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Disclaimer: JKR is the legal master of the Harry Potter universe. I am just having a little fun.
A/N: Alright, this was supposed to be all romantic, but I found that it didn’t really turn out that way. I think that for this complex pairing, it takes more than a one-shot to make them do anything besides hate each other. And no, I don’t want to add anymore. I like it just as it is, without a plotline for me to worry about. If anything, this story kind of illustrates of what their first impression would be, and nothing more. I tried to stay in character, please tell me if I did a good job or not. I’m a little worried about it, because this is my first DG fic. Oh, and it's in the action genre because Ginny hits him a lot. Probably not your typical action fic, but I couldn't think of another genre that fit it more. Ah well.
Detention Full of Disdain
by remedios
Ginny Weasley was normally a well-behaved girl. She willingly did whatever her parents, professors and elders asked of her. However, the drive of obedience and respecting others usually collided with the stubborn idea of justice, especially when it came to a cocky Slytherin.
This was why she was residing in detention, huffing hair out of her face because of it’s annoying habit to follow the law of gravity. She sat at a desk, with nothing but her imagination to dwindle the hours away. It seemed that the school had nothing for them to do, (surprisingly enough), and had condemned them into a locked classroom.
Her eyes shifted up to the only other person in detention with her, the devil himself. He presently had a snarl on his face, staring at her with an unpleasant expression.
“This is all your fault, Weasley.”
She huffed more hair out of her face, saying blankly, “Well, we wouldn’t be here if you could get over the habit of being disrespectful.”
The devil’s mind wandered back to the event in which he called Hermione Granger a mudblood, causing Ginny to spark into the ol’ classic Weasley righteousness and hex him with a melting spell, something much like the Wicked Witch of the West did in that one muggle movie. Of course, he would never admit to the fact that he had a secret stash of muggle movies hidden in the depths of his room. He sometimes would smirk unknowingly, thinking of how muggle movies were a lot like crack -- you can’t stop when you start and you gotta do some much major sick crap in order to attain them, especially when your father was as much of a lunatic as his was.
He pointed out, “I believe it was you who did the hexing.”
“You got what was coming,” she snapped, giving him another of her angry glares.
He scoffed, looking at the blackboard with a grumble penetrating from his lips. Suddenly he felt a little mischievous, eyeing the Weasley girl. Her legs were sprawled over the desk, leaning back with her head hanging off the chair. Extremely unladylike. Well, if he was going to be stuck in the same room with this Muggle-lover, he might as well have some fun.
“Is your family uncivilized enough to not teach you how to sit properly?” he asked with a smug look.
She glanced at him blankly over her shoes, reading the look on his face. She rolled her eyes, knowing his true motivations -- to treat her as any pompous git would. She shifted in her seat, now leaning back comfortably in the chair giving Malfoy an indifferent look. “At least my family is more civilized than yours when it comes to human rights.”
He dramatically held a hand to his chest, whining with a fake cry, “Oh Weasley, I’m hurt.”
She pulled a piece of gum out of her pockets, muttering, “That‘s too bad, since I‘m not sorry.” She popped the gum into her mouth, chewing on it obnoxiously, drilling holes into her arch nemesis’ gray eyes.
Draco had to admit, he was a little taken back the Weasley girl’s words. Unlike her brothers -- no, more like her whole family -- she was unfazed by anything he said to her. It was surprising to see this fifteen year old red head make intolerable smacking noises with her gum, staring at him impassively, a feat only done by, well, no one.
“The Weasley girl’s got guts!” he said with a sneer.
“Indeedy-doo,” she replied quickly. To add to the effect, she blew a bubble from her mouth letting it pop and explode all over her face. She picked it off her face greedily, plopping it back inside her lips.
Malfoy couldn’t help but let out a grunt of disgust. Didn’t this woman have any dignity?
She smiled, then got up from her desk. “Well, since the only entertainment you’ll give me is dull annoyance, I’m going to venture around in the room and see if there’s anything fun.” She waddled off to the cabinets, contending to take out anything she found interesting and pick it apart.
