The works cited below are Jo's and the Bard's, and the song Bobby Lewis', not mine.

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Chapter 2 - Let's Get it Started

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Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That's why Gryffindors all sing:

Weasley is our King

I never get tired of that song.

Luna hummed the catchy tune while she walked across the grounds towards the lake. The Dragon Claw Willow was set slightly apart from the others, as if the normal trees were trying to edge away from the larger one, whose leaves ended in a tip that resembled a dragon claw.

Her father had run a story in the Quibbler once about a Squib whose pets began disappearing once she put them in the back garden with the dangerous-looking tree. The girl was still undecided about how reliable the source had actually been. After all, the woman admitted to forgetting to close her back gate.

Shrugging off tiresome doubts about Daddy's journalistic integrity, Luna sang her favourite chorus again. She cautiously brushed the drooping stalks aside to reach the Slytherin already leaning against the trunk. Blaise was sitting with her legs stretched out, looking through the leafy screen at the lake beyond.

Turning her head upon hearing a cheerful voice, the girl contradicted, "You're singing it wrong...here's how it's supposed to go." Taking a breath, she sang mockingly,

"Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing,

Weasley is our King!"

Mildly surprised to hear a rich, throaty voice when she'd half-expected a soprano, Luna observed serenely, "I bet whoever wrote that song really regrets it now." Tucking her legs to the side, she gazed expectantly at her new friend.

"It was Malfoy, but he allowed another boy to take the credit. The poor bloke was popular around the common room for awhile, but transferred to Beauxbatons after Weasel got his act together." Blaise grimaced. "Couldn't take the hexes anymore."

"Oh my." Luna leaned forward. "You mean that boy who kept getting the purple pustules...?"

"Oh yeah, we really live our Sorting Hat song." The other girl's tone dripped sarcasm. "Perhaps in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends--only the hat doesn't tell you that with friends like these..." Blaise looked away, shrugging. Glancing back, she gave a small smile and admitted, "Ah, Draco can't help acting the prat sometimes, not after being treated like the prince of the world his whole life."

Luna found this very interesting. "You sound like his friend. I mean, as opposed to a person Malfoy lets hang round in case he wants something."

"If by friend you mean I hang round Draco because he's smart and funny even though he can be a git, although I'm not a flunky like Crabbe or a love slave like Pansy, yes, we're friends."

"What a Slytherin-like way of putting it," Luna approved. "Perhaps the rest of the Sorting song is correct too." She recited softly, " Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends." Tapping her chin, the girl mused, "I don't know why people view that so negatively. We'll need those qualities if we're going to get our Beatrice and Benedick together."

"Like we'll need a 'ready mind', of 'wit and learning'," Blaise said thoughtfully. "Two Houses working together to end a ' merry war betwixt' Sir Draco and the Lady Ginny. Sounds like a noble cause to me."

"Is it ever truly noble to use deception on others?"

"Did you read one act of Much Ado About Nothing? The whole play is based on people using deception to gain their desires. We're not the bastard brother hoping to see the lovers fall into social disgrace; we're the prince helping two people who just need a little push to get together."

"Helping...don't you mean duping?" She held up her hands. "Don't get all Slytherin; I'm not saying I'm not for it." Luna explained, "I can't help debating ideas, that's why I'm a Ravenclaw. I could talk about the theme of deception as a neutral means to a benign or malignant end and give you specific examples from every act if you'd like."

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I guess that means she read the play.

Loony Lovegood was a lot sharper than she first seemed. If it was a deliberate act, she had been sorted into the wrong house. Blaise raised her hands to mirror Luna's. "Spare me. Although, since you're so keen on the ethics of deception and all, why don't you write our essay on it?"

"I thought you were going to toss off three feet of parchment before the next class?"

"I would if you were the dotty girl I first thought you were, living in some dreamland. For all I knew you'd have drawn rainbows on the parchment instead of writing the essay."

The look in the pale eyes turned toward her was hard to read. Was the misty-eyed girl surprised at Blaise's original impression of her, or was that a permanent look because the orbs staring at her were a bit protuberant?

