Ginny joined her team for Quidditch practise the next evening with a heavy heart. The day had brought no new inspiration for her to escape from the fate Myrtle had predicted. Obviously, the gods were not interested in her bargains, and her sense of helplessness had not been aided by any of her friends either. Hermione thought that she was ridiculous for even feeling worried about a prophecy made by Myrtle, while Luna couldn't understand why she was so upset by the thought of having Draco Malfoy for her destiny in the first place. Harry found the whole situation amusing, and Ron had declared, though not very seriously, that if she did fall in love with Draco Malfoy, he would no longer consider her a member of his family.
Really, it was no wonder she was beginning to feel depressed. Her friends were supposed to be her support, yet they had all abandoned her to her fate and refused to see the seriousness of the situation. It was easy for them – they weren't the ones supposedly destined to bear Draco Malfoy's pink-haired children.
"What the hell are you doing, Ginny?" Harry yelled. "The Snitch just flew right past you!"
Ginny snapped out of her reverie and frantically tried to search for the glint of gold, but it had already vanished. She sighed, not even needing to be a Seer to know that she was about to receive an earful from Harry for her lapse. Just as she had predicted, Harry did indeed rant at her for daydreaming.
"It doesn't matter if this is just a practise," he cried fervently. "You have to act like this is the real thing! What if you start getting lost in your thoughts on Friday and Malfoy catches the Snitch before you?"
"I guess Slytherin will win the House Cup," Ginny replied dully.
She immediately regretted her choice of words as Harry went bright red with anger and started raving even more loudly at her. It was then that she saw the Slytherin Quidditch team stroll onto the pitch headed by the arrogant blond who was increasingly becoming the bane of her existence.
"Jerk alert!" one of the Gryffindor Beaters said loudly as he spotted the group of green-clad boys.
Ron landed beside Ginny and Harry. "Want us to get rid of them?"
"It's okay, Ron," Harry muttered. "I'll handle this."
Ginny watched as Harry walked forward to meet the blond, who was leaning casually on his broom and looking quite at home amongst the scowling Gryffindors.
"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" Harry demanded with a decided edge to his voice. "Gryffindor has the pitch booked for this evening."
Draco smiled pleasantly. "I'm sure there's enough room for the both of us. We could even have a practise game together. What do you say?"
"Don't do it, Harry!" Ginny blurted out.
The blond shifted his attention to her, and Ginny felt her cheeks burn under his amused stare. There was a quality in his grey eyes that she did not like. He looked almost too knowing, as if he had stripped her soul completely bare and was now making himself master of its contents.
"What's the matter, Weasley?" Draco asked in a low, taunting voice. "Scared that you might lose?"
"Hardly," she scoffed.
"Then you won't mind if we join you."
"Now hold on just a minute," Harry interposed, stepping forward. "You just can't invite yourself to our practise. How do I know you're not just doing this to learn our moves?"
Draco gave a weary sigh. "Look, Potter, my team needs the practise, and obviously yours does too. Besides, I already know all your players' moves."
"Now why doesn't that surprise me," Ginny commented acidly. "I suppose you sent your little spies to watch our practises."
"Naturally, Weasley. A Slytherin has to be prepared for everything."
Ginny rolled her eyes in disgust.
"You might as well just let them play with us," Ron muttered aside to Harry. "You know they'll never leave if you don't."
"I suppose you're right," Harry agreed, if a little reluctantly. "Fine, you can share the pitch with us, Malfoy."
"What?" Ginny exclaimed angrily.
"Excellent," Draco said with a smirk. "I'll go tell my team."
Ginny turned on Harry as soon as the blond had left. "What are you doing, Harry?" she hissed. "You can't let them join our practise!"
"It's not like we haven't done it before," Harry shrugged.
"Yeah, and they spent the whole time trying to hurt our Chasers so that we wouldn't be able to play properly for the real game."
"Oh, stop being such a drama queen, Ginny," Ron snapped. "You're only complaining because you don't like Malfoy. This is why girls should not be allowed to play Quidditch."
"What did you say?" Ginny demanded, clenching her hands into fists and taking a step towards her brother.
"Ron," Harry interposed with a frown, "don't provoke your sister, please." He turned to Ginny. "But Ron is right. If you can't get over your dislike of Malfoy and play the game, you might as well just leave the pitch now."
Ginny swallowed back her hurt and frustration. "Fine," she said in a small voice, "I'll play."
Harry took pity on her and bestowed her with a kind smile. "You'll be alright, Ginny. Just don't let him get to you, okay?"
"Okay."
"Come on, Potter," Draco called impatiently. "We haven't got all day."
Harry nodded in acknowledgment and then took his position as referee while Ginny went to stand in hers as Seeker. He blew the whistle to signal the start of the practise game, and the players immediately took to the sky. Slytherin got first possession of the Quaffle, but their triumph didn't last long as Dean Thomas snatched the ball from the Chaser's hands and flew towards the Slytherin goalposts. He managed to score, but Ginny stopped paying attention to what the other players were doing after that. Her sole mission was to capture the Snitch, and that was what she would focus on.
