Draco was in an irritated mood when he went down to breakfast the next morning. He shot a dark look at the Ravenclaw table, where Luna was staring into space.
Damn that Luna Lovegood! Not only was she singularly the most meddlesome person he had come across (rivalling even his mother), he decided that everything that was not right in the world was most definitely her fault. What had she meant by writing to his father like they were old chums? And how dare she tell lies about him! For Draco was most definitely not ‘secretly in love’ with Ginny Weasley – not even a bit. That Lovegood had some nerve carrying on with this deluded plan of hers when she knew full well how he felt about it. Not to mention that with all the talk about sexual tension, Lovegood had opened his eyes to the fact that the littlest Weasel was a girl. He would’ve had to be a saint not to start thinking of Ginny as a member of the opposite sex. Wait—Ginny? When had he started thinking of her as Ginny?
In any case, it was all Lovegood’s fault that he’d started thinking about Ginny in the strangest way. For instance, that day he’d overheard Ginny discussing with a friend her favourite place to buy lingerie, and his imagination had gone wild. And then yesterday he’d happened to catch a whiff of perfume on her as she’d walked past him, and it had driven him crazy for the rest of the day. He imagined her dabbing a little on her wrist, on the pulse point on her neck… Little Ginny Weasley had certainly grown up, and Draco had definitely noticed.
These treacherous thoughts had culminated in an extremely odd dream last night, which he did not want to think about in the Great Hall. For all he knew, Potter might be a Legilimens and tell the Weasel (the ugly male one) what was going on in Draco’s head, and then the Weasel would finally try to kill Draco for thinking of his little sister in that way (Draco was willing to bet that the ugly Weasel was one of those people who still turned red when the topic of sex came up).
The blond had woken up extremely frustrated and had sworn that no one would ever find out about his dream. It was only a dream, and had no special meaning. It must have been the combined effect of the suggestion in his father’s letter about taking ‘necessary precautions’, and the fact that he hadn’t got any in a while. Yes, that had to be the reason.
Draco carefully avoided looking at the Gryffindor table (where he knew she would be, laughing or eating in the most distracting way possible). As Draco sliced his bacon, he resolved to put the dream firmly in the back of his mind. He was a self-respecting Slytherin, and a Malfoy at that. He would not be brought to his knees by foolish thoughts of red hair on black silk sheets.
~
“Dr—Malfoy?”
“Yes?” Draco decided not to dwell on the fact that she’d nearly called him by his given name.
“Don’t move.”
Draco stilled. They were packing up their belongings to leave the Room of Requirement and return to their Common Rooms for the night. Although Ginny hadn’t said a word about it, he knew that her exams ended the next day and there would be no reason for her to come back. For some reason, going down this train of thought gave Draco a low hollow feeling in his stomach. If he had been more schooled in emotions (in particular, feeling and not hiding them), he would have realised that it was dread.
Very slowly, Ginny came closer until she was right in front of him. Draco struggled not to make any movement. What was the Weaslette doing? Was she going to—? Did he want her to—?
“Weasel,” he began.
“Shh,” Ginny cautioned. Excruciatingly slowly (at least that’s how it felt to him), Ginny lifted herself on her toes. With her head tilted up, Draco could almost feel her breath on his chin. It was intoxicating. He resisted the urge to grab her and kiss her senseless; at least if she were the one to do it, no dignity would be lost on his part.
Slowly, her hand went up to his ear and, quick as lightning, it shot out and grabbed a handful of his hair.
“What in Merlin’s name!” Draco cried, leaping back in shock.
Ginny showed him the creature now cupped in her hand. “It’s a cricket.”
Draco sputtered in indignation. He would deal with the disappointment later. “What was it doing in my hair?” he demanded, trying to smooth down his immaculately gelled hair. He willed his heart to slow its quickstep. Nothing had happened. It had just been a cricket in his hair.
“It’s attracted to blonds, it seems,” Ginny said, shrugging. She scrutinised him for a moment. “You know, your hair looks better like that; a little mussed up.”
Draco couldn’t help the half-smile that edged up the side of his mouth. “A Weasley complimenting a Malfoy? I never thought I’d live to hear it.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Ginny quipped.
There was a protracted silence as Draco struggled to think of something to say. Anything to keep her around for just a bit longer.
“Well, I’ll be off now,” Ginny said, giving him a strained smile. “I’ll see you around then, Malfoy.”
Draco stood rooted to the spot as he watched her leave. Was he going to let her leave like this? Then again, why not? What did he want to do, anyway? So what if he never saw her again?
As Ginny reached the end of the corridor, she abruptly turned around, and, in that instant, Draco felt like he had taken a kick to his stomach; had she always been this beautiful? And damn it all, what was happening to him?
“Malfoy?”
“Yes?” he asked, fully hating how eager he sounded; how desperate, how transparent.
“All the best for NEWTs.”
“Uh—thanks.” Draco didn’t know what to say. Where had his acidic wit and sharp tongue gone? He could hear Blaise in his mind’s eye, taunting him: They’ve hibernated for the winter, together with your spine. No, it was not going to end this way.
“It’s late. C’mon, I’ll walk you back,” he said in a voice that brooked no objection.
“All right,” Ginny agreed.
As they walked down the corridor together, Draco wondered what the hell he was doing and what this strange feeling blooming inside him was. For damn if he didn’t feel like he wanted to walk her everywhere.
Draco thought it might be awkward afterwards, but as he turned to leave, Ginny grinned impishly at him. “Well, thanks for walking me back, Ferret.”
Draco narrowed his eyes at the nickname. “Weasel.”
“Albino.”
“Carrot-top.”
“Big-Head boy.”
“Freckle-face.”
“Boot-licker.”
“Muggle-lover.”
“Stupid head.”
“… Stupid head?”