"Are you saying you don't think I'm loony anymore?"

The dry comment was worthy of a Slytherin. Snickering, she replied, "Crazy like a fox." Nodding her head in approval, Blaise added, "Ginny will never suspect a thing."

Luna's dreamy smile was extremely effective camouflage for a Machiavellian mind. "Neither will Draco if you keep him off balance. Good job in the Great Hall by the way. You know," the girl said after a contemplative pause, "if you'd let me pierce your ears and give you some earrings and red lipstick, you could be quite a distraction."

"I'll take you up on the piercing, but don't worry about the jewellery and makeup. I've got loads." She laughed shortly. "I've avoided getting girly to hack Mum off, not because I'm clueless." She made a face. "And now her dream will finally come true--bloody hell!" Blaise rubbed her ears, glaring. "What was that?"

"A Piercing Charm. Stop whining, Muggles shoot needles through their earlobes," Luna said, lowering her wand.

Blaise knew she was attempting not to laugh. "How barbaric. All right, then, maybe I'll give you my Crumple-Horned Snorkack pendant as a token of my appreciation."

"Really?"

Rolling her eyes at one of the few people on the planet who actually believed in Snorkacks, Blaise sighed. "Yes, as soon as somebody gives me one. Now let's talk about what we're going to do next."

After discussing a few details, Luna noticed, "There's a part of the second act in the play that really fits our situation."

Realising that she'd never get to go search her trunk for the jewellery box if the brainy blonde wasn't humoured, Blaise imperiously waved a hand to indicate the daft girl should recite away.

Luna quoted, "I will...humour (Ginny) that she shall fall in love with (Draco); and (you)...will so practice on (Draco) that, in despite of his quick wit and his queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with (Ginny). If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer: his glory shall be ours."

Reluctantly impressed, the normally impassive girl did something out of character- she applauded the efforts of a non-Slytherin.

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Descending the staircase beside Colin, Ginny yawned so widely she actually sprayed saliva on a girl three stairs further down. Keeping a straight face while her victim rubbed the back of her neck and looked around for the culprit was extremely difficult. It didn't help that her friend was looking at her as if she'd grown a second head.

Quickly feeling her neck, Ginny was relieved to discover that she still had only the one. The way last night had gone, anything was possible. Her mum had always told her 'never go to bed angry'. Well, Mum had a saying for everyday of the week...who knew which one would actually be true?

"Is everything alright, Ginny?"

"I didn't sleep well last night, Colin, and I don't feel like talking about it...so don't ask."

Creevey closed his lips. She patted his arm consolingly. Poor boy loved to talk... Covering her mouth to cover yet another jaw cracking yawn, the girl debated whether to go to the infirmary and get a Wake-Up Potion, or to fake illness and just sleep the day away on an infirmary bed.

Catching Colin flinching away from the threat of another juicy yawn, Ginny decided she better get a Wake-Up. Nodding her thanks for her friend's promise to save her a seat; she stumbled down the last steps to the main corridor and turned to make her way to see the mediwitch.

Aaaggghhhhh! Ginny closed her eyes in a silent scream. Why did Dad have to bring home that enchanted Muggle ray-cord play-her thingy? I keep hearing the song 'Tossin' and Turnin' All Night'!

Oldies Muggle music, as Harry called it, was incredibly catchy and had the nasty habit of popping into one's mind at the least wanted moment. It was even worse when the song actually matched your thoughts. Then it repeated itself over and over until a formerly rational person was driven round the twist.

That's me...formerly rational.

Tossing and turning all night--Merlin, make that song go away--was exactly what Ginny had done. She'd been so infuriated by the actions of Zabini and Malfoy that she'd left the Great Hall the minute she'd finished mutilating the food on her plate. Harry and the others had laughed at her disgust, thought Blaise was all right and she was overreacting.

Overreacting! Her! Ha! She'd like to see them not get upset when the Slytherin snake looked at her--no--them whilst making his move on another girl and getting that girl to take off her robes. Waiting for her-them to explode so he could laugh his arse off...which she had, and he did, and that was why she couldn't sleep last night.

