When she ignores you… give her your attention.”
After a trip to America, Ginny had found her guilty pleasure. To most, her guilty pleasure would be considered way worse than merely reading gossip rags or dipping into her chocolate stash routinely. Ginny’s guiltiest pleasure was country music.
“Man, I feel like a woman,” she sang off-key, while picking up another picture frame and jumping around her apartment.
The music was so loud Ginny never heard the knock at the door. Nor did she hear anything when the door clicked open.
**
He really did not want to be that guy. That guy was the needy one that women always laughed about with their friends. Draco Malfoy had prided himself on never being talked about like that. However, after one date with a redhead, he was a convert.
She had been working nights at the hospital, whereas he had been working days. They hadn’t crossed paths except for the occasional greeting as they passed each other in opposite directions.
It confused him greatly that she hadn’t called him yet, or even mentioned their previous date. He wanted more from her, and he assumed that was willing to give it to him. Did I misjudge our date that night, he questioned himself over and over.
He had to know what went wrong. Before he knew what he was doing, his feet took off, leaving his logic behind, trying to catch up.
**
Ginny could have sworn she heard someone say her name. It freaked her out so much, she almost dropped the picture she was wrapping in newspaper. Get a grip on yourself, she chided.
“You’re leaving?” she heard a voice ask.
She spun around on her heel and let out a squeak of surprise.
“Draco,” she exhaled, relieved.
“You thought it would be…?” he trailed off with a smirk on his face.
“No one, no one. What brings you here, inside my house, without knocking?” she asked levelly.
“Au contraire, mon amour, I knocked. No one answered. I heard the music inside, found the door open, and decided to let myself in,” he answered obviously.
“Oh,” was all she could muster.
“So, you’re leaving?” he asked again.
“Moving up,” she answered, motioning him to hand her the picture next to him. “I don’t have to live like I’m impoverished anymore, now that I actually receive a paycheck as a Resident Healer.”
“They make spells for packing, you know. All you need is magic and a swish of the wand and you’re done,” he informed her, dodging the pillow she threw at his head.
“Of course I know that, you dolt. I prefer to pack the Muggle way. It forces you to get address the junk that you never ever use,” she said, tossing out an old newspaper.
“Ah,” he said, pretending he completely understood.
**
While he was glad to hear that she wasn’t leaving for some remote place like the South Pole, he hadn’t yet asked her his question, the entire reason in which he came to her apartment.
Luckily, Ginny pushed him in front of the moving train, forcing him to own up.
“Draco, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” she asked, laughing silently as she watched him snap out of his thoughts.
“Oh, right. Well, I just wanted to know, I was just wondering if,” he stammered. Even he was laughing at himself.
“Yes?” she prompted.
With every second that passed, he felt more and more uncomfortable. It’s like a band-aid, he told himself, it’ll hurt like hell, so rip it off fast.
“Didn’t you have a good time on our date a few weeks ago?” he blurted.
Ginny bit her lower lip, suppressing a grin.
“Yes, I had a good time on our date,” she agreed.
“Then why haven’t you said anything to me since then?” he asked, confusion in his eyes.
“I didn’t want to seem desperate, which you apparently have no problem with,” she jested.
And there it was. It had happened. He was that guy.
**
Ginny hadn’t meant to offend him. She definitely hadn’t meant to hurt him. However, as she watched a flash of hurt cross his eyes, disappearing with a blink, she realized she had done just that.
“Fiddlesticks,” she muttered under her breath, so quietly Draco had to strain his ears to hear.
“What was that?” he questioned, amused.
“Fiddlesticks,” she repeated. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just joking,” she informed him apologetically. "You really aren't that guy," she added with a meaningful look.
“Of course, I'm not," he told her, exuding confidence he didn't have. "It's water under the bridge,” he told her, with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Is that so?” she asked.
“It is. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” he told her.
“I think I can do that,” she told him. “How about you help me finish packing, then I’ll order a pizza.”
“I hope you don’t think that that will qualify as your making it up to me,” he said cheekily.
“Of course not,” she muttered sarcastically.
**
“What is this?” Draco asked, eying the piece of pizza on his plate suspiciously.
