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If his father taught him nothing, he taught him that Weasley's were not supposed to be attractive. However, he doubted Lucius had seen Ginny Weasley recently.
Draco watched her throw her head back and laugh at something the Scarred Git said and amended his last thought. There was no way his father had ever seen Ginny Weasley. At least not really seen her – not the way Draco was seeing her now. Of course, that might not be an entirely bad thing. The thought of sharing an attraction with his father was too much to bear.
His point was (and he did have one) was that red hair and freckles were not pretty. Brown eyes were plain, not shiny and full of life. Except… they were. On her at least.
Ginny Weasley wasn't attractive in the way that was generally accepted as attractive. She wasn't rail thin like the girls of Slytherin (except Millicent), nor did she show off her body with tight clothing (like Hannah Abbott), or prance around for the whole world to see (for some reason, Pansy was coming to mind). Ginny was more round, but in a healthy way. Her body was well toned, most likely from running after the Golden Trio.
Not to mention Quidditch. The redhead had gladly handed the Seeker position back to Potter at the beginning of sixth year, opting instead to play as a Chaser. The girl was fierce on a broom. Draco was lost as to why she hadn't played before. She was talented and made good, quick decisions in the air.
Draco knew Quidditch wasn't her only exercise. He'd seen her more than once jogging along the lake at dusk. Occasionally Potter would join her and sometimes the Weasel King, but mostly she went by herself. The Malfoy was certain she trained more than he knew – her body was excellent. Even if he hated to admit it to himself.
"I see your watching your favorite Gryff tonight."
The blond closed his eyes, determined to not let Zabini goad him. "What do you want?"
The black-haired boy shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing. Just trying to see what you see." Blaise tilted his head to the side. "I guess she's hot…if you like red hair and freckles."
"I don't see anything," Draco insisted. "Really, Zabini, what are you talking about?"
"You think no one notices?" The other boy shot his eyes towards Draco. "I see you, Malfoy. In the halls, during meals, at night when you watch her running. And Quidditch – you shouldn't be allowed to play Quidditch. You're bloody horrible against Gryffindor."
"I am not."
"You are," Blaise insisted. Draco was now looking anywhere but Ginny Weasley, so he took a moment to study her. "She's wasted on him, you know. It's not like he'll ever open his eyes and see what's standing right there."
The blond made a sound in the back of his throat, but choose not to comment. "Shouldn't you be off shagging your latest acquisition in a dark corner? Isn't that how you like it, Zabini?"
"I didn't know you paid so much attention, Draco. Jealous?"
"Of you?" Draco scoffed. "In your dreams." No matter how much he knew he should, Draco couldn't take his eyes from Ginny for very long. She was a vision in her dark green robes. Did she have to dress in Slytherin colours?
"Why don't you just go over there?" the dark haired boy suggested. His gaze followed his housemate's once again. "Ask her to dance, take her some punch, do something. Anything is better than you standing here, looking like a sod."
"I'm not going over there," Draco repeated. "Even if I wanted to, I don't look forward to being clobbered."
"If you go, then I'll take care of Weasley and Potter."
The Malfoy heir cocked an eyebrow at the other Slytherin. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
Blaise smirked, his dark eyes immediately going to the center of the room. There, Granger was dancing with Colin Creevey. He could see her wince each time the camera wielding git stepped on her toes. "The weakest link."
"The Mudblood?" Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You'd lower yourself to her?"
The smirk immediately turned to a frown. "Weasley?" he questioned. "You'd take masses of red hair and freckles over Granger?" Blaise once again sought out the Gryffindor girl, immediately thinking she was the picture of perfection in her deep blue dress robes.
"Gin—Weasley is a pureblood." His response sounded like it explained everything. In his mind, it did. Ginny, while not of the best background, would always be pureblooded.
"Granger is the smartest witch in this entire school, Ginny included. While she might be an insufferable know-it-all most of the time, she's still beautiful. Not even you can deny that."
Draco trained his gaze on the older Gryffindor girl, trying to see what Blaise saw. Only, he couldn't. Granger wasn't attractive to him – she never would be. Even if he could get past her lineage (which was unlikely), she wasn't his type. Draco was certain with time he could learn to tolerate Granger, but any friendship would be reluctant. "I suppose," was all he said.
"Back to Weasley. If I distract Boy Wonder and his sidekick, will you go talk to her?"