She could see Draco flying on his broom not too far from her, also searching for the golden ball. His eyes met hers, and the smallest of smirks flittered across his lips before he drifted closer towards her. Ginny repressed a sigh. It was just typical of him to come and pester her during a Quidditch match, even if just a practise one.
"I've been thinking, Weasley," Draco drawled as he hovered beside her, quite at his leisure.
"Really, Malfoy?" she responded with some impatience. "You surprise me. I was certain that such an act was quite beyond your mental capabilities."
He laughed. "You do have quite the waspish tongue, don't you?"
She glared at him.
"Anyway," he continued, as if she had not just been trying to turn him to stone with her eyes, "I've been thinking about your behaviour of late towards me, and I've come to the conclusion that you either must be insane or you fancy me. Though, to be fair, it could be a mixture of both."
"Is there a point to this, Malfoy?" Ginny growled, barely managing to keep her temper in check.
"Well, that depends."
"On what?"
He leaned forward on his broom and met her eyes steadily, his face just inches from hers. Ginny once again found herself stunned by how devastatingly beautiful he was up close. She licked her lips nervously, wondering what he would do. A slow smile curved his mouth, and he reached out as if to stroke her cheek, but then his hand closed around something near her ear.
"I do believe my team just won," Draco said smoothly.
Ginny realised with a surge of rage that he was clutching the Snitch, and that everything he had just done had been his way of distracting her so that he could grab the ball without her noticing. An overwhelming sense of humiliation swept over her.
"You jerk!" she cried furiously.
Draco laughed at her outrage, which only set her back up even more. She clenched her hands into fists, and then the blond was suddenly clutching his nose and groaning in pain.
"You punched me!" he accused thickly, looking half-astonished, half-enraged.
The redhead rubbed her knuckles with grim satisfaction. "You deserved it."
"Why you little—"
The shrill sound of a whistle caused both to glance down to where Harry was standing and looking very displeased.
"Damn," Ginny muttered.
"Looks like you're in trouble, Weasley," Draco observed, still managing to smirk even with a bleeding nose.
"Shut up!" she snapped.
He chuckled and then immediately winced in pain. Ginny couldn't help but smile at her handiwork, rather pleased that she had finally managed to put him out of joint and win the argument. She was not smiling, however, when Harry explained to her later that day that she would not be allowed to play as Seeker for the Friday match.
"But why?" Ginny whined, looking quite distressed.
"I told you that if you attacked Malfoy again you would be banned from playing."
"Oh, come on, I didn't even hit him that hard."
"It doesn't matter. You still punched him."
"No! You can't do this to me, Harry!"
"It's not up to me, it's up to Snape and McGonagall, and they both decided you should not be allowed to play."
"But this is just ridiculous! Slytherin attack us all the time before matches!"
"I know they do, but this is what the professors decided, and, to be honest, I think they have a point."
"What?"
"Everyone has noticed it, Ginny! Your behaviour towards Malfoy is completely irrational, and you're frankly too dangerous to be allowed near him."
"But I—"
"Enough, Ginny, I don't want to hear it!"
Her lip trembled, but she swallowed back the pathetic urge to cry. "Who will be replacing me?" she asked in a strained voice.
"I will be, obviously."
"You?" she exclaimed, wide-eyed. "No! You can't! What if you get hurt?"
"Well, that's a risk I'll just have to take. We don't have any more Seekers, and I won't have Gryffindor losing the House Cup over this. This is my last year at Hogwarts. I won't have my team lose."
Ginny felt guiltier than ever and could only hang her head in shame. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"Are you? Because it seems to me that all you ever think about lately are Malfoy and that stupid prophecy. Honestly, Ginny, when are you going to grow up?"
Her eyes started to sting and she gave a small sniff. Harry's cold expression immediately changed to dismay, and he placed an awkward hand on her shoulder.
"Come on, Ginny," he mumbled uncomfortably. "Don't cry. You know I didn't mean it."
She shook her head as tears rolled freely down her cheeks. "No, Harry, you're right. I've been stupid, and now I've ruined things for everyone."
"I wouldn't say that."
"But I have! And now you have to play as Seeker, and you might get hit by a Bludger and turn into a vegetable or something."
"Not the most optimistic one, are you?"
She gave a weak chuckle. "Sorry. I know you probably didn't want to hear that."
"Not really."
Ginny sighed and wiped the tears away from her face. "Oh, Harry, what are we going to do? You can't play Quidditch, you know you can't, and now I can't play at all!"
"Well, maybe we can work something out with the professors. They may change their minds, you know."
But Ginny knew by the forced smile on his lips that he didn't really believe that. He knew that Snape and McGonagall were never going to let her play for the Friday match, and the worst part was that she knew it really was her fault. She had let Draco Malfoy get the better of her, and now her team would have to suffer the consequences.
"I want to be alone for a while, if that's okay," Ginny said quietly.
"Sure," Harry replied, giving her an understanding look. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah."
She watched him leave and then slumped back against her chair, placing her head in her hands. What a mess she had got herself into. The Gryffindors were never going to forgive her for this one, as she doubted they would appreciate why it had been imperative for her to punch Draco Malfoy in the nose.
