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.
BREAKING THE RULES
REVISION
Draco huffed impatiently and slumped against the wall of the Quidditch stadium. He had clearly said three o'clock, and it was already a quarter after. She was late. Even though he was well hidden in the shadows, he had a clear view of the path leading to the stadium, so he knew she hadn't snuck past him, and he had checked around the general vicinity when he first arrived to make certain she hadn't arrived early.
He would give her a little while longer to show herself, and then he would leave, but she would feel his fury for standing him up. Most witches would have been here early, eagerly awaiting him to join them. A voice in the back of his head reminded him that Weasley was not most witches. Weasley was an entity unto herself.
"You're waiting for her, aren't you?"
Startled, Draco jumped and spun around. "Where did you come from?" he snapped.
"I was already here. I've been watching you," Pansy said with a smirk. She'd easily avoided her blond friend when he'd scouted the area upon arrival. "She's not coming."
"She'll come," Draco said confidently.
"Why? Because no one can resist you?"
"She'll come," Draco growled.
"Well, if she does show up it will only to be to hex you."
"What makes you think she'd hex me?"
"That's what she was considering in the library last night. You know the way she mutters to herself... Oh, you don't, do you? Well, it seems she was having some trouble deciding which hex to use... You know, to inflict the greatest amount of pain." Pansy grinned broadly at him.
"Rubbish."
"Don't believe me then, but as a friend I had to warn you."
"Parkinson, go away."
"Fine," Pansy replied flippantly, turning to leave. "You want to be careful, Malfoy, she's not the sort to be trifled with."
"I'll do as I please."
"Oh, well, I guess I tried." Pansy smiled at him in a feral fashion. "Any last wishes?"
"Yes," Draco snarled, "for you to disappear."
"That I can do." Pansy began walking away, but paused as she saw a flash of red hair coming down the path. "Oh, Malfoy, you'd best brace yourself, she's on her way to cause you pain."
Draco craned his neck to see just the tiniest flash of bright Weasley hair coming down the path. Not wanting to seem too eager, he consciously schooled his features to a virtually bored expression and leaned back against the stadium casually. As she drew closer, he could see she wasn't going to look his way at all. He smirked self-assuredly. She was a smart girl and obviously knew there was little to be gained by making their little rendezvous public knowledge.
He watched as she disappeared inside the very change room she'd been in yesterday afternoon. Although he felt the urge to rush in there after her, Draco waited a few minutes and then entered.
"It's about time you turned up," he drawled. "Are you always this tardy?"
"Excuse me?"
"We had an appointment," Draco reminded her.
"I didn't agree to meet you."
"Then why are you here?" Draco asked, confident she'd stammer her way through some pathetic explanation of how she wasn't here to meet him, when she really was.
"I have Quidditch practice."
He arched a knowing eyebrow at her. It was a nice excuse, and she didn't once stammer. "Quidditch practice?"
"Yes, you know—broomsticks, balls, and tactics." Ginny spoke slowly as if talking to a dim child. "Not that we need them to wipe the pitch with your sorry excuse for a team."
"You'll need more than luck and slow brooms to secure a victory over Slytherin," Draco retorted a little more harshly than he'd intended. He took a deep breath and calmed himself before continuing. "You know, I could instruct the team to go easier on you."
Ginny snorted derisively. "You mean they've been playing at their best?"
"Maybe I should tell them to target you," Draco snarled.
"Ooh, a challenge! I love a challenge," Ginny mocked.
"Weasley, you and I both know you're not here for—" Draco paused as he heard voices outside the change rooms. It suddenly occurred to him that it was quite possible that the Gryffindors did have a Quidditch practice scheduled.
"Mmm... I wonder what my brother would do to you if he found you in here with me?" Ginny pretended to ponder this for a moment or two. "He'd probably have a poke at you first, and then he'd Floo for the rest of my brothers. You know, I have six brothers in total."
Draco looked around wildly for somewhere to hide. While he wanted to learn more about this perplexing girl, he saw no point in risking his life to do so.
"Oh, for goodness sakes, get in here!"
He looked up to see her holding one of the equipment trunks open. The space looked far too small for him, but there seemed to be no other choice. He would have to squeeze into the trunk or face the prospect of death by Merlin only knew how many Weasleys.
"Come on, hurry up, or they'll be in here before you even move," Ginny urged.
Draco obeyed without question then. Her instance that he get out of sight told him clearly that she didn't want him to be caught. It was a tight fit, but he did manage to fold his body into the trunk.
"Something tells me you don't want me to be at the mercy of your brothers," Draco commented smugly when he was finally in position.
"And let them have all the fun? I don't think so." She smirked evilly. "I'll let you out when it's safe."
Before Draco could respond, the lid went down on the trunk and he was in total blackness. His heart started to beat a bit faster when he heard the bolts sliding closed. What if she left him in here? No one knew he was here, except her. Perhaps Pansy would miss him at some stage, but that wouldn't be for hours, maybe even not until tomorrow morning. It was then that he started kicking himself for being foolish enough to put himself in this position for a pathetic case of lust.
