Beyond Therapy

Chapter Two: Unforeseen Circumstances

~*~

They had it in for us, didn't they?

Right from the beginning.

Who'd have thought that we were so important?

-- Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

~*~

Draco was not amused.

He first heard of it from a group of first year Slytherin girls, who were always giggling whenever he walked passed. He would always smile back engagingly because he thought they were cute little things and you never know which one of them would blossom and become a fine young thing in about three or four years time. So, to him, it never hurt to start establishing contact early. He saw it as an advance investment of sorts.

But that day, he felt his smile eroding when one of them asked him a strange question.

"Are you alright?"

She was sweet about it, and truly concerned because she had always hoped that young Malfoy might take a liking to her. This was a great opportunity to show some concern, and to shower him with some attention so that he might notice her back. That was why she asked him the question in the first place.

But Draco did not quite take it the same way.

Frowning and feeling truly puzzled, he asked her, "What is that question about?"

The girl looked as if she was taken aback by the less-than-friendly reply but marched on with her agenda nonetheless.

"You had an asthma attack the other day, didn't you? We all heard about it. I don't know much about it but it must be dreadful ... I do hope you are fine now."

Dreadful. Of course it was dreadful. And it was even more dreadful now that the entire Hogwarts population seemed to have heard of his Muggle-centric disease.

Thinking about the humiliation only served to make him angrier as he went from class to class. He felt his fingers digging into his palms when he thought about it, felt the sharp pain in his jaw where he had bitten his teeth together too hard, and the blood in his system boiled as if to lit each of his finger tips aflame, so that when he landed his hand on that darn Ginny Weasley, she could be sure that he would make her very sorry indeed.

~*~

It was well known that the Weasleys and the Malfoys had a long and extensive history of family rivalries, filled with verbal and physical abuse reciprocated through the ages. It all begun in 700 B.C. when a Malfoy ancestor accidentally chopped off the head of another Weasley ancestor in a fit of anger at losing a game of Charade. Therein started the long tradition of mutual slaughtering between the two families, unrestricted by the vast distances from villages to villages and continents to continents. The entire network of the family trees actively engaged in this tradition in varying creativity, from slicing, to chopping, to stabbing, and most memorably, the one incident in 632 B.C. when a Weasley dyed a Malfoy's hair red before sending him to burn in Hell. It was not until 620 B.C. when a certain Draco of Athens, who finally having realized the idiocy of the vicious cycle, enacted a number of legal reforms in his capacity as a prosecutor and put a stop to the previous justice system of 'you killed one of ours; we kill one of yours'. This Draco moved to make the state, instead of families and kin, the judicial agent in cases of murder and wrongful death. Also, he was credited with encoding the legal distinction between murder -- killing with what lawyers today call mens rea, or wicked intent -- and other sorts of deaths: manslaughter, culpable but unintentional killing, legitimate self-defense and so forth. This Draco was a distant great-great-great-great grand cousin, thrice removed, of our Draco's great grandfather. His name was Draco, son of Hector, otherwise referred to at that time as the 'sensible mind'.

If Draco, son of Hector, the 'sensible mind', thought that his introduction of the new judicial system was going to improve the situation, he was gravely mistaken. Long years of discords continued to triumph over harmonious co-existence. After all, no one could expect a tradition established through more than a century of violence to cease overnight just because a law came into being. No, the essence of tradition was continuity and it did just so, dutifully, for the next millennium.

~*~

No one noticed them leaving.

The Gryffindor common room was filled with life, as it always had been. Ron and Harry were in an intense game of wizard chess. Hermione was discussing the better uses of tealeaves in medicine as opposed to Divination with Parvati and Lavender. Dean was trying to poke at the fire grate and see if it would retaliate, and the rest of the House were just engaged in an all round euphoria because it was Friday.

The Slytherin common room was filled with life as well. There was the usual ritual of trial necromancy at the dark corner of the dungeon, and it never really worked. In the center of the room, Blaise was sitting among a circle of sixth years playing strip poker. Millicent was petting her cat, and Montague was devising a new plan to dissect animals for sacrifice rituals without soiling the coffee table top with blood. Those stains could be tricky to remove, and the sight of the blood got on Draco's nerves.

Unbeknownst to them both, the blond boy and the redhead had slipped out of their dormitories at the exact same time and were moving towards each other's direction from the opposite ends of the castle. They stopped at different sets of staircases and while Ginny was traveling down the steps, Draco was traveling up. He reached the castle door first.

The moonlight beamed down from the night sky, pouring onto the school ground, bright and mesmerizing. It was a beautiful night. Beautiful, and eerily ominous.

The trouble with trying to keep yourself out of sight under a twinkling night sky shining over a wide, smooth plane of an empty Qudditch field was that you sure as hell couldn't.

Draco pulled his hood up and strode down the path without stopping, except when he had to hide behind a wagon containing Hogwarts newly arrived winter supplies to avoid a singing Hagrid returning from his work at the storage room. Draco waited for a while to be sure that the school caretaker was gone before making a beeline for the Qudditch shed at the other end of the pitch and hoping against all hope that he would not be caught.

~*~

Brushing stray strands of her hair to one side, Ginny wrapped her cloak around her as she neared the castle door and stopped. She could see the tall form of Draco Malfoy moving down the path leading to their meeting place. She frowned and tapped her foot impatiently as she tried thinking of another way to go to the shed.

There was no other way.

So she waited until Draco was nothing but a small moving dot from where she was standing before she started out on her own. She kept close to the shades provided by the trees, which were not much, and quickly turned into the changing room, which was next to the shed.

In less than five minutes, they were standing there looking at each other, their arms crossed.

"So," Ginny asked as she fingered the wand she had in her pocket, "what is this meeting about?"

He eyed her cautiously as he spoke. "You stinking piece of troll dunk. You told everyone what happened!"

"What?" she responded, confused. She honestly had no idea what he was talking about.

"You," he said as he slid a hand into his left pocket, gripping hold of his wand. "You didn't keep to your words. Not that I expected you to, of course. Because even Gryffindors are lying spawns of the devil at the best of time. I wouldn't put it pass you to give up a chance to get back at me," he continued, his mouth beginning to screw into a sneer. "Well done, Ginny Weasley. But you will have to pay for it." He finished his vituperative speech and in one swift movement, pointed his wand at the girl and murmured the hex under his breath.

Ginny drew out her own wand immediately, but was not fast enough to duck the hex Draco had hurled at her. She took the blow and fell backward against the wooden wall of the shed with a loud thud before she managed to gather herself together and threw a hex at Draco in return. He ducked and she threw another one, and another one in quick succession done so rapidly that he had no time to hide. Two of the five hexes she threw hit Draco at the stomach and he doubled over on the floor, dropping his wand, but not before he managed to disarm her and snapped her wand into halves.

"Ungrateful bastard!" Ginny swore loudly at the blond boy at her feet before she picked up the broom left lying against the cupboard and swung it full-forced downwards, aiming for Draco's head. He looked up in time and whitened. He rolled over, standing up quickly as Ginny pointed the broom at him in a rage of madness. He took a step back away from her, noting that she had also broken his wand into halves when she swung the broom hard against it on the floor.

"What the hell are you - "

CRASH!!

He paused and spun around immediately, looking at the direction of the noise. At first glance, nothing peculiar seemed to have happened and he turned back, catching the sight of Ginny looking at him, her eyes wide.

"What the bloody hell did you do, Weasley?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed and she glared at him.

"Oh, really nice of you to ask, Malfoy. I didn't do anything!"

Draco rushed to the door, where the noise came from and tried to jerk it open. It did not oblige. Ginny came along at his side and shoved his hand off the doorknob. She rattled the knob, pulling and turning it to no avail. It was clear that something had jammed the doorknob at the other side of it.

Draco tried to peer through the gaps in the door to figure out what was happening and saw a huge wagon piled with tons of heavy wooden chest, thrown right in front of the door. He then tried to push the door again but it was futile. The door was not only blocked by the large Roman edifice of a doorstopper, it was also old and stuck and in a state of decrepitude, as tested and proven when the knob fell off at Draco's manhandling.

"Malfoy!" Ginny gasped in horror as she looked from the knob in Draco's hand to the now properly damaged door.

"Bloody hell," Draco swore.

"YEEEEEEEE HAAAAAAA!!!!" a familiar shrilly voice called out.

Peeves.

"BLOODY FUCKING HELL!" Draco yelled skyward in irritation, and tried pulling at the knob. Except there was no longer a knob to be pulled. In a moment of anguish, Draco started kicking and banging on the door.