“What do you mean? That’s the best slice of pizza in all of London,” she informed him, aghast. “Don’t tell me that you haven’t had pizza before,” she added.
“All right, I won’t tell you,” he said as he picked up his fork, stabbing his slice with it.
“I can assure you it’s dead,” she told him, smiling. “Look, you eat it with your hands.”
She picked up her own slice of pizza, folded it in half, and took a bite much larger then what he figured she could rightly fit in her mouth.
He continued to eye the pizza, as if it might attack him.
“I thought you said that you could feed yourself,” she stated, eyebrows raised mockingly.
Without bothering to ask, he picked up his slice, folded it just as she had, and took a bite. Then he felt something warm and somewhat slimy moving down his trouser leg. He jumped off, wiping frantically at his leg, trying to get off whatever insect was climbing on him.
**
Ginny was laughing so hard, she couldn’t even get out the words to tell him that he had just dribbled sauce on his trousers, and that he was not, in fact, being attacked by any insects.
“What is so funny?” he asked, still jumping around sporadically.
“You just got sauce on your trousers,” she pointed the spot out, “Nothing’s crawling on your legs.”
“Right, I knew that,” he said half-heartedly. He furrowed his eyebrows and said as an afterthought, “These were my favorite trousers.”
She picked up her wand and muttered a cleaning spell before he even had thought of it.
“Right, thanks for that,” he told her.
“No problem, Draco. Want to try again with the pizza?” she asked.
“I suppose so,” he answered unenthused.
“Here, we’ll put a napkin on your lap, to prevent any further damage,” she said, patting the napkin into place.
She practically jumped away from him when she heard him moan deep in his throat.
“Merlin, Draco! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to,” she said quickly, clearly flustered, color rising to her cheeks.
“Don’t be,” he told her. He kept his eyes closed, however, and concentrated on regulating his body for a moment before picking up the slice of pizza again.
They watched the rest of the quidditch game on Ginny’s tiny Wiz-vision, a recently developed wizard equivalent of Muggle television, with no more incidents. Draco was glad, as he didn’t think he’d be able to take another one.
After a trip to America, Ginny had found her guilty pleasure. To most, her guilty pleasure would be considered way worse than merely reading gossip rags or dipping into her chocolate stash routinely. Ginny’s guiltiest pleasure was country music.
“Man, I feel like a woman,” she sang off-key, while picking up another picture frame and jumping around her apartment.
The music was so loud Ginny never heard the knock at the door. Nor did she hear anything when the door clicked open.
**
He really did not want to be that guy. That guy was the needy one that women always laughed about with their friends. Draco Malfoy had prided himself on never being talked about like that. However, after one date with a redhead, he was a convert.
She had been working nights at the hospital, whereas he had been working days. They hadn’t crossed paths except for the occasional greeting as they passed each other in opposite directions.
It confused him greatly that she hadn’t called him yet, or even mentioned their previous date. He wanted more from her, and he assumed that was willing to give it to him. Did I misjudge our date that night, he questioned himself over and over.
He had to know what went wrong. Before he knew what he was doing, his feet took off, leaving his logic behind, trying to catch up.
**
Ginny could have sworn she heard someone say her name. It freaked her out so much, she almost dropped the picture she was wrapping in newspaper. Get a grip on yourself, she chided.
“You’re leaving?” she heard a voice ask.
She spun around on her heel and let out a squeak of surprise.
“Draco,” she exhaled, relieved.
“You thought it would be…?” he trailed off with a smirk on his face.
“No one, no one. What brings you here, inside my house, without knocking?” she asked levelly.
“Au contraire, mon amour, I knocked. No one answered. I heard the music inside, found the door open, and decided to let myself in,” he answered obviously.
“Oh,” was all she could muster.
“So, you’re leaving?” he asked again.
“Moving up,” she answered, motioning him to hand her the picture next to him. “I don’t have to live like I’m impoverished anymore, now that I actually receive a paycheck as a Resident Healer.”
“They make spells for packing, you know. All you need is magic and a swish of the wand and you’re done,” he informed her, dodging the pillow she threw at his head.
“Of course I know that, you dolt. I prefer to pack the Muggle way. It forces you to get address the junk that you never ever use,” she said, tossing out an old newspaper.
