this point Draco looked evilly at his minions, and they flushed dully.

"And yet you went there," Professor McGonagall went on. "Knowing full well what a Death Eater is capable of!"

Draco flinched at that not-so-veiled reference to Lucius Malfoy, and the Transfiguration teacher calmed down slightly.

"Thirty points from Slytherin for each of you," she snapped at the boys. Then she turned to Ginny. "As I understand it, you showed up there not on a foolhardy quest to seek out a Death Eater -" and here she narrowed her eyes at Draco - "but simply to fulfill a dare. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Ginny exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

Professor McGonagall snorted. "I wasn't done, Miss Weasley. Furthermore, you all have detention with Mr. Filch every night for the next two weeks. Including weekends," she said.

She saw all four students wince.Good. She hoped that impressed upon them the utter foolishness of what they had done. The Death Eater, who refused vehemently to identify herself, was now in Azkaban, under a heavily guarded cell, classified as 'extremely dangerous.' Hogwarts students wand to wand with an 'extremely dangerous' Death Eater! The professor inhaled, quelling her temper.

"You may go." Professor McGonagall sat down heavily behind her desk, and beckoned the students out of her office. Hunting out Death Eaters! Taking up dares to go to the Shrieking Shack! Merlin, but idiots some students were...

Outside, Ginny gathered her nerve as the three Slytherins started walking down the corridor towards the Great Hall, for dinner. Taking a deep breath, she took off after them, and placed herself right in Draco's path.

He stopped, looking down at her.

Ginny cleared her throat. "I wanted to - er - I wanted to thank you."

Draco's gaze was cool, distant. "For what?"

"For what you did," Ginny said stiffly. "When we were at the Shrieking Shack."

He shrugged. "You're welcome."

And with that, he moved around her and went on his way, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

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"When we asked for proof that you'd been to the Shrieking Shack, we didn't mean that you should bring a Death Eater," Seamus Finnigan joked. Everyone, even Ginny, laughed.

Ron didn't. "It's not funny," he grumbled. He waved the Daily Prophet accusingly at his sister, who knew full well what it said.

An escaped Death Eater is brought to justice. The Death Eater, who refuses to divulge her identity, was discovered in Hogsmeade; specifically, in the Shrieking Shack, which has the distinction of being known as the most haunted place in all of England. The renegade witch was subdued by four Hogwarts students - a testament to the quality of Defense Against the Dark Arts education in Hogwarts, if not to the school's disciplinary committee. After all, Hogwarts students are strongly discouraged from venturing near the Shrieking Shack; in doing so, they violated an indirect command. In fact, a Hogsmeade official said, 'It's a miracle those students are alive. All it would have taken was the Avada Kedavra curse...

Ron scowled. "Mum will kill me! It'll be a miracle if I stay alive after Mum bawls me out for not protecting you!"

"Come on, Ron. It's not like I was hurt," Ginny pointed out reasonably.

She had decided not to tell anyone that Draco was the reason she hadn't been harmed. She knew Draco wouldn't relish the thought of everyone at school gossiping about how he had saved a Weasley. Not that she cared what Draco wanted, but since he had protected her, refraining from embarrassing him was the least she could do.

"You could have been," Harry said seriously.

Ron brightened at that display of concern, and Ginny groaned silently. "But I wasn't, and that's that." She decided to change the subject. "I have detention for the next two weeks. I won't be able to attend Quidditch practice."

Harry took it well, but Ron was upset. "We have a game with Ravenclaw coming up!"

"I can handle it." Ginny paused. "What I can't handle is the fact that I have to spend detention with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle."

Seamus burst out laughing. "Three against one. That really isn't fair, is it?"

Ron began to look upset again. "Seamus, if Dean is busy with Lavender, why don't you go hang out with Neville? Stop causing me headaches."

Seamus chuckled, and Hermione smiled. "Actually, it's one against one. Crabbe and Goyle won't bother you, Ginny, unless Malfoy says so."

"Weasley versus Malfoy." Seamus grinned. "Has a nice ring to it."

"Weasley murders Finnigan," Ron mumbled. "Sounds even better."