"Well done, Ginny," she sighed. "You've successfully ruined Gryffindors chances of winning the House Cup, and it's all because you allowed Draco Malfoy to dazzle you with his stupid good looks."
Nothing could be more pathetic, and Ginny wished more than ever that she had never heard about Myrtle's prophecy. It seemed that the more she fought against it, the more her life turned to custard.
"Well, aren't you a sorry sight."
Ginny quickly removed her hands from her face and could hardly believe her eyes when she saw Draco Malfoy standing before her. The nerve of him! She was appalled to note that Madam Pomfrey had already healed his nose as well, so she couldn't even take satisfaction in admiring the bruises she was sure would have blossomed on that perfect face of his.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped, rubbing away the traitor tears from her cheeks.
"I heard you're not allowed to play as Seeker for the Friday match."
"If you've come here to gloat, you might as well leave now. I'm not in the mood, and since I've already been banned from the team, it really doesn't matter anymore whether I lose my temper with you or not."
"My, my, we are touchy tonight."
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "You have five seconds to walk away before I hex you, Malfoy."
He held his hands up in an appeasing gesture. "Relax, Weasley, I have no intention of picking a fight with you. Though, you know, it really is your fault you were banned from the team."
"My fault?" Ginny exploded, standing up. "You were the one who—"
She broke off, realising the embarrassing implications of explaining just what he had done to provoke her.
"Yes?" Draco prompted, barely concealing his amusement. "I was the one who did what?"
She flushed. "You know damn well what you did."
"It's not my fault you're so easily distracted."
Ginny gritted her teeth. He was enjoying himself far too much.
"I wouldn't look so smug if I were you," she retorted waspishly. "I punched you in the nose before; I can easily do it again."
"Such violent threats. It makes me wonder just what that mother of yours taught you during your etiquette classes as a child."
"Probably a lot more than what your mother taught you."
"Oh, really?" he queried, raising an eyebrow. "Do enlighten me."
"Well, for starters, I'm not the one trying to seduce innocent girls during Quidditch practise so I can catch the Snitch."
"Seducing?" A wicked smile curled his lips. "And here I thought we were just having a friendly conversation."
Her blush deepened to a rich plum. "You know very well what I mean."
"Oh, I do," he purred, and she wondered how it was that he was suddenly so very close to her. "I'm just curious: did you punch me because I caught the Snitch before you or because you didn't get something else?"
"I—what?"
His eyes glinted with amusement as he stared down into her flushed face. "It's a simple question, Weasley. Even you should be able to answer this one."
She had been aware of a thick fog closing around her mind, but something about the smug tone of his voice jolted her back to her senses. Clarity sprang back to her with the snap of a rubber band, and she suddenly realised that she was once again being manoeuvred into a potentially humiliating situation by Draco Malfoy.
"Stop it!" she snapped, taking a step back from him.
"Stop what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Whatever it is you're doing! I want you to stop."
"Weasley, what on earth are you babbling about?"
Ginny stared at him, noting the perplexed frown on his lips. That was when it suddenly occurred to her that he was still standing exactly where he had been when she had first pulled her hands away and seen him. She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes. Had she just imagined his close proximity and seductively smooth voice?
"I think I'm going insane," Ginny breathed, covering her face with her hands.
"Yes, I think you are," Draco said bluntly.
She sighed and sat back down on the seat. The power of the prophecy was clearly warping her ability to think straight when around Draco Malfoy – either that or the blond had somehow discovered the ability to move at the speed of light.
"Are you alright, Weasley?"
Ginny vaguely registered in some unbiased part of her brain that he actually sounded concerned, but hearing the question so artlessly put to her after everything that had happened that day – and by him no less – caused what little hold she had over her temper to abruptly disintegrate. She rounded on him, her eyes blazing with the wild look of an animal pushed too far.
"Am I alright?" she repeated, looking just a little unhinged. "Why the hell would I be alright? I've been banned from playing Quidditch on Friday because you decided it would be funny to provoke me with your stupid tricks, and now Harry will have to take my place and will probably be hit in the head by a Bludger or something, which will reduce him into having the cognitive powers of a cauliflower. And then everyone will hate me because I would have effectively killed Harry Potter – not that they don't hate me already because everyone knows I've ruined Gryffindor's chances at the House Cup. But that would be nothing if I could just figure out a way to stop my horrid fate from happening, but I can't. I just make it worse; I make everything worse, and you're not bloody helping by always being everywhere!"
Draco stared at her, looking rather shell-shocked by her long and impassioned rant. "Oh," was all he managed to say.
"Just go away, Malfoy," Ginny said tiredly, feeling too upset and drained to argue with him any longer. "I really don't want to deal with this right now."
His brow furrowed slightly, and she thought she saw a hint of worry creep into his eyes, but then the expression was gone and his usual smirk was back on his lips.
"Very well, Weasley. I'll leave you to brood. I only came here to see if the rumours were true anyway."