“Ah,” he said, pretending he completely understood.
**
While he was glad to hear that she wasn’t leaving for some remote place like the South Pole, he hadn’t yet asked her his question, the entire reason in which he came to her apartment.
Luckily, Ginny pushed him in front of the moving train, forcing him to own up.
“Draco, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” she asked, laughing silently as she watched him snap out of his thoughts.
“Oh, right. Well, I just wanted to know, I was just wondering if,” he stammered. Even he was laughing at himself.
“Yes?” she prompted.
With every second that passed, he felt more and more uncomfortable. It’s like a band-aid, he told himself, it’ll hurt like hell, so rip it off fast.
“Didn’t you have a good time on our date a few weeks ago?” he blurted.
Ginny bit her lower lip, suppressing a grin.
“Yes, I had a good time on our date,” she agreed.
“Then why haven’t you said anything to me since then?” he asked, confusion in his eyes.
“I didn’t want to seem desperate, which you apparently have no problem with,” she jested.
And there it was. It had happened. He was that guy.
**
Ginny hadn’t meant to offend him. She definitely hadn’t meant to hurt him. However, as she watched a flash of hurt cross his eyes, disappearing with a blink, she realized she had done just that.
“Fiddlesticks,” she muttered under her breath, so quietly Draco had to strain his ears to hear.
“What was that?” he questioned, amused.
“Fiddlesticks,” she repeated. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just joking,” she informed him apologetically. "You really aren't that guy," she added with a meaningful look.
“Of course, I'm not," he told her, exuding confidence he didn't have. "It's water under the bridge,” he told her, with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Is that so?” she asked.
“It is. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” he told her.
“I think I can do that,” she told him. “How about you help me finish packing, then I’ll order a pizza.”
“I hope you don’t think that that will qualify as your making it up to me,” he said cheekily.
“Of course not,” she muttered sarcastically.
**
“What is this?” Draco asked, eying the piece of pizza on his plate suspiciously.
“What do you mean? That’s the best slice of pizza in all of London,” she informed him, aghast. “Don’t tell me that you haven’t had pizza before,” she added.
“All right, I won’t tell you,” he said as he picked up his fork, stabbing his slice with it.
“I can assure you it’s dead,” she told him, smiling. “Look, you eat it with your hands.”
She picked up her own slice of pizza, folded it in half, and took a bite much larger then what he figured she could rightly fit in her mouth.
He continued to eye the pizza, as if it might attack him.
“I thought you said that you could feed yourself,” she stated, eyebrows raised mockingly.
Without bothering to ask, he picked up his slice, folded it just as she had, and took a bite. Then he felt something warm and somewhat slimy moving down his trouser leg. He jumped off, wiping frantically at his leg, trying to get off whatever insect was climbing on him.
**
Ginny was laughing so hard, she couldn’t even get out the words to tell him that he had just dribbled sauce on his trousers, and that he was not, in fact, being attacked by any insects.
“What is so funny?” he asked, still jumping around sporadically.
“You just got sauce on your trousers,” she pointed the spot out, “Nothing’s crawling on your legs.”
“Right, I knew that,” he said half-heartedly. He furrowed his eyebrows and said as an afterthought, “These were my favorite trousers.”
She picked up her wand and muttered a cleaning spell before he even had thought of it.
“Right, thanks for that,” he told her.
“No problem, Draco. Want to try again with the pizza?” she asked.
“I suppose so,” he answered unenthused.
“Here, we’ll put a napkin on your lap, to prevent any further damage,” she said, patting the napkin into place.
She practically jumped away from him when she heard him moan deep in his throat.
“Merlin, Draco! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to,” she said quickly, clearly flustered, color rising to her cheeks.
“Don’t be,” he told her. He kept his eyes closed, however, and concentrated on regulating his body for a moment before picking up the slice of pizza again.
They watched the rest of the quidditch game on Ginny’s tiny Wiz-vision, a recently developed wizard equivalent of Muggle television, with no more incidents. Draco was glad, as he didn’t think he’d be able to take another one.
Author notes: I hope you guys enjoyed it!!
Thanks for all of your awesome reviews! You guys rock!
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