Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for Shardrive by request of Potatomaker. Thank you to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills!
BREAKING THE RULES
RULE NUMBER ONE
Draco cursed as he rushed down the path to the Quidditch pitch. He had been certain that training was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, but Pansy had informed him the team was on the pitch waiting for their intrepid leader. Of course, she followed this statement with a cackle that would put the hags in Knockturn Alley to shame.
Without thinking of who might be occupying the change rooms, Draco burst through the door. A piercing scream almost deafened him the second he crossed the threshold. The world seemed to slow down at that precise moment. His brain was furiously yelling at him to turn around and leave. However, his seventeen-year-old hormones seemed to have placed a permanent sticking charm on his feet.
A girl was screaming at him to get out, but his ears were ignoring her demands. The view was far too captivating to move away. A towel, held in place by her hand, covered her tall, slim body. It occurred to him, somewhere in the back of his mind that the towel hadn't been there when he first walked into the change room.
He watched as she bent over to retrieve her wand from the bench. Her long legs did indeed go all the way up. The creamy flesh was beckoning to him, begging him to reach out and stroke it. His eyes almost left his head when the towel slipped from her hand. It was every seventeen-year-old wizard’s fantasy — alone in the Quidditch change rooms with a naked witch.
Pain sliced through his body as he was flung into the wall. His befuddled mind distantly registered that the pain was caused by the stinging hex the girl had just hurled at him. He didn't much care; the view was still splendid.
"GET OUT, MALFOY!"
The shriek just about burst his eardrums and effectively got his feet moving towards the door. Back in the bright sunshine, his senses began to return to him. He was stinging all over from the hex and his head hurt where it made contact with the wall.
Even as he rubbed his aching head, he smirked arrogantly. The girl in the change rooms was in superb shape. There weren't many witches at Hogwarts he regarded as worth chasing, but this witch was different — she had his attention. At that moment, it occurred to him that he had no idea who she was. If asked, he could have given a faultless description of her legs, or the swell of her breasts, but with his eyes busy elsewhere her face hadn't registered.
Determined to discover her identity, Draco leaned up against the outside wall of the change rooms. She had to come out at some point and then he would make his move. A hundred pickup lines ran through his head. It was difficult to decide on the best approach, after all he'd already seen her naked, even if it was by accident.
After what seemed an age to the teenage wizard, there was some movement at the door. He was about to push off from the wall and pursue his quarry, but he stopped suddenly when he saw who walked from the change rooms.
Ginny Weasley was hurrying along the path back to the castle.
Draco shook his head. There had to be some mistake. That particular girl couldn't be the same one he'd ogled so imprudently. His witch must still be in the change rooms. He resumed his position against the wall. Time seemed to slow down, or so he thought as he waited.
After what seemed an eon to Draco, Pansy came traipsing down the path. She looked smug; an expression that always worried him.
"Why aren't you training, Draco? I came to watch you."
"I'm waiting to get into the change room," Draco replied impatiently.
"There are two rooms, use the other."
"My gear is in that one." His irritation with the girl was growing and he flung his hand in the direction of the room the screaming girl was occupying.
"Who's in there?"
"Some girl."
Pansy rolled her eyes at him. "Shall I give her a hurry up for you?"
"Yeah, that would be good." Draco appeared disinterested, but he was privately elated Pansy had made the offer. Little did she realize just how much he wanted the girl to come outside.
Minutes later Pansy reappeared in the doorway. "There's no one in here."
"What? There has to be! I saw her."
"Maybe you're seeing things?"
"I'm not seeing things, she was in there. She screamed at me and I didn't imagine that."
"Whatever," Pansy responded flippantly. "The room is empty now, so you can get changed. I'll wait for you at the pitch."
Draco resisted the urge to snarl at his friend as she passed him. They'd known each other practically all their lives, and because of that Pansy rarely showed him the respect he though he was due, particularly as she got older. She'd gone from a simpering girl to an arrogant young woman some time when he wasn't paying attention. He thought he preferred the simpering girl, she was far less likely to challenge him and easier to manipulate. Put simply, it made his life easier if he could get her to do what he wanted without a struggle.