She watched him leave the library, then put her head back in her hands with a deep groan. Today was clearly not her day. Not only had she managed to get herself banned from the team, but she had practically screamed at Draco Malfoy that she was attracted to him. It was all very distressing, particularly since no amount of denial could revoke the fact that she was indeed helplessly and irrevocably attracted to the blond.
"Oh, isn't there anything I can do to stop this prophecy?" Ginny asked of the library at large.
Perhaps there was a small part of her which hoped that the books containing such ready stores of knowledge might impart some of their wisdom to her, but it was not to be. Instead, Madam Pince told her to stop making such a racket or she could leave the library.
Ginny sighed and collected her belongings. Maybe she would just go to bed. Hopefully, when she woke up this would all be a horrible dream and everything would go back to normal. There would be no prophecies, no Myrtle, and no Draco Malfoy. More importantly, she would still be playing as Seeker for the Friday Quidditch game.
"Please let something work out," she thought desperately. "I can't bear the thought of Harry getting hurt because of my stupid temper."
oOo
"I thought I would find you out here."
Harry turned and spotted Luna walking towards him. "Hi, Luna," he greeted, thrusting his hands in his pockets to keep his hands warm.
She stopped beside him and gazed out into the empty stands. "It looks so sad without all the people, don't you think?"
"What?"
"The pitch," she explained, smiling at his confusion. "Don't you think it looks sad when it's empty like this?"
"Uh . . . sure."
In truth, he'd never really thought about it before. It was just a stadium.
They both fell silent. Luna swayed gently from side-to-side, as if dancing to her own inner music. He didn't bother to question her odd behaviour; in a way, it was almost relaxing to watch her move so serenely beside him, as if she had retreated into her own calm world and was allowing him to share in that too, even if just as a spectator.
"You're going to play as Seeker on Friday, aren't you?" she asked after a moment, staring up at the starry night.
"I don't have a choice," he answered. "Our team will have to forfeit if I don't."
Luna didn't say that he was an idiot to take such a risk or claim that it was just a game as Hermione had done. Nor did she fret and get worked up about his decision like Ginny had. She simply stopped swaying and looked at him with a disconcertingly direct gaze.
"Are you scared?" she asked calmly.
"A little," he admitted.
Normally he would not have confessed to such a weakness – he was Harry Potter, after all; he wasn't supposed to get scared – but Luna had a way of making him speak the truth, even when he was too embarrassed to do so.
She nodded her head. "I see."
Harry stared at his feet. "You think I'm stupid, don't you?"
"No." He glanced up in surprise, meeting her large, smiling eyes. "I think you're just being you."
"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not."
Luna laughed, freely and openly as she always did. "You do amuse me, Harry."
His brow creased into a frown. Was she laughing at him?
"Don't look so troubled," Luna said with a smile, clearly deciding to take pity on him. "Oh, I almost forgot." She reached into her pocket and held out what was unmistakably an onion. "Here, this is for you."
"What's this?" Harry asked, taking the onion from her.
"It's an onion, of course," Luna responded with another laugh.
"Well, I know that, but what's it for?"
"For luck," Luna explained, as if this should have been obvious. "It'll protect you from the Bludgers."
"I, er, didn't know that onions were lucky."
"Oh, they are," Luna said airily. "Most people just prefer rat tails because of the smell that comes with onions."
Harry privately thought that he wouldn't want either the rat tail or the onion. He much preferred the Muggle tradition of using a horseshoe for luck.
"Um, thanks, I guess," Harry said, pocketing the onion and wondering where on earth he was supposed to keep it on him while he flied on Friday.
That he wanted to keep it was surprising, but the thought never even crossed his brain to throw it away. Luna may do and say some strange things, but he had come to understand that there was a purpose to her odd behaviour – even if the explanation itself was sometimes unbelievable. She was wise in her own way, and if she believed the onion would protect him, then why not try it? He had nothing to lose.
"I'd much prefer you not play, of course," Luna continued, still in her usual placid voice, "but since you must, the onion should help you. Just promise me one thing, Harry."
"What?"
"Don't try and be too brave." Her eyes, so large and enquiring, softened into a warm, silvery blue. "No one will think any less of you if you don't catch the Snitch."
"Worried about me, Lovegood?" Harry teased.
"Of course I am," Luna responded frankly. "How am I supposed to get you to kiss me if you're stuck in St Mungos with a permanent head injury for the rest of your life?"
Harry felt the skin on the back of his neck pulse with heat, which then spread to inflame his cheeks so that he was veritably glowing. He had never had a girl behave so forward with him.
The blonde smiled at his embarrassment and took a step towards him, placing one hand against his burning cheek. Their eyes met, and then her face was coming closer – so close he could discern the tiny flecks of grey that were normally imperceptible in her blue irises. His eyes slid shut, and then their lips touched and it seemed to Harry that he had never felt so alive.
Luna pulled back after a moment, a shy smile curving her lips. "I've always wanted to do that."
Harry stared at her with a stunned look on his face, hardly daring to believe that Luna – the same Loony Lovegood whom he had once thought so bizarre – had just kissed him. However, what he did know for certain was that he had enjoyed it, and he was not against repeating the performance.
