Returning the Favour

RETURNING THE FAVOUR

Ginny suppressed a growl of irritation as yet another uniformed figure blocked her path. Laden down with a heavy satchel, and with her arms full of library books, it was impossible for her to quickly swerve and avoid the offender. Instead, she had to stop sharply and deliberately edge her way round them while denying the urge to shout.

The summer weather had finally broken, bringing with it pouring rain and fierce winds that battered the walls of the castle and drove everyone inside. The corridors were crowded as a consequence, with students milling around between classes. Ginny was thoroughly tired of it already, and the thought that there were months and months of bad weather ahead did nothing to improve her mood.

Shifting the weight of the books from one arm to the other, Ginny dived around one figure only to collide with another. It did not help that everyone who was in fourth year and above seemed to be taller than her nowadays. Ginny had been waiting for her Weasley growth spurt ever since she was thirteen but it had yet to occur. It seemed that she was destined to inherit her mother's short stature and figure, much to her disgust.

The sound of chuckling filled the air. Ginny dragged her eyes upwards for the first time since entering the corridor. It was usually easier to keep her head down when tackling the throngs of students, and if she did raise her eyes it was normally to give someone a good hard glare to get them to move out of the way. Few people willing chose to get in Ginny Weasley's way. Unfortunately, as she lifted her gaze now to offer up a hard look, Ginny realised that the person laughing was one of those special number who would not just get in her way willing, but refuse to move once they got there.

"Aren't you a little old for ribbons, Weasley?" Draco drawled. His cool grey eyes were focused on the top of her head, his lips curled in a smirk.

Ginny sucked in a deep breath, opting to ignore the obnoxious seventh year. She did not have the time or the energy to fight with him - as much as she might have wanted to. Even so, the thought of taking some of the frustration she was feeling out on Draco was deliciously tempting. Visions of releasing a barrage of cruel comments on the Slytherin filled her mind pleasantly and Ginny had to work hard to push them away.

Jerking her eyes away from him, she looked down the corridor. To her dismay it seemed completely blocked. Even when she went up on her tiptoes, all that Ginny could see was a sea of people.

"Peeves!" she heard someone yell and nearly groaned. Considering the way that her luck was going so far, it looked like she was going to be stuck where she was - standing next to Malfoy while he waited for his class.

A hand brushed her shoulder and Ginny jumped, turning to glare at Draco. Her reaction elicited sniggered from the Slytherin students around them.

"What are you up to?" she snapped in a low and dangerous voice.

Draco raised an eyebrow, fixing an innocent expression on his features. "Me? I didn't do anything, Weasley. Why would I want to do anything to you?"

She continued to glare at him a moment longer, putting the full heat of her dislike for him into her eyes. The blonde seemed entirely unaffected however, and merely returned to smirking at her.

Ginny returned to peering down the corridor. In the distance, she could hear Professor Flitwick reprimanding Peeves. Hopefully the blockage would be cleared soon. She was already running late for her next lesson.

Something stirred her hair, almost as if someone had brushed their fingers over the loose curls. The redhead tensed and had to physically stop herself from turning to glare at Draco. From the peripheral of her vision she could almost see him, his leggy form leaning casually against the wall. He did not appear to have moved and she had to wonder whether to another of his little pack had decided to play along with the game of Tease the Weasley.

She gritted her teeth, keeping her eyes firmly forwards. When something tugged the ribbon in her hair, however, she could not stop the instinctive urge to pull her head away and almost immediately the sound of laughter filled the air.

A snarled barb on the tip of her tongue, Ginny turned to face Draco only to find that he had vacated the space by the wall. She spun around to find him strolling down the corridor away from her, holding court in the middle of his groups of friends. She frowned at the way that the other boys seemed to be inclining their heads to look at something Draco was holding and then shook her head. Whatever it was, it did not matter. She had a class to get to.

~ O ~

Ginny yawned silently, not bothering to cover her mouth as she did so. History of Magic was, as usual, boring and she was seriously beginning to regret opting to continue taking it for her NEWTs. There was a part of her that was seriously starting to doubt that Professor Binns had ever been capable of giving an interesting lecture - even before he had died - and the prospect of spending the next two years of her life studying the subject was daunting. She could not help but wonder whether the cause of Professor Binns's death had ultimately been extreme boredom.

Absently, she brought her hand up to play with the end of her ponytail, pulling it over her shoulder. Flicking the ends through her fingers stirred the memory of her encounter with Draco in the corridor prior to her lesson, and a familiar sense of agitation settled into the pit of Ginny's stomach.