As he changed, his mind drifted back to the screaming girl. It couldn't have been the Weaslette, surely. It didn't bear thinking about. There was no way she could look like that under her faded, too small uniform. When he grabbed his broomstick he pushed all thoughts of the girl from his head. He couldn't dwell on it at the moment, not with Quidditch practice.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ginny stormed back to the castle. She couldn't believe her luck. All she'd wanted was an hour or so on the pitch to clear her head, but no, the Slytherin team had to come and kick her off. Then their ferrety captain invaded her privacy while she was getting dressed. It was unbelievable. The way he wouldn't leave until she hexed him. Her blood boiled. When she caught up with Malfoy, he was a dead man or boy or whatever he was now.
Her mind continued to invent new ways to torture him until he begged for mercy or died, whatever came last. First his eyes, she didn't like the glazed way they were examining her body. Then his mouth, the way it went all slack when her towel slipped was simply disgusting. Next his legs would be in her firing line, mostly because they failed to move when she first screamed at him. She was half way across the Entrance Hall when her brother called out to her. So caught up in her evil plotting, she'd failed to notice him and Harry coming down the staircase.
"Ginny, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she lied automatically. If she so much as hinted at what Malfoy had done or not done she wouldn't have a chance to seek retribution herself.
Ron looked at his sister skeptically. He didn't believe her. "Sure, now how about you tell me the truth?"
"I said nothing was wrong," Ginny ground out angrily.
"Fine, don't say I never show concern then." He turned to Harry. "I tried, didn't I?"
"Just go away, Ron." Ginny stormed up the staircase. All she wanted was a little privacy to continue plotting her revenge on Malfoy.
"Yeah, you tried," Harry agreed. "But don't push your luck; remember what happened last time you kept on at her?"
Ron's face screwed up in revulsion and he muttered, "She told me what was bothering her."
"What if it's the same problem again?"
"I don't want to know!" Ron mounted the stairs to the Great Hall. Food was good at a time like this. It kept him from opening his mouth and asking questions he didn't really want answers to.
Harry chuckled heartily as he followed Ron. He'd been trying to erase the memory of the last time Ron had pushed Ginny to tell him what was bothering her for a couple of weeks now. Put simply, he really didn't need or want to know that she was feeling horrid, because she had cramps. Of course, Ron wouldn't leave it there, he had to know what was causing the pain and when Ginny spelled it out to him, both boys just about expired from embarrassment. There were some things she should keep to herself.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Great Hall was full of noise, as it usually was during mealtimes. Draco tried valiantly to keep his attention focused on his plate, but his mind and eyes kept wandering to the redheaded witch at the Gryffindor table. He was still firmly telling himself it couldn't have been her in the Quidditch change room, but something at the back of his mind, or was it his groin, kept nagging him.
She was laughing at something one of her silly little friends was saying. The creamy flesh of her neck was exposed when she tossed her head back to laugh; in what he thought was an unladylike gesture. He could envision himself gnawing on her flesh, turning the pale skin red. How had he not noticed her before? That was a lie. He had noticed her. In fact, he usually ended up on the wrong end of her wand. A snarl built up in his throat as she reached out and touched Potter's arm. What was she touching him for?
"You can't stop thinking about her, can you?" Pansy purred into his ear.
Draco swung around. Minutes ago he'd been sitting between Crabbe and Goyle. "How did you get there?"
"I squeezed in," Pansy admitted. "I've been watching you."
"So."
"Watching you watching her."
"What makes you think I'm watching anyone?"
"It was her you saw this afternoon in change rooms, wasn't it?"
"No," Draco denied.
"Come on, Malfoy, you can't lie to me. I know you too well." Pansy smirked confidently. "Besides, I heard her muttering to herself on the way back to the castle."
His interest was piqued and Draco quirked an eyebrow at his friend, imploring her to go on without openly admitting his curiosity.
"But you're not interested in any of that," Pansy said, dismissing his obvious interest.
"Parkinson," Draco growled.
"So, you are interested," Pansy responded smugly.
Draco growled at her and she rolled her eyes at him.
"I didn't hear everything she was saying, just fragments—"
"Just get on with it!"
"She made mention of you, butt-naked, leave and die."
"That's it?"
"Yes, that's all I heard." Pansy picked a piece of invisible lint from his shoulder. "Mind you there's a message in those few words if you care to look closely enough."
"Pray tell how do you get a message out of four unrelated words?"
"It's not hard, Draco. You walked in while she was getting changed, didn't you?"
A grunted of acknowledgement came from the blond wizard.
"And you didn't leave when she told you to, did you?" Pansy waited for a response, but received none. A sure sign Draco was guilty as charged. "So, she storms back up the castle muttering to herself using the word die— a lot."