"What's in this for you?" Draco questioned. "I would think you would want to discourage me from becoming involved with a Gryffindor."
Blaise snorted. "I've been trying that for months, Malfoy. But you seem rather besotted with her and who am I to stand in the way of love?"
"Love?" the blond boy sputtered. "Who said anything about love?"
"No one," Blaise answered. "Yet."
"I don't love her. I don't even know her."
"Yes, and I'm giving you this chance. I only expect you to name your heir after me."
His frustration was growing. Zabini was talking in circles, Ginny was still laughing with the four-eyed git, and he was left to sit on the sidelines. Draco pinched his nose, and then said, "Blaise Malfoy? Not in this lifetime."
"I like it."
"Sounds like a ponce, if you ask me."
"No one did." Blaise straightened his tie and robes before glancing at Draco one last time. "When I ask Granger to dance, I suspect the other two will run to her rescue. Your Weasley will be left by herself. You might not have another chance, mate." With those words, he was gone.
Draco watched, rooted in the one spot as the black-haired Slytherin tapped on Longbottom's shoulder. The Gryffindor blanched, but stepped aside without much fuss. Granger seemed a bit hesitant, but when Blaise stepped forward, his hands held out she accepted him.
The boy Weasley immediately stopped dancing with Loony Lovegood, his face furious. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing Zabini?" he called across the room. This got Potter's attention, who immediately started forward. Ginny followed him.
The Malfoy heir set off to intercept her. He wanted to be nearby, should Weasley start throwing fists at Zabini. Although the overconfident ponce would deserve it. Ginny stayed a step or two behind them, just generally making sure her brother didn't get himself into trouble.
Draco stepped up behind her, his hand wrapping around her elbow. Ginny looked up at him with wide eyes, obviously unsure of his intentions. He tipped his head towards the door.
"I—"
He tugged on her arm again. This time, she followed him. Once the doors to the Great Hall shut behind them, Ginny rounded on him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
The tone she used made his heart squeeze painfully. What had he been thinking? This would never work. The red head was looking at him expectantly. "I wanted to speak with you."
Ginny reached up and pushed her bangs off her forehead. Draco followed the motion with his eyes. "You cut your hair."
"Just the front," she answered. "And it's bloody irritating. How will I ever play Quidditch with hair in my eyes?" Ginny must have realized whom she was speaking to, as she immediately clammed up.
"I'm sure you'll manage." Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what happened next. He couldn't think of anything to say to her and he expected her brother or Potter would be busting in on them at any moment. "Perhaps this wasn't the greatest of ideas."
He turned to walk away, but Ginny stopped him. "Draco."
The blond turned, looking at her suspiciously. "What did you call me?"
Ginny blushed, her face coming close to matching the colour of her hair. "Draco."
"Why?"
"It's your name, isn't it?" she asked. "Really, you act as if no one has ever called you that before."
"I can't recall one instance of a Gryffindor calling me by my first name."
"It's nice," Ginny commented. "Your name, I mean. It means dragon. I know that because my brother Charlie works in Romania with dragons. And your last name, if I remember correctly, means 'bad faith.' It's fairly interesting your parents would name you that."
"Name me what?" he questioned, amused. The Slytherin had never heard her speak so many words together before.
"Draco. Your name means 'dragon of bad faith' or something similar." She blushed again. "Sorry, I ramble sometimes."
"It's fine." Draco studied her, unsure of what to say next. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn't know where to start. "You came to the ball with Potter."
"We came as a group."
"You've been with Potter for most of the night," he answered.
She smiled. "You were watching."
It was his turn to blush. "I might have noticed you standing together once or twice." Draco looked away, and asked, "What is he to you?"
"A boy." Her lips twitched in amusement.
"If you're going to make fun of me, I'll go."
"I'm not making fun," Ginny told him. "Harry is… Harry. I'm not sure what he is."
"It's simple, Weasley. Is Potter your boyfriend? A friendly shag? An old crush?"
The red head shrugged. "None of the above."
Draco frowned. He was relieved about the boyfriend and shagging part, but if he wasn't an old crush… "I should go."
"Draco, wait."
Her words stopped him from leaving again. "Yes?"
"Why'd you call me out here?"
"It's not important."
Ginny took a step towards him. It was the first time she'd moved since they left the ball. "What if I said it was important to me?"
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. She was less than an arm's length from him. "Zabini wanted me to."
"Is that why he asked Hermione to dance?'
"Might have been."