Draco Malfoy was, without a doubt, the bane of her existence. Recently it had felt like every time that she turned around he was there, ready with a sly comment intended to anger or embarrass her. Indeed it had been happening entirely too frequently - so often that Ginny was beginning to nurture the absurd idea that he was purposefully seeking her out with the intention of annoying her. More than one person had commented that he seemed to have decided to replace the Trio with her as the object of his antagonism now that they had rushed off to play hero instead of returning to school.

In a way, Ginny had to admit that it seemed only natural that his attention turned to her now. She was Ginny Weasley, the only member of the family he hated so much that was left at Hogwarts and the beloved ex-girlfriend of his arch enemy. If Draco had not hated her then there would have been something unnatural going on.

That did not make it any less irritating that he had apparently decided to single her out. Indeed, if anything, it made it more irritating. Ginny was slowly developing an aversion to anything even remotely connected to Harry Potter. If one more person asked her what he was up to, where he had gone, why he had left her, or when he was coming back then she was coming to scream. Her relationship with Harry the year before had apparently earmarked her as a good source of information for the various gossips who stalked Hogwarts' halls.

On more than one occasion she had been tempted to feed them false information just to get rid of them for a while.

She realised abruptly that she had been tugging at her hair, her actions mirroring the annoyance she was experiencing. The action had made her ponytail come loose and she had no doubt that it looked far from tidy. An unfortunate consequence of possessing naturally loose curls was their tendency to turn fizzy when there was moisture in the air. While she did not have the same scale of problem as Hermione did, it was enough to make Ginny self-conscious.

Thankful that she had chosen a seat at the back of the class, well away from her professor's line of sight, Ginny reached up and tugged out the hair tie that she had used to bind her locks. It was only when she was stretching the tie over her fingers, ready to pull her hair through it once more, that it occurred to her that something was wrong.

Startled, she reached out and ran her fingers through her hair. As she had half suspected, no ribbon came loose and fell to the desk. A flicker of alarm ran through the redhead. She twisted in her seat, searching the floor for the familiar sight of the rich green ribbon with its delicate gold pattern. It was nowhere to be seen. Her heart thudded heavily, mournfully. The delicate and beautiful ribbon had been part of her last birthday present from Bill and now she had managed to loose it.

Unbidden, the memory of her latest encounter with Draco once again came to the forefront of Ginny's mind. She blanched remembering the slight tug she had felt on her hair only shortly before he had stalked away with his friends. Instantly, she knew what had happened to her ribbon.

~ O ~

By the time that Ginny made it out of Transfiguration at the end of the day and headed back to the Gryffindor common room, she was far beyond logical thought. All through her afternoon lessons, all that she had been able to think of was Draco and the precious ribbon that she was certain was now in his possession.

Silently, she bemoaned the fact that of all the ribbons that she owned, it was that particular one that the blonde Slytherin had decided to steal. She had dozens of them in her trunk - all different colours, lengths and thicknesses. They were presents from her various brothers who had yet to recognise the fact that she was no longer a little girl and that a sixteen year old had little use for such things even if they were pretty. In truth, she had always vaguely disliked receiving them. To Ginny's growing teenage mind, they represented an innocence that she had long since lost and reminded her that her brothers still saw her as a child that needed protecting. It did not seem to matter how much she achieved, she would always be viewed as the baby of the family - a fact that the redhead found aggravating at the best of times.

This ribbon had been special though. The glorious heavy length had been her sixteenth birthday present from Bill; and while she would normally have been quite annoyed that another year had gone by and her brother was still viewing her as an innocent child, she recognised that there was a special significance to this particular offering.

It had been Bill who had started the tradition of giving her ribbons as presents, sending her some back from one of his trips abroad when he had been unable to attend her tenth birthday party. At ten, they had seemed like marvellous exotic gifts from a brother that she no longer had the chance to see on a regular basis, and she had lovingly carried them around for weeks after receiving them. She did not blame her other brothers for copying Bill's idea. None of them could really be expected to know what a little girl, and then a budding teenager, might want as a present. The only exception to the rule was perhaps Charlie, who was mature enough to have some idea of what she might want, but who was away just as much as Bill and so was not present to witness the gradual changes in his sister as his younger brothers did. The ribbons were a cheap and easy solution, and Ginny reasoned that at least they were something that she could pack away while saying that she was waiting for a special occasion to wear them. There were plenty of worse presents that she could have received.