Ginny felt a wave of pride bounce in her stomach. She avoided the git from getting on her case! It helped to know how to control your anger, she thought to herself. It was something she learned from living in a household of boys, a way of keeping her sanity while they tried frivolously to piss her off. Of course, her brothers knew her a lot better than Draco Malfoy, and knew how to get past her vacant façade -- which was to steal one of her treasured dolls and threaten to give it horns if she didn’t pay attention.
“Weasley.”
She turned around on hearing her name. Malfoy was glaring down at her with a look of contempt, his arms crossed.
She shook her head, “Now now, Malfoy, you know you can’t move from your chair until the professors come back.”
He narrowed his eyes, “You moved.”
She looking down on the floor guiltily. “I suppose I did,” she then shrugged, “Oh well.” She motioned her body back to the cabinet, unearthing a few old cauldrons.
“You’ve got some nerve, Weasley.”
She looked up after placing a cauldron on her head as if donning a helmet. “Why yes, Malfoy. You have nerves too. You see, the nerves in your body send impulses to your brain so you can move and feel pain..”
“You called me a dull annoyance, Weasley,” he said more firmly, a nerve throbbing on his forehead.
She looked up at him, agreeing with a nod, “Well, that’s because you are.”
Before she could take out another old cauldron, he grabbed her by the arms, whisking her onto her feet, the cauldron on her head flying off by the sudden force. Her eyes widened, as she could now tell she was face to face with the proud Draco Malfoy, his face forming into his trade-mark smirk. “Tell me, Weasley girl,” he said softly, his breath tickling her face, “Do you find this a dull annoyance?” He leaned forward, his lips almost brushing hers, when Ginny was suddenly snapped back to reality. With a yelp and a blush slapping onto her cheeks, she pushed him off of her.
“Merlin! What in the bloody hell were you thinking?!”
He held the smirk and replied contently, “Showing you I’m not a dull annoyance.”
She picked up the cauldron that had fallen off and placed it back firmly on her head. “Yes. Now you’re just a lecherous annoyance.”
“Better than being dull,” he replied, still having that look of triumph.
She cocked an eyebrow beneath her cauldron. “Does the flawless and inscrutable Draco Malfoy get touchy at the word ‘dull’?
He passed a glance at her, his smirk getting wider, “Does the stubborn and jovial Ginny Weasley like to wear cauldrons on her head?”
She stood up, as an attempt to look at him at the same level. However, this was difficult since he was about six inches taller than her. “It was a futile attempt to block out any words you say.”
He laughed icily, “Are you really that stupid, Weasley?”
“Maybe the vibes you give off are getting to me,” she answered saucily, burrowing her hand back into the cabinet for anything else interesting. She had reached so deep in fact, her prized cauldron had fallen off. Finally, her fingers pried out something that she deemed fascinating, causing her to give out a delighted squeal. “It’s a bouncy ball!” she cheered. She stood right up, and ran to a corner of the room and began to play with it.
Draco’s eyebrow arched, watching at the once furious young woman now look like a little girl, laughing giddily as she bounced the ball up and down. One second she’s frowning at him in irritation, the next she’s jumping around happily because she found a flimsy piece of rubber. Her shrieks of laughter drilled into his ears. After hearing another screech that was a few octaves too high for him to handle, he grabbed it from the air and pocketed it.
“Weasley, your voice is annoying enough, having you screech into my ears is going to give me a seizure!” he yelled into the redhead’s shocked face. He turned away from her, muttering to himself, “Bloody Christ.”
“Excuse me if some people like to have fun.” She flopped down into a chair, whining, “You have to ruin everything, don’t you?”
He cocked an eyebrow, another smirk stretching across his face, “You ruined that perfect moment we had earlier.”
The neck on her hair raised. “What, you thought that detention would fly by if you got a quick shagging session?”
“No, I just thought that it would be nice to scare you out of your wits.”
Her glare hardened, “Damn right it did! The thought of being even remotely intimate to you is downright repulsing.”
He replied calmly. “That’s good news, because I feel the exact same way about you.”
She snapped back, “Well, that’s just dandy. How about we just ignore each other for the rest of this torture to make it more pleasant than, hmm?” With that, she grabbed a random book from a shelf entitled, The Fascinating Lives of Goblins.