The noise level outside the trunk increased for while. Draco recognized a few of the voices — Potter and Weasel, to be specific. Before long everything fell silent. He waited for the witch to open the trunk, for surely she had remained behind to release him. Time passed slowly and he tried to reassure himself that it just seemed like a long time, because he was locked in a trunk. However, he eventually had to admit to himself, at least, that she had deserted him. Possible solutions ran through his head one after another, but none of them were plausible considering he couldn't reach his wand.
Panic began to invade his mind, and Draco started to make as much noise as he could to alert anyone to his whereabouts. He could envision his own funeral, hear his own eulogy... suffocated to death while coveting a bit of skirt. His mother would be devastated. His father would be disgusted. And he would be dead.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Good session everyone!" Harry expressed loudly as the Gryffindor team entered the change rooms. "Ron, you want to watch how far you come out off the hoops in the game."
"You just keep an eye out for the Snitch, and I'll worry about the hoops," Ron grumbled. It had been a hard session, and after two hours on his broom all he wanted to do was eat and sleep, in that order.
"Ginny, you need—" Harry started. "Where is she?"
"Still in the air," Ron informed his friend and captain. "She'll come down when we're done in here."
"I wanted everyone in here, damn it!"
"Well, she's not being in here while we're showering," Ron said firmly.
"Fine," Harry growled. "We'll have a meeting in the Common Room after dinner. Everyone will attend... No excuses!"
A rumble of acknowledgement came from the rest of the team as they prepared to hit the showers.
Ron frowned and spun around. "Hey, what's that noise?"
"What noise?" asked Jimmy Peakes, holding tight to his beater's bat just in case.
"Shut up, everyone!" Ron listened carefully for a moment and then started to advance slowly on the trunk in the corner. He could hear bumps and funny sort of strangled sounds coming from within.
"It's a Boggart!" Demelza Robins said from behind him.
"Shut up," Ron snarled, kneeling next to the trunk. From the sounds it was making, he didn't think the thing inside the trunk would turn into a giant spider the moment he laid his eyes on it. He reached for the bolts.
"Ron, stand up before you do that," Harry warned. "You don't know what's in there."
"I think it's more of a who, than a what," Ron mumbled.
"It doesn't matter, stand up just in case."
"All right." Ron stood up and then slid the bolts into their unlocked positions, moving away from the trunk hastily.
"You didn't open it," Ritchie Coote pointed out.
"Wait," Ron whispered.
All of a sudden the lid of the trunk burst open to a chorus of gasps.
Harry stepped up in front of his team. "What are you doing in here, Malfoy?"
"What does it look like, Potter?" Draco rasped out as he lifted himself out of the trunk. Though thankful for his freedom, he wasn't about to let the audience know that.
"It looks like you were trying to spy," Ron interjected gruffly.
"Think what you will, Weasley," Draco sneered croakily. His voice lacked its usual sting after two hours of yelling for help. "You wouldn't believe the truth if I told you."
"You wouldn't know what the truth was if it bit you on the arse," Ron pointed out succinctly.
Draco smirked, his devious Slytherin mind going to work to decide the most painful way to hit back at the redheaded oaf in front of him. "Fine, if you must know... I was in here trying to get into your sister's knickers when we heard you lot coming. She stuffed me in the trunk to save my life."
Ron's expression had gone from smug to rage and then to mocking disbelief, as Draco had explained his version of events. "You're full of it! Ginny wouldn't touch you with a ten foot broomstick."
"Like I said before, think what you will, Weasley," Draco drawled. "It matters not."
"Oi, where do you think you're going?" Ron asked as the Slytherin started for the door.
"I very obviously don't want to be present during your showering ritual," Draco replied superciliously.
"Just let him go, Ron," Harry instructed wearily. The last thing he had the energy for tonight was a battle with his nemesis. "Even if he was here to spy, he didn't hear anything."
Draco could hear Weasley muttering obscenities as he exited the change rooms. Relieved that he'd escaped without injury, Draco headed straight for the Quidditch stadium. He still had a score to settle with the oaf's sister, and if he'd heard correctly, she was still flying. Rather than risk his life by making a public scene, Draco slipped into the bowels of the structure. If he was right, she would eventually be alone in the change rooms, and that was when he would extract his revenge. After all, he'd waited this long, so what was a little while longer?
Along with keeping an eye on the witch in the sky, he also kept a close watch on the change room door. Draco wanted to be certain all the other members of the Gryffindor team left the building, before making his move. He didn't need to be told if they found him to be still hanging around that his health would suffer.
After what seemed an eternity, but was probably a far shorter time than he took himself to clean up after training, the Gryffindor team began to file from the room. Draco observed Potter walk back into the stadium and whistle to the Chaser still on her broom, to let her know they were done.
From his vantage point, Draco could see Potter escort the witch to the change rooms. The dolt gave her flying tips while they walked, as if he was some sort of expert. Of course, this amused the blond, considering Weasley had most likely been flying well before Potter even knew broomsticks existed. When Potter finally left, she went into the change rooms — alone.
Draco waited patiently until The Fool Who Lived was well out of sight before stepping out from under the Quidditch stadium. He looked around carefully, checking to see if anyone else was in the general vicinity, before exposing himself entirely. When he was certain no one else was close by, Draco crossed to the change rooms and silently slipped inside.