She frowned. "My brother will pound him."
"Zabini can take care of himself." Draco waited a moment, but she didn't reply. "If that's all… I hope you have a good night."
"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"
The blond froze, certain he hadn't heard what he thought he heard. "What?"
Ginny looked down, flustered. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"
"Ginny," Draco said softly. "Look at me." When she didn't, he closed the small distance between them. He put his hand beneath her chin and lifted. "Look at me."
"I… I can't."
"You can," he replied. His hand moved so that it was cupping her cheek. Her brown eyes focused on him, shining with some unknown emotion. "I've been watching you for months and I feel like I've just seen you now."
"Why?" she asked. "Why watch me?"
Draco shrugged. "Seemed like something to do at the time?"
"You prat."
"I thought you were beautiful."
The Weasley tried to look away, uncomfortable with his words. "I'm not… I'm gawky and boyish and not very pretty."
He chuckled. "Is that how you think of yourself?" Draco asked. "Perhaps you should look at yourself through my eyes." Taking another step forward, he continued. "Close your eyes."
"Draco—"
"Close your eyes." When she complied, he ran his thumb down her cheek. "I see dark red hair and freckles. Sometimes…sometimes I find myself wondering if you have them everywhere." Ginny gasped, but Draco didn't stop. "I also see someone on the verge of womanhood, someone who is so amazingly beautiful, but has no clue about it. I think that you don't see yourself as a great beauty is what I admire about you. You're so unlike any of the girls in this school and I find myself drawn to that."
"Draco."
"Zabini asked Granger to dance so I could speak with you. I thought what I felt for you was the sort of attraction all blokes feel towards pretty girls. I'm quickly learning that I was wrong."
"What is it then?" she questioned.
Draco shrugged. "I don't know." He let his hand drop from her face, but she immediately twined their fingers. "I can't get you out of my head. It doesn't even matter that you're a Weasley."
Ginny stiffened. "That didn't come out right," he explained. "I just…"
She smiled at him. "I think I know what you mean. My family will never understand because you're a Malfoy." The red head stopped speaking and studied his face. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" she asked finally.
"Yes." He was going to say more, but the doors to the Great Hall opened. The messy black hair and glasses gave the owner away. "Potter," Draco said.
"Malfoy—" his gaze swung to the other person in the hall. "Gin?"
"I'm fine, Harry."
The boy hero looked down at their joined hands and visibly swallowed. He looked back up at Ginny, who was smiling at him kindly. Malfoy wasn't showing any emotion at all. "I…"
"Close your mouth, Potter. You'll attract flies."
"Him?" Harry asked. "You…of all people Ginny, why'd it have to be him?"
"It's just the way it's supposed to be."
"Gin—"
She interrupted him. "I've already given you an answer, Harry. I haven't changed my mind."
The black-haired boy slumped in defeat. "Are you sure?"
Ginny looked up at Draco, taking in his stoic face. She wondered if he was mentally preparing himself for defeat. "I'm sure."
Harry didn't say anything else, only turned and went back inside. "Should I ask?"
"Earlier tonight, Harry asked me if I would like to go on a date with him sometime. I told him no."
"I thought—" Draco stopped. "Why?"
The red head smiled. "It seems I was a bit taken with a Slytherin. I think it might work out."
Draco leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I think so as well."
"Do you want to go back inside?" He agreed, because he would agree to anything as long as she kept smiling at him. "Would you look at that?"
The Malfoy followed her gaze and couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. In the middle of the dance floor, Blaise Zabini was dancing rather closely with Hermione Granger. Potter and Weasley were both glowering on the sidelines. "I'll be damned."
Ginny pulled him towards the floor and his hands immediately went to her back. Across the room, Draco locked gazes with Blaise, who raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Draco rolled his eyes at his friend, but knew there were no hard feelings involved. Besides, if it hadn't been for Zabini's meddling, Ginny would likely be dancing with Potter and he'd be the one looking on from the side.
When her arms went around his neck, Draco decided he wasn't paying nearly enough attention to the beautiful young woman in his arms. He spent the rest of the evening making up for it.
***
This story was mostly an experiment for me. I've tried on several occasions to write Hogwarts-era D/G, but in my opinion it's never been very good. However, I tend to be overly self-critical. So I've written something. I haven't quite worked out how I feel – which is why I'm posting this now. Tomorrow morning, I'm fairly certain I'll want to delete it.