The green and gold ribbon had been different though. Wearing them made Ginny feel closer to Bill, and after nearly loosing him in the months before her birthday that seemed all important.

Besides, she knew what a task purchasing them must have been for him. Once handsome, charming and outgoing, Bill was now scarred and introverted. Going out in public had become a dreaded chore, as Bill was certain that people stared and pointed at him; whispering about him behind his back. That it was true did not help. Ginny had seen it with her own eyes, and had been forced to bottle up the rage she felt towards those who gawked lest she attracted even more unwanted attention. She could not imagine how Bill felt on those occasions. But she did know that he was leaving the house even more infrequently now than when he had first started to venture outside again after the attack. It was that fact which made the ribbon so special. Ginny knew that in order to purchase her birthday present, Bill had actually buried his growing discomfort with public settings and ventured into Hogsmeade one day by Floo.

It was maddening to think of Draco Malfoy with his grubby little paws all over it. Ginny doubted he would think twice about simply throwing the length away the moment he knew that she was aware what had happened to it. He had only taken it to taunt her, after all.

~ O ~

"You're distracted tonight," Neville observed from across the table.

Ginny paused in eating her stew and looked up at the shy young man. She smiled softly when she saw the characteristic nervous expression on his face. Neville was only truly comfortable when he was talking about Herbology, something which often opened him up to quiet ridicule from his peers. Recently, Ginny had grown increasingly fond of him though, since he was one of the few people who had not badgered her for news of Ron, Harry and Hermione. Besides, she had always harboured a certain friendly affection for Neville ever since they had gone to the Yule Ball together in her third year.

Slowly, she shook her head. "Just thoughtful," she replied, not wanting to admit that he was right. The truth was that she was distracted. She had been ever since she had walked into the Great Hall and spied Draco already ensconced in his usual seat at the Slytherin table. It would have been okay, she might have been able to ignore him, if he had not lifted his eyes to meet hers. For a moment, the rest of the hall had fallen away and all she had been able to see was the still grey orbs. Only nearly falling over her own feet had enabled her to look away. The roar of laughter that had followed from the Slytherin table had helped push her to her seat.

Neville offered her a small smile, accepting her answer. He did so with a simple trust that made Ginny think, for the thousandth time, that he was going to get eaten alive once he had graduated and had to make his way in the real world. It was a relief not to have him question her further, however, especially when she was all too aware of someone watching her from the other side of the room.

She glanced up sharply, trying to catch whoever it was. Irritation curled in her. All through dinner, she had been vaguely conscious of someone watching her closely, and she had more than a sneaking suspicious of exactly who the culprit was. The problem was that she had yet to catch him in the act.

Seemingly automatically, her eyes now sort out the familiar form of Draco. He was talking and joking with his housemates, just as he had been all through dinner so far. Indeed there was no indication that he had so much as glanced towards the Gryffindor table, let alone actually been watching her. A persistent little voice at the back of Ginny's mind remained resolute that he must have been the offender.

Angrily, she stabbed at a roast potato, still glaring in the blonde wizard's direction.

Before the events of her fifth year, she had never really hated him. In truth, while she had disliked him, regarding him as an arrogant little sod, she had always felt a mild sense of pity for him as well. Draco Malfoy was a victim of his circumstances - something which had become all the more apparent after Harry had told her of what had happened up on the tower. She could not hate someone for acting to protect their family - not while knowing that she would do anything to ensure the safety of hers. What she did despise was how he had gone about it. Anyone with even a semblance of a backbone would have gone to Dumbledore and sought help. Not Draco though, he had remained a snivelling little coward to the last.

She froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, as she saw the Slytherin gesture expressively with his hands about something. The sleeves of his robes had ridden up, exposing the pristine white cuffs of his school shirt, and revealing a familiar hint of green and gold wrapped tightly around his wrist.

Her fork fell back to her plate with a noisy clatter. Ginny jumped, stunned. She looked down sharply and groaned as she saw that she had managed to splatter her robes with gravy.

"You okay?" Neville asked.

"Yes," the redhead snapped in reply. The moment she heard the tone in her voice, Ginny regretted it. Looking up, she said, "Sorry. Ignore me."

Neville smiled tentatively. "I've got to go down to the greenhouses after dinner," he said. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Sure," Ginny said, still feeling terrible for snapping at him. Her eyes were once again focused over his shoulder, towards the Slytherin table.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Neville said, "What's so interesting over there?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, mildly embarrassed at getting caught.

Neville's eyes fell on Draco and he groaned. "Has Malfoy been bothering you again?" he asked.