He could hear one of the showers running and a light, melodic humming coming from the bathroom area, but apart from that the change rooms were as serene as the forest. A smirk tugged at his lips as he surreptitiously crept across the floor, collecting her wand from the bench on the way, and peeked into the showers.
In hindsight, it was probably a mistake of gigantic proportions to spy on her while she was showering, but he couldn't help himself. The lure of her naked body was too much for his hormones to ignore.
He admired the way her back arched as she rinsed the soap from her hair, imagining how it would feel if she arched into his touch. His tongue flicked out unconsciously to wet his lips, as he noted how the water fell off her pert breasts and took up the trail some inches below to the crisp curls between her legs. In his head, he was caressing her slick skin, and tangling his fingers in those curls just enough to make her gasp. It was just like perusing a live Playwitch magazine, and his body was reacting in much the same manner.
A piercing scream followed by a hard, wet thump in the middle of his forehead brought Draco back to reality. So caught up in his fantasy, he'd failed to notice that she'd opened her eyes, thrown a bar of soap at him and was now staring at him in horror.
"GET OUT!"
"Come on, Weasley, it's not like I haven't seen it all before," Draco said boldly. The knowledge that she wasn't hiding her wand on her person anywhere gave him confidence to assert himself and chase exactly what he was after with conviction.
"Out," Ginny ground out angrily, reaching for her towel and securing it around her body tightly.
"I don't think you really want me to leave," Draco commented casually. "I think you want me to stay... To give you that lesson I promised you yesterday."
"You're delusional," Ginny spat as she pushed past the Slytherin and left the shower area in preference for the locker room.
Draco turned around on the spot, leaning on the door jam and smirking as she furiously searched her carelessly discarded Quidditch uniform for something. The view, while not as good without the towel, was quite enticing. There was no doubt in his mind what she was looking for. He extracted her wand from the back of his pants, and twirled it around his fingers as he held it up. "Looking for something?"
"My— You! Give me my wand, now!"
"You know, something tells me that wouldn't be entirely good for my well-being, so I think I'll hang on to it for just a while longer," Draco responded thoughtfully, shoving the length of wood back down his pants.
The incensed witch snarled at him viciously. "You know, I don't need my wand to beat you to a pulp."
Draco quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement, even though his mind was reminding him not to trust her — she wasn't like other girls and would more than likely follow through, or try to, on her threat. "You don't want to do that, not really."
"Don't tempt me, Malfoy, because right now nothing would give me more pleasure."
"What you want is to feel my lips on yours again, isn't it?" Draco advanced a few paces. "You enjoyed that last night, didn't you, Weasley?"
"I most certainly did not!"
"Now you're telling fibs. You loved it."
"Like I said before, you're delusional," Ginny snapped, eying the advancing boy up and down, deliberately pausing to take in the view at his groin. "It's not surprising really, considering all the blood in your body has collected in one place."
The color rose just a little in Draco's cheeks. He knew he was sporting a raging hard-on. He was trying valiantly to ignore the way his trousers were straining, considering there was little he could do about it now, and it obviously wasn't going to go away on its own. Besides it was her fault. Who ever heard of anyone looking so damned shagable while they were washing their hair?
"Are you blushing?" Ginny snorted with laughter. "Oh my god! Draco Malfoy is blushing!"
"Shut it, Weasley," Draco growled.
She cocked her head to the side and looked at him with merriment still dancing in her eyes. "And what if I don't?"
"I'll make you," he ground out irritably.
"Sure you will," Ginny purred, giving him a saucy wink.
Draco blinked at her, completely taken aback by her sudden change of attitude. Perhaps her amusement had mellowed her temper? Could he be so lucky? He could live with the mortification of her teasing, if it meant he might be able to get close to her again, and in doing so perhaps even do something about the subject of her mockery.
"Now, if you don't mind." Ginny looked pointedly towards the doorway leading outside.
"As a matter of a fact, I do mind," Draco drawled slowly.
"Malfoy!" The death-threat in her tone was unmistakable.
"It's not like I haven't—" Draco paused to look her up and down predatorily. "—seen it all before."
"Because you've barged into the change rooms uninvited!"
"A mere technicality, Weasley."
"A technicality that could land you in detention until hell freezes over," Ginny pointed out smugly.
"Only if someone finds out."
"I might be tempted to—"
"All right, I'll turn around."
"No, you'll give me my wand and disappear."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Weasley."
"Why would that be, Malfoy?"
"Like I said last night, you're in desperate need of some revision, and it would be remiss of me to ignore that fact."
"There is nothing wrong—"
"Au contraire." Draco stepped closer to her again. He was mere feet from her now, and the urge to reach out and touch her was making his fingers twitch. "I feel you do need some revision," he whispered thickly.
"What makes you think you're the one who should give it to me?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, I have had a lot of practice, and what you need is a man with experience."
"A man? Thanks for clearing that up, Malfoy. I'll make sure I go looking for one the first opportunity I get."
Draco gaped at her for just a second before fixing the redheaded witch with an icy glare.