By his side, Ginny muttered a stream of profanity under her breath, and glared at her feet, blinking in disbelief at the plausibility of having to be stuck in the same room with Draco Malfoy for an extended period of time.

Draco was horrified at the same thought too. He tried to pull the door open instead of pushing it but in either way, it was still stuck. He placed his right foot on the wall beside the door and pulled as he might, the door refused to open.

He turned and glared at Ginny.

"You! It's always you!" he spat, growing evidently mad.

"Oi, last time you were with me, I helped save your life, alright? But trust me, it won't happen again," Ginny said and shot him a dirty look.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Draco hissed at her face, and after giving the door one last kick, he strode to one side of the shed, sat down and looked daggers at Ginny. "Next time it happens, I would rather die than to be stuck with you in this bloody place."

Ginny sighed, and matched him glare for glare while she sat at the opposite side of the shed.

Draco drew his knees up, hung his arms over them and started plucking at the pile of broom twigs on the floor.

No one said anything for a long time.

~*~

Back in the Slytherin common room, Blaise had just ended his game of strip poker after Malcolm stripped to his birthday suit. It was a disappointment really because he did not stay in the game for two hours just to watch Malcolm lose every round with deliberation so that he could get the chance to pole-dance along the leather sofa in front of the fireplace.

Tired and deprived of the actual show he had been expecting, he looked around the dungeon for Draco, thinking that they might be able to get some homework done together. Doing Divination homework alone was utterly boring. Not to mention, you ran out of ideas fast when there was no other person to help feed your creative mill. But Draco was nowhere to be found.

Blowing out a breath of irritation, Blaise went back to the common room, stood for a moment contemplating a castle-wide search for his friend before he shrugged and sat down for another game of strip poker, this time without Malcolm.

And if you were wondering what Hermione was doing in the Gryffindor Tower, well, she's still arguing with Parvati and Lavender over the tealeaves.

There was indeed some truth when they said Slytherin had more fun.

~*~

Evil never sleeps, and virtue is ever vigilant.

Ginny dared not nod off to sleep, not when she was stuck within proximity of a Slytherin. Especially a Slytherin with Malfoy as his last name. You never know what they could be up to. And she would never trust him more than she could throw him and that wouldn't be far.

As the clock ticked, she started absentmindedly picking at the twigs of the broom she had laid on her lap. It was the same broom she tried to hit Draco with and she was keeping it near her just in case Draco was to try anything funny. But after two hours of being stuck in the same room together, he still did not seem like he was making any devious plans against her and she was fast getting bored.

Frowning a bit, she pulled out a bunch of twigs and began chucking them at Draco.

"Ugh," Draco swept the flying twigs away from his face and stared at Ginny. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"If I'm going to be stuck in here with you," she said and shrugged, "I might as well give you a hard time."

He continued glaring at Ginny while he reached behind his back and grabbed a handful of twigs.

"Very well then, Weasley."

"You wouldn't dare..."

And with that, Draco chunked the handful of twigs back at Ginny.

"You did! You're going down, Malfoy!"

Ginny gathered the pile of fallen twigs off the floor, walked over to Draco, and scattered them in his hair.

"What the --"

"Not so pretty now, are you?"

Draco scowled, picked up the chunk of twigs and flung it upwards at Ginny.

Ginny chuckled as she blocked the attack of the twigs. "That's not very effective. You don't seem to be really interested in beating me at the game ... Wait a minute," she said, glaring again, "I'm supposed to be mad at you."

"Really? That makes two of us," Draco sniggered, reached out and caught Ginny's hands before she could have the chance to chunk another handful of twigs down his head. He pulled her down with him and threw another handful of twigs down her head before she could retaliate.

"Hey!" Ginny shouted indignantly, brushing straws off of herself.

Draco laughed out loud at the sight of twig-covered Ginny while she glared threateningly at him. Without warning, she shoved a clump of straws in his face, snickering.

Caught by surprise, he heaved and coughed out some of the straws that got into his mouth.

"You! You -- " he coughed and pointed at the redhead accusingly, in a not-so-nasty manner.

"You, you, you what?" the redhead mocked.

Draco glared and coughed in an uncontrollable manner, spitting out pieces of straws from his mouth. He wanted to swear at the redhead but could not manage it while he was coughing. As a result, he settled for the internationally recognized form of wild finger pointing.

" ... Malfoy?" Ginny asked and disregard the rude gestures as she started to get worried. "Oh, you're asthmatic ... I forgot ..."

Draco continued coughing hard, with his face down, ignoring Ginny.

"I haven't gone and killed you, have I?" Ginny asked and started smacking him on the back with perhaps a bit more force than necessary.

"Ugh - gentler, can-you-Weas-ley?" Draco managed between coughs.

"Oh, err ..." Ginny had the grace to look contrite and patted his back lightly this time.

When Draco finally finished coughing and sat upright again, Ginny still had her hand awkwardly placed on his back, not quite knowing what to do, and out of nowhere, he muttered something under his breath that sounded disbelievingly like thanks.

Ginny raised her eyebrow at him in surprise.

"Not 'get off me!'?" she asked and stared at him, then realized where her hand was and promptly took her hand off his back.

Draco glared. "Take it or leave it, Weasley. I'm not saying it again."

Ginny rolled her eyes in response. "That's the Malfoy I know."

Draco ignored Ginny, stood up and started walking round the shed, looking for an alternative way out of the place. His eyes roamed the room and landed on a small window at the high end of the wall. He could not fathom why he had never noticed that before. Stepping up on the bench, then the shelves and finally standing on the top of a cupboard, he reached up and tried to push the window up, but it resisted. He jerked it forcefully for a while before the window suddenly slid up in one smooth, if not loud, movement, revealing a small opening that was as big (or as small) as Hagrid's shoebox.

Ginny jumped at the loud bang, and her eyes followed Draco's every move.

"You think we can fit in and get out through there?"

He turned and did a sweeping glance at Ginny.

"I know it's kind of hard to believe that a troll-sized witch like you can squeeze through this thing," he said and pointed at the opening, "but I guess we can always try."

"You little bastard..."

Draco did not wait for Ginny to finish. He took a leap up and with his Seeker reflex, disappeared through the opening before Ginny could bat her eye.

"Hey! I'm shorter ... I can't get up there! Come back!" she started screaming. "If you leave me here, I swear I'll mess you up so badly your mother wouldn't recognize you!"

There was no response.

~*~

Ginny stomp her foot and sat down on her legs, sniffing a bit. She looked around the shed, took in the quiet, dust-ridden atmosphere and shuddered. It was late, and dark outside and there was not a single soul in the vicinity that could offer her any help. No one, except Draco, who had disappeared without caring if a wild beast were to charge in and tear the young girl asunder.

"Life's lesson number one. Even if he's nice for a split second there, Malfoy is, and always will be, a total arsehole!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Ahem!"

She turned quickly at the sound of another person and saw Draco pop his head in at the opening.

"I heard you."

Ginny tilted her head up to look at him, astonished.

"You know, precisely because you're shorter, I don't think you'll stand a chance jumping off here at this height," he said with his finger pointing downwards, signaling the height of the window to the ground. "Besides, you're wearing a skirt."

"Oh," Ginny said, looking at her feet.

"Now come on, it's late and I want to get back to bed," Draco said impatiently as he turned to check if anyone was around. He did not wish to be caught with Ginny Weasley, wandering outside the castle after curfew. He turned back again, saw Ginny still standing at the same spot and asked, "Or do you need help getting up here?"

"Well ... I can't exactly reach..."

Draco pulled himself further in through the window but kept half his body hanging outside and held out his hand. "Get on the bench for a start, and I'll get you once you are nearer the cupboard," he said and yawned nonchalantly.

She stood on the bench, and jumped, grabbing onto the shelves with her hands, dangling there for a bit, trying to pull herself up. Draco reached out further and grabbed Ginny by her left hand.

"Now, careful with your right foot."

Ginny climbed up, stepping on the tall pile of crates and finally succeeded in getting on the shelves with Draco's help.

"One more step. The cupboard. Get up here and I'll get you out."

Ginny climbed up on the cupboard and crouched under the ceiling.

Draco reached out his other hand to balance Ginny by the shoulder when he saw her standing unsteadily on the wobbly cupboard. "Stay still," he said. "I need to move out a little to help you out here." He lifted his hand from her shoulder and asked, "Can you stand still? I'm not going to carry you if you fell and broke a leg. Stay still. I'm going to let go of your hand now."

"Yeah..." Ginny said, raising her eyebrow at him.

Why was he being so nice all of a sudden?