"Your point?"
"Your life is in danger. She's going to kill you for not leaving straight away."
"Says you."
Pansy shook her head. "Says her."
"Ridiculous," Draco spat. He should have known better than to have this type of conversation with Pansy.
"If you think so," Pansy replied casually as she gracefully stepped over the bench seat. "Oh, there was one other thing she mentioned— Apparently, she detested the way your chin just about hit the floor when her towel dropped. Drooling like a heathen, were we?"
Although his upbringing had taught him well to hide his emotions, Draco had to fight hard to keep his face from flushing bright red. As ridiculous as it seemed, he felt like he'd been caught red handed peeking in the girls' lavatory right at that moment.
Pansy leaned over and whispered into his ear, "The tips of your ears are red, Malfoy."
Draco snarled and pushed her away from him. Escape from Pansy and the now curious stares the pair of them were receiving was the only thing on his mind. It was bad enough his own mind wouldn't let go of the memory, but to have Pansy know the girl got to him was potentially ruinous. If he could let go of the memory, as fine as it was, he might be able to salvage some dignity.
He strutted out of the Great Hall completely oblivious to the fact that he was actually following the girl who'd not left his thoughts since earlier that afternoon. It wasn't until he reached the doorway to the dungeons that he realized she was climbing the Grand Staircase. A smirk tugged at his lips.
For reasons he didn't wish to examine too closely, Draco followed her at a distance. She didn't know he was behind her, as far as he could ascertain, and from the route she was taking, he thought she might be heading to the library. Not that it mattered because he had no intention of stopping until he was ready or she discovered him.
The longer he followed her, the clearer it became that she wasn't like other girls, the girls who vied for his attention. Perhaps it was the way she didn't roll her hips in some exaggerated parody like the other girls? Hers was more of a subtle sway, barely even there to the casual observer. It was mesmerizing. No longer watching where he was actually walking Draco failed to notice that his quarry had stopped in her tracks and was bending over retrieving something from the floor. He walked straight into her rear end. Sheer reflex made him reach out and grab the witch by the hips to stop her pitching forward onto her head.
It wasn't until she started swatting at his hands did he realize he hadn't released his grip on her. She felt good—right, in his hands.
"Let me go," Ginny ground out angrily.
"What if I don't want to," Draco whispered before he could stop himself. What had come over him? This was a Weasley. Given she was beautiful, but still not of his class.
She stiffened. "If you don't let go, I'll do a lot worse than make you sting a little bit."
He held her for just a fraction longer than he should have. One minute she was flush against his body and the next she was facing him, with her wand firmly planted in his neck.
"Now, I'm going to pick my things up and go on my way. If you so much as think about following me again I'll hex you clear into next week. Do you understand?"
Draco nodded as her wand pushed further into his neck.
"Good."
When she turned around, Draco quickly slipped his hand in his cloak and drew his own wand, just in case. She might have been nice to look at, but he didn't trust her.
His eyes followed the gentle curve of her derriere as the fabric of her skirt tightened across it when she bent over. Draco cursed his uncontrollable hormones as his groin stirred a little. All he wanted to do was run his hand over her backside; to see if it felt as good as it looked.
Ginny straightened up again. "Malfoy, your wand!"
"What?"
"Remove your wand from my arse."
He looked down and sure enough his fourteen inches of black walnut was in his hand, and it was poking her firmly in the backside.
"If you don't put it away now, I'm going to bring mine out to play," Ginny threatened.
He should have been at least a little concerned at her tone, but he couldn't bring himself to care when he was this close to her. "Do you want to play, Weasley?"
She spun around to face him. Her expression was calm and a little amused, if he wasn't mistaken. With deliberate precision, Ginny pinched his wand between two fingers and pointed it away from her body. Then she deliberately looked him up and down, her amusement growing to make her eyes sparkle in a most enticing way. With a last smirk she turned on her heel and walked off.
"You didn't answer my question, Weasley." Draco had no idea why he was pursuing this issue so far. He should have just insulted her and gone back to his common room, but something kept him in the drafty corridor.
Ginny stopped and turned around again. She regarded the blond Slytherin for a moment, and then walked purposely towards him, stopping only when she was mere inches from his body. She smirked in a way that made his blood run cold. "You don't have the balls to play with me, Malfoy."
Draco stood there watching her flounce off. His brain was still trying to process what she'd just said when she reached the end of the corridor. All of a sudden he broke into a run. He had to catch her. He'd show her who had balls.