She breathed out harshly - strangely reluctant to tell her friend what she suspected had happened. Under Neville's steady, friendly gaze, however, she found that she could not lie to him. Nodding, she said, "I think he stole my ribbon earlier."

Neville's dark eyes widened and he glanced quickly towards the Slytherin table again before looking at her. "Not the one you were wearing earlier? The one Bill gave you?" At her nod of affirmation, he added, "Oh, I'm sorry, Gin. What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know what I can do," she told him with a shrug. "He's hardly going to just give it back just because I ask but... Well, I don't see any other solution. I have to get it back somehow."

The boy across from her nodded slowly, understanding her dilemma, but did not offer a solution. Neville was hardly the great plotter that Harry, or Ron, or Hermione, would have been in the same situation. That said, Ginny doubted that they would have been much help now. The Trio were far from rational where Draco was concerned. Ron would probably have already stormed over to the Slytherin table and demanded the return of the ribbon if he had been in Neville's position.

She sighed, feeling powerless, and abandoned the remaining food on her plate. Suddenly eating was the last thing on her mind.

~ O ~

Sleep evaded Ginny that night. She lay in bed, with the covers pulled right up to her chin to fend off the early autumn chill, and stared up at the canopy above. The room was dark and nearly perfectly silent except for the occasional rustling of sheets moving or one of the other girls murmuring in their sleep. It was not enough to excuse the fact that Ginny was still wide awake. After spending the last five years sleeping in a dormitory with the same group of girls, she certainly should have been able to rest through the noise that they made at night.

No, the reason that she could not sleep was probably sleeping like a baby, safely tucked up in bed, several floor below in the Slytherin dormitory.

Her anger at him had yet to fade even though she had not actually seen him since dinnertime. If anything, it had actually intensified. She felt utterly helpless and it was not a feeling that Ginny was used to experiencing. Even her thoughts were conspiring against her. Every time that she thought that she had found something to distract herself with, the image of Draco with her beautiful ribbon wrapped around his wrist like some sort of banner or favour popped into her mind.

She groaned, flopping over onto her side and pulling the covers over her head. It was that picture which was plaguing her now, preventing her from going to sleep.

All through dinner, she had been unable to stop from glancing towards the blonde Slytherin, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ribbon just so she knew that she had not imagined it. Sure enough, time and time again, Ginny had spied it - so often, in fact, that by the time dinner was over, she was certain that Draco had been revealing it to her on purpose even though he had never actually met her gaze and challenged her. It was just the type of thing the arrogant little prat would do.

There had been a time, after she had first learned that Draco would be returning to Hogwarts, when Ginny had believed that the boy that she encountered would be a changed person. She had half fancied that his inability to murder Dumbledore would ultimately mean that he had switched sides. She had discovered quickly that it had just been fanciful thinking. The Draco that had appeared on the train station platform the first day of term had been the same strutting, bigoted, show-off that she had always known. Once she had realised that, Ginny had felt a huge wave of disappointment; and if she was completely honest then she would admit that she still felt it even now. No one could deny the potential that the blonde wizard had - could have, if he wanted to - and there was something ridiculously romantic about the idea of him changing sides that appealed to the girlish side of Ginny.

If Harry had known about her foolish daydreams involving Draco, Ginny had no doubt that he would have choked on his own tongue. The redhead often felt like doing the same herself - hating herself for getting carried away imaging something that she should have known would never happen. Now, once again, she seemed to be headed towards an inevitable confrontation with the blonde wizard and it did not surprise her in the least.

~ O ~

Rain spattered against the stained glass windows of the library, the occasional gust of wind creating a wet slap that tore Ginny's attention away from her assignment. She stared balefully at the glass; it was difficult enough to concentrate without any extra distractions. She was already starting to wish that she had tried to find a quiet, unused classroom somewhere instead of heading to the library. An empty classroom would not have had the books that she needed, however, so she was stuck. Worse still, she was stuck in such a position that it was impossible not to be aware of the fact that Draco was sitting two tables over.

Ever since he had entered the library, he had been shooting looks at her, daring her to meet his eyes before looking back down at whatever he was reading or writing. It was irritating to say the least. The last thing that she wanted to do was actually share a look with him and risk seeing that increasingly familiar expression of triumph.

Ginny stared at the large tome in front of her, the words blurring before her tired eyes. Sleep had not come easily the night before, and by the time that the redhead had drifted off the sun had already been threatening to rise. It had felt her feeling temperamental and even Colin and Neville had taken to keeping out of her way.