Draco did not take notice of Ginny's raised eyebrow, and proceeded to pull out of the window. She tilted her head to one side, watching him as he moved out easily. He seemed to be standing on something because she could still see his face outside the window.

When he beckoned her to move, Ginny carefully reached for the opening, trying not to fall off the cupboard. She was about to lift her leg over the window ledge when she stopped suddenly, biting her lower lip.

"Right then..." Ginny hesitated to take Draco's hand. "I'm, err..."

Draco looked at Ginny's distressed expression and remembered she was wearing a skirt. He took one of her hands into his and made a hundred and eighty degree turn facing away from the window. "Climb now, Weasley. And be quick."

Ginny obeyed, taking Draco's hand and held on like grim death, feeling glad that he was not looking up her skirt.

Draco stood there, blindly figuring the way to help Ginny out of the window. Eventually, he gave up and decided that she could figure out how to grab him wherever it was needed, and so he left both his arms swung upwards and backwards, and adjusted it in whichever way Ginny was holding on to him.

Just as Ginny thought that she was getting the hang of it and easing her way out of the window, she lost her footing and knocked right into Draco. She grabbed on to him by reflex and they fell from the stack of crates Draco was standing on.

"Ugh poof!" Ginny fell on top of the boy and knocked the air out of his lungs as they both landed on the ground prematurely.

"Gerroff!" Draco managed to force the words out of his throat.

"Gaah!" Ginny exclaimed and scrambled up, putting a distance of a few feet between them, with one hand on her wrist where she had twisted it when she fell.

Draco was rubbing his chest to try to ease the sharp pain caused by the fall. Ginny Weasley wasn't heavy -- in fact she was quite light -- but falling at such a height had caused an impact big enough to induce pain anyway. He winced as he moved and realized that he had also hit his back during the fall and thought.

Damn it. I must be looking like a human question mark now.

He could not have been more accurate with his assessment. He was certainly bent, but not at all curious.

"Are - are you alright?" Ginny asked tentatively from where she was standing.

If Draco hadn't known better, he would have thought that Ginny sounded pretty concerned. But if truth be told, Draco really didn't know any better. Ginny was being genuinely concerned, but a Slytherin would never take that without a pinch of scepticism.

"You broke my spine," he said accusingly. "After you tarnished my reputation, you rotting little piece of --."

"I did not tell anyone about what happened!" she answered, indignant that her credibility should be in question.

"You did! Everyone in Hogwarts knows about my asthma now. You are the only one who was there!"

"No, Zabini was there too!"

"He wouldn't tell! He knew it for over ten years now and he never told anyone!"

"Well, then, err," Ginny fumbled around for explanations. "I can't be the only one who saw what happened! There were people around! I don't know why everyone knows now but I didn't tell anyone!" she launched into full-swing self-defence of her integrity, with hands waving about and huge blinking eyes and probably a halo over her head, if she could manage.

Draco watched her, and for some strange reason, he believed her. He gave up trying to make her confess to the crime and shifted his elbow, trying to get himself up from the grass and failed. He fell back on the grass and lay there tiredly, looking up at the vast night sky. He was beginning to count the myriad of stars when a freckled fair face popped into view, looking down at him. He looked back and wondered why she was still there and had not yet turn to go back to her dormitory but the curiosity did not linger on because pain generally demanded for more attention. Pain only concentrated on itself, and it did not give a damn about the rest of the world, and certainly not why the irritating someone was still hanging around.

He watched as she kneeled down beside him quietly. Surely she did not think that it was fun to stay around and poke fun at his current state of spinal agony? Because if she did, he would be sure as hell to get his exquisitely manicured hands on her throat.

"Hey," she said and jabbed her index finger into his shoulder. "Why aren't you moving? You're not paralyzed, are you?" she asked, a guilty expression fluttered across her face and then came back and pitched its headquarters there.

"Well, what are you going to do if I tell you that I am?"

~*~

If the long line of Malfoy descendants before Draco had known what was actually going to happen on a bright and cheerful Saturday morning, in the impeccably clean Hogwarts infirmary years down the road, they would be rolling in their graves, tunneling their way out of the hardened soil and trying everything within their power to stop it from happening, except they were not in any feasible position to do so.

Draco looked around the infirmary and noticed with dismay that it was filled with nothing but beds, trays, dull-looking utensils and the smell of burning herbs. It was only fifteen minutes since he had woken up in the unfamiliar bed -- with sheets that smelled of antiseptic, and dressed in possibly the most repulsive flannel pyjamas of blue and white stripes ever to be sewn -- and he was already in an agony of ennui. The fact that Ginny Weasley was in the bed opposite him did not, in any way, serve to ameliorate his misery.

He sat up on his bed, staring blankly at the open copy of the Daily Prophet that hid his face from the girl opposite, and recalled how they had managed to make it to the infirmary the night before. He remembered being dragged upright by the Weasley girl (who had no regard for his pains at all) and supported by her small weight all the way back into the castle and up the infirmary. She had unhesitatingly dropped him onto the nearest bed by the infirmary door (again no regard for his pains at all) and was about to turn and leave when Madam Pomfrey summoned her back for an explanation.

As it turned out, Draco was not the only victim of their grand episode. Ginny had a broken bone at her wrist and another nasty bruise at the end of her skull where she had hit against the wall when she fell back from the impact of Draco's hex. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she stay in the infirmary as well, much to Draco's horror, and try as she might, Ginny was not able to escape. The school nurse would not take no for an answer and had promptly marched her to a bed and proceeded to regrow the broken wrist bone.

After Madam Pomfrey had fixed the both of them up properly, Ginny had asked for the curtains to be drawn around her, as if he would try to pounce on her if the curtains weren't blocking her out of his view. In return to such a gesture, Draco had also requested for his curtains to be drawn to give himself the privacy to rest. Privacy, until at least when Madam Pomfrey woke them up at eight and took away the dividers. Then, she had left them both in the infirmary as she went off to the Greenhouse to stock up the supply of Etunnop - nasty flesh-eating plant but very effective in killing bacteria.

So, for the rest of the morning, they hid behind their copies of the Daily Prophet until the sounds of a wheeling trolley announced the arrival of their breakfast.

"Thank you," Ginny said to the house elf that had delivered the food tray to her bedside table.

Draco, on the other hand, did not even acknowledge the presence of the house elf when it laid his tray cautiously on the table before scampering away with fear. Draco frowned at the eccentricity of the servant before turning back to his breakfast. The first thing he did before he started his food was to turn the cup into its correct position, with the handle of the cup facing left because he was left-handed. Then, he stirred in the milk and two cubes of sugar. It was a moment before he realized that the furious tinkling in the infirmary was not entirely from his own preparation of his morning tea. Ginny Weasley was stirring her cup of tea cheerfully, with perhaps a little too much energy than was required for the task.

"Quiet, can you, Weasley? That is very irritating," he said without looking at her.

"Oh, really?" Ginny answered brightly and continued stirring her cup of tea with more enthusiasm, the sound of the contact between metal and glass echoed loudly in the infirmary.

In return, Draco jammed his teaspoon hard into the cup and started stirring the tea with vim. There were many things in life that he simply could not stand and being deemed the less irritating party was one of them.

Before they knew it, the two were engaged in a collaboration of a symphony you wished you would never have to listen to, consisting of only the percussions. Draco flicked his wrist at high speed, hitting the side of his ceramic cup with much force, glaring at the Weasley girl opposite him, ever determined not to lose out in their competition, whichever form they might take.

But after a minute or two, Ginny suddenly decided that she had generated enough foam in her tea and stopped. Picking up her cup, and looking unruffled, she took a slow sip of tea, glancing coolly at Draco over the rim of her cup.

"That was so immature," she commented with an air of superiority as she lowered her cup.

Draco shot her a death glare.

"It takes one to know one," he answered and stopped stirring his own tea, feeling strangely deflated from the sudden halt of the competition.

Dropping the spoon on his tray, he ignored Ginny and picked up the fork by the plate to poke at the yellow spheroidal mass of the eggs, spreading the half-done yolk all over the plate. Then, he took a piece of bread, broke it and swiped the smaller piece with the yolk.

"Ewww, that is so disgusting," Ginny remarked, pulling her face

"This," he said after he swallowed, "is the correct way to enjoy eggs and bread."

"Ugh!" Ginny's face crumpled at the sight of Draco having his breakfast. "Why do I have to be stuck in a place with you?" she lamented.

"You sounded as if I'd like to be stuck in the same place with you."

"Most people would rather stick their face in a dragon's arse than spend a moment with you!" she snapped at him.