By the time he caught her, she was almost to the library doors. Without thinking about what he was about to do, Draco grabbed her shoulders and shoved her rudely into the wall. Before she could even react his mouth crashed down on hers.
He smirked as he raised his head to look at her. She was trying to push him away from her, but he stood firm.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" she bellowed.
"Playing," Draco replied, his confident smirk still in place.
"You obviously don't understand the rules."
"I think you underestimate my comprehension."
Ginny rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She should just hex him and get on with her homework, but homework was boring and this was interesting at least, and would be even more so when she left him howling in pain. "Rule number one, don't ever touch me."
"Don't touch you? So I can't do this?" Draco ran one hand down to her hip and the other cupped her face.
Ginny tried to remove his hand from her hip, but he was persistent. "No."
"Or this?" His hold on her firmed as his head dipped to again claim her lips.
A muffled 'no' was lost between them. His touch was soft, caressing and utterly intoxicating. Ginny knew she should be pushing him away and screaming blue murder or hexing him until he died, but bringing herself to put a stop to the best snog she'd ever had was another matter entirely. Lost in the sensations he was evoking on her body, she melted into his hard chest.
The sound of students coming closer interrupted their little encounter. Draco reluctantly stepped away from her and straightened his uniform. "I think you require some revision, Weasley. The rules you're playing under are completely outdated. Meet me at the Quidditch pitch tomorrow at three."
He knew how she'd answer his invitation if given the chance, so without waiting for a response, Draco strode away self-assuredly. While he wasn't certain she'd meet him, he was quietly confident. If he didn't miss his guess, she'd enjoyed that as much as he did. Perhaps he could give her a little reminder snog tomorrow, if the chance presented itself, just to make certain she'd show up for some 'revision'.
Quizzical looks from his friends greeted him when he entered his common room. They knew better than to ask where he'd been or what he'd been doing, unless he offered to tell them. Thoughts of what everyone would think of what he was doing were pushed brutally aside. Something about the way she'd kissed him back told him she was worth the trouble if they were found out. He sank onto the couch with a pleased smile on his face. Tomorrow afternoon couldn't come fast enough.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for Shardrive by request of Potatomaker. Thank you to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills!
BREAKING THE RULES
RULE NUMBER ONE
Draco cursed as he rushed down the path to the Quidditch pitch. He had been certain that training was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, but Pansy had informed him the team was on the pitch waiting for their intrepid leader. Of course, she followed this statement with a cackle that would put the hags in Knockturn Alley to shame.
Without thinking of who might be occupying the change rooms, Draco burst through the door. A piercing scream almost deafened him the second he crossed the threshold. The world seemed to slow down at that precise moment. His brain was furiously yelling at him to turn around and leave. However, his seventeen-year-old hormones seemed to have placed a permanent sticking charm on his feet.
A girl was screaming at him to get out, but his ears were ignoring her demands. The view was far too captivating to move away. A towel, held in place by her hand, covered her tall, slim body. It occurred to him, somewhere in the back of his mind that the towel hadn't been there when he first walked into the change room.
He watched as she bent over to retrieve her wand from the bench. Her long legs did indeed go all the way up. The creamy flesh was beckoning to him, begging him to reach out and stroke it. His eyes almost left his head when the towel slipped from her hand. It was every seventeen-year-old wizard’s fantasy — alone in the Quidditch change rooms with a naked witch.
Pain sliced through his body as he was flung into the wall. His befuddled mind distantly registered that the pain was caused by the stinging hex the girl had just hurled at him. He didn't much care; the view was still splendid.
"GET OUT, MALFOY!"
The shriek just about burst his eardrums and effectively got his feet moving towards the door. Back in the bright sunshine, his senses began to return to him. He was stinging all over from the hex and his head hurt where it made contact with the wall.
Even as he rubbed his aching head, he smirked arrogantly. The girl in the change rooms was in superb shape. There weren't many witches at Hogwarts he regarded as worth chasing, but this witch was different — she had his attention. At that moment, it occurred to him that he had no idea who she was. If asked, he could have given a faultless description of her legs, or the swell of her breasts, but with his eyes busy elsewhere her face hadn't registered.
Determined to discover her identity, Draco leaned up against the outside wall of the change rooms. She had to come out at some point and then he would make his move. A hundred pickup lines ran through his head. It was difficult to decide on the best approach, after all he'd already seen her naked, even if it was by accident.