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"That's not fair!"

Ginny, outraged, scowled at Draco, who was lounging lazily in an empty bed. Doing absolutely nothing. In contrast, Ginny was grimy and sweaty, having just finished scrubbing out exactlyfive bedpans - yes, she was counting - without the use of magic. And all the while, Crabbe and Goyle did Draco's work for him.

"Fair?" Draco glanced at her. "Not that it's any of your business, Weasley, but Crabbe and Goyle owe me. They ratted me out to McGonagall, remember?" He decided not to mention that Crabbe and Goyle had been horrified at the idea that they had betrayed him, hadn't even thought that that was what they were doing. They had only been saving themselves from McGonagall's wrath by telling her what she wanted to know. They would never have ratted him out if they'd known that was what they were doing, but since they had, they were incredibly repentant, and had readily volunteered to do his detention for him.

"What I remember is that they wouldn't have gone to the Shrieking Shack in the first place if it hadn't been for you. In my opinion, you owe them, Malfoy!"

Draco smiled blandly. "Fortunately your opinion doesn't count for much."

Ginny wanted to grab the pillow from under that swelled blond head and pound him with it. Right then, if she'd been holding her wand and had the ability, she would have cheerfully cast the Cruciatus Curse on him.

Sensing what she wanted to do - and knowing that she wouldn't do it, not with Filch drinking tea with Madame Pomfrey in her nearby office - Draco chuckled. "Don't get so bothered, Weasley. What Crabbe and Goyle do for me doesn't affect you."

Oblivious, Crabbe and Goyle continued to scrub out bedpans a few beds away. Ginny looked at them, then back at Draco. Then, clenching her fists, she marched off towards the next bed, where she bent back to her task. Her motions were rigid with suppressed frustration.

At one point, her motions became so strong that the scrub she was using flew out of her hands, sliding under the bed. Ginny muttered a curse that singed even her own ears. Pushing the bedpan aside, she bent and shoved her arm under the bed, groping around for the scrub.

Draco's eyes widened, and he sat up to enjoy the view. Ginny was on all fours as she searched for the scrub, and unbeknownst to her, her derriere was presented very invitingly. Grinning, Draco watched as she wiggled with her upper body under the bed. It was crude, but he couldn't think of any other way to put it: she had a nice ass.

Then Crabbe and Goyle caught his eye. The two bulky Slytherins had also paused in their work to stare at Ginny's butt in the air. Feeling vaguely annoyed, Draco said, more sharply than he had intended, "Get back to work, will you? You have to finish cleaning your bedpans and mine before Filch comes back."

Ginny's hand closed around the scrub, and she straightened up, looking irritated. "They're doing your work for you, Malfoy. Don't be such a slave driver."

Disappointed now that the show was over, Draco flopped back down on the bed. In a sanctimonious tone, he said, "A slave driver? Crabbe and Goyle are not slaves, Weasley. I can't believe you'd think that."

Sarcasm was an art that every Malfoy had perfected. Unable to come up with a retort, Ginny, bowing to superior forces, decided not to answer. She went back to scrubbing out the bedpan.

Draco, denied a bout of verbal sparring, scowled. Surreptitiously, he observed the youngest - and, in his point of view, the most interesting - of the Weasley children. He couldn't believe no one was coming up to him to chortle about his temporary lapse into insanity - and that was what protecting Ginny against the Death Eater had been. Insanity. The key word was 'temporary.' He wouldn't waste time on a Weasley again. Even a Weasley who had restrained herself from throwing him to the gossips.

Against his will, Draco thought of his father.

Lucius Malfoy despised the Weasleys. Once, it seemed, Molly Weasley had scorned him, and he never forgave her for that insult. His hatred spilled out to Arthur Weasley and the children. In fact, sometimes Draco wondered how Arthur had even managed to get anywhere in the Ministry of Magic, considering all the unfavorable gossip that Lucius filled the Minister's ears with at every opportunity.