He trailed his thumb down her cheek, then leaned forward and kissed her again. Luna wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss, pressing herself closer so that the warmth of her body seeped through into his. The onion in his pocket pressed uncomfortably into both of them, but neither seemed to mind.
It was a long time before Harry returned to his common room that night.
Really, it was no wonder she was beginning to feel depressed. Her friends were supposed to be her support, yet they had all abandoned her to her fate and refused to see the seriousness of the situation. It was easy for them – they weren't the ones supposedly destined to bear Draco Malfoy's pink-haired children.
"What the hell are you doing, Ginny?" Harry yelled. "The Snitch just flew right past you!"
Ginny snapped out of her reverie and frantically tried to search for the glint of gold, but it had already vanished. She sighed, not even needing to be a Seer to know that she was about to receive an earful from Harry for her lapse. Just as she had predicted, Harry did indeed rant at her for daydreaming.
"It doesn't matter if this is just a practise," he cried fervently. "You have to act like this is the real thing! What if you start getting lost in your thoughts on Friday and Malfoy catches the Snitch before you?"
"I guess Slytherin will win the House Cup," Ginny replied dully.
She immediately regretted her choice of words as Harry went bright red with anger and started raving even more loudly at her. It was then that she saw the Slytherin Quidditch team stroll onto the pitch headed by the arrogant blond who was increasingly becoming the bane of her existence.
"Jerk alert!" one of the Gryffindor Beaters said loudly as he spotted the group of green-clad boys.
Ron landed beside Ginny and Harry. "Want us to get rid of them?"
"It's okay, Ron," Harry muttered. "I'll handle this."
Ginny watched as Harry walked forward to meet the blond, who was leaning casually on his broom and looking quite at home amongst the scowling Gryffindors.
"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" Harry demanded with a decided edge to his voice. "Gryffindor has the pitch booked for this evening."
Draco smiled pleasantly. "I'm sure there's enough room for the both of us. We could even have a practise game together. What do you say?"
"Don't do it, Harry!" Ginny blurted out.
The blond shifted his attention to her, and Ginny felt her cheeks burn under his amused stare. There was a quality in his grey eyes that she did not like. He looked almost too knowing, as if he had stripped her soul completely bare and was now making himself master of its contents.
"What's the matter, Weasley?" Draco asked in a low, taunting voice. "Scared that you might lose?"
"Hardly," she scoffed.
"Then you won't mind if we join you."
"Now hold on just a minute," Harry interposed, stepping forward. "You just can't invite yourself to our practise. How do I know you're not just doing this to learn our moves?"
Draco gave a weary sigh. "Look, Potter, my team needs the practise, and obviously yours does too. Besides, I already know all your players' moves."
"Now why doesn't that surprise me," Ginny commented acidly. "I suppose you sent your little spies to watch our practises."
"Naturally, Weasley. A Slytherin has to be prepared for everything."
Ginny rolled her eyes in disgust.
"You might as well just let them play with us," Ron muttered aside to Harry. "You know they'll never leave if you don't."
"I suppose you're right," Harry agreed, if a little reluctantly. "Fine, you can share the pitch with us, Malfoy."
"What?" Ginny exclaimed angrily.
"Excellent," Draco said with a smirk. "I'll go tell my team."
Ginny turned on Harry as soon as the blond had left. "What are you doing, Harry?" she hissed. "You can't let them join our practise!"
"It's not like we haven't done it before," Harry shrugged.
"Yeah, and they spent the whole time trying to hurt our Chasers so that we wouldn't be able to play properly for the real game."
"Oh, stop being such a drama queen, Ginny," Ron snapped. "You're only complaining because you don't like Malfoy. This is why girls should not be allowed to play Quidditch."
"What did you say?" Ginny demanded, clenching her hands into fists and taking a step towards her brother.
"Ron," Harry interposed with a frown, "don't provoke your sister, please." He turned to Ginny. "But Ron is right. If you can't get over your dislike of Malfoy and play the game, you might as well just leave the pitch now."
Ginny swallowed back her hurt and frustration. "Fine," she said in a small voice, "I'll play."
Harry took pity on her and bestowed her with a kind smile. "You'll be alright, Ginny. Just don't let him get to you, okay?"
"Okay."
"Come on, Potter," Draco called impatiently. "We haven't got all day."
Harry nodded in acknowledgment and then took his position as referee while Ginny went to stand in hers as Seeker. He blew the whistle to signal the start of the practise game, and the players immediately took to the sky. Slytherin got first possession of the Quaffle, but their triumph didn't last long as Dean Thomas snatched the ball from the Chaser's hands and flew towards the Slytherin goalposts. He managed to score, but Ginny stopped paying attention to what the other players were doing after that. Her sole mission was to capture the Snitch, and that was what she would focus on.
She could see Draco flying on his broom not too far from her, also searching for the golden ball. His eyes met hers, and the smallest of smirks flittered across his lips before he drifted closer towards her. Ginny repressed a sigh. It was just typical of him to come and pester her during a Quidditch match, even if just a practise one.
"I've been thinking, Weasley," Draco drawled as he hovered beside her, quite at his leisure.