He crossed his arms, somehow feeling offended. Sure, he was inclined to keep to his previous statement, but the fact that that book was more amusing than he himself was quite the insult. He sighed exasperatedly, sitting himself down on a chair, preparing to take a quick nap. However, before he could even find himself sailing on fluffy clouds and speak to the random talking lamps he found in his dreams, a soft and thoughtful voice penetrated his ears.
“Why’d you call her that, anyway?”
He sighed indignantly, “Weasley, didn’t you just confirm that we weren’t on speaking terms?”
She slammed her book shut, letting out a small huff. “I know, but we can resume that after you answer my question.”
He rubbed his eyes annoyed, “I don’t see why it’s so important.”
“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“No, actually, the reason we’re here is because you decided to hex me. The day would have slid by like it normally does if you didn’t have to get all touchy about it.”
“Touchy?!” she shrieked. She stood up suddenly. The book fell off her lap, banging into the ground hard and loud. She raced over to him, looking at him defiantly. “Anyone would get touchy if someone they cared about was called such a horrible word! Do you think Hermione’s days slide by normally when you call her those things?”
He stared up at her apprehensively, now finally opening his eyes. He said, as calm as he could, “Well, I do call her a filthy mudblood whenever I get the chance to. Considering that, I would say it’s normal.”
Suddenly, Ginny’s face lit up. A raging energy raced into her hand. Before she could stop herself, her fist had made a collision into Malfoy’s face.
“YOU FUCKING HIT ME!” he bellowed angrily, reaching up to his throbbing cheek.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a sarcastic tone, “Did I ruin Draco Malfoy’s perfect face? Looks like you can’t seduce girls anymore. Dear me. Not that you were any good at it in the first place.”
He raised from his chair, feeling fury rise up and settle in his throat. He knocked down his chair and a couple of desks, causing them to fling across the room. He wanted to encircle his hands around her skinny neck, but stopped himself remembering the special treatment his mother had taught him to give to women. It was some sort of habit, and now he damned his mother for making him learn it. “Weasley-!” he started, “You bloody wake me up and ask me to answer a stupid question! Then, when I answer truthfully, you fucking hit me!”
Instead of seeing the look of fear he had been expecting, she held an expression of sadness and anger. “You know, Malfoy, I really don’t know how you learned to think all those terrible things.. but I can tell you now that I really pity you. You’ll always have hate in your heart.” She frowned slightly, slipping back into her chair and placing the book back on top of her legs.
“Take it any way you want, Weasley. But I can tell you now, I don’t need your pity.. or your punches,” he said sharply, still rubbing the sore spot on his cheek.
For awhile they remained quiet, both of them silently fuming to themselves. Ginny was still as mad as ever, her mind incessantly wandering back to the careless and cruel words that he spoke regarding Hermione. How could he say such things? Didn’t he have any compassion? Then she felt like slapping herself. Why was she even thinking about this? The only answer to this question was because he was a Malfoy. And somehow, being a Malfoy, made him obligated to act like that and have no emotions. She frowned, suddenly feeling empty. She couldn’t accept the fact that someone could be as shallow as him. Could it really be possible for a young boy to be numb to, well, everything?
Then her mind wandered to something that she had thought she had blocked out years ago. Oh, that. Yes, it was possible for a young boy to be numb to everything. A possessed diary was proof of that.
She felt like slapping herself again. Why, oh why, oh why was she trying to make him seem like a better person? What was she baiting herself for? As far as she could think of, there wasn’t one thing that he had ever done that was a kind act. Everything was for him and himself only. But she couldn’t get rid of that nagging thought that for this he must have been a sad and lonely person, and she couldn’t bring herself to personify him as evil and ugly. She couldn’t do it.
The words of the book Ginny was trying to read seemed to have blurred because of her lack of concentration, and she felt as if the picture of the goblin holding money was mocking her. It reminded her too much of Malfoy, which made her start to laugh. It was humorous to think of how the goblin and Malfoy looked so much alike.
Draco’s ears perked up at the sound of her rampant giggles, seeing her almost falling off the chair. A wave of irritation stroke him at this. “Weasley, we agreed to leave each other alone. Your laughing is cutting into the deal.”
Ginny struggled herself up on the chair, giggles still escaping from her lips. “Sorry, it’s just..” she broke off into more laughter, and again had lost control. However, after a few minutes she realized she wasn’t making any sound. She paused, and looked up at Malfoy who was sitting there with his wand in his hand, a look of annoyance crossing his face.