She blinked, and rubbed at her eyes to try and clear them while silently wondering whether it would be possible to move to another table - one situated deeper in the stacks - without the blonde Slytherin noticing. From the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed him look up again and dismissed the idea.

She might as well have been glued to the stiff and unyielding chair.

Unusually, Draco was seated by himself, and during those moments when he was not sneaking glimpse of her, he did appear to be making an effort at working. There were books spread out across the large table he had requisitioned, markers holding onto relevant pages, and he was engaged in scribbling something on the end of a lengthy-looking scroll. His head was bowed as he concentrated on what was presumably his homework, giving Ginny the ideal opportunity to cast sly glances in his direction, assessing the enemy.

It was clear to see that the months since he had fled the school at Snape's side had been kind to Draco. His body had once again begun to fill out - losing that wasted air that had hung around him during his sixth year. Indeed in many respects he actually looked healthier than Ginny had ever seen him look. He had grown, achieving a height that Ginny had never expected from him, and his shoulders had broadened so that he now had a rather impressive stature that formed a rather pleasant sight. His face, too, had filled out somewhat. The previous school year, he had begun to look gaunt, his cheeks sunken so that his already sharp cheekbones were severe lines, the look compounded by dark smudges around his eyes that had now vanished. Now though, his features were once again the epitome of aristocratic good breeding; they were handsome and confident in a way that he had no right to really be.

Ginny found the whole image rather irritating. She did not like to think about how smooth and clear his pale skin looked - or how bright and alive his eyes were with a degree of mischievous, calculating intelligence that she actually found rather alluring. It should not matter to her that the manner in which the fringe his white-blonde hair swept sleekly over his brow could make him look brooding and mysterious, or the way that the ends of his hair curled slightly on the collar of his shirt at the back was charming. She did not want to think about how soft and full his lips looked when they were not twisted into a cruel smirk.

She let out a long breath and pulled her eyes away from him sharply. It would not do to get lost in her thoughts and end up getting caught staring. What she had to do was remind herself of how nasty the svelte blonde wizard really was, and then there would be no danger of slipping back into such inappropriate thoughts.

A book thudded shut, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet of the library. It made Ginny jump, and when she jerked her eyes upwards to see who the perpetrator had been, she was not surprised to find that it had been Draco. As she watched, he packed away his papers into an expensive looking leather satchel, added a couple of books and then took some more in his arms. Turning, he stalked away, and Ginny was forced to dip her eyes as he came near her table. As he passed her, she allowed herself a sneaky glance out of the corner of her eyes and a gasp escaped her as she spotted a familiar piece of green and gold material trailing out of the bottom of one of his books.

~ O ~

At breakfast the next morning, Ginny found that her eyes automatically sought out the Slytherin table, looking for a familiar blonde head. She did not hold out much hope of seeing him however, since at weekends people had a tendency to drift down to breakfast when they wanted to rather than at a set hour like during the week. Ginny still searched the Great Hall with her eyes, though. She had long since given up on trying to forget about Draco - it was impossible with the knowledge that he still had her ribbon and that she still had not figured out a way to get it back from him. After he had left the library the night before, Ginny had been unable to concentrate on anything but the blonde. She had abandoned her homework entirely and returned the Gryffindor common room to mull over the issue, only to grow increasingly frustrated as an answer refused to present itself.

There was a flare of disappointment when she did not immediately see him, one that Ginny decided to blame to on her desire to get the ribbon back as soon as possible. She slumped into her usual seat, and carefully avoided meeting the eyes of anyone else already sat at the table. Luckily, everyone seemed to realise that she was wanted to be left alone.

Ginny lingered over her breakfast, deliberately taking her time by picking at her food and consuming two more cups of coffee than she would normally have. By the time that Draco walked into the room there was only twenty minutes left of breakfast and Ginny's muscles were twitching from the excess caffeine. She stalked him with her eyes as he crossed towards Slytherin table, trying not to notice the way that the black sweater he was wearing clung to his upper body or that the blue-black jeans fit snugly in all the right places.

Strangely, there was a part of Ginny that was not surprised to see her ribbon poking out of the back pocket of Draco's jeans as he paused to speak to someone. Only the end of it was visible but there was no mistaking what it was. She had no doubt that it had been carefully positioned in such a way so that there was no way that Ginny could not notice it if they happened upon each other.

"Why are you staring at Malfoy's... oh," Neville said softly from beside her. "You still haven't managed to get it back from him then?"