Ok, finished with the boring author's note. I hope there was at least something redeeming about it.
Draco watched her throw her head back and laugh at something the Scarred Git said and amended his last thought. There was no way his father had ever seen Ginny Weasley. At least not really seen her – not the way Draco was seeing her now. Of course, that might not be an entirely bad thing. The thought of sharing an attraction with his father was too much to bear.
His point was (and he did have one) was that red hair and freckles were not pretty. Brown eyes were plain, not shiny and full of life. Except… they were. On her at least.
Ginny Weasley wasn't attractive in the way that was generally accepted as attractive. She wasn't rail thin like the girls of Slytherin (except Millicent), nor did she show off her body with tight clothing (like Hannah Abbott), or prance around for the whole world to see (for some reason, Pansy was coming to mind). Ginny was more round, but in a healthy way. Her body was well toned, most likely from running after the Golden Trio.
Not to mention Quidditch. The redhead had gladly handed the Seeker position back to Potter at the beginning of sixth year, opting instead to play as a Chaser. The girl was fierce on a broom. Draco was lost as to why she hadn't played before. She was talented and made good, quick decisions in the air.
Draco knew Quidditch wasn't her only exercise. He'd seen her more than once jogging along the lake at dusk. Occasionally Potter would join her and sometimes the Weasel King, but mostly she went by herself. The Malfoy was certain she trained more than he knew – her body was excellent. Even if he hated to admit it to himself.
"I see your watching your favorite Gryff tonight."
The blond closed his eyes, determined to not let Zabini goad him. "What do you want?"
The black-haired boy shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing. Just trying to see what you see." Blaise tilted his head to the side. "I guess she's hot…if you like red hair and freckles."
"I don't see anything," Draco insisted. "Really, Zabini, what are you talking about?"
"You think no one notices?" The other boy shot his eyes towards Draco. "I see you, Malfoy. In the halls, during meals, at night when you watch her running. And Quidditch – you shouldn't be allowed to play Quidditch. You're bloody horrible against Gryffindor."
"I am not."
"You are," Blaise insisted. Draco was now looking anywhere but Ginny Weasley, so he took a moment to study her. "She's wasted on him, you know. It's not like he'll ever open his eyes and see what's standing right there."
The blond made a sound in the back of his throat, but choose not to comment. "Shouldn't you be off shagging your latest acquisition in a dark corner? Isn't that how you like it, Zabini?"
"I didn't know you paid so much attention, Draco. Jealous?"
"Of you?" Draco scoffed. "In your dreams." No matter how much he knew he should, Draco couldn't take his eyes from Ginny for very long. She was a vision in her dark green robes. Did she have to dress in Slytherin colours?
"Why don't you just go over there?" the dark haired boy suggested. His gaze followed his housemate's once again. "Ask her to dance, take her some punch, do something. Anything is better than you standing here, looking like a sod."
"I'm not going over there," Draco repeated. "Even if I wanted to, I don't look forward to being clobbered."
"If you go, then I'll take care of Weasley and Potter."
The Malfoy heir cocked an eyebrow at the other Slytherin. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
Blaise smirked, his dark eyes immediately going to the center of the room. There, Granger was dancing with Colin Creevey. He could see her wince each time the camera wielding git stepped on her toes. "The weakest link."
"The Mudblood?" Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You'd lower yourself to her?"
The smirk immediately turned to a frown. "Weasley?" he questioned. "You'd take masses of red hair and freckles over Granger?" Blaise once again sought out the Gryffindor girl, immediately thinking she was the picture of perfection in her deep blue dress robes.
"Gin—Weasley is a pureblood." His response sounded like it explained everything. In his mind, it did. Ginny, while not of the best background, would always be pureblooded.
"Granger is the smartest witch in this entire school, Ginny included. While she might be an insufferable know-it-all most of the time, she's still beautiful. Not even you can deny that."
Draco trained his gaze on the older Gryffindor girl, trying to see what Blaise saw. Only, he couldn't. Granger wasn't attractive to him – she never would be. Even if he could get past her lineage (which was unlikely), she wasn't his type. Draco was certain with time he could learn to tolerate Granger, but any friendship would be reluctant. "I suppose," was all he said.
"Back to Weasley. If I distract Boy Wonder and his sidekick, will you go talk to her?"
"What's in this for you?" Draco questioned. "I would think you would want to discourage me from becoming involved with a Gryffindor."