“Are we done now?” he asked with a trace of malice.
She nodded, still a broad grin on her face. He sighed, rolling his eyes and swished his wand as he whispered the spell. As soon as he did this, she sat quickly on the chair, still a smile on the face, and was skimming through the book.
Draco felt another aggravated emotion rise him, but he struggled to suppress it as he did with any other emotion. How could she be so cheerful after that row they just had? Was she insane? Usually it was easy for Draco to figure out people, but the rapid mood swings of this girl sent his head spinning. First he hits him, then shows an act of pity, and then starts laughing! Oh, and it was a real riot on how she pitied him because he’ll ‘always have hate in his heart’. A smirk reached his lips at this thought. Who did she think she was to try to make him feel bad for calling the Mudblood names? Mother Theresa? It was funny that she even tried, because as anyone should know, it was useless to get any sense through a Malfoy.
And yet.. she was very interesting. She was spontaneous, and quick-witted with a hefty dose of that fiery temper of hers. It all added up very dangerous trouble in his mind. In fact, he felt that this detention was the most exciting part of.. well, this month. Everything spelled the same thing, from his father’s messages of “being on the lookout” to the way Crabbe and Goyle loomed over him and of course, how Potter got all the glory in everything he ever did. He gritted his teeth at this thought. But then, after his daily insults, abusing, and basically bringing down any trace of ego in sight, something unexpected happens. Weasel hexes him. It certainly made his day, no matter how annoyed he felt.
He yawned loudly, deciding that he was not going to succeed in his conquest for sleepiness, and looked up at the girl. Her red hair had surrounded her face, peering at the book, randomly turning pages. She seemed to be as unproductive as he was on her task. He sighed. If only they didn’t have that row.. but she did ask. It was like she was expecting him to lie. It only further confirmed his allegations that Weasley blood dropped any person’s IQ fifty points.
He walked across the room and took out the bouncy ball he had confiscated from her before. Then, without thinking, begin to bounce the ball up and down.
Suddenly, he realized that the ball wasn’t coming back up. He stared at the spot curiously. Where did it go..? His question was answered when he heard a snigger, looked up and saw Weasley staring at him with a look of triumph.
“I can’t ignore you very well when you’re bouncing the ball so loud. So I’m afraid I’m going to have to take it from you,” she said, to his surprise, in a very Malfoyish way. She started to walk back to her seat, pocketing the ball just as he had before.
He felt infuriated. Once again, the thoughts of Who does she think she is? crossed his mind. Before he could rationalize a cunning way to retrieve the ball, his instincts took over him and his was now lunging at the Weasley girl for the ball.
Ginny landed on the ground with a surprised squeak, even more surprised to find Malfoy on top of her. She struggled to turn around. She began to curse, “What the he--” when she realized how close they really were.
“Oh, my” was all she say. Despite the contempt and now pity she felt for him, she couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. Maybe it was his good bone structure or his piercing gray eyes, but either way, he was very nice to look at.
He smirked on seeing her look of intrigue. “You know, Weasley, we could go back to that moment we had before.” His hands snaked into her pocket, retrieving the bouncy ball.
Feeling his hands in her clothes, Ginny broke out of her trance and shoved him off of her, finishing with a slap to his face. “Gladly,” she said, not caring that they were talking about a completely different ‘moment’.
He rubbed his cheek, unfazed as if he was expecting it, and instead held up the ball with an arrogant grin on his face. Upon seeing it, Ginny felt like giving out a scream. How dare he? How bloody --
Suddenly, the door opened featuring Professor McGonagall, lips pursed as if displeased at something. “Your detention is over. You both may leave.”
Ginny crawled off from the floor, still slightly ruffled. Draco only grunted with a nod and slid out of the room. Professor McGonagall rushed Ginny out, who was going a little slow, and finally closed the door.
Neither of the two spoke to each other after those dreaded hours of being confined together in a classroom until five years had passed, when Ginny had ran into him in a coffee shop. At that moment Ginny still felt an odd pity for him despite her scorn and Draco was still perplexed by her impulsive moods. Despite time, history repeated itself.