"Well, you are spending the morning with me now," he answered after a sip of tea. "Oh, and throw in last night too. Now go and stick your freckled face into a dragon's arse while I am still here to witness it."

"Ew, stop that! You are the most foul-mouthed and detestable person I've ever met!"

"Yeah, well," he answered, unperturbed, "you forgot good looking. And charming, and talented and clever and handsome and I think I said the last one before, but it's worth repeating the truth."

"Argh!" Ginny looked as if she was on the verge of pulling off all her hair. She glared at the blond boy opposite her and continued, "I have a very strong urge now to shove your face into and through a shredder. I thought you should know that."

"I don't care about your hobbies, Weasley. Just do it in your own time, and do it quietly," he answered and did a deliberately elaborated swipe of his bread in the yolk because it seemed to irritate her so much.

"You are absolutely horrid!" she snarled and started cutting her bacon with the knife in a way that looked as if she was sharpening it. "I cannot believe that for a moment last night, I thought you were at least a teeny weeny bit sincere about thanking me!"

Draco raised his eyebrow and leaned forward with his right elbow against the edge of the table.

"I was raised to be charming, not sincere, Weasley," he said before he sat back again and pierce a piece of sausage with his fork. "You can forget about me ever thanking you, because now all thanks to you, I am lying in the bloody infirmary waiting to be bored to death. If anything, you should be the one thanking me. I got you out of the shed."

"I don't have to thank you for anything. You owed me that one," she replied as she chewed on her bacon and pointed her fork at him. "If I knew this day would come, believe me, I would have left you to die in the toilet!"

"Sometimes, I wished you did too. Then I wouldn't have to be here with you in the first place."

Ginny snorted inelegantly. "You didn't seem that smug when you were dying the other day."

"Are you suggesting that I am afraid to die?" Draco asked as he bit on his toast. "Well, it's not that actually. I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens."

Ginny laughed sardonically in return. "Bullshit, Malfoy. That is the same thing. Bet you are afraid of dying because you know you will end up in Hell."

"You sound as if Hell was a bad place. Come on, obviously some people have to go to Hell. You don't want to cause overcrowding in Heaven, do you? And if you and Potter and Co. are going to be there, I wouldn't ever want to set foot in Heaven," he answered.

"Good. At least that is something I can look forward to. A time when you will be completely out of my world. I will start praying to God that I will not see you when I go to Heaven."

"So sure that you will end up in Heaven? Saint, aren't you?" he said.

"Definitely not as wicked as you are, Malfoy," she spat his name out.

"You know, wickedness is nothing but a myth invented by good people, for a lack of a better word, to account for the curious attractiveness of others."

"Are you trying to tell me that you are attractive?" Ginny made an action as if to gag. "You are nowhere near attractive. In fact, you are such a cause for a sore eye I won't even grace you with more than ten seconds of my attention span!"

"Ah," he said, "but I did get the first ten seconds, didn't I?"

"My foot!" she replied and fumbled over her words for a moment. "I bet the ten seconds were spent glaring at you and hoping that looks can kill because ... because god knows I'll be saving all the small defenceless animals you've been killing and decapitating as a hobby!"

"Oooo, I love defenceless animals. Especially when served with a nice plate of sizzling pepper sauce sprinkled with rosemary," he answered with a wave of his fork. "Not that I expect you to appreciate the art of fine cuisines. Your family probably had trouble finding some tapioca to eat. Now, you reminded me of that baby rabbit in mushroom sauce I ate in ..."

"You are sick," she hissed and threw him a dirty look. "It's people like you who're messing up the world and killing innocent people at the expense of fulfilling your megalomania pure breed utopia."

"Uh uh," he replied and shook his head. "We are trailing into the realm of futile political debate. The bottom line is, the war doesn't determine who's right, just who's left," he answered matter-of-factly. "The strongest shall rule and the weak shall serve. That is the way the world works. Deal with it."

"Rubbish! If only I could wipe that stupid ideology of yours off the face of the earth, we would all be able to live in harmonious peace!"

"Listen, Weasley," he said as he put down his fork. "Nobody in their right mind would want world peace because there is no such thing. Picture this, if we could just get everyone on this planet to close their eyes and visualize world peace for an hour, to imagine how serene and quiet everything is, I am sure we will all be in a paradise of bliss until somebody gets bored to death! Then we can all panic."

"What a load of bullshit! It's people like you who cause all the troubles we are having now. Think of all the troubles caused by you lot of selfish, evil dark wizards. Name one that isn't caused by the dark wizards."

"Witches?"

"Argh! You are impossible!" Ginny screeched and threw her pillow at Draco.

He took the whack straight in the face, smiling, feeling the warm satisfaction of a job well done.

"Thank you, thank you," he said as if he had been addressing a Ministry election. "I'll take that as a compliment, Weasley."

"You think you are so smart with your stupid mouth when you are actually nothing! I'll tell you, Malfoy, you are nothing but a shit load of - "

"Tsk tsk tsk, you've got to stop indulging in your sanctimoniousness. You Gryffindors think that you are so perfect. Let me tell you this, people who think they're perfect are very annoying to those of us who really are."

"Bastard."

"Now, now, no need to get agitated," he drawled, obviously enjoying the morning now. "Here, how about a piece of bread?" he said rather than asked and waved the piece of bread he had dipped in yolk.

~*~

They conducted their conversations as though one was standing on the tip of Mount Everest and the other person who was talking was on the coast of Pearl Harbour. Their loud squabble not only exemplified a measurable distance between them, geographically and communicatively; he was also sure that culture shock figured somewhere in the equation.

Blaise stood where he was, observing the duo's bickering and chuckled softly under his breath. He did not know if the two were aware that their conversations were silly and somewhat entertaining to a bystander. Clearly, Draco wasn't in need of his company, he thought. Still laughing softly under his breath, he stepped back slowly, careful not to give away his presence in the infirmary. Just as he was about to turn and leave the two at it, the infirmary door clicked open and a girl with bushy brown hair walked in.

She paused when she saw him, her eyes filled with suspicion, before she nodded and looked away. He found that gesture strangely intriguing and definitively rude, but he decided to let it go.

She cleared her throat once, still not looking at him, and that was when he realized that he was blocking her way. The front of the infirmary was narrow, not because it was built that way but because of all the old, discarded sheets and pillows Madam Pomfrey had stacked near the entrance. They tried to move out of each other's way and it was awkward because all they managed to achieve was to block each other's route in various new ways. Finally, Blaise could not suppress his silence anymore and spoke.

"Look, maybe we should both head out."

She raised her head to look at him and she sounded cautious when she replied him.

"I'm here to see Ginny if you don't mind."

"She's not awake yet," he lied. When she glanced at him, her expression was doubtful. He explained, "I came to see Draco and they are both still in bed. Pomfrey says they will be up only at noon. Side-effects of the medication procedures."

She tried to tip toe then, to look over his towering frame and steal a peek at the inside because she was sure that she could hear voices. But he shifted deliberately to block her view and she gave up, sighing. She looked at her watch, then back at the infirmary before giving the dark boy another suspicious look.

"Somewhere else to be, Granger?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She did have somewhere else to be. She was running late for her prefect meeting but she wanted to make sure that the younger girl was alright. Besides, she promised Ron that she would help check on his sister on his behalf because he was held back in a morning session of detention.

As if he had read her mind, Blaise said, "She's fine. I'm sure it will be just the same to come back later when they are awake."

Blaise had no idea why he was lying to Hermione about the two being asleep. It just seemed like a better idea than having her barged in and put a stop to the bickering inside. He was a boy who often worked on his instinct, and his instinct was telling him to get Hermione out of the infirmary. So he moved forward slightly and made as if to leave, which forced Hermione to back step out of the door.

Once outside, he turned and closed the door lightly. When he looked up, Hermione was already walking away. He watched the girl as she walked further and further away, and wondered why people were always so quick to judge members of the other Houses even before proper introductions. Shrugging inwardly, he pushed the musing aside and started off to the Great Hall for breakfast.

~*~

Hermione jogged down the staircase hurriedly, rushing round the corner in a desperate race of time. When she reached the classroom where the meeting was held, she paused to compose herself, thinking about how weird the meeting with Blaise was before she knocked on the door twice and entered.

She knew who he was. His name was Blaise Zabini, the Chaser on the Slytherin team. She saw him at the matches. He was in the same year and always seen around with Draco Malfoy. She heard that they were childhood friends. And no doubt they were. He sent off the same dangerous vibes, just as Draco Malfoy did. Pureblood wizards in the same league, she thought. Must be another in-breed moron, though perhaps not as irritating an in-breed moron as Draco Malfoy. In Hermione's memory, she had never saw nor heard Blaise utter the same bigoted rubbish Draco was often vocal about. In fact, he never seemed to say anything at all. Not that she knew of anyway. Not that it mattered.