"Really, Malfoy?" she responded with some impatience. "You surprise me. I was certain that such an act was quite beyond your mental capabilities."
He laughed. "You do have quite the waspish tongue, don't you?"
She glared at him.
"Anyway," he continued, as if she had not just been trying to turn him to stone with her eyes, "I've been thinking about your behaviour of late towards me, and I've come to the conclusion that you either must be insane or you fancy me. Though, to be fair, it could be a mixture of both."
"Is there a point to this, Malfoy?" Ginny growled, barely managing to keep her temper in check.
"Well, that depends."
"On what?"
He leaned forward on his broom and met her eyes steadily, his face just inches from hers. Ginny once again found herself stunned by how devastatingly beautiful he was up close. She licked her lips nervously, wondering what he would do. A slow smile curved his mouth, and he reached out as if to stroke her cheek, but then his hand closed around something near her ear.
"I do believe my team just won," Draco said smoothly.
Ginny realised with a surge of rage that he was clutching the Snitch, and that everything he had just done had been his way of distracting her so that he could grab the ball without her noticing. An overwhelming sense of humiliation swept over her.
"You jerk!" she cried furiously.
Draco laughed at her outrage, which only set her back up even more. She clenched her hands into fists, and then the blond was suddenly clutching his nose and groaning in pain.
"You punched me!" he accused thickly, looking half-astonished, half-enraged.
The redhead rubbed her knuckles with grim satisfaction. "You deserved it."
"Why you little—"
The shrill sound of a whistle caused both to glance down to where Harry was standing and looking very displeased.
"Damn," Ginny muttered.
"Looks like you're in trouble, Weasley," Draco observed, still managing to smirk even with a bleeding nose.
"Shut up!" she snapped.
He chuckled and then immediately winced in pain. Ginny couldn't help but smile at her handiwork, rather pleased that she had finally managed to put him out of joint and win the argument. She was not smiling, however, when Harry explained to her later that day that she would not be allowed to play as Seeker for the Friday match.
"But why?" Ginny whined, looking quite distressed.
"I told you that if you attacked Malfoy again you would be banned from playing."
"Oh, come on, I didn't even hit him that hard."
"It doesn't matter. You still punched him."
"No! You can't do this to me, Harry!"
"It's not up to me, it's up to Snape and McGonagall, and they both decided you should not be allowed to play."
"But this is just ridiculous! Slytherin attack us all the time before matches!"
"I know they do, but this is what the professors decided, and, to be honest, I think they have a point."
"What?"
"Everyone has noticed it, Ginny! Your behaviour towards Malfoy is completely irrational, and you're frankly too dangerous to be allowed near him."
"But I—"
"Enough, Ginny, I don't want to hear it!"
Her lip trembled, but she swallowed back the pathetic urge to cry. "Who will be replacing me?" she asked in a strained voice.
"I will be, obviously."
"You?" she exclaimed, wide-eyed. "No! You can't! What if you get hurt?"
"Well, that's a risk I'll just have to take. We don't have any more Seekers, and I won't have Gryffindor losing the House Cup over this. This is my last year at Hogwarts. I won't have my team lose."
Ginny felt guiltier than ever and could only hang her head in shame. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"Are you? Because it seems to me that all you ever think about lately are Malfoy and that stupid prophecy. Honestly, Ginny, when are you going to grow up?"
Her eyes started to sting and she gave a small sniff. Harry's cold expression immediately changed to dismay, and he placed an awkward hand on her shoulder.
"Come on, Ginny," he mumbled uncomfortably. "Don't cry. You know I didn't mean it."
She shook her head as tears rolled freely down her cheeks. "No, Harry, you're right. I've been stupid, and now I've ruined things for everyone."
"I wouldn't say that."
"But I have! And now you have to play as Seeker, and you might get hit by a Bludger and turn into a vegetable or something."
"Not the most optimistic one, are you?"
She gave a weak chuckle. "Sorry. I know you probably didn't want to hear that."
"Not really."
Ginny sighed and wiped the tears away from her face. "Oh, Harry, what are we going to do? You can't play Quidditch, you know you can't, and now I can't play at all!"
"Well, maybe we can work something out with the professors. They may change their minds, you know."
But Ginny knew by the forced smile on his lips that he didn't really believe that. He knew that Snape and McGonagall were never going to let her play for the Friday match, and the worst part was that she knew it really was her fault. She had let Draco Malfoy get the better of her, and now her team would have to suffer the consequences.
"I want to be alone for a while, if that's okay," Ginny said quietly.
"Sure," Harry replied, giving her an understanding look. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah."
She watched him leave and then slumped back against her chair, placing her head in her hands. What a mess she had got herself into. The Gryffindors were never going to forgive her for this one, as she doubted they would appreciate why it had been imperative for her to punch Draco Malfoy in the nose.
"Well done, Ginny," she sighed. "You've successfully ruined Gryffindors chances of winning the House Cup, and it's all because you allowed Draco Malfoy to dazzle you with his stupid good looks."