Blaise snorted. "I've been trying that for months, Malfoy. But you seem rather besotted with her and who am I to stand in the way of love?"
"Love?" the blond boy sputtered. "Who said anything about love?"
"No one," Blaise answered. "Yet."
"I don't love her. I don't even know her."
"Yes, and I'm giving you this chance. I only expect you to name your heir after me."
His frustration was growing. Zabini was talking in circles, Ginny was still laughing with the four-eyed git, and he was left to sit on the sidelines. Draco pinched his nose, and then said, "Blaise Malfoy? Not in this lifetime."
"I like it."
"Sounds like a ponce, if you ask me."
"No one did." Blaise straightened his tie and robes before glancing at Draco one last time. "When I ask Granger to dance, I suspect the other two will run to her rescue. Your Weasley will be left by herself. You might not have another chance, mate." With those words, he was gone.
Draco watched, rooted in the one spot as the black-haired Slytherin tapped on Longbottom's shoulder. The Gryffindor blanched, but stepped aside without much fuss. Granger seemed a bit hesitant, but when Blaise stepped forward, his hands held out she accepted him.
The boy Weasley immediately stopped dancing with Loony Lovegood, his face furious. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing Zabini?" he called across the room. This got Potter's attention, who immediately started forward. Ginny followed him.
The Malfoy heir set off to intercept her. He wanted to be nearby, should Weasley start throwing fists at Zabini. Although the overconfident ponce would deserve it. Ginny stayed a step or two behind them, just generally making sure her brother didn't get himself into trouble.
Draco stepped up behind her, his hand wrapping around her elbow. Ginny looked up at him with wide eyes, obviously unsure of his intentions. He tipped his head towards the door.
"I—"
He tugged on her arm again. This time, she followed him. Once the doors to the Great Hall shut behind them, Ginny rounded on him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
The tone she used made his heart squeeze painfully. What had he been thinking? This would never work. The red head was looking at him expectantly. "I wanted to speak with you."
Ginny reached up and pushed her bangs off her forehead. Draco followed the motion with his eyes. "You cut your hair."
"Just the front," she answered. "And it's bloody irritating. How will I ever play Quidditch with hair in my eyes?" Ginny must have realized whom she was speaking to, as she immediately clammed up.
"I'm sure you'll manage." Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what happened next. He couldn't think of anything to say to her and he expected her brother or Potter would be busting in on them at any moment. "Perhaps this wasn't the greatest of ideas."
He turned to walk away, but Ginny stopped him. "Draco."
The blond turned, looking at her suspiciously. "What did you call me?"
Ginny blushed, her face coming close to matching the colour of her hair. "Draco."
"Why?"
"It's your name, isn't it?" she asked. "Really, you act as if no one has ever called you that before."
"I can't recall one instance of a Gryffindor calling me by my first name."
"It's nice," Ginny commented. "Your name, I mean. It means dragon. I know that because my brother Charlie works in Romania with dragons. And your last name, if I remember correctly, means 'bad faith.' It's fairly interesting your parents would name you that."
"Name me what?" he questioned, amused. The Slytherin had never heard her speak so many words together before.
"Draco. Your name means 'dragon of bad faith' or something similar." She blushed again. "Sorry, I ramble sometimes."
"It's fine." Draco studied her, unsure of what to say next. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn't know where to start. "You came to the ball with Potter."
"We came as a group."
"You've been with Potter for most of the night," he answered.
She smiled. "You were watching."
It was his turn to blush. "I might have noticed you standing together once or twice." Draco looked away, and asked, "What is he to you?"
"A boy." Her lips twitched in amusement.
"If you're going to make fun of me, I'll go."
"I'm not making fun," Ginny told him. "Harry is… Harry. I'm not sure what he is."
"It's simple, Weasley. Is Potter your boyfriend? A friendly shag? An old crush?"
The red head shrugged. "None of the above."
Draco frowned. He was relieved about the boyfriend and shagging part, but if he wasn't an old crush… "I should go."
"Draco, wait."
Her words stopped him from leaving again. "Yes?"
"Why'd you call me out here?"
"It's not important."
Ginny took a step towards him. It was the first time she'd moved since they left the ball. "What if I said it was important to me?"
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. She was less than an arm's length from him. "Zabini wanted me to."
"Is that why he asked Hermione to dance?'
"Might have been."
She frowned. "My brother will pound him."
"Zabini can take care of himself." Draco waited a moment, but she didn't reply. "If that's all… I hope you have a good night."