Nonetheless, that boy made her acutely uncomfortable. He might be dark, and tall, and handsome, but he was all that in an annoying sort of way and so she hoped, as she sat down at the table, that she would never had to encounter him again. Something at the back of her brain told that it would not be a good idea at all.

~*~

"Aw, come on, just eat the bloody piece of bread."

"Stop that this instance!" she shrieked as she tried her best to push the boy's hand away.

Draco sniggered. He was having the time of his life trying to shove the piece of bread, soaked with egg yolk, down Ginny Weasley's throat. The sight of her crumpling face and desperate resistance was indeed invaluable. He was sure that if he could manage to get the bread in her mouth, she would present him with an expression so painful that it would never be forgotten. He would then immediately imprint the moment in his memory and made it a family joke to be passed down the succeeding generations of Malfoys. His ancestors would be proud of him, he thought. Another gold star for striking down a Weasley.

"Draco Malfoy, I'm warning you! Get AWAY FROM ME!" she screeched the last part, hitting a high pitch so sharp that Draco winced, feeling a nasty throbbing in his head.

"Stop screaming, and -- ARGH, what the fucking hell are you doing! Get off me!" he yelled when Ginny, in a fit of anger, sank her teeth into his wrist. His fingers snapped open wide from the pain and the soggy piece of bread dropped to the floor, forgotten. He frantically tried to shake her bite off his flesh, but Ginny was not going to let him off all that easily.

"Argh, argh, arghhhhhhh! Weasley, let go! You idiot!" he screamed.

Apparently, yelling and jerking his arm about was not the best way to shake Ginny off. The redhead had a death grip on his arm and bit even harder as he struggled.

"Ahhhh, help! Somebody HELP ME!" he yelled again as he tried to pull away. "Mad woman! Mad woman in here!"

"Who are you calling a mad woman?" she let go of him finally and asked, her eyes blazing. "I'm not the insane person trying to force a bread down someone's throat in the first place!"

"Ugh," he took a step back, shaking his arm. There were not one but several rows of teeth mark on his flesh, and they were steadily darkening in a rainbow of purple and red in varying shades. She had also managed to tear off a piece of his skin with her teeth that left the small flap of almost transparent skin hanging limply on his arm. Grimacing in pain, he snatched a wet towel off the bedside table and pressed it over his wounds.

Ginny, on the other hand, did not look the least bit sorry for what she had done. Instead, she was feeling a strong sense of achievement that usually only comes when one were to be given an opportunity to receive an award for outstanding public service. As far as she was concerned, biting and ridding the world of the young Malfoy was as close as a public service could get. She never knew that hurting someone could feel so darn satisfying. Perhaps, being a Slytherin was not all that bad, especially if it meant biting Draco Malfoy to death for the rest of the century. If only she could just be allowed to do that, she would die a happy girl.

Draco bit his lip as he tried to will the pain to subside. His head snapped up, and he clenched his fist in rage, glaring at the redhead before spitting out his words.

"Bitch!"

Ginny looked wrathful at the greeting.

"Who are you calling a bitch? Bastard!"

"Shut up or I swear I will - "

"You will what?" Ginny retorted, but was cut off when Draco made a sudden lunge at her, aiming for a hold of her throat. She clipped her arms together and struggled, trying hard to block and shove off Draco's attack.

"What are you -- ! Stop it!" she screamed and scattered backwards in her bed.

Draco's face was flushed from fiery and he cursed at her, looking completely mad. He tumbled back a little when she gave him a hard shove but was determined to get back at her for biting him. She might have saved his life once, but he had returned that favour when he helped her out of the shed, so everything was fair and square now. They could go back to hating each other properly.

But events had a strange way of working themselves out.

He took a quick step forward, prepared to strangle the Weasley girl to death when he stepped on the soggy piece of bread he had dropped on the floor.

And slipped.

Ginny gasped as she watched him fall forward towards her. Momentarily, she did not feel like she could move or duck and there was no time for that anyway. Later, she wished so very much that she would have at least tried shifting an inch because even the slightest change in angle might have prevented what was going to happen.

He knocked right into Ginny and landed in her bed, stretched out on top of her body. His face looking down at hers. His lips on her lips.

Draco's eyes widen as he realized what had happened. His natural instinct would be to spring off of her and proceed to disinfect his mouth with multiple brands of detergent and detoxicating agents. But natural instinct seemed to have run away from home at that moment. It was as if they had barged into another world together, a world that blocked out the current one and nothing made sense anymore. All that made sense was the spark he felt, the slight shiver down the spine, the quickening heartbeat He did not move, could not move. And she did not move either. As if his organs had a mind of their own, he pressed his lips on hers, just for a split second, as he wondered how it would be like to kiss Ginny Weasley. Why was he wondering about that, he could not fathom. Maybe he thought that would be the ultimate way to piss her off. Which was reasonable to a certain extent, if that was what he really meant to do.

Ginny stared at him, eyes wide with shock and at a loss of what to do. Push him off! she told herself but the mind had a way of making their own decision. She remained completely still and she let him kissed her. Not that it could be considered as a proper kiss per se. It was really just a peck, but all the same, it had the unexpected effect of making her confused and incapable of reacting in the appropriate fashion immediately. She should shove him off and slap him. Failing to respond in the manner that she thought she would make her panic. Frustrated to the point of tears, she squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a shuddering breath before she could gather all her strength to react the way she wanted to. She placed both her hands on his chest, her mind resolute, and gave him a hard push.

He snapped out of his outlandish moment when they lost their lips contact. He fell back and tripped over his foot, falling hard against the next bed, his shoulder hitting the metal rail of the bed with a loud thump.

She gasped again, and covered her mouth with her hand, appalled to see that she had pushed him a little harder than she had intended. She watched him as he flinched and groaned in pain, struggling to get up. For a second, she leaned over her bed and made as if to help him but she hesitated and then retracted that thought. Sitting on her bed, she shut her eyes as a sense of nausea overcame her and she physically retched without meaning to.

Draco looked scandalized. His eyes darted to one side and with one hand rubbing his sore shoulder, he slowly stood up and leaned against the bed. At the moment, he pretended to be very interested in rubbing his shoulder into dust, as if the amount of dust generated, if any, would form a screen smoky enough to blur out what had just happened.

Ginny continued to look miserable, which would have elated Draco if he had been aiming at achieving that. Well, he had been aiming towards making her miserable, but certainly not in the way that it had just taken place. Nervously, he cleared his throat loudly to break the uncomfortable silence that was fast stretching too long for his comfort.

She looked up at him, her expression dilemmatic at first. Then the confusion was wiped off her face, and was replaced with a look of utter disgust.

"Get lost!" she spat at him, her eyes narrowed with anger.

"Why? Did that get to you successfully?" Draco answered nastily, picking up the Slytherin momentum again.

"GET OUT!" she screamed at him.

For reasons that he would never understand, he obliged. Without a word, he strode off and it was not until he reached the door that he turned back and told her.

"This is my infirmary as much as it's yours," he said loudly, still in the spiteful tone. "I'm leaving now only because I can't stand the sight of you. Just so you know." And with that, he turned again and walked out of the infirmary.

~*~

Draco walked down the hallway, still rubbing the ache in his shoulder and grimaced. Why the hell did he do that? He had to ask himself. He should have removed himself immediately, he thought. Feeling utterly downcast, he shuffled along the corridor for a while before leaning his forehead on the wall, knocking against it twice. If there were any means to tunnel into the ground, he would do it without a second hesitation and make sure to cement the surface so that he would never have to face the world again.

That was the part that he could not understand. Why was he feeling embarrassed over something as trivial as this? It was just an accident. It was not even a great deal. But it was not only the embarrassment. There was something else, something he could not put his finger on. The closest he had come to understanding it was to compare it to the way he thought he would feel if the Falmouth Falcons were to decide to drop out of the Qudditch League without his consent: feelings of utmost misery, bitter loss and unexplainable betrayal. Which did not make sense at all. Shouldn't he be gloating now that he had managed to get to her in such an ingenious manner? No, it wasn't planned that way. Though that was the only ironic consolation -- that he should have had gotten to her all the same. And he supposed whichever way it was, the end justified the means, even when the means was not intended.