"No," Ginny snapped, still glaring at Draco. The familiar rage was building up again, only intensifying when she watched Draco's hand drift towards his back pocket and his fingertips brush the end of the ribbon. The movement was seemingly subconscious, but Ginny did not doubt that he had done it to draw her attention to the ribbon.

Something snapped inside the redhead, and Ginny felt the usually rational side of her mind beginning to get washed away by a rolling wave of annoyance combined with no small measure of frustration. She was weary and she wanted the weight of wondering whether there would ever be a solution as to how to get her ribbon back lifted from her shoulders.

Her fingers tightened painfully around her cup, and she forced herself to put it down in case it accidentally shattered.

In a hesitant voice, Neville said, "Maybe you should just forget about it, Ginny. Maybe... maybe it's not worth the trouble."

"It is," she asserted, a determined light entering her eyes.

~ O ~

In the heat of the moment, it seemed that all thoughts of actually making a considered plan had completely evaporated. The only thing that Ginny could think of now was getting the ribbon back before anything detrimental could happen to it. With a degree of single-mindedness she was vaguely aware was a little frightening, Ginny set out to waylay Draco on his return to the Slytherin common room after breakfast. She ignored the curious look from the other Slytherin students as they descended into the dungeons, passing the redhead where she waited on the stairs. She pointedly glared at those few who actually dared to speak to her. There was an odd sense of satisfaction in seeing them running down the corridor away from her.

"I take it you're waiting for Draco," a smooth, vaguely familiar voice said.

Ginny spun sharply, frowning when she saw Blaise Zabini stood before her. Taking in her expression, he continued, "You are waiting to try and get your ribbons back from him, aren't you?"

"Piss off, Zabini," she said, fixing him with a glare.

His lips twitched with amusement, and he said, "He should be along in a minute or two. It was a wise decision to wait until after he's had his morning coffee - Draco isn't exactly a morning person."

She frowned at him, somewhat bemused. "Are you deaf? Go. Away."

"Of course, he's not going to make it easy for you. But if it's any consolation you're making him lose a bet. He thought that you would last a week before giving in and approaching him. I guessed three days so I guess that makes me the winner. Pansy thought you'd attack him before the day was out."

"Piss off," Ginny growled, her faced flushing in a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. He glanced to her hands at her sides, noting the way in which they were being rhythmically clenched into fists, and held up his hands as if in defeat. Then he backed away down the corridor with exaggerated care.

Ginny turned so that she was facing in the direction of the Great Hall and jumped as she found herself nose to chest with a tall figure.

"Hello, Weasley," Draco drawled.

She looked up at him, suddenly anxious as she noticed the large forms of Crabbe and Goyle looming up behind him. They leered down at her from their higher step and Ginny realised abruptly just how foolish she may have been in attempting to confront Draco alone. She fought to steady her nerves, relieved when Draco gestured for the other two boys to carry on without him.

The flow of students from the Great Hall had slowed to a trickle - indeed Draco seemed to have been one of the last from Slytherin to leave. The unlikely pair drew a few curious glances but the majority of the students seemed unwilling to interfere in anything that they believed Draco was planning to do to the unwary Gryffindor who had crossed his path.

"Well, Weasley," he said. "I don't have all day. What do you want?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "You know very well what I want," she snapped at him. "Give it back."

Draco raised a shapely eyebrow, as if to query what exactly she was talking about. He crossed his arms over his chest, standing firm. "If I knew then I wouldn't have to ask," he replied, teasing her.

The muscles in Ginny's shoulders tightened painfully. She could feel her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands, threatening to draw blood, even as an almost undeniable urge to slap the false look of innocence from his features began to course through her.

Her hand twitched as if to do so, but then stopped. Instead, acting instinctively, she darted to the side and attempted to reach around Draco's back. The wizard moved sharply to one side, clearly surprised, and nearly stumbled off the step he was on. Ginny cringed as her fingers encountered nothing but denim and she realised that she had just grabbed Draco Malfoy's bottom. She lunged again, praying that her fingers would find the smooth fabric of the ribbon instead.

Draco leapt to the side again, deftly avoiding her fingers this time. An astonished chuckle escaped him, and he said, "Why, Weasley, I never knew you had such a fascination with my arse."

He danced around her third attempt, moving a few steps away and turning his back to her. It afforded her a decent view of the aforementioned region of his anatomy for the first time and Ginny felt her heart sink. There was no sign of the ribbon.