"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"
The blond froze, certain he hadn't heard what he thought he heard. "What?"
Ginny looked down, flustered. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"
"Ginny," Draco said softly. "Look at me." When she didn't, he closed the small distance between them. He put his hand beneath her chin and lifted. "Look at me."
"I… I can't."
"You can," he replied. His hand moved so that it was cupping her cheek. Her brown eyes focused on him, shining with some unknown emotion. "I've been watching you for months and I feel like I've just seen you now."
"Why?" she asked. "Why watch me?"
Draco shrugged. "Seemed like something to do at the time?"
"You prat."
"I thought you were beautiful."
The Weasley tried to look away, uncomfortable with his words. "I'm not… I'm gawky and boyish and not very pretty."
He chuckled. "Is that how you think of yourself?" Draco asked. "Perhaps you should look at yourself through my eyes." Taking another step forward, he continued. "Close your eyes."
"Draco—"
"Close your eyes." When she complied, he ran his thumb down her cheek. "I see dark red hair and freckles. Sometimes…sometimes I find myself wondering if you have them everywhere." Ginny gasped, but Draco didn't stop. "I also see someone on the verge of womanhood, someone who is so amazingly beautiful, but has no clue about it. I think that you don't see yourself as a great beauty is what I admire about you. You're so unlike any of the girls in this school and I find myself drawn to that."
"Draco."
"Zabini asked Granger to dance so I could speak with you. I thought what I felt for you was the sort of attraction all blokes feel towards pretty girls. I'm quickly learning that I was wrong."
"What is it then?" she questioned.
Draco shrugged. "I don't know." He let his hand drop from her face, but she immediately twined their fingers. "I can't get you out of my head. It doesn't even matter that you're a Weasley."
Ginny stiffened. "That didn't come out right," he explained. "I just…"
She smiled at him. "I think I know what you mean. My family will never understand because you're a Malfoy." The red head stopped speaking and studied his face. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" she asked finally.
"Yes." He was going to say more, but the doors to the Great Hall opened. The messy black hair and glasses gave the owner away. "Potter," Draco said.
"Malfoy—" his gaze swung to the other person in the hall. "Gin?"
"I'm fine, Harry."
The boy hero looked down at their joined hands and visibly swallowed. He looked back up at Ginny, who was smiling at him kindly. Malfoy wasn't showing any emotion at all. "I…"
"Close your mouth, Potter. You'll attract flies."
"Him?" Harry asked. "You…of all people Ginny, why'd it have to be him?"
"It's just the way it's supposed to be."
"Gin—"
She interrupted him. "I've already given you an answer, Harry. I haven't changed my mind."
The black-haired boy slumped in defeat. "Are you sure?"
Ginny looked up at Draco, taking in his stoic face. She wondered if he was mentally preparing himself for defeat. "I'm sure."
Harry didn't say anything else, only turned and went back inside. "Should I ask?"
"Earlier tonight, Harry asked me if I would like to go on a date with him sometime. I told him no."
"I thought—" Draco stopped. "Why?"
The red head smiled. "It seems I was a bit taken with a Slytherin. I think it might work out."
Draco leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I think so as well."
"Do you want to go back inside?" He agreed, because he would agree to anything as long as she kept smiling at him. "Would you look at that?"
The Malfoy followed her gaze and couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. In the middle of the dance floor, Blaise Zabini was dancing rather closely with Hermione Granger. Potter and Weasley were both glowering on the sidelines. "I'll be damned."
Ginny pulled him towards the floor and his hands immediately went to her back. Across the room, Draco locked gazes with Blaise, who raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Draco rolled his eyes at his friend, but knew there were no hard feelings involved. Besides, if it hadn't been for Zabini's meddling, Ginny would likely be dancing with Potter and he'd be the one looking on from the side.
When her arms went around his neck, Draco decided he wasn't paying nearly enough attention to the beautiful young woman in his arms. He spent the rest of the evening making up for it.
This story was mostly an experiment for me. I've tried on several occasions to write Hogwarts-era D/G, but in my opinion it's never been very good. However, I tend to be overly self-critical. So I've written something. I haven't quite worked out how I feel – which is why I'm posting this now. Tomorrow morning, I'm fairly certain I'll want to delete it.
Ok, finished with the boring author's note. I hope there was at least something redeeming about it.
The End.
smprsgrrl is the author of 10 other stories.
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