“Shut up, Malfoy.”
~
Blaise Zabini studied the blond seated across him at the Slytherin table.
His friend had been acting very strangely as of late. He’d been disappearing every night for the past few weeks. Draco said it was to study, but then he refused to say more on the matter, and when he returned, he’d be in a much better mood. Not that Blaise expected Draco to break out in song or anything (displaying happiness was not a trait Malfoys possessed, apparently), but the boy was less snappy and, for the most part, more relaxed. In the mornings, though, he’d revert to being terribly jumpy and generally just behaving in an odd manner. Not to mention that owl he’d got that had made him so snippy.
Blaise would bet his last penny that this strange behaviour had something to do with a girl. Perhaps that blonde Ravenclaw that had been following Draco around like a puppy. She seemed involved in the owl incident as well.
Perhaps it was time to do some investigation.
As it turned out, there was no need to investigate. The aforementioned Ravenclaw came up to Blaise as he was exiting the Great Hall, and introduced herself.
“Hello,” she said, “I’m Luna Lovegood. Some people call me Loony, but I really prefer ‘Luna’. Pleased to meet you. What is your name?”
Disconcerted as he was by her introduction, foremost in Blaise’s mind was the fact that she had no idea who he was.
“Blaise Zabini,” he replied, feeling quite injured.
Was she kidding? He was only the most popular and best-looking person in Hogwarts, and she didn’t know his name?
“Hello, Blaise. Am I right to say that you are a Slytherin, and also good friends with Draco Malfoy?” Luna asked, staring at him with large eyes, which was frankly disconcerting.
Blaise nodded.
“Well, I have a proposition for you…”
~
When Blaise heard Luna’s theory on Draco and the Weasel girl, he had a hard time keeping his face straight. If there were ever two people whom he thought would kill each other before dating, it would be them. They were constantly quarrelling, though now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen them doing so in a while. Come to think of it, she was one of the few who could truly cause Draco to lose his cool. Not that this was a good thing.
At the end of the day, Blaise didn’t need much persuasion. He loved schemes of all kinds, the sneakier the better. Given that this one was against the King of Scheming himself, a.k.a. his good friend Draco Malfoy, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Besides, Draco couldn’t fault him for partaking in a plan that was for his own good, could he?
“Those two are so pigheaded, they’ll never admit anything,” Blaise explained to Luna. “What you have to do is force them.”
Luna’s eyes got very large. “You mean like Veritaserum?”
“I was thinking something more along the lines of locking them in a broom closet until they admit it, but that works too. Or jealousy; jealousy always works. What have you done so far?”
“I gave Ginny a dippetberry bracelet. It helps to overcome one’s inhibitions and prejudices,” she explained earnestly, when Blaise just stared at her, open-mouthed. “But it didn’t work. The dippetberries were probably too old or something.”
“Hmm.” Blaise was tactful enough not to say anything dismissive. After all, they were working towards the same end. “Anything else?”
When Luna told him about the owl, Blaise couldn’t help but marvel. This girl had some guts writing to Lucius Malfoy. The man still gave him the creeps.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked. “Can we make them admit they’re in love before Malfoy graduates from Hogwarts? I know Ginny will be devastated if nothing happens, even if she does pretend so well sometimes,” Luna added with a concerned sigh for her friend.
Privately Blaise thought that Luna was off her rocker for thinking that the Weasel Girl was only ‘pretending’ to dislike Draco. Then again, as he thought about what Luna had told him concerning the events of the past weeks, it occurred to Blaise that, in denial or not, Draco had been happier and he had a sneaking suspicion that it actually might have something to do with the Weasel Girl.
“Well, it can’t hurt to try,” he conceded. “But with Draco, you’ve got to be a little sneaky…”
~
Ginny had been rather relieved when Luna had promised to stop bothering her and Draco about each other if they’d go for one last counselling session.
Now Ginny sat in a cushy chair in the Charms classroom, quite happy that she would no longer have to defend her views on Malfoy. Luna had gone all out (she probably felt bad about the whole thing, especially as Draco still had NEWTS to study for), with hot tea and shortbread and soft fluffy chairs for them to sit on. It really wasn’t bad. The worst that could be said about the situation was that it was boring; Luna had gone on at length about the importance of chemistry, and was now talking about overcoming childhood prejudices.
Ginny took another bite of her shortbread, and then another. It was really quite delicious.
She sneaked a look at Draco, whose eyes were slightly glazed over, and fought a giggle. He looked positively angelic when he wasn’t wearing a scowl. It had occurred to her that despite all his complaining (which he loved to do), he had been surprisingly sweet about the whole thing, agreeing to humour Luna (some of the time, at least) when he could have just told her to bugger off.
“Now, on to the questions!” Luna said brightly. “The first question is whether you find each other attractive.”
“What? How is this relevant?” Ginny demanded, the chunk of shortbread that she had been holding freezing in its trajectory towards her mouth.
Ginny understood (from a purely disinterested, objective viewpoint, of course) that Malfoy was incredibly drool-worthy, and she also knew that Luna knew this. In fact, Luna had gotten Ginny to admit this to her not long ago. Why was she pushing the matter now?
“If you’d paid any attention at all in the last ten minutes,” Luna stated with a small frown, “you would know that attraction is very important in any relationship. Shall we start with you, Gin?”
“I went first the last time; I think it’s Malfoy’s turn.”
Ginny knew she sounded childish, but she did not want to admit in front of Draco that she found him attractive. She could lie, but then she’d always been bad at it, and then Draco would know. Obviously, Luna was being downright evil wanting Ginny to reveal this embarrassing bit of information in front of the Slytherin. It was true that Luna was her good friend, but Ginny was going to maim her someday; she swore it. If looks could kill, Luna would be six feet under by now.