After what seemed an age to the teenage wizard, there was some movement at the door. He was about to push off from the wall and pursue his quarry, but he stopped suddenly when he saw who walked from the change rooms.
Ginny Weasley was hurrying along the path back to the castle.
Draco shook his head. There had to be some mistake. That particular girl couldn't be the same one he'd ogled so imprudently. His witch must still be in the change rooms. He resumed his position against the wall. Time seemed to slow down, or so he thought as he waited.
After what seemed an eon to Draco, Pansy came traipsing down the path. She looked smug; an expression that always worried him.
"Why aren't you training, Draco? I came to watch you."
"I'm waiting to get into the change room," Draco replied impatiently.
"There are two rooms, use the other."
"My gear is in that one." His irritation with the girl was growing and he flung his hand in the direction of the room the screaming girl was occupying.
"Who's in there?"
"Some girl."
Pansy rolled her eyes at him. "Shall I give her a hurry up for you?"
"Yeah, that would be good." Draco appeared disinterested, but he was privately elated Pansy had made the offer. Little did she realize just how much he wanted the girl to come outside.
Minutes later Pansy reappeared in the doorway. "There's no one in here."
"What? There has to be! I saw her."
"Maybe you're seeing things?"
"I'm not seeing things, she was in there. She screamed at me and I didn't imagine that."
"Whatever," Pansy responded flippantly. "The room is empty now, so you can get changed. I'll wait for you at the pitch."
Draco resisted the urge to snarl at his friend as she passed him. They'd known each other practically all their lives, and because of that Pansy rarely showed him the respect he though he was due, particularly as she got older. She'd gone from a simpering girl to an arrogant young woman some time when he wasn't paying attention. He thought he preferred the simpering girl, she was far less likely to challenge him and easier to manipulate. Put simply, it made his life easier if he could get her to do what he wanted without a struggle.
As he changed, his mind drifted back to the screaming girl. It couldn't have been the Weaslette, surely. It didn't bear thinking about. There was no way she could look like that under her faded, too small uniform. When he grabbed his broomstick he pushed all thoughts of the girl from his head. He couldn't dwell on it at the moment, not with Quidditch practice.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ginny stormed back to the castle. She couldn't believe her luck. All she'd wanted was an hour or so on the pitch to clear her head, but no, the Slytherin team had to come and kick her off. Then their ferrety captain invaded her privacy while she was getting dressed. It was unbelievable. The way he wouldn't leave until she hexed him. Her blood boiled. When she caught up with Malfoy, he was a dead man or boy or whatever he was now.
Her mind continued to invent new ways to torture him until he begged for mercy or died, whatever came last. First his eyes, she didn't like the glazed way they were examining her body. Then his mouth, the way it went all slack when her towel slipped was simply disgusting. Next his legs would be in her firing line, mostly because they failed to move when she first screamed at him. She was half way across the Entrance Hall when her brother called out to her. So caught up in her evil plotting, she'd failed to notice him and Harry coming down the staircase.
"Ginny, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she lied automatically. If she so much as hinted at what Malfoy had done or not done she wouldn't have a chance to seek retribution herself.
Ron looked at his sister skeptically. He didn't believe her. "Sure, now how about you tell me the truth?"
"I said nothing was wrong," Ginny ground out angrily.
"Fine, don't say I never show concern then." He turned to Harry. "I tried, didn't I?"
"Just go away, Ron." Ginny stormed up the staircase. All she wanted was a little privacy to continue plotting her revenge on Malfoy.
"Yeah, you tried," Harry agreed. "But don't push your luck; remember what happened last time you kept on at her?"
Ron's face screwed up in revulsion and he muttered, "She told me what was bothering her."
"What if it's the same problem again?"
"I don't want to know!" Ron mounted the stairs to the Great Hall. Food was good at a time like this. It kept him from opening his mouth and asking questions he didn't really want answers to.
Harry chuckled heartily as he followed Ron. He'd been trying to erase the memory of the last time Ron had pushed Ginny to tell him what was bothering her for a couple of weeks now. Put simply, he really didn't need or want to know that she was feeling horrid, because she had cramps. Of course, Ron wouldn't leave it there, he had to know what was causing the pain and when Ginny spelled it out to him, both boys just about expired from embarrassment. There were some things she should keep to herself.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Great Hall was full of noise, as it usually was during mealtimes. Draco tried valiantly to keep his attention focused on his plate, but his mind and eyes kept wandering to the redheaded witch at the Gryffindor table. He was still firmly telling himself it couldn't have been her in the Quidditch change room, but something at the back of his mind, or was it his groin, kept nagging him.
