The Red Haired Weasel and the Amazing Bouncing Ferret

Draco Malfoy

October 27th 9:36 a.m.

Things are not progressing in the least bit the way I would have preferred.

First of all, it is nearly Halloween and I still haven't so much as made her smile. I've been too busy spending all of our study sessions focusing on not slipping that I know more than I claim.

Second, I seem to have lost the entirety of my dignity. By our first study section I had agreed not to use the words "Mudblood" or "Scarhead" and lost all privileges of insulting her family.

And third, she's made me swear never to approach her ever again outside of the studying, so naturally people think I made my move on Ginny Weasley and she turned me down.

Well, not the Slytherins, of course.

Except for Snape.

He and I had a run in yesterday which was more than a little embarrassing.

I could hear him approaching me, of course, so I quickened my pace, knowing what this would be about. But he was larger and predictably faster and caught up easily.

"Draco," he addressed me, falling into a step to my left.

"Yes, sir," I returned. I was still far from Transfigurations without a way to avoid this conversation.

Against my better judgment, I slid my eyes to his face and was appalled to see he was fighting back outright laughter.

At me!

Me!!!!

He cleared his throat. "I've heard, Draco, around your little spectacle a few weeks ago, and wanted to give you a little advice."

Advice?

From Professor Snape?

On women?

Someone, please kill me.

"Yes, sir." I swallowed back all hints of the revulsion that were dying to be showed.

"Perhaps it would be better if you would let her come to you," he informed me. "After all, you wouldn't want your reputation to suffer a blow just because you can't charm a Weasley." And then he made a turn and was gone.

Ha! I think I'll say that again. Ha! He too believes that I can't get her. Well, I'm going to show them all. I can, and will. After all, she's never been showed attention like that of Draco Malfoy. I'm certain to do her a world of good.

I guess I should get going. Classes in a few minutes.

11:46 p.m.

Well…

That was odd.

I have just returned from my most interesting study session yet, with the most bizarre occurrence having just transpired.

We were studying (with me, trying to ignore the fact that her face seemed to twist in anger every time I said her name), sitting on the cold stone floor.

"And then you add the holly," she finished, and shut the book flat.

I finished my scribbling and replaced my quill.

"Thanks," I said, forcing a grateful smile. I'd been trying to use manners around her and though they seemed to have no effect, you could never be too sure about these things.

She blinked, and for just an instant, her eyes locked with mine, and I was incredibly taken in with how unrepulsive they were.

That's a word!

It is too!

*Glare.*

ANYWAY...

Anyway, a piece of hair fell into her eyes, blocking them from my line of vision and, doing what any warm blooded young man would do in my situation (never mind that I'm not real sure what my situation IS) I reached out with my right hand and brushed it behind her ear.

And then just… forgot my hand was there.

I mean, I guess that's the only explanation since, for whatever reason, I just left my hand resting against her cheek caressing it.

It was inexplicable. After all, I saw clearly what I was doing. I knew that it was a bad idea, and if I had any intelligence in me, I would yank my hand back and leave it at my side for the rest of my life.

And yet, somehow, it remained there.

Ginny herself was reacting in an unpredictable manner as well.

Instead of jumping to her feet and yelling at me never to touch her again, she shivered at my touch and her eyes slid shut. She was visibly trembling, and yet slid closer, as though to draw nearer to my touch.

I should have been in control. It was one of the few things my father taught me that I didn't hate. And for whatever reason, I felt myself being pulled by some outside force, my lips somehow aching to rest against hers.

Another movement and her taste would be on my lips. I watched her carefully for some sign of disagreement, but in that instant, we were totally in sync.

I still don't know why I hesitated. After all, this is what I was fighting for, right? The romantic moments with Weasley would pave the way to a relationship and, later the 'L' word. But the point is that I did, and her eyes positively FLEW open.

Then she jumped to her feet.

"I'll, uh, talk to you later, Draco?" she asked, all the while, gathering her books and preparing to depart.

Still astounded by my lack of control, I simply nodded and waved her away.

She didn't even notice my rudeness, but disappeared around the corner.

And get this.

I was disappointed.

See, this is what bothers me.

Not the fact that I almost kissed Weasley. Not the fact that she looked like she might have enjoyed it (after all, that was BOUND to happen), but the fact that I couldn't stop myself from acting like an idiot, and that I actually… wanted to kiss her.

I hate Weasley.

I DO!

So why would I want to touch her in any shape or form? I should be terrified that she's going to dirty my robes.

This whole thing is curious.

Most curious.