He smiled at her slyly. "Not that I can blame you, of course. It is a rather extraordinarily good example."

"I don't give a damn about your arse," she said, flushing even as she said it. A brief memory of fingertips on denim and firm flesh underneath ran through her mind and she pushed it firmly away. "Where is it?"

"What?"

"The ribbon!" she exclaimed. "My ribbon! I know you took it, Malfoy, and I want it back."

The smile on his lips twisted into a characteristic smirk, a cruel, playful light entering his eyes. "Which ribbon would that be then?" he asked. "Surely not this one?" He held his arm up, tugging down his sleeve to reveal his wrist.

Ginny's eyes widened, her nostrils flaring as irritation surged through her. "Give it to me," she snarled, holding out a hand.

Plucking at the end of the ribbon and gradually beginning to unwind it, Draco said, "You really want this ribbon? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm bloody sure."

"This ribbon?" he asked again, as if looking for clarification. He waved the ribbon around slightly, just out of her reach. If it had not been for the fact that she was beginning to feel increasingly distressed then Ginny thought he would have looked rather foolish.

"Yes," she said, with increasing frustration, watching as the ribbon ripple with movement. She felt like a cat, watching the ribbon dance around just beyond her reach and waiting for a chance to try to snatch it from the person teasing her.

"Why would you...?"

"Malfoy!" she cried, stamping her foot.

"Say please," Draco said abruptly, starting to wrap the ribbon around his knuckles.

It went against everything that Ginny believed in, submitting to a demand by a Malfoy, but she discovered herself nodding and saying, "Please."

He smiled at her gritted teeth and forced civility. "Come and get it, then."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, taking a small, quick step forwards while half expecting him to play some trick. She was not disappointed when he abruptly pulled his hand away, raising his ribbon-wrapped knuckles up over his head and out of her reach. Ginny stumbled, barely catching herself before she collided with Draco. She still ended up awkwardly close to the tall blonde wizard.

Her eyes travelled up the length of his arm, to his hand and the small length of green that still trailed from it. Even without trying, Ginny knew that it would be just beyond the range of her reach.

"Don't you want it?" he asked.

Ginny met his eyes sharply. "I said please," she reminded him. When he did not even give a hint that he was going to move, she added in exasperation, "Come on, Malfoy... What do you want?"

Draco eyes darkened, a flurry of thoughts running through them, and Ginny cringed as she realised exactly what she had said. Instinctively, she went to step away from him and began to contemplate drawing her wand. Obviously talking was not getting her anywhere so a bit of old-fashioned threatening and violence might work instead. Happily, Ginny harboured the idea for a few seconds before dismissing it. If she drew her wand then there was every chance that Draco might do the same, and the situation was bound to rapidly deteriorate from there. Before she knew what happened, Draco would probably have decided to destroy the ribbon.

His free hand snaked out, closing on her arm and pulling her back towards him before Ginny could put any real distance between them. Instantly, Ginny tried to pull out of his grasp, letting out an indignant squeak as she did so.

"Stop that," Draco commanded, squeezing tighter.

His tone and the subsequent action only made Ginny want to struggle harder. She twisted, trying to break his hold on her but only succeeding in turning herself around so that his arm was wrapped across her chest and he was flush against her back.

Ginny froze, breathing hard as she realised the position they were in. Draco's arm was heavy across her breasts, crushing them, and though the weight of his arm was not strictly painful, it did make it slightly more difficult to breathe. In truth, she was trying not to do so - concerned that he would notice exactly where his arm was. She was not sure that she wanted Draco thinking about that particular area of her body, perhaps even commenting on it - just as she was not sure that she wanted to think about the fact that she could feel hard muscles pressed all along the line of her back. Draco was apparently even more impressively built that she had suspected.

The redhead closed her eyes tightly, slowing her breathing and preparing herself to attempt to pull away again. It was only when she did so that Ginny noticed that the hand that Draco had been holding high in the air was now grasping onto her upper arm in an effort to hold her in place. Ginny kept her head bowed, and glanced down out of the corner of her eye so as to not alert Draco to what she was doing. Immediately, she spied the green and gold ribbon still wrapped around his knuckles. It was so temptingly close, and yet Ginny could not bring herself to dare try and reach for it.

"That was hardly fair, Weasley," Draco said, his breath stirring her hair. "You asked me what I wanted and then you were going to run away without giving me a chance to tell you."

"I don't think I want to know what you want anymore," she said defiantly.

His arm unconsciously tightened around her. "You'll listen if you want your scrap back."