"Did I say something wrong?" Ginny feigned ignorance. "Oh... oh! You meant you! But you're just a boy." She had to slap her hand over her mouth to stop from laughing aloud at the Slytherin, with the now deflated ego, in front of her.
Draco snarled in the back of his throat and closed the remaining feet between them in one large step. "I'll show you the difference, shall I?"
"That's not really necessary," Ginny said quickly, stepping away from the angry wizard.
"You can run, Weasley, but you can't hide," Draco teased, closing the gap again.
She cursed the state of her undress. If she was actually dressed, she could have kicked him where it was guaranteed to stop any persistent wizard and escaped, but to risk such a move with only a towel around her would have not only left her exposed, it would have been silly. Instead, Ginny pushed off his chest hard and turned towards the door. She wasn't truly surprised when she only made it a few steps before she felt his arm snake around her waist and pulled her into his chest.
"Where do you think you're going?" Draco whispered into her ear.
"Let me go!" Ginny cringed when she heard how weak her voice sounded. All she could do was hope that he wasn’t perceptive enough to read anything into the tone she'd used, because it most definitely said, 'don't let me go'.
"I don't think you really want me to."
Ginny willed herself not to react to his breath puffing against her neck, but she couldn't help it; gooseflesh rose in its wake, making her feel delightfully giddy. If that wasn't enough, she found herself rather liking the way his strong, muscular arm held her against his hard chest. When she started to remember what his lips felt like on hers, she lost all sense of propriety.
Draco loosened his grasp on her just a little when she started to turn in his arms. Something told him this wasn't a bid for freedom, or a ploy to facilitate her escape. Her eyes were like windows to her soul, and he knew what she wanted by taking the briefest of glances.
As his mouth descended on hers, Ginny's eyes fluttered closed. Like the night before, she melted into his chest and her brain ceased to function, except to recognize just how good a kisser Draco Malfoy was. She could feel his hands wandering over the towel covering her body, and winding through her hair. Before she realized what was happening, his tongue was exploring her mouth with such skill that her knees went weak. If he were to step away from her now, she'd more than likely land on her nose on the floor.
She tasted faintly of mint and chocolate, so sweet he could have dined on her mouth forever. Her hands eventually gave up their purchase on the top of the towel and began to inch their way across his chest. The tingling trail they left served only to make his brain more dysfunctional, but at least it silenced the nagging voice in the back of his head that was insisting this was not a good choice. As soon as Draco felt her hands spread over his back, he allowed one of his hands to drift down to her derriere and pull her flush against his body.
Ginny gasped into his mouth when she felt the hard bulge of his pants through the towel. It wasn't that she didn't know it was there, because it was she who pointed it out earlier, she'd simply never been so close to an excited man before, and the way he felt surprised her. When his fingers started massaging her backside, all thoughts of what his body was doing floated out the window. Ginny knew the towel covering her modesty must have been riding up with his attentions, but she found she didn't much care, so long as that delicious feeling between her thighs didn't disappear.
With reluctance, Draco began to draw his mouth away. Air was becoming an issue for him, and he'd been accused of being able to breathe through his ears in the past, so he figured it would be the same for her. He placed almost imperceptible kisses over her face in an effort to maintain contact with this girl who was making his thoughts go down paths they'd always avoided before. "I think you could do with some more practice, Weasley. Just to perfect what we've gone over today. I suggest meeting at least once a day."
"Once a day?"
"Yes, and just so you know, I only take on one student at a time." Draco placed a feathery kiss on her forehead.
"What are you saying?" Ginny asked cautiously.
"Let me put it this way: I'd hate to have to waste hours in detention for discouraging anyone else who felt the need to touch you."
"I see." Ginny smirked, catching on to what he was requesting in a roundabout way. "Well, you are aware that I don't like any witch even glancing at what's mine."
"I can't stop them looking, but I can bat them away when they try to touch," Draco offered.
Ginny thought for a moment. "All right, but if any one person is persistent I want to hear about her from you."
"I can accommodate that wish."
"Good, because the alternative is to remove your reason for being looked at." Ginny glanced down to where his erection was prodding her insistently.
"Yes, well—" Draco swallowed hard and slapped himself mentally. What was he getting himself into here? She was not only a Weasley, she was decidedly scary to boot.
Yesterday he'd been quite happy with his life: sowing his wild oats in as many fields as possible, without a care in the world. Now he was not only considering seeing one witch exclusively, it actually made him feel good to be thinking along those lines. All it had taken was one glimpse of her creamy flesh to comprehensively befuddle his mind. Powerless to put a stop to the compulsion to be with her, all he could do was go along for the ride and hope he survived, or that someone identified the fact that he'd gone nutters and admitted him to ward forty-nine at St. Mungo's for urgently needed treatment.
"So, are we going to tell anyone or are we going to slink around in the shadows?"
When she smiled at him all his doubts evaporated. He might not be planning to make any loud declarations from the Astronomy Tower or have designs on making a grand announcement in the Great Hall, but he didn't want to have to sneak around. Yes, something told him she was worth the trouble they were likely to encounter. That was as long as he survived her brothers finding out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills!