But Lucius wasn't obsessive. Many other things in his life were more important to him than his hatred for the Weasleys. Still, he never passed up a chance to attempt to ruin them - Draco remembered, a bit guiltily, how Lucius had once used You-Know-Who's childhood diary to attack Ginny. If he wasn't obsessive, he was focused. Lucius never forgot or forgave anything...

"That's it!"

Ginny, unable to take another moment of watching Draco Malfoy laze around doing nothing, succumbed to the urge to physically harm him.

She threw the scrub at him. She had perfect aim; it hit the center of his forehead. Exactly where Ginny had intended it. The dirty scrub landed in his lap, soiling his robes.

Draco was up like a shot. "What the hell?" He glared at Ginny, who for a brief moment looked more shocked than he was, rubbing the red mark that was growing livid on his forehead. "I swear to Merlin, Weasley. First the bludger, now the bloody scrub.If you hit me on the head one more time..."

Ginny nearly sneered at him. "You'll what?"

She couldn't recall ever being so pissed off in her life. Her irritation with Draco Malfoy began right after the episode at the Shrieking Shack, when she had time to reflect on how annoying his shifty moods were. It had worsened when he so cavalierly dismissed the thank-you which had been a struggle for her to say. And now, faced with his infernal laziness, his egotistical certainty that he deserved Crabbe and Goyle's slavish devotion to him - Ginny's temper had snapped.

Draco picked up the scrub and tossed it back. His own aim was impeccable; the scrub landed precisely in the center of the half-clean bedpan. Which was where he had wanted it. Behind Ginny, Crabbe and Goyle had perked up, sensing a threat to their leader. Draco signalled for them to stay where they were. He could handle Ginny alone.

"Violence seems to be a trend for Weasleys," he commented, deliberately seeking to provoke her temper.

"Arrogance seems to be a trend for Malfoys," she snapped back. "Every single Malfoy I've known is a threat to society."

Against his will, Draco smiled. Then he realized what he was doing, and his smile vanished, replaced by the trademark Malfoy sneer. He cast about for something to say that would hurt Ginny. "Every single Weasley I've known is a bloody do-gooder. Except for one." He saw a flash of pained comprehension in those brown eyes, and doggedly pressed on. "Percy Weasley. How did your parents manage to raise such a snivelling suck-up?"

Ginny paled. It was a low blow. Pressing her lips together, she turned without a word and went back to work.

A silence descended. Ginny finished her bedpan and got started on another. Meanwhile, in the same amount of time, Crabbe and Goyle between them managed to get four bedpans done.

On the bed, Draco found himself simmering. Damn, but he was bothered. No, not because he had hurt Ginny. Hell no. But because..

The longer it took for him to come up with a reason, the more annoyed Draco became. He sat up in bed, and glowered moodily at Ginny, who pointedly ignored him. By now she didn't look hurt, she looked mad. For some reason, that made Draco feel a bit better.

He turned away from Ginny, but kept his eye on her. However, she must have thought he was no longer watching, because suddenly her shoulders drooped and her movements slowed.A myriad of emotions flickered across her face: bitterness, regret, sorrow, wistfulness, love. Most of all love. Despite everything, Ginny still loved Percy. Her strayed brother.

Draco winced. He had to apologize.

"Bloody hell!" he exploded. Ginny glanced at him, and he gave her his most heartless glare. She didn't look at all intimidated. Yep. No force on earth would make him say "I'm sorry" to a Weasley.

Still, the fact remained that he owed her an apology.

So Draco got up and made his way over to Crabbe and Goyle. "Hand me a scrub," he muttered sullenly.

Blankly, they stared at him.

"A scrub!" he snapped.

Goyle looked around for an extra scrub and handed it to Draco.

And Draco Malfoy, heir to one of the greatest fortunes in the English wizarding world (Narcissa had nearly gotten into a duel with Lucius, but in the end she managed to overturn her husband's decision to disown their son after his refusal to become a Death Eater), bent down. He checked to see if Ginny was watching; she was.

This was his apology. He fumed to himself. Ginny Weasley could take it or leave it.

And, holding the scrub like a weapon, Draco started to clean a bedpan.


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A/N: Probably my last update for awhile, but I'll continue this, I swear it.
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