She let out an exasperated sigh and said, "Okay, get on with it then, Malfoy."

To her surprise, he chuckled warmly and Ginny felt a strange pressure against her hair. It took several heart beats for her to realise that he was pressing his face lightly into the brilliant red mass. Ginny stiffened as he sensed him drawing in a deep breath. The rational part of her mind was telling her that there was no possible reason why he would smell her hair and yet all the evidence seemed to suggest that he was doing just that.

Just as she was about to open her mouth and tell him off, Draco surprised her further by releasing his hold on her upper arm. Still hugging her to his chest, the hand with the ribbon wrapped around it drifted towards her face. When he formed a fist, Ginny winced and tried to move her head away.

"For Merlin's sake, I'm not going to hurt you, Weasley," Draco murmured in what she supposed he believed was a soothing voice. Oddly, it did calm her a little. If Draco had been about to hit her then he would hardly have paused to deny it.

"Just relax," he added.

"That's easier said than done when... when some prat is trying to throttle you."

"If I was trying to throttle you then my arm would be around your neck and not your chest," he admonished her, his voice still deceptively soft. His closed fist touched Ginny's cheek and she jumped slightly, straining against his hold until she realised that all that he was apparently going to do was run the line of the ribbon over her skin. Baffled, the redhead remained standing perfectly still as he then slipped it along her jaw and up to her lips.

The material seemed impossibly smooth as it whispered over her lips, and Ginny breathed deeply, shakily. It was a mistake to do so, as Ginny was abruptly made aware of the distinctly masculine scent that belonged to Draco. It clung to him, but it also clung to the ribbon wrapped around his hand as well, imprinted there by days of being worn by the blonde Slytherin.

His hand twisted, his fingertips returning to brush against the pout of her lips. Strangely mesmerised by the action, Ginny whispered, "What are you doing?"

"Showing you what I want," he told her, the sound rumbling in his chest against her back. He sounded oddly contemplative, and there was something about the way that he spoke that suggested that right at that moment, Draco was the perfectly confident of achieving whatever it was he was trying to accomplish.

Ginny frowned, confused as she failed to understand him. Draco's fingers had moved down to her chin again. This time though, they lightly grasped it, turning her head so that she was looking back over her shoulder at him. His face was almost startlingly close, and he was staring at her so intently that Ginny felt as if she was in real danger of being scorched. The angle made it difficult to see, but she thought that she detected a slightly flush to Draco's cheeks - almost as if he was excited but was desperately trying to control it.

"Relax, Weasley," he told her again, and against Ginny's better judgement, she did just that. Her head lolled back against his shoulder, and Draco leaned forwards. She knew an instance before his lips touched hers what he was planning to do, but did not pull away. Rationally, she knew that she should do, but her body did not seem to want to cooperate. There was nothing rational about her current situation anyway.

The kiss was soft and teasing. Draco seemed hesitant, concerned about seeing too forceful, and Ginny could understand perfectly why. No doubt he expected her to cry out or begin to struggle. He had probably mentally prepared himself to leap away in defence, or perhaps even counter her attack. When Ginny did not immediately respond violently, a line of tension ran through the tall blonde wizard and betrayed his surprise. Ginny was more than a little surprised as well when her first instinct was to lean into the kiss rather than push him away. She even let out a small whimper in pleasure when his tongue brushed the line of her lips, as if seeking permission to part them.

At the sound, he sharply pulled away, breathing hard and looking at her with wide, expressive eyes. There was disbelief on his face, as if he did not quite believe what he had just done but none of the distaste that Ginny might have suspected that he would feel.

Ginny flushed, mortified at her response to the kiss and the eager little sound that had erupted from her. She quickly felt her ire return now that he was no longer touching her, distracting her. Her mind had not yet fully connected together all the information collected over the past few minutes, and she discovered that she was confused enough about what had just happened to feel defensive. Before she could growl anything at him though, Draco had grabbed her hand and was forcefully stuffing something into it.

Rather gruffly, he said, "There. There it is. Now fuck off."

Ginny blinked, the realisation seeping slowly into her that the blonde was apparently as confused as she was about what had just happened. The notion seemed incredulous, and yet there was no denying the uncertainty about the way that he was holding himself.

His mouth opened, as if to say something, but then he sharply stopped himself. For a moment, he peered at her long and hard, assessing her with skittish eyes. Then he turned and stalked away down the corridor, leaving Ginny behind to wonder what on earth had just happened while clutching the now nearly forgotten ribbon in one hand.

END