BREAKING THE RULES
REVISION
Draco huffed impatiently and slumped against the wall of the Quidditch stadium. He had clearly said three o'clock, and it was already a quarter after. She was late. Even though he was well hidden in the shadows, he had a clear view of the path leading to the stadium, so he knew she hadn't snuck past him, and he had checked around the general vicinity when he first arrived to make certain she hadn't arrived early.
He would give her a little while longer to show herself, and then he would leave, but she would feel his fury for standing him up. Most witches would have been here early, eagerly awaiting him to join them. A voice in the back of his head reminded him that Weasley was not most witches. Weasley was an entity unto herself.
"You're waiting for her, aren't you?"
Startled, Draco jumped and spun around. "Where did you come from?" he snapped.
"I was already here. I've been watching you," Pansy said with a smirk. She'd easily avoided her blond friend when he'd scouted the area upon arrival. "She's not coming."
"She'll come," Draco said confidently.
"Why? Because no one can resist you?"
"She'll come," Draco growled.
"Well, if she does show up it will only to be to hex you."
"What makes you think she'd hex me?"
"That's what she was considering in the library last night. You know the way she mutters to herself... Oh, you don't, do you? Well, it seems she was having some trouble deciding which hex to use... You know, to inflict the greatest amount of pain." Pansy grinned broadly at him.
"Rubbish."
"Don't believe me then, but as a friend I had to warn you."
"Parkinson, go away."
"Fine," Pansy replied flippantly, turning to leave. "You want to be careful, Malfoy, she's not the sort to be trifled with."
"I'll do as I please."
"Oh, well, I guess I tried." Pansy smiled at him in a feral fashion. "Any last wishes?"
"Yes," Draco snarled, "for you to disappear."
"That I can do." Pansy began walking away, but paused as she saw a flash of red hair coming down the path. "Oh, Malfoy, you'd best brace yourself, she's on her way to cause you pain."
Draco craned his neck to see just the tiniest flash of bright Weasley hair coming down the path. Not wanting to seem too eager, he consciously schooled his features to a virtually bored expression and leaned back against the stadium casually. As she drew closer, he could see she wasn't going to look his way at all. He smirked self-assuredly. She was a smart girl and obviously knew there was little to be gained by making their little rendezvous public knowledge.
He watched as she disappeared inside the very change room she'd been in yesterday afternoon. Although he felt the urge to rush in there after her, Draco waited a few minutes and then entered.
"It's about time you turned up," he drawled. "Are you always this tardy?"
"Excuse me?"
"We had an appointment," Draco reminded her.
"I didn't agree to meet you."
"Then why are you here?" Draco asked, confident she'd stammer her way through some pathetic explanation of how she wasn't here to meet him, when she really was.
"I have Quidditch practice."
He arched a knowing eyebrow at her. It was a nice excuse, and she didn't once stammer. "Quidditch practice?"
"Yes, you know—broomsticks, balls, and tactics." Ginny spoke slowly as if talking to a dim child. "Not that we need them to wipe the pitch with your sorry excuse for a team."
"You'll need more than luck and slow brooms to secure a victory over Slytherin," Draco retorted a little more harshly than he'd intended. He took a deep breath and calmed himself before continuing. "You know, I could instruct the team to go easier on you."
Ginny snorted derisively. "You mean they've been playing at their best?"
"Maybe I should tell them to target you," Draco snarled.
"Ooh, a challenge! I love a challenge," Ginny mocked.
"Weasley, you and I both know you're not here for—" Draco paused as he heard voices outside the change rooms. It suddenly occurred to him that it was quite possible that the Gryffindors did have a Quidditch practice scheduled.
"Mmm... I wonder what my brother would do to you if he found you in here with me?" Ginny pretended to ponder this for a moment or two. "He'd probably have a poke at you first, and then he'd Floo for the rest of my brothers. You know, I have six brothers in total."
Draco looked around wildly for somewhere to hide. While he wanted to learn more about this perplexing girl, he saw no point in risking his life to do so.
"Oh, for goodness sakes, get in here!"
He looked up to see her holding one of the equipment trunks open. The space looked far too small for him, but there seemed to be no other choice. He would have to squeeze into the trunk or face the prospect of death by Merlin only knew how many Weasleys.
"Come on, hurry up, or they'll be in here before you even move," Ginny urged.
Draco obeyed without question then. Her instance that he get out of sight told him clearly that she didn't want him to be caught. It was a tight fit, but he did manage to fold his body into the trunk.
"Something tells me you don't want me to be at the mercy of your brothers," Draco commented smugly when he was finally in position.
"And let them have all the fun? I don't think so." She smirked evilly. "I'll let you out when it's safe."
Before Draco could respond, the lid went down on the trunk and he was in total blackness. His heart started to beat a bit faster when he heard the bolts sliding closed. What if she left him in here? No one knew he was here, except her. Perhaps Pansy would miss him at some stage, but that wouldn't be for hours, maybe even not until tomorrow morning. It was then that he started kicking himself for being foolish enough to put himself in this position for a pathetic case of lust.