****
REVIEW, PLEASE! ^^
A/N: Alright, this was supposed to be all romantic, but I found that it didn’t really turn out that way. I think that for this complex pairing, it takes more than a one-shot to make them do anything besides hate each other. And no, I don’t want to add anymore. I like it just as it is, without a plotline for me to worry about. If anything, this story kind of illustrates of what their first impression would be, and nothing more. I tried to stay in character, please tell me if I did a good job or not. I’m a little worried about it, because this is my first DG fic. Oh, and it's in the action genre because Ginny hits him a lot. Probably not your typical action fic, but I couldn't think of another genre that fit it more. Ah well.
Detention Full of Disdain
by remedios
Ginny Weasley was normally a well-behaved girl. She willingly did whatever her parents, professors and elders asked of her. However, the drive of obedience and respecting others usually collided with the stubborn idea of justice, especially when it came to a cocky Slytherin.
This was why she was residing in detention, huffing hair out of her face because of it’s annoying habit to follow the law of gravity. She sat at a desk, with nothing but her imagination to dwindle the hours away. It seemed that the school had nothing for them to do, (surprisingly enough), and had condemned them into a locked classroom.
Her eyes shifted up to the only other person in detention with her, the devil himself. He presently had a snarl on his face, staring at her with an unpleasant expression.
“This is all your fault, Weasley.”
She huffed more hair out of her face, saying blankly, “Well, we wouldn’t be here if you could get over the habit of being disrespectful.”
The devil’s mind wandered back to the event in which he called Hermione Granger a mudblood, causing Ginny to spark into the ol’ classic Weasley righteousness and hex him with a melting spell, something much like the Wicked Witch of the West did in that one muggle movie. Of course, he would never admit to the fact that he had a secret stash of muggle movies hidden in the depths of his room. He sometimes would smirk unknowingly, thinking of how muggle movies were a lot like crack -- you can’t stop when you start and you gotta do some much major sick crap in order to attain them, especially when your father was as much of a lunatic as his was.
He pointed out, “I believe it was you who did the hexing.”
“You got what was coming,” she snapped, giving him another of her angry glares.
He scoffed, looking at the blackboard with a grumble penetrating from his lips. Suddenly he felt a little mischievous, eyeing the Weasley girl. Her legs were sprawled over the desk, leaning back with her head hanging off the chair. Extremely unladylike. Well, if he was going to be stuck in the same room with this Muggle-lover, he might as well have some fun.
“Is your family uncivilized enough to not teach you how to sit properly?” he asked with a smug look.
She glanced at him blankly over her shoes, reading the look on his face. She rolled her eyes, knowing his true motivations -- to treat her as any pompous git would. She shifted in her seat, now leaning back comfortably in the chair giving Malfoy an indifferent look. “At least my family is more civilized than yours when it comes to human rights.”
He dramatically held a hand to his chest, whining with a fake cry, “Oh Weasley, I’m hurt.”
She pulled a piece of gum out of her pockets, muttering, “That‘s too bad, since I‘m not sorry.” She popped the gum into her mouth, chewing on it obnoxiously, drilling holes into her arch nemesis’ gray eyes.
Draco had to admit, he was a little taken back the Weasley girl’s words. Unlike her brothers -- no, more like her whole family -- she was unfazed by anything he said to her. It was surprising to see this fifteen year old red head make intolerable smacking noises with her gum, staring at him impassively, a feat only done by, well, no one.
“The Weasley girl’s got guts!” he said with a sneer.
“Indeedy-doo,” she replied quickly. To add to the effect, she blew a bubble from her mouth letting it pop and explode all over her face. She picked it off her face greedily, plopping it back inside her lips.
Malfoy couldn’t help but let out a grunt of disgust. Didn’t this woman have any dignity?
She smiled, then got up from her desk. “Well, since the only entertainment you’ll give me is dull annoyance, I’m going to venture around in the room and see if there’s anything fun.” She waddled off to the cabinets, contending to take out anything she found interesting and pick it apart.