“Fine.” Luna turned to Draco. “Malfoy, do you find Ginny attractive?”
Draco took his time, letting his eyes wander over Ginny before speaking. What he’d intended to say was, Well, she’s not as hideous as her brother, I suppose. But what came out instead was, “Much, much more than I should.”
The tea that Ginny had just sipped promptly came spraying out of her mouth. “What?”
Draco himself looked equally shocked at his comment.
Luna hid a smile, taking advantage of Draco’s confusion to ask him another question. “That is to say, you think she’s hot, right?”
“Yes, you have no idea what dreams I’ve been having—”
Suddenly, Draco slapped his hand over his mouth and turned towards Luna accusingly. “You’ve drugged me with Veritaserum!”
Luna considered him placidly. “You catch on quick.”
“Luna, how could you!” Ginny cried, outraged that her friend had so thoroughly betrayed her and had stooped so low to do it.
She’d really thought that Luna was losing patience with this scheme of hers. But, then again, when had Ginny ever known Luna to give up on anything? In retrospect, Ginny thought she should have known that it was too good to be true. Still, she couldn’t deny the tiny shiver of pleasure that had shot through her at Draco’s admission. It always felt nice to be wanted, and she couldn’t help wondering what kind of dreams Draco had had.
Luna gazed at Ginny with an air of martyrdom. “You’ll thank me someday, Gin. Now, where were we?”
“Like I’m going to sit here and let you take advantage of me!” Draco retorted, trying to stand up, but his legs suddenly felt as heavy as lead.
“There might have been something in the shortbread as well,” Luna informed him.
Draco let out a groan of exasperation and then turned to Ginny. “This is all your fault!”
“What do you mean, my fault? I’m a victim too!”
“If you hadn’t kept giving in to her—”
“Don’t fight, children,” Luna interjected. “I’ve only got two questions for each of you, and then you’re free to go. Deal?”
Draco glared at the blonde. “Don’t think Professor Flitwick won’t be hearing about this tomorrow morning.”
Luna dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Let’s just say it’s a less potent version of Veritaserum; one no one has thought to ban in schools. Anyway, let’s get on with it. Gin, I believe it’s your turn. Do you find Malfoy attractive?”
“Yes,” Ginny whispered, thanking her lucky stars that she didn’t say more.
With the knowledge that there was Veritaserum working against her, Ginny had at least had time to prepare a truthful answer that didn’t totally strip her of her dignity.
“And are your feelings towards Malfoy the same as they were three weeks ago?” Luna asked.
“What do you mean?” Ginny responded, avoiding the question.
The simple answer was no, but to say it without giving an explanation might give Luna the idea that she liked Malfoy. Which she most certainly didn’t.
Luna, however, was not so easily fooled, and took the opportunity to make it known.
“After lengthy observation,” the blonde remarked, “I’m more positive than ever that you and Malfoy are meant for each other.”
Ginny shot her a look of disbelief, prompting Luna to continue.
“Oh, don’t pretend. I saw you staring at him during lunch the other day; you looked like you wanted to eat him alive.”
“Luna!” Ginny was horrified, although she didn’t care to examine whether it was at the thought of wanting to eat Malfoy alive (figuratively) or the fact that Luna was telling Draco this.
“Well?” Luna asked. “Do you deny that you were mentally undressing him with your eyes?”
Ginny was forced to answer, though she avoided looking at Draco and resolutely stared into her tea as she did so; she knew he’d likely be sporting a self-satisfied smirk.
“No.”
If she had looked up, she would’ve seen the way Draco held his breath when Luna asked the question and the spots of pink that appeared on his cheeks at her answer. In fact, if she had thought about it at all, she would have realised that he had been strangely quiet throughout the exchange, making no smarmy remarks or boasts about how all the girls loved him.
Luna, meanwhile, had not been so oblivious. Humming as she pretended to jot down notes, she surreptitiously observed Draco’s reaction to Ginny’s answers.
Pupils dilated, check. Uneven breathing, check.
Success! The sexual tension was so palpable now that she could barely stand to be in the same room as the both of them. It was like a ticking time bomb – it was only a matter of time.
~
It was fitting that NEWTS ended on the Friday just before a Hogsmeade weekend. Draco spent his Saturday with his friends, admiring the new brooms for sale and cleaning out Honeydukes. Spent, they then went to The Three Broomsticks for a mug (or ten) of Butterbeer. Snape wouldn’t mind as long as they didn’t embarrass themselves or Slytherin house.
Settling back in his seat with a mug of Butterbeer, Draco contemplated his newfound freedom. Now that his NEWTS were over, he was home-free – soon to leave Hogwarts for good. It was what he’d been looking forward to since his first year; he was ambitious by nature and had wanted nothing more than to leave school and prove himself in the outside world. Now, however, the thought of leaving Hogwarts filled him with dread for reasons that he didn’t want to examine.
“What’s up with you, mate?” Blaise asked as Draco’s head snapped towards the entrance of The Three Broomsticks for the tenth time, as it had every time the door opened.
“Nothing,” Draco said sullenly.
Blaise took a swig of his Butterbeer. “I’m so glad we’re done with Hogwarts.”
Draco grunted.
“Just think, we’ll never have to see any of those Gryffindorks again.”
Draco shrugged. “It’s a small world.”
“Not that small. No more Hufflepuffs, no more Potter, no more Weasleys…” Blaise paused, noting with some satisfaction that Draco’s napkin was balled tightly in his fists. “They probably won’t remember us after a while, anyway,” he added after a moment.