The noise level outside the trunk increased for while. Draco recognized a few of the voices — Potter and Weasel, to be specific. Before long everything fell silent. He waited for the witch to open the trunk, for surely she had remained behind to release him. Time passed slowly and he tried to reassure himself that it just seemed like a long time, because he was locked in a trunk. However, he eventually had to admit to himself, at least, that she had deserted him. Possible solutions ran through his head one after another, but none of them were plausible considering he couldn't reach his wand.
Panic began to invade his mind, and Draco started to make as much noise as he could to alert anyone to his whereabouts. He could envision his own funeral, hear his own eulogy... suffocated to death while coveting a bit of skirt. His mother would be devastated. His father would be disgusted. And he would be dead.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Good session everyone!" Harry expressed loudly as the Gryffindor team entered the change rooms. "Ron, you want to watch how far you come out off the hoops in the game."
"You just keep an eye out for the Snitch, and I'll worry about the hoops," Ron grumbled. It had been a hard session, and after two hours on his broom all he wanted to do was eat and sleep, in that order.
"Ginny, you need—" Harry started. "Where is she?"
"Still in the air," Ron informed his friend and captain. "She'll come down when we're done in here."
"I wanted everyone in here, damn it!"
"Well, she's not being in here while we're showering," Ron said firmly.
"Fine," Harry growled. "We'll have a meeting in the Common Room after dinner. Everyone will attend... No excuses!"
A rumble of acknowledgement came from the rest of the team as they prepared to hit the showers.
Ron frowned and spun around. "Hey, what's that noise?"
"What noise?" asked Jimmy Peakes, holding tight to his beater's bat just in case.
"Shut up, everyone!" Ron listened carefully for a moment and then started to advance slowly on the trunk in the corner. He could hear bumps and funny sort of strangled sounds coming from within.
"It's a Boggart!" Demelza Robins said from behind him.
"Shut up," Ron snarled, kneeling next to the trunk. From the sounds it was making, he didn't think the thing inside the trunk would turn into a giant spider the moment he laid his eyes on it. He reached for the bolts.
"Ron, stand up before you do that," Harry warned. "You don't know what's in there."
"I think it's more of a who, than a what," Ron mumbled.
"It doesn't matter, stand up just in case."
"All right." Ron stood up and then slid the bolts into their unlocked positions, moving away from the trunk hastily.
"You didn't open it," Ritchie Coote pointed out.
"Wait," Ron whispered.
All of a sudden the lid of the trunk burst open to a chorus of gasps.
Harry stepped up in front of his team. "What are you doing in here, Malfoy?"
"What does it look like, Potter?" Draco rasped out as he lifted himself out of the trunk. Though thankful for his freedom, he wasn't about to let the audience know that.
"It looks like you were trying to spy," Ron interjected gruffly.
"Think what you will, Weasley," Draco sneered croakily. His voice lacked its usual sting after two hours of yelling for help. "You wouldn't believe the truth if I told you."
"You wouldn't know what the truth was if it bit you on the arse," Ron pointed out succinctly.
Draco smirked, his devious Slytherin mind going to work to decide the most painful way to hit back at the redheaded oaf in front of him. "Fine, if you must know... I was in here trying to get into your sister's knickers when we heard you lot coming. She stuffed me in the trunk to save my life."
Ron's expression had gone from smug to rage and then to mocking disbelief, as Draco had explained his version of events. "You're full of it! Ginny wouldn't touch you with a ten foot broomstick."
"Like I said before, think what you will, Weasley," Draco drawled. "It matters not."
"Oi, where do you think you're going?" Ron asked as the Slytherin started for the door.
"I very obviously don't want to be present during your showering ritual," Draco replied superciliously.
"Just let him go, Ron," Harry instructed wearily. The last thing he had the energy for tonight was a battle with his nemesis. "Even if he was here to spy, he didn't hear anything."
Draco could hear Weasley muttering obscenities as he exited the change rooms. Relieved that he'd escaped without injury, Draco headed straight for the Quidditch stadium. He still had a score to settle with the oaf's sister, and if he'd heard correctly, she was still flying. Rather than risk his life by making a public scene, Draco slipped into the bowels of the structure. If he was right, she would eventually be alone in the change rooms, and that was when he would extract his revenge. After all, he'd waited this long, so what was a little while longer?
Along with keeping an eye on the witch in the sky, he also kept a close watch on the change room door. Draco wanted to be certain all the other members of the Gryffindor team left the building, before making his move. He didn't need to be told if they found him to be still hanging around that his health would suffer.
After what seemed an eternity, but was probably a far shorter time than he took himself to clean up after training, the Gryffindor team began to file from the room. Draco observed Potter walk back into the stadium and whistle to the Chaser still on her broom, to let her know they were done.
From his vantage point, Draco could see Potter escort the witch to the change rooms. The dolt gave her flying tips while they walked, as if he was some sort of expert. Of course, this amused the blond, considering Weasley had most likely been flying well before Potter even knew broomsticks existed. When Potter finally left, she went into the change rooms — alone.
Draco waited patiently until The Fool Who Lived was well out of sight before stepping out from under the Quidditch stadium. He looked around carefully, checking to see if anyone else was in the general vicinity, before exposing himself entirely. When he was certain no one else was close by, Draco crossed to the change rooms and silently slipped inside.