Ginny felt a wave of pride bounce in her stomach. She avoided the git from getting on her case! It helped to know how to control your anger, she thought to herself. It was something she learned from living in a household of boys, a way of keeping her sanity while they tried frivolously to piss her off. Of course, her brothers knew her a lot better than Draco Malfoy, and knew how to get past her vacant façade -- which was to steal one of her treasured dolls and threaten to give it horns if she didn’t pay attention.
“Weasley.”
She turned around on hearing her name. Malfoy was glaring down at her with a look of contempt, his arms crossed.
She shook her head, “Now now, Malfoy, you know you can’t move from your chair until the professors come back.”
He narrowed his eyes, “You moved.”
She looking down on the floor guiltily. “I suppose I did,” she then shrugged, “Oh well.” She motioned her body back to the cabinet, unearthing a few old cauldrons.
“You’ve got some nerve, Weasley.”
She looked up after placing a cauldron on her head as if donning a helmet. “Why yes, Malfoy. You have nerves too. You see, the nerves in your body send impulses to your brain so you can move and feel pain..”
“You called me a dull annoyance, Weasley,” he said more firmly, a nerve throbbing on his forehead.
She looked up at him, agreeing with a nod, “Well, that’s because you are.”
Before she could take out another old cauldron, he grabbed her by the arms, whisking her onto her feet, the cauldron on her head flying off by the sudden force. Her eyes widened, as she could now tell she was face to face with the proud Draco Malfoy, his face forming into his trade-mark smirk. “Tell me, Weasley girl,” he said softly, his breath tickling her face, “Do you find this a dull annoyance?” He leaned forward, his lips almost brushing hers, when Ginny was suddenly snapped back to reality. With a yelp and a blush slapping onto her cheeks, she pushed him off of her.
“Merlin! What in the bloody hell were you thinking?!”
He held the smirk and replied contently, “Showing you I’m not a dull annoyance.”
She picked up the cauldron that had fallen off and placed it back firmly on her head. “Yes. Now you’re just a lecherous annoyance.”
“Better than being dull,” he replied, still having that look of triumph.
She cocked an eyebrow beneath her cauldron. “Does the flawless and inscrutable Draco Malfoy get touchy at the word ‘dull’?
He passed a glance at her, his smirk getting wider, “Does the stubborn and jovial Ginny Weasley like to wear cauldrons on her head?”
She stood up, as an attempt to look at him at the same level. However, this was difficult since he was about six inches taller than her. “It was a futile attempt to block out any words you say.”
He laughed icily, “Are you really that stupid, Weasley?”
“Maybe the vibes you give off are getting to me,” she answered saucily, burrowing her hand back into the cabinet for anything else interesting. She had reached so deep in fact, her prized cauldron had fallen off. Finally, her fingers pried out something that she deemed fascinating, causing her to give out a delighted squeal. “It’s a bouncy ball!” she cheered. She stood right up, and ran to a corner of the room and began to play with it.
Draco’s eyebrow arched, watching at the once furious young woman now look like a little girl, laughing giddily as she bounced the ball up and down. One second she’s frowning at him in irritation, the next she’s jumping around happily because she found a flimsy piece of rubber. Her shrieks of laughter drilled into his ears. After hearing another screech that was a few octaves too high for him to handle, he grabbed it from the air and pocketed it.
“Weasley, your voice is annoying enough, having you screech into my ears is going to give me a seizure!” he yelled into the redhead’s shocked face. He turned away from her, muttering to himself, “Bloody Christ.”
“Excuse me if some people like to have fun.” She flopped down into a chair, whining, “You have to ruin everything, don’t you?”
He cocked an eyebrow, another smirk stretching across his face, “You ruined that perfect moment we had earlier.”
The neck on her hair raised. “What, you thought that detention would fly by if you got a quick shagging session?”
“No, I just thought that it would be nice to scare you out of your wits.”
Her glare hardened, “Damn right it did! The thought of being even remotely intimate to you is downright repulsing.”
He replied calmly. “That’s good news, because I feel the exact same way about you.”
She snapped back, “Well, that’s just dandy. How about we just ignore each other for the rest of this torture to make it more pleasant than, hmm?” With that, she grabbed a random book from a shelf entitled, The Fascinating Lives of Goblins.