Those dreams, those awful, awful dreams!

All bloody night, Ginny was plagued by nightmares. Whenever she would slip into a deep sleep, her traitorous brain would send horrific images causing her to bolt upright, gasping for breath until she could calm down and begin the whole process over again.

Draco was running a finger down Blaise's cheek while smirking at Ginny...Blaise was standing with her robes open, letting Malfoy run his hands over her body while she taunted Ginny...'If you don't want him, lots of other girls do'...Ginny was pushing Zabini aside and grabbing Malfoy's hair with both hands to...

"No!"

A first year boy squeaked in fright and ran away from the mental case who was yelling at herself.

Great, just great, first I'm having those nightmares during the day and now I'm scaring ickle firsties...

Practically running now, Ginny turned the corner at the infirmary and barrelled into another student. Without looking up, she tiredly mumbled 'sorry' and tried to move on. Strong fingers gripped her shoulders and a familiar silky voice drawled, "What's the hurry, Red?"

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Weaselette really is beautiful when she's angry. Too bad I don't like her or anyone else in her family...

Reluctantly admiring the sparks flaring in Ginny's brown eyes and the flush spreading across creamy skin dusted with freckles, Draco waited for the sputtering girl to reply, lips curved in a provoking half-smile.

Speechless, eh...I like you more already...not that I don't have that effect on most girls in this school...just the price I pay for being so...me.

His mocking smile set the girl off. "Oh...you...just because I fell for your stupid prank first year doesn't mean I'm going to do it again so...so...don't even try!"

Brows raised in surprise at the depth of her anger, Draco scowled. "What are you talking about, Weaselette?" He knew, but he wasn't about to admit it. The boy wasn't keen on the thought of skipping down memory lane, but if she insisted...

"You know what I'm talking about, Ferret...or have you pulled your little stunt on so many first years you can't remember?"

"Funny, Weaselette, you know I haven't."

Her face was turning pink. "I know you pulled it on Harry. He told me."

"Watch your mouth. You know damn well I told Potter to meet me in the Trophy Room for a Wizard's duel."

"And we both know that's not what you told me," Ginny cut in hotly.

Draco sneered. "Well, you were a silly girl."

"You told me I was pretty...that you liked me...wanted to get to know me..." Her eyes were blazing now, and he stepped away from the scorching heat. "I waited for ages before Filch came! You set me up, and that was cruel, and I'll never forget it!"

Malfoy stared back defiantly. "I'll never forget it either, and the truth is cruel, so get over it!" Gaining control of himself, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Insolently raising a white-blond brow, he drawled, "Never got over me, did you, Red? That's why you're so angry, isn't it? Been carrying a torch for me all these years..."

"In your dreams, Malfoy. Parkinson and Zabini may think you're a god, but everyone else in this school thinks you're just a boring prat."

"Did you get that Wake-Up stuff, Draco?" Crabbe ambled up to loom behind Ginny, oblivious to the conversation he had interrupted.

"You telling her about the dreams keeping you up all night?" Goyle questioned, added his hulking presence beside his cohort.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes, the advantages of his minions' brute strength, slavish loyalty and obedience were really not worth the sheer stupidity he was forced to endure day after bloody day. He looked over at Ginny. She was sneering. Apparently, her brief association with Tom Riddle had left her with Slytherin tendencies.

"What's all this noise out here?" Madam Pomfrey had opened the door to the infirmary. She looked extremely cross. The mediwitch dismissed Malfoy with a brusque, "You've had your potion, go on with you now."

The starchy woman turned her attention to Ginny. "Are you another one needing Wake-Up Potion because you couldn't sleep last night?"

The girl's face rivalled her hair. Her eyes widened in dismay. Draco felt a grin welling up inside and for a change did nothing to stop it from spreading across his face. Ginny's eyes grew even wider at the sight. With a whimper, she dashed into the infirmary. Smiling in arrogant male satisfaction, Malfoy jerked his head at Crabbe and Goyle, who silently fell in behind him as he sauntered toward the Great Hall.