Draco downed the rest of his beer, looking quite miserable. He suddenly wished he’d got firewhisky instead of Butterbeer. He needed something stronger. The thought of never seeing Ginny again made his stomach curl, and the thought that she might forget about him altogether was frankly terrifying. They could almost be considered friends now, but so what? It wasn’t like they would write to each other after he’d left. There were plenty of guys in Hogwarts, and he had seen the way they looked at Ginny. She would be snapped up in no time. Not that she was his to claim, but, still, the thought of her going out with another boy left a sour taste in his mouth.
She had a wicked sense of humour, quite compatible with his. And she was very easy to talk to; he never felt like he was being anything other than himself around her, though she never shrunk from telling him off if she felt he deserved it.
Most importantly, he would miss her company, and could not bear not seeing her again. In fact, he thought, it would be nice if he could see her all the time.
It was then that Draco realised he was in love with Ginny Weasley.
Immediately put on guard, he considered the possibility that Lovegood had drugged him with a love potion, but ruled that out. He wouldn’t put it past her to do something like that, but he had fallen victim to love potions too many times not to recognise the symptoms. The feelings they stirred were passionate and sudden. This… thing with Ginny had been more gradual. Now that he thought about it, every night for the past week he had been going to sleep with thoughts of her in his mind. And not in a naughty way either, which was a first for him. Did he have a chance in hell with her? She’d revealed that she was attracted to him, but how much could that possibly count for?
Could he really leave Hogwarts without giving this a try?
~
Ginny Weasley was in a terrible mood. Although her exams were over, she wasn’t feeling the jubilation that everyone else felt necessary to express in loud and obnoxious ways.
She had come to realise that she was kind-of-maybe-sorta in like with a total prat who would never look twice her way (except to insult her). In addition, she would probably never see said prat again, and this had sunk her mood entirely. The whole revelation had come, most fittingly, from a casual chat with Luna as they ambled through the pebbled streets of Hogsmeade.
“Gin, about the Malfoy thing… I hope you know I really was only doing it for your own good.”
“I know, Lu. It’s sweet that you care enough to do something. But, really, there was no need.”
“But there was no harm, right? Anyway, you’ll never see him again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. Malfoy’s already in his seventh year; he won’t be at Hogwarts after graduation. This is probably the last time you’ll be seeing him ever.”
Ginny had felt like she’d suddenly been doused in ice-cold water. The panic that had shot through her at Luna’s words revealed that Luna had been right all along – she was in love with none other than Draco Malfoy, git extraordinaire.
It had thrown her off-balance, and she’d spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze. It didn’t help that things had been strained between her and Draco since their last counselling session. He’d admitted to having dreams about her, but then boys were boys and couldn’t really help such things. It did not mean that he was going to suddenly declare his love for her or anything like that. He was going to leave Hogwarts and forget that she ever existed.
Luna had noticed her abrupt change in demeanour, and, concerned, had suggested that she take a nice relaxing bath that night instead of her usual shower (“Nine is probably the best time; it’s after hallway traffic clears but not too late so your hair will still be wet when you go to bed”). Ginny thought it sounded perfect. At 8.50 p.m., Ginny grabbed her bath things and headed towards the Prefect’s bathroom, fully intending on spending the rest of the evening relaxing as far as possible.
As she turned the corner onto the corridor where the Prefect’s bath was situated, she saw a familiar snarky blond holding a black bath bag, also striding purposefully towards the bathroom. Her heart skipped a beat, but Ginny was feeling too self-piteous to care. She felt like she’d already lost him, somehow. She needed to wallow for a while; she’d been counting on an indulgent bath to lift her mood. How dare he take that away from her, especially considering that he was the reason she was in such a mood?
Oh, no you don't.
Picking up speed, she almost-ran towards the bathroom, intending to get there before Draco did. Only, of course, with the way her luck had been the past week, what actually happened was that she tripped and pitched right into Draco, whose arms came around her waist as the both of them slammed into the wall.
There was a sense of déjà vu about the whole thing. Hadn’t they been in a situation quite similar to this not very long ago? Hadn’t it, in fact, started this whole thing?
Except, this time, it was somehow different. It wasn’t just that this time they were standing, whereas previously she’d been sitting on him. They weren’t as physically close this time, yet this felt more … intimate, somehow: his hands loosely around her waist and her head barely resting against his shoulder. When she inhaled, she could smell the lovely peppermint smell that she had come to associate with Draco.
She chanced a look at him. He was looking down at her, his eyes a dark, intense grey, searching hers. He still hadn’t let go of her, and his breathing was harsh and uneven.
Ginny’s breath caught at the undisguised want in his eyes. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure that Draco could hear it. She wondered if he was going to kiss her. She had never wanted anything as badly as she did at that moment.
And then, ever so slowly, he bent his head towards hers. His lips were a hairsbreadth away when he murmured, “Don’t kill me, okay?” before lowering his lips to meet hers in a kiss that was as gentle and warm as it was passionate and intoxicating.
Just around the corner, Luna removed the Extendable Ears and passed them to Blaise, who listened for a while and then put them down, smiling smugly. “Told you it’d work,” he said. “Never underestimate the power of a Tripping Jinx.”
~
A few days later…
Luna chewed on the end of her quill as she considered her words carefully. Finally, she set her quill down to paper and began to write.
Dear Mr and Mrs Malfoy,
It’s me again, Luna Lovegood. As you have no doubt heard, your son, Draco, has got a girlfriend, the wonderful girl that I wrote earlier to tell you about. If you are wondering why your son has been smiling so much these days (though it’s a creepy look on him), look no further.
Anyway, I am writing primarily to call dibs on naming their first pink-haired baby. After all, much of their courtship’s progression can be attributed to me. Though young Bobby (or Snookie, if it’s a girl) may not appear for a few years yet, do not fret; I am working on it. As experience has shown, this means that it will happen soon. Cross your fingers!
Regards,
Luna Lovegood
P.S. Congratulations on your acquisition of Twenty-Four Carat Enterprises. I never knew that you could acquire a company jewel by jewel.