She was laughing at something one of her silly little friends was saying. The creamy flesh of her neck was exposed when she tossed her head back to laugh; in what he thought was an unladylike gesture. He could envision himself gnawing on her flesh, turning the pale skin red. How had he not noticed her before? That was a lie. He had noticed her. In fact, he usually ended up on the wrong end of her wand. A snarl built up in his throat as she reached out and touched Potter's arm. What was she touching him for?
"You can't stop thinking about her, can you?" Pansy purred into his ear.
Draco swung around. Minutes ago he'd been sitting between Crabbe and Goyle. "How did you get there?"
"I squeezed in," Pansy admitted. "I've been watching you."
"So."
"Watching you watching her."
"What makes you think I'm watching anyone?"
"It was her you saw this afternoon in change rooms, wasn't it?"
"No," Draco denied.
"Come on, Malfoy, you can't lie to me. I know you too well." Pansy smirked confidently. "Besides, I heard her muttering to herself on the way back to the castle."
His interest was piqued and Draco quirked an eyebrow at his friend, imploring her to go on without openly admitting his curiosity.
"But you're not interested in any of that," Pansy said, dismissing his obvious interest.
"Parkinson," Draco growled.
"So, you are interested," Pansy responded smugly.
Draco growled at her and she rolled her eyes at him.
"I didn't hear everything she was saying, just fragments—"
"Just get on with it!"
"She made mention of you, butt-naked, leave and die."
"That's it?"
"Yes, that's all I heard." Pansy picked a piece of invisible lint from his shoulder. "Mind you there's a message in those few words if you care to look closely enough."
"Pray tell how do you get a message out of four unrelated words?"
"It's not hard, Draco. You walked in while she was getting changed, didn't you?"
A grunted of acknowledgement came from the blond wizard.
"And you didn't leave when she told you to, did you?" Pansy waited for a response, but received none. A sure sign Draco was guilty as charged. "So, she storms back up the castle muttering to herself using the word die— a lot."
"Your point?"
"Your life is in danger. She's going to kill you for not leaving straight away."
"Says you."
Pansy shook her head. "Says her."
"Ridiculous," Draco spat. He should have known better than to have this type of conversation with Pansy.
"If you think so," Pansy replied casually as she gracefully stepped over the bench seat. "Oh, there was one other thing she mentioned— Apparently, she detested the way your chin just about hit the floor when her towel dropped. Drooling like a heathen, were we?"
Although his upbringing had taught him well to hide his emotions, Draco had to fight hard to keep his face from flushing bright red. As ridiculous as it seemed, he felt like he'd been caught red handed peeking in the girls' lavatory right at that moment.
Pansy leaned over and whispered into his ear, "The tips of your ears are red, Malfoy."
Draco snarled and pushed her away from him. Escape from Pansy and the now curious stares the pair of them were receiving was the only thing on his mind. It was bad enough his own mind wouldn't let go of the memory, but to have Pansy know the girl got to him was potentially ruinous. If he could let go of the memory, as fine as it was, he might be able to salvage some dignity.
He strutted out of the Great Hall completely oblivious to the fact that he was actually following the girl who'd not left his thoughts since earlier that afternoon. It wasn't until he reached the doorway to the dungeons that he realized she was climbing the Grand Staircase. A smirk tugged at his lips.
For reasons he didn't wish to examine too closely, Draco followed her at a distance. She didn't know he was behind her, as far as he could ascertain, and from the route she was taking, he thought she might be heading to the library. Not that it mattered because he had no intention of stopping until he was ready or she discovered him.
The longer he followed her, the clearer it became that she wasn't like other girls, the girls who vied for his attention. Perhaps it was the way she didn't roll her hips in some exaggerated parody like the other girls? Hers was more of a subtle sway, barely even there to the casual observer. It was mesmerizing. No longer watching where he was actually walking Draco failed to notice that his quarry had stopped in her tracks and was bending over retrieving something from the floor. He walked straight into her rear end. Sheer reflex made him reach out and grab the witch by the hips to stop her pitching forward onto her head.
It wasn't until she started swatting at his hands did he realize he hadn't released his grip on her. She felt good—right, in his hands.
