The Wrath of Virginia

.:III:. Getting Acquainted

Malfoy nearly trampled her to the ground when he heard the click of the lock. She watched his feet disappear into the dim light of the cottage as she tried to move her arm so it wouldn't be so agonizing. And when that didn't work, she kept it close to her body to prevent any further injury.

"You're bloody welcome," she grumbled as she brightened up the room with her wand.

It was certainly grand, if not dusty, for a cottage in the middle of nowhere. But Ginny didn't much care at the moment about the décor, they could be in a palace or a shack for all she cared, getting rest was her goal for today.

It looked like there was only one bedroom, she resolved as she explored the small cottage, perhaps too small for a Malfoy. There weren't even any servants' quarters, as she half expected; but of course they'd have house elves, but there didn't seem to be any source of intelligent life except her, and Malfoy could hardly be considered an exception.

Before she could rest, she had to take care of the little problem with her arm, but how? Ginny had fixed broken bones before, but never had to set her own arm straight. How was she going to do this?

It looked like there was only one solution that wouldn't involve any more injury to her wrist: Malfoy. Actually, she hadn't even looked at it; from the pain and the crack Ginny had assumed that it was wounded. Maybe it wasn't that bad. She stopped her exploration of the cottage and lifted the sleeve of the Hogwarts robe.

Not too promising was her first thought. And here she was thinking that Draco Malfoy had done serious damage to her arm, to her. Perhaps she was overestimating his power and strength. Perhaps she had been too timid and cowered too easily in his wake.

She was suddenly enraged at everything. Malfoy for hurting her; the train for falling off its tracks for the first time in ten centuries; at Harry for proposing; at everyone for thinking that she was a weak little Weasley that had been manipulated by the memory of Voldemort. It pissed her off is what it did.

At that, Ginny stormed into what she assumed was the bedroom to find not Malfoy sleeping, she dearly would like to kick him awake from a greater distance. But Malfoy pouring over a book, she stiffened.

"Now you listen here, Malfoy--"

"Sshh," was his response.

"Listen, damn it!" she roared. Now, Ginny Weasley never really roared at somebody, screeched maybe, but never roared because now she had almost startled herself.

"What--?"

Stone colored eyes were focused on her own. Now that she had his attention, she almost forgot what she was about to shout at him.

"Fix my arm!"

"What?"

"You heard me!"

"I'm not--"

"You broke it, now you can fix it."

His eyes never faltered from boring into her own. It was turning into a staring match.

"I can't put it right on my own," She tried not to sound pleading.

"I don't see how that's my problem," he said blankly.

What was she going to do? Malfoy didn't care; there had to be one way to get him to do what she wanted. But the answer was in the pocket of her robes.

Ginny had forgotten that it was still there; the ring Harry had given her the last time she saw him. She slipped her ring finger through the cold gold of the ring; maybe luck would be on her side this time.

By now, Malfoy had gotten back to his reading of the old book and had acknowledged her existence as much as he would the dust bunnies under the bed.

"Malfoy," much to her astonishment, he looked up... eventually. "Set my arm right,"

She feared another staring match was in the future for her arm was throbbing painfully at each passing second, and she knew he enjoyed seeing her in pain, the glint in his eyes was unmistakable. She almost sighed but he replied with a blunt "Very well,"

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Ginny could still feel his warm touch on the skin of her arm, though for the most part it was numb. But the feeling was still there, keeping Ginny from her sleep on the floor of the small living area in the Malfoy Cottage.

It made her blood boil to see his satisfied smirk when she sharply took in a breath when he snapped back her arm. She hadn't even thanked him, not that she would anyway, Ginny had just got up and left the room Malfoy was currently occupying. She had to scream into one of the cushions on the sofa in the living room seconds after he snapped back her wrist.

She stiffened on the floor and pretended to be sleeping as Malfoy entered the room. Ginny counted the seconds as he shuffled through the room, obviously looking for something. Maybe even for her, since she wasn't in very revealing place where she pretended to sleep.

After an uneventful twenty seconds of more shuffling, Malfoy finally exited the room. It surprised Ginny that he didn't try to search behind the sofa where the heating grate was where Ginny relaxed for the moment, because the only reason that he would come into the living area that she could come up with at the moment was to hex her and send her on her way, for he already set her arm right, what more reason did she have to stay. Or perhaps she didn't want to go back at all.

Ginny was entertaining that notion when she heard a thump that came from the next room, Malfoy's room. Probably hit his head, she thought idly. It was then when her photographic memory kicked in trying to recall a moment where Malfoy was hurt from his own disgracefulness - nothing. She had no memory of him ever slipping, tripping, loosing his balance, walking into a wall, nothing. Malfoy, like the Malfoys before him, was completely graceful and suave when he walked around, even his small actions screamed of correct etiquette.

So whatever that was, neither Malfoy nor Ginny had caused it.

Ginny was steadily becoming more paranoid by the second. She was used creaks in the night after living in the Burrow for the last sixteen years, so she steadily made her way to the small hallway that lead to the only spacious room in the small cottage and poked her head in the door.

The moon gave the only light in the room, but she could make out a figure lying on the bed. Other than that no one else seemed to be in the room. Now highly satisfied, she stepped further into the chamber to have a look at the book Malfoy had been pouring over.

She had almost reached the oak desk when a glint caught her eye: it was thing moonlight hitting a liquid substance on his forehead, though she couldn't really see his features clearly from four feet away, but Ginny could clearly tell it was blood.

She realized too late that she had been standing where she was for too long when she was yanked backward towards the door. Warm fingers were slung across her mouth and middle before she could do anything to stop it.

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If that wasn't Malfoy on the bed then who is it? Perhaps a Death Eater? Harry? Ron? And was Draco expecting someone else? And why did Draco suddenly respond to Ginny's pleas? Do not fret dear Reader, this is just the beginning, there is action to come in the next chapter.

Tune in next time The Wrath of Ginevra wherever Internet may be available.

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And here it is, your moment of Zen:

"Space. It seems to go on and on forever. But then you get to the end and a gorilla starts throwing barrels at you." - Futurama