Nothing could be more pathetic, and Ginny wished more than ever that she had never heard about Myrtle's prophecy. It seemed that the more she fought against it, the more her life turned to custard.
"Well, aren't you a sorry sight."
Ginny quickly removed her hands from her face and could hardly believe her eyes when she saw Draco Malfoy standing before her. The nerve of him! She was appalled to note that Madam Pomfrey had already healed his nose as well, so she couldn't even take satisfaction in admiring the bruises she was sure would have blossomed on that perfect face of his.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped, rubbing away the traitor tears from her cheeks.
"I heard you're not allowed to play as Seeker for the Friday match."
"If you've come here to gloat, you might as well leave now. I'm not in the mood, and since I've already been banned from the team, it really doesn't matter anymore whether I lose my temper with you or not."
"My, my, we are touchy tonight."
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "You have five seconds to walk away before I hex you, Malfoy."
He held his hands up in an appeasing gesture. "Relax, Weasley, I have no intention of picking a fight with you. Though, you know, it really is your fault you were banned from the team."
"My fault?" Ginny exploded, standing up. "You were the one who—"
She broke off, realising the embarrassing implications of explaining just what he had done to provoke her.
"Yes?" Draco prompted, barely concealing his amusement. "I was the one who did what?"
She flushed. "You know damn well what you did."
"It's not my fault you're so easily distracted."
Ginny gritted her teeth. He was enjoying himself far too much.
"I wouldn't look so smug if I were you," she retorted waspishly. "I punched you in the nose before; I can easily do it again."
"Such violent threats. It makes me wonder just what that mother of yours taught you during your etiquette classes as a child."
"Probably a lot more than what your mother taught you."
"Oh, really?" he queried, raising an eyebrow. "Do enlighten me."
"Well, for starters, I'm not the one trying to seduce innocent girls during Quidditch practise so I can catch the Snitch."
"Seducing?" A wicked smile curled his lips. "And here I thought we were just having a friendly conversation."
Her blush deepened to a rich plum. "You know very well what I mean."
"Oh, I do," he purred, and she wondered how it was that he was suddenly so very close to her. "I'm just curious: did you punch me because I caught the Snitch before you or because you didn't get something else?"
"I—what?"
His eyes glinted with amusement as he stared down into her flushed face. "It's a simple question, Weasley. Even you should be able to answer this one."
She had been aware of a thick fog closing around her mind, but something about the smug tone of his voice jolted her back to her senses. Clarity sprang back to her with the snap of a rubber band, and she suddenly realised that she was once again being manoeuvred into a potentially humiliating situation by Draco Malfoy.
"Stop it!" she snapped, taking a step back from him.
"Stop what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Whatever it is you're doing! I want you to stop."
"Weasley, what on earth are you babbling about?"
Ginny stared at him, noting the perplexed frown on his lips. That was when it suddenly occurred to her that he was still standing exactly where he had been when she had first pulled her hands away and seen him. She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes. Had she just imagined his close proximity and seductively smooth voice?
"I think I'm going insane," Ginny breathed, covering her face with her hands.
"Yes, I think you are," Draco said bluntly.
She sighed and sat back down on the seat. The power of the prophecy was clearly warping her ability to think straight when around Draco Malfoy – either that or the blond had somehow discovered the ability to move at the speed of light.
"Are you alright, Weasley?"
Ginny vaguely registered in some unbiased part of her brain that he actually sounded concerned, but hearing the question so artlessly put to her after everything that had happened that day – and by him no less – caused what little hold she had over her temper to abruptly disintegrate. She rounded on him, her eyes blazing with the wild look of an animal pushed too far.
"Am I alright?" she repeated, looking just a little unhinged. "Why the hell would I be alright? I've been banned from playing Quidditch on Friday because you decided it would be funny to provoke me with your stupid tricks, and now Harry will have to take my place and will probably be hit in the head by a Bludger or something, which will reduce him into having the cognitive powers of a cauliflower. And then everyone will hate me because I would have effectively killed Harry Potter – not that they don't hate me already because everyone knows I've ruined Gryffindor's chances at the House Cup. But that would be nothing if I could just figure out a way to stop my horrid fate from happening, but I can't. I just make it worse; I make everything worse, and you're not bloody helping by always being everywhere!"
Draco stared at her, looking rather shell-shocked by her long and impassioned rant. "Oh," was all he managed to say.
"Just go away, Malfoy," Ginny said tiredly, feeling too upset and drained to argue with him any longer. "I really don't want to deal with this right now."
His brow furrowed slightly, and she thought she saw a hint of worry creep into his eyes, but then the expression was gone and his usual smirk was back on his lips.
"Very well, Weasley. I'll leave you to brood. I only came here to see if the rumours were true anyway."
She watched him leave the library, then put her head back in her hands with a deep groan. Today was clearly not her day. Not only had she managed to get herself banned from the team, but she had practically screamed at Draco Malfoy that she was attracted to him. It was all very distressing, particularly since no amount of denial could revoke the fact that she was indeed helplessly and irrevocably attracted to the blond.
"Oh, isn't there anything I can do to stop this prophecy?" Ginny asked of the library at large.