~
Damn that Luna Lovegood! Not only was she singularly the most meddlesome person he had come across (rivalling even his mother), he decided that everything that was not right in the world was most definitely her fault. What had she meant by writing to his father like they were old chums? And how dare she tell lies about him! For Draco was most definitely not ‘secretly in love’ with Ginny Weasley – not even a bit. That Lovegood had some nerve carrying on with this deluded plan of hers when she knew full well how he felt about it. Not to mention that with all the talk about sexual tension, Lovegood had opened his eyes to the fact that the littlest Weasel was a girl. He would’ve had to be a saint not to start thinking of Ginny as a member of the opposite sex. Wait—Ginny? When had he started thinking of her as Ginny?
In any case, it was all Lovegood’s fault that he’d started thinking about Ginny in the strangest way. For instance, that day he’d overheard Ginny discussing with a friend her favourite place to buy lingerie, and his imagination had gone wild. And then yesterday he’d happened to catch a whiff of perfume on her as she’d walked past him, and it had driven him crazy for the rest of the day. He imagined her dabbing a little on her wrist, on the pulse point on her neck… Little Ginny Weasley had certainly grown up, and Draco had definitely noticed.
These treacherous thoughts had culminated in an extremely odd dream last night, which he did not want to think about in the Great Hall. For all he knew, Potter might be a Legilimens and tell the Weasel (the ugly male one) what was going on in Draco’s head, and then the Weasel would finally try to kill Draco for thinking of his little sister in that way (Draco was willing to bet that the ugly Weasel was one of those people who still turned red when the topic of sex came up).
The blond had woken up extremely frustrated and had sworn that no one would ever find out about his dream. It was only a dream, and had no special meaning. It must have been the combined effect of the suggestion in his father’s letter about taking ‘necessary precautions’, and the fact that he hadn’t got any in a while. Yes, that had to be the reason.
Draco carefully avoided looking at the Gryffindor table (where he knew she would be, laughing or eating in the most distracting way possible). As Draco sliced his bacon, he resolved to put the dream firmly in the back of his mind. He was a self-respecting Slytherin, and a Malfoy at that. He would not be brought to his knees by foolish thoughts of red hair on black silk sheets.
~
“Dr—Malfoy?”
“Yes?” Draco decided not to dwell on the fact that she’d nearly called him by his given name.
“Don’t move.”
Draco stilled. They were packing up their belongings to leave the Room of Requirement and return to their Common Rooms for the night. Although Ginny hadn’t said a word about it, he knew that her exams ended the next day and there would be no reason for her to come back. For some reason, going down this train of thought gave Draco a low hollow feeling in his stomach. If he had been more schooled in emotions (in particular, feeling and not hiding them), he would have realised that it was dread.
Very slowly, Ginny came closer until she was right in front of him. Draco struggled not to make any movement. What was the Weaslette doing? Was she going to—? Did he want her to—?
“Weasel,” he began.
“Shh,” Ginny cautioned. Excruciatingly slowly (at least that’s how it felt to him), Ginny lifted herself on her toes. With her head tilted up, Draco could almost feel her breath on his chin. It was intoxicating. He resisted the urge to grab her and kiss her senseless; at least if she were the one to do it, no dignity would be lost on his part.
Slowly, her hand went up to his ear and, quick as lightning, it shot out and grabbed a handful of his hair.
“What in Merlin’s name!” Draco cried, leaping back in shock.
Ginny showed him the creature now cupped in her hand. “It’s a cricket.”
Draco sputtered in indignation. He would deal with the disappointment later. “What was it doing in my hair?” he demanded, trying to smooth down his immaculately gelled hair. He willed his heart to slow its quickstep. Nothing had happened. It had just been a cricket in his hair.
“It’s attracted to blonds, it seems,” Ginny said, shrugging. She scrutinised him for a moment. “You know, your hair looks better like that; a little mussed up.”
Draco couldn’t help the half-smile that edged up the side of his mouth. “A Weasley complimenting a Malfoy? I never thought I’d live to hear it.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Ginny quipped.
There was a protracted silence as Draco struggled to think of something to say. Anything to keep her around for just a bit longer.
“Well, I’ll be off now,” Ginny said, giving him a strained smile. “I’ll see you around then, Malfoy.”
Draco stood rooted to the spot as he watched her leave. Was he going to let her leave like this? Then again, why not? What did he want to do, anyway? So what if he never saw her again?
As Ginny reached the end of the corridor, she abruptly turned around, and, in that instant, Draco felt like he had taken a kick to his stomach; had she always been this beautiful? And damn it all, what was happening to him?
“Malfoy?”
“Yes?” he asked, fully hating how eager he sounded; how desperate, how transparent.
“All the best for NEWTs.”
“Uh—thanks.” Draco didn’t know what to say. Where had his acidic wit and sharp tongue gone? He could hear Blaise in his mind’s eye, taunting him: They’ve hibernated for the winter, together with your spine. No, it was not going to end this way.
“It’s late. C’mon, I’ll walk you back,” he said in a voice that brooked no objection.
“All right,” Ginny agreed.
As they walked down the corridor together, Draco wondered what the hell he was doing and what this strange feeling blooming inside him was. For damn if he didn’t feel like he wanted to walk her everywhere.
Draco thought it might be awkward afterwards, but as he turned to leave, Ginny grinned impishly at him. “Well, thanks for walking me back, Ferret.”
Draco narrowed his eyes at the nickname. “Weasel.”
“Albino.”
“Carrot-top.”
“Big-Head boy.”
“Freckle-face.”
“Boot-licker.”
“Muggle-lover.”
“Stupid head.”
“… Stupid head?”
“Shut up, Malfoy.”
