Cat & Mouse

"Who does she think she is?!" This from Draco. "I mean half the school would probably kill to have me even look at them and she turns me down after I spoke to her twice!"

"I have to say," Millicent said as they made their way to Charms with the Hufflepuffs, "if she wasn't a Gryffindor and a Weasley, I'd like her." Pansy and Blaise laughed while Draco gave her an indignant look. "It's not every day our Draco is presented with a challenge," she leaned in close to his face. It should have been intimidating, but he was Draco Malfoy. Malfoys are not intimidated, at least not easily. She rounded the corner saying, "Maybe he'll have to put a little effort towards his piece of ass."

Draco stormed off in front of them, towards their classroom.

"Oooh," Pansy commented, "He's got it bad..."

"Got what bad?" Blaise snorted, "Certainly not love. Not even lust!"

"No," Millicent answered, "typical male syndrome."

"He can't have her, so he wants her," Pansy explained.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

All throughout the lesson Draco huffed and pouted and and fumed like a spoiled child who didn't get the toy he wanted. The irony of the metaphor was not lost on any of the Slytherins, except maybe Crabbe and Goyle.

By the time lunch came around his rage had subsided into a cold, calculating desire. He would get that Weasley no matter what. Yes, she had been a pest when he mocked her, but that was to be expected. She was a Weasley after all, but to still act that way when he was nice! Well, as nice as a Malfoy could get. It was incomprehensible! He was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And Draco Malfoy got what he wanted. Always. And right now, he wanted the little red-head sitting just across the hall.

He didn't eat much, didn't talk much, just stared across the hall looking at the Gryffindor table, studying his prey. He was a cat (ironically enough) and she was the mouse. She could run; she could hide, but she was stuck in the castle, and so was he.

He stood abruptly, nearly startling the Slytherins around him. "Crabbe. Goyle." They followed, just like they were supposed to, still trying to choke down every last bite.

Just as he left the Great Hall, a scrawny second-year scuttled down the stairs, much to Draco's surprise and delight. Just as the young Gryffindor tried to avoid the big, bad sixth-year, Draco pulled him back by the collar.

"Abercrombie. I have a proposition for you," he smirked, the smile that said he was thinking very bad thoughts that would be most unpleasant for the other party. Like Harry's scar burning, it meant danger. "An offer I don't think you can refuse."

Crabbe and Goyle didn't bother to keep the smiles off their faces as they caught the drift of what party they were to play in this little bargain.

Abercrombie was shivering with fear, his feet a full foot from the ground.

"You see her?" Draco pointed to Ginny through the slight crack he had made in the heavy doors. "The one with the red hair?"

Abercrombie nodded. "Ginny Weasley."

"Good," Draco smiled, a pleased smile, but not a pleasant one. "Now, I want you to find out everything you can about her. What she likes, her hobbies, interests, what kind of food she likes, what she wants in a boyfriend, everything. You got that?"

He nodded, still hanging by his collar. "But why?"

Crabbe and Goyle took a step closer, their smiles getting wider and their fists clenching. "Now, do you really want to know that?" Abercrombie shook his head, not that badly.

"I want to see you in the library every night to report to me. In the Potions section. Eight 'o clock. You'll have a week to find me...satisfactory information." Abercrombie shot a nervous glance at the eager faces of Draco's companions. "Now is that clear?"

He nodded nervously again. "Yes, yes, sir."

Draco smiled again. "Good, good," he said as he set the smaller boy back on the ground. "I'll expect you at eight, and I don't like to wait," he called out behind him.

He had an informant. He didn't have the girl, but an informant was a good start. A very good start.