Perhaps there was a small part of her which hoped that the books containing such ready stores of knowledge might impart some of their wisdom to her, but it was not to be. Instead, Madam Pince told her to stop making such a racket or she could leave the library.
Ginny sighed and collected her belongings. Maybe she would just go to bed. Hopefully, when she woke up this would all be a horrible dream and everything would go back to normal. There would be no prophecies, no Myrtle, and no Draco Malfoy. More importantly, she would still be playing as Seeker for the Friday Quidditch game.
"Please let something work out," she thought desperately. "I can't bear the thought of Harry getting hurt because of my stupid temper."
"I thought I would find you out here."
Harry turned and spotted Luna walking towards him. "Hi, Luna," he greeted, thrusting his hands in his pockets to keep his hands warm.
She stopped beside him and gazed out into the empty stands. "It looks so sad without all the people, don't you think?"
"What?"
"The pitch," she explained, smiling at his confusion. "Don't you think it looks sad when it's empty like this?"
"Uh . . . sure."
In truth, he'd never really thought about it before. It was just a stadium.
They both fell silent. Luna swayed gently from side-to-side, as if dancing to her own inner music. He didn't bother to question her odd behaviour; in a way, it was almost relaxing to watch her move so serenely beside him, as if she had retreated into her own calm world and was allowing him to share in that too, even if just as a spectator.
"You're going to play as Seeker on Friday, aren't you?" she asked after a moment, staring up at the starry night.
"I don't have a choice," he answered. "Our team will have to forfeit if I don't."
Luna didn't say that he was an idiot to take such a risk or claim that it was just a game as Hermione had done. Nor did she fret and get worked up about his decision like Ginny had. She simply stopped swaying and looked at him with a disconcertingly direct gaze.
"Are you scared?" she asked calmly.
"A little," he admitted.
Normally he would not have confessed to such a weakness – he was Harry Potter, after all; he wasn't supposed to get scared – but Luna had a way of making him speak the truth, even when he was too embarrassed to do so.
She nodded her head. "I see."
Harry stared at his feet. "You think I'm stupid, don't you?"
"No." He glanced up in surprise, meeting her large, smiling eyes. "I think you're just being you."
"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not."
Luna laughed, freely and openly as she always did. "You do amuse me, Harry."
His brow creased into a frown. Was she laughing at him?
"Don't look so troubled," Luna said with a smile, clearly deciding to take pity on him. "Oh, I almost forgot." She reached into her pocket and held out what was unmistakably an onion. "Here, this is for you."
"What's this?" Harry asked, taking the onion from her.
"It's an onion, of course," Luna responded with another laugh.
"Well, I know that, but what's it for?"
"For luck," Luna explained, as if this should have been obvious. "It'll protect you from the Bludgers."
"I, er, didn't know that onions were lucky."
"Oh, they are," Luna said airily. "Most people just prefer rat tails because of the smell that comes with onions."
Harry privately thought that he wouldn't want either the rat tail or the onion. He much preferred the Muggle tradition of using a horseshoe for luck.
"Um, thanks, I guess," Harry said, pocketing the onion and wondering where on earth he was supposed to keep it on him while he flied on Friday.
That he wanted to keep it was surprising, but the thought never even crossed his brain to throw it away. Luna may do and say some strange things, but he had come to understand that there was a purpose to her odd behaviour – even if the explanation itself was sometimes unbelievable. She was wise in her own way, and if she believed the onion would protect him, then why not try it? He had nothing to lose.
"I'd much prefer you not play, of course," Luna continued, still in her usual placid voice, "but since you must, the onion should help you. Just promise me one thing, Harry."
"What?"
"Don't try and be too brave." Her eyes, so large and enquiring, softened into a warm, silvery blue. "No one will think any less of you if you don't catch the Snitch."
"Worried about me, Lovegood?" Harry teased.
"Of course I am," Luna responded frankly. "How am I supposed to get you to kiss me if you're stuck in St Mungos with a permanent head injury for the rest of your life?"
Harry felt the skin on the back of his neck pulse with heat, which then spread to inflame his cheeks so that he was veritably glowing. He had never had a girl behave so forward with him.
The blonde smiled at his embarrassment and took a step towards him, placing one hand against his burning cheek. Their eyes met, and then her face was coming closer – so close he could discern the tiny flecks of grey that were normally imperceptible in her blue irises. His eyes slid shut, and then their lips touched and it seemed to Harry that he had never felt so alive.
Luna pulled back after a moment, a shy smile curving her lips. "I've always wanted to do that."
Harry stared at her with a stunned look on his face, hardly daring to believe that Luna – the same Loony Lovegood whom he had once thought so bizarre – had just kissed him. However, what he did know for certain was that he had enjoyed it, and he was not against repeating the performance.
He trailed his thumb down her cheek, then leaned forward and kissed her again. Luna wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss, pressing herself closer so that the warmth of her body seeped through into his. The onion in his pocket pressed uncomfortably into both of them, but neither seemed to mind.
It was a long time before Harry returned to his common room that night.
Author notes: The phrase "Jerk alert!" was taken from The Goonies.
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