He could hear one of the showers running and a light, melodic humming coming from the bathroom area, but apart from that the change rooms were as serene as the forest. A smirk tugged at his lips as he surreptitiously crept across the floor, collecting her wand from the bench on the way, and peeked into the showers.
In hindsight, it was probably a mistake of gigantic proportions to spy on her while she was showering, but he couldn't help himself. The lure of her naked body was too much for his hormones to ignore.
He admired the way her back arched as she rinsed the soap from her hair, imagining how it would feel if she arched into his touch. His tongue flicked out unconsciously to wet his lips, as he noted how the water fell off her pert breasts and took up the trail some inches below to the crisp curls between her legs. In his head, he was caressing her slick skin, and tangling his fingers in those curls just enough to make her gasp. It was just like perusing a live Playwitch magazine, and his body was reacting in much the same manner.
A piercing scream followed by a hard, wet thump in the middle of his forehead brought Draco back to reality. So caught up in his fantasy, he'd failed to notice that she'd opened her eyes, thrown a bar of soap at him and was now staring at him in horror.
"GET OUT!"
"Come on, Weasley, it's not like I haven't seen it all before," Draco said boldly. The knowledge that she wasn't hiding her wand on her person anywhere gave him confidence to assert himself and chase exactly what he was after with conviction.
"Out," Ginny ground out angrily, reaching for her towel and securing it around her body tightly.
"I don't think you really want me to leave," Draco commented casually. "I think you want me to stay... To give you that lesson I promised you yesterday."
"You're delusional," Ginny spat as she pushed past the Slytherin and left the shower area in preference for the locker room.
Draco turned around on the spot, leaning on the door jam and smirking as she furiously searched her carelessly discarded Quidditch uniform for something. The view, while not as good without the towel, was quite enticing. There was no doubt in his mind what she was looking for. He extracted her wand from the back of his pants, and twirled it around his fingers as he held it up. "Looking for something?"
"My— You! Give me my wand, now!"
"You know, something tells me that wouldn't be entirely good for my well-being, so I think I'll hang on to it for just a while longer," Draco responded thoughtfully, shoving the length of wood back down his pants.
The incensed witch snarled at him viciously. "You know, I don't need my wand to beat you to a pulp."
Draco quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement, even though his mind was reminding him not to trust her — she wasn't like other girls and would more than likely follow through, or try to, on her threat. "You don't want to do that, not really."
"Don't tempt me, Malfoy, because right now nothing would give me more pleasure."
"What you want is to feel my lips on yours again, isn't it?" Draco advanced a few paces. "You enjoyed that last night, didn't you, Weasley?"
"I most certainly did not!"
"Now you're telling fibs. You loved it."
"Like I said before, you're delusional," Ginny snapped, eying the advancing boy up and down, deliberately pausing to take in the view at his groin. "It's not surprising really, considering all the blood in your body has collected in one place."
The color rose just a little in Draco's cheeks. He knew he was sporting a raging hard-on. He was trying valiantly to ignore the way his trousers were straining, considering there was little he could do about it now, and it obviously wasn't going to go away on its own. Besides it was her fault. Who ever heard of anyone looking so damned shagable while they were washing their hair?
"Are you blushing?" Ginny snorted with laughter. "Oh my god! Draco Malfoy is blushing!"
"Shut it, Weasley," Draco growled.
She cocked her head to the side and looked at him with merriment still dancing in her eyes. "And what if I don't?"
"I'll make you," he ground out irritably.
"Sure you will," Ginny purred, giving him a saucy wink.
Draco blinked at her, completely taken aback by her sudden change of attitude. Perhaps her amusement had mellowed her temper? Could he be so lucky? He could live with the mortification of her teasing, if it meant he might be able to get close to her again, and in doing so perhaps even do something about the subject of her mockery.
"Now, if you don't mind." Ginny looked pointedly towards the doorway leading outside.
"As a matter of a fact, I do mind," Draco drawled slowly.
"Malfoy!" The death-threat in her tone was unmistakable.
"It's not like I haven't—" Draco paused to look her up and down predatorily. "—seen it all before."
"Because you've barged into the change rooms uninvited!"
"A mere technicality, Weasley."
"A technicality that could land you in detention until hell freezes over," Ginny pointed out smugly.
"Only if someone finds out."
"I might be tempted to—"
"All right, I'll turn around."
"No, you'll give me my wand and disappear."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Weasley."
"Why would that be, Malfoy?"
"Like I said last night, you're in desperate need of some revision, and it would be remiss of me to ignore that fact."
"There is nothing wrong—"
"Au contraire." Draco stepped closer to her again. He was mere feet from her now, and the urge to reach out and touch her was making his fingers twitch. "I feel you do need some revision," he whispered thickly.
"What makes you think you're the one who should give it to me?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, I have had a lot of practice, and what you need is a man with experience."
"A man? Thanks for clearing that up, Malfoy. I'll make sure I go looking for one the first opportunity I get."
Draco gaped at her for just a second before fixing the redheaded witch with an icy glare.