Turning around again, he wanted to go to the Great Hall, be in some crowd, engage in some interesting conversation that would take his mind off the frightful feeling he was having. But that was before he realized that he was still in his flannel pyjamas. Cursing under his breath, he loitered along the deserted corridor before he decided that he had no other choice but to head back to the infirmary, especially since he thought Madam Pomfrey might be expecting to see him there when she got back. Dragging his feet, he forced himself to walk back to the infirmary despite just being out of the place for barely a while, or at least it felt that way.

He tried to eradicate that terrible feeling of guilt, in which laid another set of dreadfulness of an entirely different nature. It was awful really. Since when did he grow an extra set of conscience? It was starting to make him anxious. He wasn't supposed to have any conscience, and if anything he should be glad that Ginny Weasley was feeling miserable now. He tried to search within himself for the usual disdain he had towards her but all he got was a running sense of confusion. Why did he return to help her anyway? It was such a good opportunity to leave her there, make her go through the stillness of the night alone or perhaps even set some wild snakes into the shed to spice things up a little. But he did not do any of that. And he did not know why. That was the devil of it.

He paused at the door for a while before he braved forward, striding into the room, making sure that his footsteps were loud and clear, announcing his re-entrance as if to prove a point. But if he had previously been worried about the prospect of seeing Ginny Weasley after their bizarre interlude, his fear was found to be quite unnecessary. Her bed was empty and she was nowhere to be seen in the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey raised her head when she saw the Slytherin boy.

"Where have you been?" she asked sharply, her hands at her waist, looking threatening in every way in her capacity as the school nurse.

Draco did not answer her. He was still glancing at the empty bed, puzzled. Surely he would have seen her leave when she left the darn place. But then again, he mused, he did not see Madam Pomfrey coming back to the infirmary either. They both must have used the other hallway that linked to the infirmary.

The nurse frowned when her question was ignored.

"Ginny Weasley has been discharged earlier," she said. "Now if you would just stay in your bed and not move around anymore, I would be able to attend to you shortly and you would be discharged if I were to find your recovery satisfactory. So why don't you move along to your bed now, Mr Malfoy?"

~*~

Lucius Malfoy had his own idea on how this world functioned. And that idea he never failed to impose upon his only son. Right from his conception, Draco had been listening to all the preaching about power, and triumph of those who knew to seize an opportunity when they see it. Lucius, it seemed, held an advanced view that proper education should start right from the beginning and for all the good it did, he repeated the same speeches every night to his wife's blooming stomach.

It seemed to work though. Draco did grow up to be a very calculative person. Like his father, he believed in the strength that came with power, as it were, and saw the importance of being a proper wizard who knew what was good for him. What was not good enough could be dispensed without regard. The world was divided in that way, his father always said, in a way that housed two camps and you were either on one side or the other and Draco was born to be on the powerful side. There would be great things destined for him if he knew the way to get there. And if that meant that he had to be what other people called it, evil, then so be it. At the very end of it all, evil was just an adjective. It did not have any meaning at all, and if it ever bothered him, he supposed he could always give it a new name and call it Catherine.

So Draco grew up in this way, where he was told to be evil because that was the way to gain power and so forth. It was a very straightforward formula for young Draco, and he believed so very strongly in it because he had listened to it all his life.

The only problem was -- Draco's formulaic evil, as he called it, had always fallen short of its authenticity. Evil, to him, functioned in such a way that would make the Dark Lord cringe: Spot target, throw cruel words, bully by setting the target up and generally make their lives miserable until they professed 'all hail Draco Malfoy'. Which explained why he never was exceedingly good at being evil. You can see it in the activities he engaged in. His idea of evil was to throw insults at poor unfortunate soul in moving train carriages, mock at the state of people's teeth, write in regularly to the gossip column and throw a few jelly-legs hexes because you know, jelly-legs hexes are so evil. Just like how he seemed to think that shoving bread soaked in egg yolk down someone's throat would be such an evil deed to do.

~*~

The next time they met, it was about detention.

Thus far, she had managed not to appear within three miles radius of a pole or anywhere near Draco Malfoy after that incident. Never would she have expected to receive the detention note two days after the last incident. Well, maybe she should have expected that but she was hoping it would not come to that. Apparently, Madam Pomfrey had reported their case to their Heads of Houses and now they would have to pay for it. To be fair though, she was the one who let slipped that they had been hexing each other and that the wound at the end of her skull was the result of it. She remembered the nurse pursing her lips disapprovingly, but she had never expected the nurse to report them. Had they not paid for their expedition by suffering the aftermath of it? In her opinion, she had paid much more than necessary for it. That mishap in the infirmary, she would never be able to forget it.

She was on her way to Professor McGonagall's office to receive instructions for her detention. She sulked and grumbled under her breath and wondered why bad things seemed to all happen at the same time. As if what happened hadn't been enough, honestly!

Knocking on the Professor's door, she prayed hard that the other boy would not be around and that they would not be set together for the detention.

"Come in," the professor's voice rang.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and entered.

And knew that some things were just too good to be true.

There he was, the very same Draco Malfoy, looking tall, impeccable, and still very blond. The very same who had helped her out of the shed, the very same who had stood against her every beliefs and the very same who had fallen and landed his lips on hers.

He raised his head then, took a look at her, and turned his head away without so much as an acknowledgement.

Ginny, on her part, granted the blond boy a long glare, and if looks could kill, he would be dead and resurrected and still dead many times over. Beside the Slytherin boy was his Head of House, dressed in his usual flowing black robe that never failed to remind Ginny of a very big and very spacious garbage bag. Professor Snape cut his eyes sideway at her and smirked, looking smug at the prospect of witnessing the sentencing of a Gryffindor. Someone should probably remind him that his favourite student was there to be prosecuted too, she thought.

She took another step in and closed the door behind her carefully. Turning back, she greeted her own Head of House.

"Good day, Professor McGonagall," she said, giving the lady a polite smile before turning to Professor Snape. "And good day to you too, Professor."

"Well," Professor Snape drawled, "I suppose today is as good a day as any, wouldn't you agree, Miss Weasley?" He had his hands clasped together at first before loosening them and twirling his fingers, looking every bit like a cunning old fox. "Now, Minerva, what shall we do with them?"

"Dueling outside of class is absolutely unacceptable in this school," she replied, giving both students a stern look. "And dueling outside curfew is certainly not tolerated."

"Of course, not to mention," Snape added, "that Miss Weasley had managed to inflict bodily harm on another student - "

"I beg your pardon, Severus," Professor McGonagall cut in. "From what I understand from the school nurse, the account has it that they were both hurt from this incident. Surely, you would not place blame on one without placing blame on the other."

"Oh, no, no, that's not what I meant of course," Professor Snape answered, keeping his tone civil. "I supposed Mr. Malfoy was at fault too, to a certain extent but - "

"And he committed damage to school properties too," McGonagall cut in again. "The door knob, I recalled, was ripped off by - "

"The knob fell off by itself, Professor."

Professor McGonagall gave the blond boy a hard look

"Very well," she finally said when she spoke. "I think detention is in order, Severus?"

The potion master nodded curtly without further comments.

Professor McGonagall nodded in return and went back to the parchments she had on her table.

Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she looked up over at the two students and said, "You will attend detention together tomorrow evening at the Great Hall, after dinner. I will be expecting to see the place cleared and scrubbed clean by nine-thirty. Without magic." She sighed and added, "Goodness knows the house elves could do with some time off."

Draco looked as if his eyeballs were about to popped out. Ginny had half the heart to walk over with her palms open to catch them when they fell. Except she was not feeling in a good mood to gloat either. Admittedly, she had done her fair share of cleaning at home but the Burrow was nowhere comparable to Hogwarts. And if she had thought that it was bad enough to clear up a house with about nine diners, she did not want to imagine how it would be like to clear up a great dining hall that accommodated over a few hundred students. Worst of all, she did not think Draco Malfoy would be that much of a helper at all.

~*~

Cleaning up the Great Hall after dinner? What the fuck?

The line echoed in Draco's head. He continued cursing and talking to himself as he walked back to the Slytherin dungeon. He had gotten quite a telling off by his own Head of House, which spoke pretty much seeing as he was the Professor's favourite student. Grumpy and weary, he leaned against the dungeon wall as he murmured the password to his dormitory.

"Slytherin Pride."