He crossed his arms, somehow feeling offended. Sure, he was inclined to keep to his previous statement, but the fact that that book was more amusing than he himself was quite the insult. He sighed exasperatedly, sitting himself down on a chair, preparing to take a quick nap. However, before he could even find himself sailing on fluffy clouds and speak to the random talking lamps he found in his dreams, a soft and thoughtful voice penetrated his ears.
“Why’d you call her that, anyway?”
He sighed indignantly, “Weasley, didn’t you just confirm that we weren’t on speaking terms?”
She slammed her book shut, letting out a small huff. “I know, but we can resume that after you answer my question.”
He rubbed his eyes annoyed, “I don’t see why it’s so important.”
“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“No, actually, the reason we’re here is because you decided to hex me. The day would have slid by like it normally does if you didn’t have to get all touchy about it.”
“Touchy?!” she shrieked. She stood up suddenly. The book fell off her lap, banging into the ground hard and loud. She raced over to him, looking at him defiantly. “Anyone would get touchy if someone they cared about was called such a horrible word! Do you think Hermione’s days slide by normally when you call her those things?”
He stared up at her apprehensively, now finally opening his eyes. He said, as calm as he could, “Well, I do call her a filthy mudblood whenever I get the chance to. Considering that, I would say it’s normal.”
Suddenly, Ginny’s face lit up. A raging energy raced into her hand. Before she could stop herself, her fist had made a collision into Malfoy’s face.
“YOU FUCKING HIT ME!” he bellowed angrily, reaching up to his throbbing cheek.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a sarcastic tone, “Did I ruin Draco Malfoy’s perfect face? Looks like you can’t seduce girls anymore. Dear me. Not that you were any good at it in the first place.”
He raised from his chair, feeling fury rise up and settle in his throat. He knocked down his chair and a couple of desks, causing them to fling across the room. He wanted to encircle his hands around her skinny neck, but stopped himself remembering the special treatment his mother had taught him to give to women. It was some sort of habit, and now he damned his mother for making him learn it. “Weasley-!” he started, “You bloody wake me up and ask me to answer a stupid question! Then, when I answer truthfully, you fucking hit me!”
Instead of seeing the look of fear he had been expecting, she held an expression of sadness and anger. “You know, Malfoy, I really don’t know how you learned to think all those terrible things.. but I can tell you now that I really pity you. You’ll always have hate in your heart.” She frowned slightly, slipping back into her chair and placing the book back on top of her legs.
“Take it any way you want, Weasley. But I can tell you now, I don’t need your pity.. or your punches,” he said sharply, still rubbing the sore spot on his cheek.
For awhile they remained quiet, both of them silently fuming to themselves. Ginny was still as mad as ever, her mind incessantly wandering back to the careless and cruel words that he spoke regarding Hermione. How could he say such things? Didn’t he have any compassion? Then she felt like slapping herself. Why was she even thinking about this? The only answer to this question was because he was a Malfoy. And somehow, being a Malfoy, made him obligated to act like that and have no emotions. She frowned, suddenly feeling empty. She couldn’t accept the fact that someone could be as shallow as him. Could it really be possible for a young boy to be numb to, well, everything?
Then her mind wandered to something that she had thought she had blocked out years ago. Oh, that. Yes, it was possible for a young boy to be numb to everything. A possessed diary was proof of that.
She felt like slapping herself again. Why, oh why, oh why was she trying to make him seem like a better person? What was she baiting herself for? As far as she could think of, there wasn’t one thing that he had ever done that was a kind act. Everything was for him and himself only. But she couldn’t get rid of that nagging thought that for this he must have been a sad and lonely person, and she couldn’t bring herself to personify him as evil and ugly. She couldn’t do it.
The words of the book Ginny was trying to read seemed to have blurred because of her lack of concentration, and she felt as if the picture of the goblin holding money was mocking her. It reminded her too much of Malfoy, which made her start to laugh. It was humorous to think of how the goblin and Malfoy looked so much alike.
Draco’s ears perked up at the sound of her rampant giggles, seeing her almost falling off the chair. A wave of irritation stroke him at this. “Weasley, we agreed to leave each other alone. Your laughing is cutting into the deal.”
Ginny struggled herself up on the chair, giggles still escaping from her lips. “Sorry, it’s just..” she broke off into more laughter, and again had lost control. However, after a few minutes she realized she wasn’t making any sound. She paused, and looked up at Malfoy who was sitting there with his wand in his hand, a look of annoyance crossing his face.