~
Blaise Zabini studied the blond seated across him at the Slytherin table.
His friend had been acting very strangely as of late. He’d been disappearing every night for the past few weeks. Draco said it was to study, but then he refused to say more on the matter, and when he returned, he’d be in a much better mood. Not that Blaise expected Draco to break out in song or anything (displaying happiness was not a trait Malfoys possessed, apparently), but the boy was less snappy and, for the most part, more relaxed. In the mornings, though, he’d revert to being terribly jumpy and generally just behaving in an odd manner. Not to mention that owl he’d got that had made him so snippy.
Blaise would bet his last penny that this strange behaviour had something to do with a girl. Perhaps that blonde Ravenclaw that had been following Draco around like a puppy. She seemed involved in the owl incident as well.
Perhaps it was time to do some investigation.
As it turned out, there was no need to investigate. The aforementioned Ravenclaw came up to Blaise as he was exiting the Great Hall, and introduced herself.
“Hello,” she said, “I’m Luna Lovegood. Some people call me Loony, but I really prefer ‘Luna’. Pleased to meet you. What is your name?”
Disconcerted as he was by her introduction, foremost in Blaise’s mind was the fact that she had no idea who he was.
“Blaise Zabini,” he replied, feeling quite injured.
Was she kidding? He was only the most popular and best-looking person in Hogwarts, and she didn’t know his name?
“Hello, Blaise. Am I right to say that you are a Slytherin, and also good friends with Draco Malfoy?” Luna asked, staring at him with large eyes, which was frankly disconcerting.
Blaise nodded.
“Well, I have a proposition for you…”
~
When Blaise heard Luna’s theory on Draco and the Weasel girl, he had a hard time keeping his face straight. If there were ever two people whom he thought would kill each other before dating, it would be them. They were constantly quarrelling, though now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen them doing so in a while. Come to think of it, she was one of the few who could truly cause Draco to lose his cool. Not that this was a good thing.
At the end of the day, Blaise didn’t need much persuasion. He loved schemes of all kinds, the sneakier the better. Given that this one was against the King of Scheming himself, a.k.a. his good friend Draco Malfoy, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Besides, Draco couldn’t fault him for partaking in a plan that was for his own good, could he?
“Those two are so pigheaded, they’ll never admit anything,” Blaise explained to Luna. “What you have to do is force them.”
Luna’s eyes got very large. “You mean like Veritaserum?”
“I was thinking something more along the lines of locking them in a broom closet until they admit it, but that works too. Or jealousy; jealousy always works. What have you done so far?”
“I gave Ginny a dippetberry bracelet. It helps to overcome one’s inhibitions and prejudices,” she explained earnestly, when Blaise just stared at her, open-mouthed. “But it didn’t work. The dippetberries were probably too old or something.”
“Hmm.” Blaise was tactful enough not to say anything dismissive. After all, they were working towards the same end. “Anything else?”
When Luna told him about the owl, Blaise couldn’t help but marvel. This girl had some guts writing to Lucius Malfoy. The man still gave him the creeps.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked. “Can we make them admit they’re in love before Malfoy graduates from Hogwarts? I know Ginny will be devastated if nothing happens, even if she does pretend so well sometimes,” Luna added with a concerned sigh for her friend.
Privately Blaise thought that Luna was off her rocker for thinking that the Weasel Girl was only ‘pretending’ to dislike Draco. Then again, as he thought about what Luna had told him concerning the events of the past weeks, it occurred to Blaise that, in denial or not, Draco had been happier and he had a sneaking suspicion that it actually might have something to do with the Weasel Girl.
“Well, it can’t hurt to try,” he conceded. “But with Draco, you’ve got to be a little sneaky…”
~
Ginny had been rather relieved when Luna had promised to stop bothering her and Draco about each other if they’d go for one last counselling session.
Now Ginny sat in a cushy chair in the Charms classroom, quite happy that she would no longer have to defend her views on Malfoy. Luna had gone all out (she probably felt bad about the whole thing, especially as Draco still had NEWTS to study for), with hot tea and shortbread and soft fluffy chairs for them to sit on. It really wasn’t bad. The worst that could be said about the situation was that it was boring; Luna had gone on at length about the importance of chemistry, and was now talking about overcoming childhood prejudices.
Ginny took another bite of her shortbread, and then another. It was really quite delicious.
She sneaked a look at Draco, whose eyes were slightly glazed over, and fought a giggle. He looked positively angelic when he wasn’t wearing a scowl. It had occurred to her that despite all his complaining (which he loved to do), he had been surprisingly sweet about the whole thing, agreeing to humour Luna (some of the time, at least) when he could have just told her to bugger off.
“Now, on to the questions!” Luna said brightly. “The first question is whether you find each other attractive.”
“What? How is this relevant?” Ginny demanded, the chunk of shortbread that she had been holding freezing in its trajectory towards her mouth.
Ginny understood (from a purely disinterested, objective viewpoint, of course) that Malfoy was incredibly drool-worthy, and she also knew that Luna knew this. In fact, Luna had gotten Ginny to admit this to her not long ago. Why was she pushing the matter now?
“If you’d paid any attention at all in the last ten minutes,” Luna stated with a small frown, “you would know that attraction is very important in any relationship. Shall we start with you, Gin?”
“I went first the last time; I think it’s Malfoy’s turn.”
Ginny knew she sounded childish, but she did not want to admit in front of Draco that she found him attractive. She could lie, but then she’d always been bad at it, and then Draco would know. Obviously, Luna was being downright evil wanting Ginny to reveal this embarrassing bit of information in front of the Slytherin. It was true that Luna was her good friend, but Ginny was going to maim her someday; she swore it. If looks could kill, Luna would be six feet under by now.
“Fine.” Luna turned to Draco. “Malfoy, do you find Ginny attractive?”