The picture frame swung open to reveal the students inside. Pansy, Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle were in a tight circle near the fireplace doing god-knows-what and he certainly wasn't interested to find out. He had been glad when Crabbe and Goyle decided to stop stalking him around like a pair of very unattractive display ornaments and get some lives of their own, though Draco did not particularly agree with their choice of hobby. Cooking and baking were in no way appropriate for a man. But to each his own, he shrugged it off. In terms of shelf display, he was sure that he and Blaise formed a more appealing duo and would certainly made very good representatives of their House in terms of physical appeal. Moreover, he and Blaise had been childhood friends and his company would win over Crabbe and Goyle's any day. Looking at the way the two goons were sniggering now, Draco could certainly see why Blaise had plainly refused to be seen with him when the two were trailing his steps. It certainly sucked out a lot from the otherwise handsome picture they would present.

He stepped in the dungeon and headed straight to his room. Blaise was inside, laying on his bed with his copy of Unveil Your Inner Psychic Today - by Gonerill Gordon. Blaise looked up when Draco walked in, and he did not speak at first. The dark boy waited for Draco to pace around the room for a moment to work off the ire before he finally put his book aside and sat up.

... five ... four ... three ... two ... one.

As expected, Draco suddenly stopped pacing and turned to his friend.

"They are making me clean the Great Hall after dinner!"

If Draco had been expecting from Blaise sympathy of any sorts, he was duly disappointed. Slytherins rarely sympathized and Blaise was no exception. Not to mention, it was not anything worth sympathizing. The boy had burst out laughing at first, conjuring up a mental picture of Draco working in the Great Hall like a house elf, clearing his plates. Then he rolled to his side gingerly as he tried to muffle his laughter against his blanket but his shoulders were shaking so much that his amusement was difficult to conceal.

"Bloody hell," Draco swore and sat down on his own bed, which was beside Blaise's.

"Oh, heavens above, Draco Malfoy is going to clean the Great Hall!" Blaise announced to the ceiling and suffered a smack on the face from the Potions textbook Draco sent flying across the space between them.

"Ouch!" he yelled but still chuckling. "But really, Draco, oh my fucking god. I can sell tickets for your detention. It's a historicaaa - AHH!!!" He was cut off as a windstorm of books and shoes were Banished by Draco, hitting him all over. "Okay, okay, stop now, please," he laughed until he fell weak on his bed, uninterested in ducking the flying objects. "Anyway," he said, "you got to clean up all by your own or is the Weaslet going to be with you?"

"Yes, that's the worst part. I've got to do this detention with her," Draco answered, snarling.

"You didn't seem to mind her all that much in the infirmary," Blaise mused.

Draco jumped. What did Blaise just say? But it couldn't be. Blaise couldn't have seen ...

"I went to see you in the morning," Blaise went on and wrinkled his brows, noting the change in Draco's expression. "You two were bickering like old married couple."

"Old married couple?" Draco positively retched. "We were arguing for god's sake."

"Well, arguing is all part of being - "

"I can't believe you have that idea - "

"You won't believe the amount of sexual tension I felt radiating from you two, just by standing there watching the two of you."

"What? Sexual tension?" Draco's face was screwed up in disgust.

"Yeah," Blaise answered, unaffected. "'Cos you know, all that arguments are part of getting to know each other better. If you weren't interested, I'm sure you wouldn't even bother saying anything at all."

"That's not true," Draco retorted. "I can't sit there and let her - "

"It's like how I used to pull at Pansy's ponytail every time we play at your place," Blaise reasoned. "I had a crush on her then, and I couldn't help but want to irritate her. Now I know better. You don't get the girls that way."

"No, that is different - "

"Nah, no need to explain yourself," Blaise waved him off. "That's my conclusion and I'm sticking to it. Let's just wait and see if I'm right," he said. "And you know I'm always right."

"Why?" Draco argued. "Just because you are reading that copy of rubbish? Unveil your inner psychic indeed. I think it'd rather unveil your inner insanity."

"Whatever you say," Blaise chimed. "Whatever you say."

~*~

"I can't believe I'm going to have to clean the Great Hall with him!"

Hermione looked at the distressed redhead, feeling warmly sympathetic.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm know it's awful but look at it this way," Hermione said and attempted to comfort the younger girl. "It's just one detention. And you get to see him clean! Draco Malfoy is clearing people's dishes!"

Ginny could not help but break a smile at that. That much was true. It would be a once in a lifetime opportunity to witness the great heir of the Malfoy family do what they deemed the servants' job. The thought of how much this would torment him was more than enough to compensate for the pain she felt at having to suffer alongside with him. Maybe she could even taunt him a bit, make him feel even more miserable or something.

Hermione smiled and patted Ginny's hand fondly, every bit the big sister she was to her since they met.

"Now," Hermione said, "maybe you should rest early. You would need that for tomorrow. The Great Hall! I never thought Professor McGonagall would be so harsh."

"I know," Ginny sighed, looking down at her hands. "God only knows what more would be in store for me. Everything is just going so wrong. Sometimes I feel like I am jinxed or something."

"I'm sure you aren't," Hermione replied comfortingly.

"I hope so," Ginny replied. "Because if anything bad should happen, Draco Malfoy should be the first person to get it. I bet his bad karma must be piling up as high as the Gryffindor Tower."

Hermione nodded, agreeing to every word Ginny had said.

"I'm sure that things would go well for you," Hermione said to her and smiled, "As for him, what is it that people always say? Oh, what goes around comes around. He will taste a dose of his own medicine one day."

~*~

"What goes around and comes around usually gets dizzy and falls over," Draco replied the redhead standing opposite him.

"Your attempt to be witty is exceedingly pathetic, Malfoy," she said.

They were at it again, arguing the moment they saw each other. They had eaten their dinner quickly and left to wait outside the Great Hall for their instructions. Professor McGonagall had left instructions to the kitchen house elves to bring them the necessary equipment to do their Muggle-style cleaning. They were to wait outside the Great Hall until all the students had filed out before they could start cleaning and they were expected to finish in two hours.

They stood leaning against the walls at opposite ends, glaring at each other disdainfully through the shifting gaps among the clusters of students. Ron and Harry walked passed and paused at Ginny's side.

"Hey, Gin," Harry said and gave her a small smile, seeming to show his empathy for her situation. She smiled back at him before turning to her brother who had started speaking to her.

"You going to be alright?" her brother asked.

"I'm going to have to be alright, haven't I?" she replied in a foul mood. "But don't worry," she continued, "I'll fare better than that slime ball of a ferret," she said as she narrowed her eyes at Draco.

Draco, at the other end of the door, could not hear the conversation going on with the three, but he caught the exchange between Harry and Ginny and had promptly snorted in disgust. He tried to look elsewhere instead of looking at the three Gryffindors but found it to be difficult. He wanted to know what they were saying, though by the look of Ginny Weasley shooting him a death glare, he bet they weren't exchanging recipes. Feeling irritated, he started tapping his foot on the stone-paved corridor, trying to act nonchalant.

"Way to go," Ron had replied, giving his sister a light pat on the shoulder. "But," he continued, "I really don't like the idea of you being alone with that slimy git."

"Oh, believe me when I say I'm not looking forward to it particularly either," she said and rolled her eyes.

"Just ... be careful, alright?" Ron said, concerned.

Ginny's eyes softened at the concern showered on her. She smiled and gave her brother a small hug. "I'll be fine," she said softly.

Ron smiled, and Harry, who was standing at one side witnessing the picture of familial exchanges, could not help but smiled too.

"I'll come around to pick you up later," Ron told her sister. When she looked miffed, he put up a hand to stop her retort. "It's going to be quite late when you're done, so I'm going to have to come pick you up. No arguments."

Ginny slumped, but was nonetheless pleased at her brother's concern. "Alright then," she answered and smiled. "Better than walking back alone. I can do with some chatting company."

"I'll see you later then," her brother answered as he started to walk.

"See you," Harry smiled and waved.

Ginny waved at the two of them, feeling a sense of blissful contentment, but only for a little while. When she turned back, she found Draco, unsurprisingly, staring at her.

"Done with the sappy family episode?" he said loudly.

Ginny scoffed and ignored him, which gave him much displeasure. Draco did not like being ignored.

"Still in love with Potteritis, aren't you?" he continued to provoke. "That is so pathetic."

Ginny's eyes cut at him coldly as she ground her teeth. Draco saw the anger rising in the younger girl as she clenched her small fists at her side, and it gave him a perverse sense of delight. It made him feel like the sole reason of his existence was to agitate Ginny Weasley. He smirked before he commented again.

"Hit a nerve, haven't I?"

"Not at all," she answered through her teeth.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Draco responded. "How long has it been?" he asked and made as if to count with his fingers. "Five, six years? Oh my, that is long. Unrequited all these years, must be painful, I'll bet."

"I do not still like Harry!" she answered loudly.