“Are we done now?” he asked with a trace of malice.
She nodded, still a broad grin on her face. He sighed, rolling his eyes and swished his wand as he whispered the spell. As soon as he did this, she sat quickly on the chair, still a smile on the face, and was skimming through the book.
Draco felt another aggravated emotion rise him, but he struggled to suppress it as he did with any other emotion. How could she be so cheerful after that row they just had? Was she insane? Usually it was easy for Draco to figure out people, but the rapid mood swings of this girl sent his head spinning. First he hits him, then shows an act of pity, and then starts laughing! Oh, and it was a real riot on how she pitied him because he’ll ‘always have hate in his heart’. A smirk reached his lips at this thought. Who did she think she was to try to make him feel bad for calling the Mudblood names? Mother Theresa? It was funny that she even tried, because as anyone should know, it was useless to get any sense through a Malfoy.
And yet.. she was very interesting. She was spontaneous, and quick-witted with a hefty dose of that fiery temper of hers. It all added up very dangerous trouble in his mind. In fact, he felt that this detention was the most exciting part of.. well, this month. Everything spelled the same thing, from his father’s messages of “being on the lookout” to the way Crabbe and Goyle loomed over him and of course, how Potter got all the glory in everything he ever did. He gritted his teeth at this thought. But then, after his daily insults, abusing, and basically bringing down any trace of ego in sight, something unexpected happens. Weasel hexes him. It certainly made his day, no matter how annoyed he felt.
He yawned loudly, deciding that he was not going to succeed in his conquest for sleepiness, and looked up at the girl. Her red hair had surrounded her face, peering at the book, randomly turning pages. She seemed to be as unproductive as he was on her task. He sighed. If only they didn’t have that row.. but she did ask. It was like she was expecting him to lie. It only further confirmed his allegations that Weasley blood dropped any person’s IQ fifty points.
He walked across the room and took out the bouncy ball he had confiscated from her before. Then, without thinking, begin to bounce the ball up and down.
Suddenly, he realized that the ball wasn’t coming back up. He stared at the spot curiously. Where did it go..? His question was answered when he heard a snigger, looked up and saw Weasley staring at him with a look of triumph.
“I can’t ignore you very well when you’re bouncing the ball so loud. So I’m afraid I’m going to have to take it from you,” she said, to his surprise, in a very Malfoyish way. She started to walk back to her seat, pocketing the ball just as he had before.
He felt infuriated. Once again, the thoughts of Who does she think she is? crossed his mind. Before he could rationalize a cunning way to retrieve the ball, his instincts took over him and his was now lunging at the Weasley girl for the ball.
Ginny landed on the ground with a surprised squeak, even more surprised to find Malfoy on top of her. She struggled to turn around. She began to curse, “What the he--” when she realized how close they really were.
“Oh, my” was all she say. Despite the contempt and now pity she felt for him, she couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. Maybe it was his good bone structure or his piercing gray eyes, but either way, he was very nice to look at.
He smirked on seeing her look of intrigue. “You know, Weasley, we could go back to that moment we had before.” His hands snaked into her pocket, retrieving the bouncy ball.
Feeling his hands in her clothes, Ginny broke out of her trance and shoved him off of her, finishing with a slap to his face. “Gladly,” she said, not caring that they were talking about a completely different ‘moment’.
He rubbed his cheek, unfazed as if he was expecting it, and instead held up the ball with an arrogant grin on his face. Upon seeing it, Ginny felt like giving out a scream. How dare he? How bloody --
Suddenly, the door opened featuring Professor McGonagall, lips pursed as if displeased at something. “Your detention is over. You both may leave.”
Ginny crawled off from the floor, still slightly ruffled. Draco only grunted with a nod and slid out of the room. Professor McGonagall rushed Ginny out, who was going a little slow, and finally closed the door.
Neither of the two spoke to each other after those dreaded hours of being confined together in a classroom until five years had passed, when Ginny had ran into him in a coffee shop. At that moment Ginny still felt an odd pity for him despite her scorn and Draco was still perplexed by her impulsive moods. Despite time, history repeated itself.
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To Be Continued.
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