Draco took his time, letting his eyes wander over Ginny before speaking. What he’d intended to say was, Well, she’s not as hideous as her brother, I suppose. But what came out instead was, “Much, much more than I should.”
The tea that Ginny had just sipped promptly came spraying out of her mouth. “What?”
Draco himself looked equally shocked at his comment.
Luna hid a smile, taking advantage of Draco’s confusion to ask him another question. “That is to say, you think she’s hot, right?”
“Yes, you have no idea what dreams I’ve been having—”
Suddenly, Draco slapped his hand over his mouth and turned towards Luna accusingly. “You’ve drugged me with Veritaserum!”
Luna considered him placidly. “You catch on quick.”
“Luna, how could you!” Ginny cried, outraged that her friend had so thoroughly betrayed her and had stooped so low to do it.
She’d really thought that Luna was losing patience with this scheme of hers. But, then again, when had Ginny ever known Luna to give up on anything? In retrospect, Ginny thought she should have known that it was too good to be true. Still, she couldn’t deny the tiny shiver of pleasure that had shot through her at Draco’s admission. It always felt nice to be wanted, and she couldn’t help wondering what kind of dreams Draco had had.
Luna gazed at Ginny with an air of martyrdom. “You’ll thank me someday, Gin. Now, where were we?”
“Like I’m going to sit here and let you take advantage of me!” Draco retorted, trying to stand up, but his legs suddenly felt as heavy as lead.
“There might have been something in the shortbread as well,” Luna informed him.
Draco let out a groan of exasperation and then turned to Ginny. “This is all your fault!”
“What do you mean, my fault? I’m a victim too!”
“If you hadn’t kept giving in to her—”
“Don’t fight, children,” Luna interjected. “I’ve only got two questions for each of you, and then you’re free to go. Deal?”
Draco glared at the blonde. “Don’t think Professor Flitwick won’t be hearing about this tomorrow morning.”
Luna dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Let’s just say it’s a less potent version of Veritaserum; one no one has thought to ban in schools. Anyway, let’s get on with it. Gin, I believe it’s your turn. Do you find Malfoy attractive?”
“Yes,” Ginny whispered, thanking her lucky stars that she didn’t say more.
With the knowledge that there was Veritaserum working against her, Ginny had at least had time to prepare a truthful answer that didn’t totally strip her of her dignity.
“And are your feelings towards Malfoy the same as they were three weeks ago?” Luna asked.
“What do you mean?” Ginny responded, avoiding the question.
The simple answer was no, but to say it without giving an explanation might give Luna the idea that she liked Malfoy. Which she most certainly didn’t.
Luna, however, was not so easily fooled, and took the opportunity to make it known.
“After lengthy observation,” the blonde remarked, “I’m more positive than ever that you and Malfoy are meant for each other.”
Ginny shot her a look of disbelief, prompting Luna to continue.
“Oh, don’t pretend. I saw you staring at him during lunch the other day; you looked like you wanted to eat him alive.”
“Luna!” Ginny was horrified, although she didn’t care to examine whether it was at the thought of wanting to eat Malfoy alive (figuratively) or the fact that Luna was telling Draco this.
“Well?” Luna asked. “Do you deny that you were mentally undressing him with your eyes?”
Ginny was forced to answer, though she avoided looking at Draco and resolutely stared into her tea as she did so; she knew he’d likely be sporting a self-satisfied smirk.
“No.”
If she had looked up, she would’ve seen the way Draco held his breath when Luna asked the question and the spots of pink that appeared on his cheeks at her answer. In fact, if she had thought about it at all, she would have realised that he had been strangely quiet throughout the exchange, making no smarmy remarks or boasts about how all the girls loved him.
Luna, meanwhile, had not been so oblivious. Humming as she pretended to jot down notes, she surreptitiously observed Draco’s reaction to Ginny’s answers.
Pupils dilated, check. Uneven breathing, check.
Success! The sexual tension was so palpable now that she could barely stand to be in the same room as the both of them. It was like a ticking time bomb – it was only a matter of time.
~
It was fitting that NEWTS ended on the Friday just before a Hogsmeade weekend. Draco spent his Saturday with his friends, admiring the new brooms for sale and cleaning out Honeydukes. Spent, they then went to The Three Broomsticks for a mug (or ten) of Butterbeer. Snape wouldn’t mind as long as they didn’t embarrass themselves or Slytherin house.
Settling back in his seat with a mug of Butterbeer, Draco contemplated his newfound freedom. Now that his NEWTS were over, he was home-free – soon to leave Hogwarts for good. It was what he’d been looking forward to since his first year; he was ambitious by nature and had wanted nothing more than to leave school and prove himself in the outside world. Now, however, the thought of leaving Hogwarts filled him with dread for reasons that he didn’t want to examine.
“What’s up with you, mate?” Blaise asked as Draco’s head snapped towards the entrance of The Three Broomsticks for the tenth time, as it had every time the door opened.
“Nothing,” Draco said sullenly.
Blaise took a swig of his Butterbeer. “I’m so glad we’re done with Hogwarts.”
Draco grunted.
“Just think, we’ll never have to see any of those Gryffindorks again.”
Draco shrugged. “It’s a small world.”
“Not that small. No more Hufflepuffs, no more Potter, no more Weasleys…” Blaise paused, noting with some satisfaction that Draco’s napkin was balled tightly in his fists. “They probably won’t remember us after a while, anyway,” he added after a moment.
Draco downed the rest of his beer, looking quite miserable. He suddenly wished he’d got firewhisky instead of Butterbeer. He needed something stronger. The thought of never seeing Ginny again made his stomach curl, and the thought that she might forget about him altogether was frankly terrifying. They could almost be considered friends now, but so what? It wasn’t like they would write to each other after he’d left. There were plenty of guys in Hogwarts, and he had seen the way they looked at Ginny. She would be snapped up in no time. Not that she was his to claim, but, still, the thought of her going out with another boy left a sour taste in his mouth.