"You don't?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow in doubt.

"I don't see why it is your business, Malfoy."

"Well," Draco was caught speechless for a second, "it is my business, of course ..." he insisted.

"And why is that so? Unless you are interested in Harry, or I don't see why ..."

"Me, interested in Potter?" Draco repeated, appalled. He made as if to puke before he straightened up. "I have taste, Weasley."

"Oh, really? I wouldn't put my money on your taste."

"Well, you really wouldn't know me well enough to know my taste."

"Believe me, Malfoy. I don't ever want to know you at all!"

"And you think I want to know you? Don't think so much of yourself."

"I don't!"

"Don't think much of yourself? Esteem problems somewhere?"

"Just shut up!"

Draco opened his mouth to reply but was cut off when Blaise stepped between them. There was a look of amusement on Blaise's face as he put his closed fist at his mouth and gave a few slight cough before speaking.

"Sorry to interrupt," Blaise said to no one in particular. Turning to Draco, he gave the blond boy a light slap on the arm and said, "Good luck. And ... enjoy." He finished and smiled playfully, walking away quickly before his friend could inflict any physical harm to him. Blaise turned around at a distance, and gave the two a feeble wave before putting two fingers at his temple and giving them a mock salute.

"God damn you!" Draco and Ginny both swore at Blaise at the same time, their combined volume echoed their words in great volume across the hallway.

Blaise raised his eyebrows, looking completely amused at the shared outrage. Draco and Ginny turned to stare at each other in shock, their mouth gaping, and their faces flushing with slight embarrassment that they should have agreed on something in public, and in the same words at that. Blaise looked at them from where he stood just as Hermione stepped out of the Great Hall.

Hermione paused in her steps when she felt the unusual sense of tension in the air, as if she had just walk through a security ward. She looked from Ginny to Draco, quizzical at their expressions and silence. Then she looked up straight and saw Blaise, who was also looking back at Draco and Ginny. Their eyes met for a moment and Blaise winked at her. She stared at him as he turned swiftly to leave. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her. Did he just wink at her?

She turned to Ginny, shaking the thought out of her head.

"You alright?" she asked the redhead.

"Yes, of course!" Ginny answered, her voice a pitch higher than she had intended.

Hermione nodded slightly and held the other girl's hand for a while. "Be careful," she told Ginny before she started on her heels and left.

~*~

The beginning of it was not as bad as she had thought. The house elves had been kind and had given them each a moving trolley with two compartments, one to dispose of leftover food and another to put the utensils in. They had also given them each a pair of gloves so that they did not have to dirty their hands.

At first, a small group of house elves lingered and stood at the corner of the Great Hall, watching them mournfully, as if they had been robbed of their exclusive privileges. Ginny felt extraordinarily awkward at their reactions and she could see that Draco felt equally uneasy. But she betted it was more of the unease of being in a servant domain more so than anything else in his case.

They had each taken one side of the Great Hall: Ginny taking charge of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and Draco taking charge of the Slytherin and the Ravenclaw tables. They worked quietly as they cleared up all the dishes, which had surprised Ginny. She had half expected them to hurl plates at each other, to create a wave of flying saucers in the air and turning the Great Hall into one great extraterrestrial demonstration. But their previous argument had just died down and evaporated away without a trace. Perhaps, that was a good thing because she thought flying plates would not go very well with the house elves. They probably would get upset over broken dishes, as she had seen their grave expressions when Draco broke the first one or two plates he was clearing. Other than that, Ginny thought that he was doing quite well, mainly because it was really easy.

When they finished collecting the dirty dishes, the house elves merrily thanked them and trotted off with the trolleys. Ginny was quietly glad that they were not expected to wash the dishes. After a short wait, four of them returned with two buckets of soapy water and two cleaning rags. And they went on to wipe the tables and benches clean, first with the soapy water, then with another fresh pail of water. She looked up once in a while to see what Draco was doing, and she noted with amusement that he had taken off his school tie and black robe, and had also unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, looking in every way as harried as he had ever been.

After they were done with cleaning the tables and benches, the house elves fetched them two brooms, and two mops in a bucket of water and they started their work without a minute hesitation. They both wanted to get it over and done with so that they could return early and clean themselves up. Eventually, everything was done and the house elves seemed pleased with the clean dining hall.

"Mr Malfoy and Miss Weasley is doing good with cleaning!" the house elf at the head of the group nodded approvingly.

Ginny blushed slightly at the compliment whereas Draco only scoffed under his breath.

"Dinky never think Hogwarts students can do cleaning but they can!" another house elf proclaimed excitedly, pointing at the tables and benches.

"Yes, yes, they can. Hogwarts students is clever after all," the first house elf nodded again. "Miss Weasley and Mr Malfoy has do cleaning for us and we house elves is thanking you. What can we do for you?"

"Oh, bloody hell, get McGonagall here so that we can all just scram," Draco said, feeling tired and irritable.

The house elves looked taken aback at his reply and Ginny cut her eyes sideways at him disapprovingly.

"They are just being nice!" she reprimanded him.

"Yeah," he replied sarcastically. "So nice."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him before turning to the house elves, looking apologetic.

"We has been sending Bubbles to Professor McGonagall. She is doing work but should be coming fast. But," the house elf said, "maybe we can get Mr Malfoy and Miss Weasley some food to eat? Something to drink? Supper?"

Draco seemed to welcome that idea. She saw a different light in his eyes when food was mentioned. Sitting down at the nearest table, he nodded at the house elf.

"Yes, food. Now," he said. "And coffee."

The house elf looked elated at the prospect of having something to do at last. It turned to Ginny, its eyes blinking wide.

"Miss Weasley?"

"Er," Ginny hesitated, "well, I'll eat something too, I guess. Since there's nothing to do anyway."

The house elves grinned at the two of them before scampering off in a mass of frenzy. They came back with bread and some soup, biscuits and cakes and a pot of tea and coffee each.

Because the house elves had laid the food on the same table, Ginny had no choice but to sit with Draco to eat. He did not seem to mind too much, or at least he did not object to her sitting down with him at the same table. She sat down opposite him and took one of the plates first since Draco was preoccupied with preparing his coffee. She took some biscuits off the plate and pushed the plate towards Draco, showing that the rest were his and he took it without a word. When he was finished with one biscuit, he reached for the bread and the soup. Instinctively, he also took the second bowl of soup and placed it in front of Ginny. She looked up in surprise, but he did not seem to have notice anything wrong.

Ginny pulled the bowl of soup towards her with a little nod but Draco did not seem to acknowledge it at all. Feeling uncomfortable with the silence, yet not knowing what to say, she lowered her face at the bowl, only looking up a few times. She had noticed, during their brief shared moment that Draco had very good table manners. His elbows were constantly off of the table and he sat in such a straight manner that made her wonder if his back would snap when he finally stood up. He also had a very discreet way of chewing his food, unlike her brothers who were all prone to shoving their food into their mouth in big portions so much so that both sides of their cheeks puffed up like a squirrel. Draco did not do that. He ate in small servings and the way he put his food into his mouth was so subtle that she almost did not see him open it.

He looked up suddenly and raised an eyebrow at her. She flushed and quickly lowered her head again to finish her soup.

"Why are you looking at me?" he asked with a hint of exhaustion, not sounding all that interested with her answer.

She looked up, taking a piece of serviette to wipe her mouth. "I'm not looking at you."

"Yes, you are."

"Well, there's no one else to look at anyway. I can't keep staring at the table top," she reasoned.

"I seem to recall that you said you won't even spare me ten seconds of your attention span," he smirked. "That was more than ten second, I wager."

"Egomaniac."

"But you were looking at me, weren't you?" he said, looking smug.

"Only because you are hogging the tea pot!" she replied, point at the pot of tea near Draco.

"I'm not even drinking tea," he answered offhandedly, and took the pot, putting it on the middle of the table.

Ginny reached for the pot, glad that the conversation was closing and poured herself a fresh cup of tea.

They sat in silence for a while to wait for the professor, who came slightly after they had finished the supper. She gave the two students a nod of acknowledgement and dismissed them to go back to their dormitory.

"I believe your brother is waiting for you," Professor McGonagall told Ginny.

She smiled back at her professor then, when Draco had already walked out of the Great Hall. She followed after him and saw her brother staring at the blond boy.

Ron turned away from Draco when he sensed his sister's presence.

"You ready to go?" he asked her.

Ginny nodded and quickly went to her brother side, tugging his hand, beckoning him to walk back to the Gryffindor Tower. Her brother followed her as she started to walk and after a few steps, she had turned back to look but Draco was gone.