"Did I say something wrong?" Ginny feigned ignorance. "Oh... oh! You meant you! But you're just a boy." She had to slap her hand over her mouth to stop from laughing aloud at the Slytherin, with the now deflated ego, in front of her.
Draco snarled in the back of his throat and closed the remaining feet between them in one large step. "I'll show you the difference, shall I?"
"That's not really necessary," Ginny said quickly, stepping away from the angry wizard.
"You can run, Weasley, but you can't hide," Draco teased, closing the gap again.
She cursed the state of her undress. If she was actually dressed, she could have kicked him where it was guaranteed to stop any persistent wizard and escaped, but to risk such a move with only a towel around her would have not only left her exposed, it would have been silly. Instead, Ginny pushed off his chest hard and turned towards the door. She wasn't truly surprised when she only made it a few steps before she felt his arm snake around her waist and pulled her into his chest.
"Where do you think you're going?" Draco whispered into her ear.
"Let me go!" Ginny cringed when she heard how weak her voice sounded. All she could do was hope that he wasn’t perceptive enough to read anything into the tone she'd used, because it most definitely said, 'don't let me go'.
"I don't think you really want me to."
Ginny willed herself not to react to his breath puffing against her neck, but she couldn't help it; gooseflesh rose in its wake, making her feel delightfully giddy. If that wasn't enough, she found herself rather liking the way his strong, muscular arm held her against his hard chest. When she started to remember what his lips felt like on hers, she lost all sense of propriety.
Draco loosened his grasp on her just a little when she started to turn in his arms. Something told him this wasn't a bid for freedom, or a ploy to facilitate her escape. Her eyes were like windows to her soul, and he knew what she wanted by taking the briefest of glances.
As his mouth descended on hers, Ginny's eyes fluttered closed. Like the night before, she melted into his chest and her brain ceased to function, except to recognize just how good a kisser Draco Malfoy was. She could feel his hands wandering over the towel covering her body, and winding through her hair. Before she realized what was happening, his tongue was exploring her mouth with such skill that her knees went weak. If he were to step away from her now, she'd more than likely land on her nose on the floor.
She tasted faintly of mint and chocolate, so sweet he could have dined on her mouth forever. Her hands eventually gave up their purchase on the top of the towel and began to inch their way across his chest. The tingling trail they left served only to make his brain more dysfunctional, but at least it silenced the nagging voice in the back of his head that was insisting this was not a good choice. As soon as Draco felt her hands spread over his back, he allowed one of his hands to drift down to her derriere and pull her flush against his body.
Ginny gasped into his mouth when she felt the hard bulge of his pants through the towel. It wasn't that she didn't know it was there, because it was she who pointed it out earlier, she'd simply never been so close to an excited man before, and the way he felt surprised her. When his fingers started massaging her backside, all thoughts of what his body was doing floated out the window. Ginny knew the towel covering her modesty must have been riding up with his attentions, but she found she didn't much care, so long as that delicious feeling between her thighs didn't disappear.
With reluctance, Draco began to draw his mouth away. Air was becoming an issue for him, and he'd been accused of being able to breathe through his ears in the past, so he figured it would be the same for her. He placed almost imperceptible kisses over her face in an effort to maintain contact with this girl who was making his thoughts go down paths they'd always avoided before. "I think you could do with some more practice, Weasley. Just to perfect what we've gone over today. I suggest meeting at least once a day."
"Once a day?"
"Yes, and just so you know, I only take on one student at a time." Draco placed a feathery kiss on her forehead.
"What are you saying?" Ginny asked cautiously.
"Let me put it this way: I'd hate to have to waste hours in detention for discouraging anyone else who felt the need to touch you."
"I see." Ginny smirked, catching on to what he was requesting in a roundabout way. "Well, you are aware that I don't like any witch even glancing at what's mine."
"I can't stop them looking, but I can bat them away when they try to touch," Draco offered.
Ginny thought for a moment. "All right, but if any one person is persistent I want to hear about her from you."
"I can accommodate that wish."
"Good, because the alternative is to remove your reason for being looked at." Ginny glanced down to where his erection was prodding her insistently.
"Yes, well—" Draco swallowed hard and slapped himself mentally. What was he getting himself into here? She was not only a Weasley, she was decidedly scary to boot.
Yesterday he'd been quite happy with his life: sowing his wild oats in as many fields as possible, without a care in the world. Now he was not only considering seeing one witch exclusively, it actually made him feel good to be thinking along those lines. All it had taken was one glimpse of her creamy flesh to comprehensively befuddle his mind. Powerless to put a stop to the compulsion to be with her, all he could do was go along for the ride and hope he survived, or that someone identified the fact that he'd gone nutters and admitted him to ward forty-nine at St. Mungo's for urgently needed treatment.
"So, are we going to tell anyone or are we going to slink around in the shadows?"
When she smiled at him all his doubts evaporated. He might not be planning to make any loud declarations from the Astronomy Tower or have designs on making a grand announcement in the Great Hall, but he didn't want to have to sneak around. Yes, something told him she was worth the trouble they were likely to encounter. That was as long as he survived her brothers finding out.
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills!
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