She had a wicked sense of humour, quite compatible with his. And she was very easy to talk to; he never felt like he was being anything other than himself around her, though she never shrunk from telling him off if she felt he deserved it.
Most importantly, he would miss her company, and could not bear not seeing her again. In fact, he thought, it would be nice if he could see her all the time.
It was then that Draco realised he was in love with Ginny Weasley.
Immediately put on guard, he considered the possibility that Lovegood had drugged him with a love potion, but ruled that out. He wouldn’t put it past her to do something like that, but he had fallen victim to love potions too many times not to recognise the symptoms. The feelings they stirred were passionate and sudden. This… thing with Ginny had been more gradual. Now that he thought about it, every night for the past week he had been going to sleep with thoughts of her in his mind. And not in a naughty way either, which was a first for him. Did he have a chance in hell with her? She’d revealed that she was attracted to him, but how much could that possibly count for?
Could he really leave Hogwarts without giving this a try?
~
Ginny Weasley was in a terrible mood. Although her exams were over, she wasn’t feeling the jubilation that everyone else felt necessary to express in loud and obnoxious ways.
She had come to realise that she was kind-of-maybe-sorta in like with a total prat who would never look twice her way (except to insult her). In addition, she would probably never see said prat again, and this had sunk her mood entirely. The whole revelation had come, most fittingly, from a casual chat with Luna as they ambled through the pebbled streets of Hogsmeade.
“Gin, about the Malfoy thing… I hope you know I really was only doing it for your own good.”
“I know, Lu. It’s sweet that you care enough to do something. But, really, there was no need.”
“But there was no harm, right? Anyway, you’ll never see him again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. Malfoy’s already in his seventh year; he won’t be at Hogwarts after graduation. This is probably the last time you’ll be seeing him ever.”
Ginny had felt like she’d suddenly been doused in ice-cold water. The panic that had shot through her at Luna’s words revealed that Luna had been right all along – she was in love with none other than Draco Malfoy, git extraordinaire.
It had thrown her off-balance, and she’d spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze. It didn’t help that things had been strained between her and Draco since their last counselling session. He’d admitted to having dreams about her, but then boys were boys and couldn’t really help such things. It did not mean that he was going to suddenly declare his love for her or anything like that. He was going to leave Hogwarts and forget that she ever existed.
Luna had noticed her abrupt change in demeanour, and, concerned, had suggested that she take a nice relaxing bath that night instead of her usual shower (“Nine is probably the best time; it’s after hallway traffic clears but not too late so your hair will still be wet when you go to bed”). Ginny thought it sounded perfect. At 8.50 p.m., Ginny grabbed her bath things and headed towards the Prefect’s bathroom, fully intending on spending the rest of the evening relaxing as far as possible.
As she turned the corner onto the corridor where the Prefect’s bath was situated, she saw a familiar snarky blond holding a black bath bag, also striding purposefully towards the bathroom. Her heart skipped a beat, but Ginny was feeling too self-piteous to care. She felt like she’d already lost him, somehow. She needed to wallow for a while; she’d been counting on an indulgent bath to lift her mood. How dare he take that away from her, especially considering that he was the reason she was in such a mood?
Oh, no you don't.
Picking up speed, she almost-ran towards the bathroom, intending to get there before Draco did. Only, of course, with the way her luck had been the past week, what actually happened was that she tripped and pitched right into Draco, whose arms came around her waist as the both of them slammed into the wall.
There was a sense of déjà vu about the whole thing. Hadn’t they been in a situation quite similar to this not very long ago? Hadn’t it, in fact, started this whole thing?
Except, this time, it was somehow different. It wasn’t just that this time they were standing, whereas previously she’d been sitting on him. They weren’t as physically close this time, yet this felt more … intimate, somehow: his hands loosely around her waist and her head barely resting against his shoulder. When she inhaled, she could smell the lovely peppermint smell that she had come to associate with Draco.
She chanced a look at him. He was looking down at her, his eyes a dark, intense grey, searching hers. He still hadn’t let go of her, and his breathing was harsh and uneven.
Ginny’s breath caught at the undisguised want in his eyes. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure that Draco could hear it. She wondered if he was going to kiss her. She had never wanted anything as badly as she did at that moment.
And then, ever so slowly, he bent his head towards hers. His lips were a hairsbreadth away when he murmured, “Don’t kill me, okay?” before lowering his lips to meet hers in a kiss that was as gentle and warm as it was passionate and intoxicating.
Just around the corner, Luna removed the Extendable Ears and passed them to Blaise, who listened for a while and then put them down, smiling smugly. “Told you it’d work,” he said. “Never underestimate the power of a Tripping Jinx.”
~
A few days later…
Luna chewed on the end of her quill as she considered her words carefully. Finally, she set her quill down to paper and began to write.
Dear Mr and Mrs Malfoy,
It’s me again, Luna Lovegood. As you have no doubt heard, your son, Draco, has got a girlfriend, the wonderful girl that I wrote earlier to tell you about. If you are wondering why your son has been smiling so much these days (though it’s a creepy look on him), look no further.
Anyway, I am writing primarily to call dibs on naming their first pink-haired baby. After all, much of their courtship’s progression can be attributed to me. Though young Bobby (or Snookie, if it’s a girl) may not appear for a few years yet, do not fret; I am working on it. As experience has shown, this means that it will happen soon. Cross your fingers!
Regards,
Luna Lovegood
P.S. Congratulations on your acquisition of Twenty-Four Carat Enterprises. I never knew that you could acquire a company jewel by jewel.
~
To Be Continued.
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