"Let me go," Ginny ground out angrily.
"What if I don't want to," Draco whispered before he could stop himself. What had come over him? This was a Weasley. Given she was beautiful, but still not of his class.
She stiffened. "If you don't let go, I'll do a lot worse than make you sting a little bit."
He held her for just a fraction longer than he should have. One minute she was flush against his body and the next she was facing him, with her wand firmly planted in his neck.
"Now, I'm going to pick my things up and go on my way. If you so much as think about following me again I'll hex you clear into next week. Do you understand?"
Draco nodded as her wand pushed further into his neck.
"Good."
When she turned around, Draco quickly slipped his hand in his cloak and drew his own wand, just in case. She might have been nice to look at, but he didn't trust her.
His eyes followed the gentle curve of her derriere as the fabric of her skirt tightened across it when she bent over. Draco cursed his uncontrollable hormones as his groin stirred a little. All he wanted to do was run his hand over her backside; to see if it felt as good as it looked.
Ginny straightened up again. "Malfoy, your wand!"
"What?"
"Remove your wand from my arse."
He looked down and sure enough his fourteen inches of black walnut was in his hand, and it was poking her firmly in the backside.
"If you don't put it away now, I'm going to bring mine out to play," Ginny threatened.
He should have been at least a little concerned at her tone, but he couldn't bring himself to care when he was this close to her. "Do you want to play, Weasley?"
She spun around to face him. Her expression was calm and a little amused, if he wasn't mistaken. With deliberate precision, Ginny pinched his wand between two fingers and pointed it away from her body. Then she deliberately looked him up and down, her amusement growing to make her eyes sparkle in a most enticing way. With a last smirk she turned on her heel and walked off.
"You didn't answer my question, Weasley." Draco had no idea why he was pursuing this issue so far. He should have just insulted her and gone back to his common room, but something kept him in the drafty corridor.
Ginny stopped and turned around again. She regarded the blond Slytherin for a moment, and then walked purposely towards him, stopping only when she was mere inches from his body. She smirked in a way that made his blood run cold. "You don't have the balls to play with me, Malfoy."
Draco stood there watching her flounce off. His brain was still trying to process what she'd just said when she reached the end of the corridor. All of a sudden he broke into a run. He had to catch her. He'd show her who had balls.
By the time he caught her, she was almost to the library doors. Without thinking about what he was about to do, Draco grabbed her shoulders and shoved her rudely into the wall. Before she could even react his mouth crashed down on hers.
He smirked as he raised his head to look at her. She was trying to push him away from her, but he stood firm.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" she bellowed.
"Playing," Draco replied, his confident smirk still in place.
"You obviously don't understand the rules."
"I think you underestimate my comprehension."
Ginny rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She should just hex him and get on with her homework, but homework was boring and this was interesting at least, and would be even more so when she left him howling in pain. "Rule number one, don't ever touch me."
"Don't touch you? So I can't do this?" Draco ran one hand down to her hip and the other cupped her face.
Ginny tried to remove his hand from her hip, but he was persistent. "No."
"Or this?" His hold on her firmed as his head dipped to again claim her lips.
A muffled 'no' was lost between them. His touch was soft, caressing and utterly intoxicating. Ginny knew she should be pushing him away and screaming blue murder or hexing him until he died, but bringing herself to put a stop to the best snog she'd ever had was another matter entirely. Lost in the sensations he was evoking on her body, she melted into his hard chest.
The sound of students coming closer interrupted their little encounter. Draco reluctantly stepped away from her and straightened his uniform. "I think you require some revision, Weasley. The rules you're playing under are completely outdated. Meet me at the Quidditch pitch tomorrow at three."
He knew how she'd answer his invitation if given the chance, so without waiting for a response, Draco strode away self-assuredly. While he wasn't certain she'd meet him, he was quietly confident. If he didn't miss his guess, she'd enjoyed that as much as he did. Perhaps he could give her a little reminder snog tomorrow, if the chance presented itself, just to make certain she'd show up for some 'revision'.
Quizzical looks from his friends greeted him when he entered his common room. They knew better than to ask where he'd been or what he'd been doing, unless he offered to tell them. Thoughts of what everyone would think of what he was doing were pushed brutally aside. Something about the way she'd kissed him back told him she was worth the trouble if they were found out. He sank onto the couch with a pleased smile on his face. Tomorrow afternoon couldn't come fast enough.
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