Potentially Yours

Ginny Weasley knew better than to wear a white dress when there was no question of whether or not it would rain, but it was such a pretty dress, and seeing that it, like everything else she owned, it was old, it fit her quite tightly. Now that she was nearly sixteen, looking good was important to her; she really just wanted someone to notice her, to want her, and she didn't care who it was, it could be Draco effing Malfoy if he was a good kisser and-

Oh, she cursed herself. Draco effing Malfoy was heading right at her, and he was smirking like the smarmy bastard he was.

"Fancy meeting you out here Weasley," he drawled. "Nice dress." He was alone, a rare sight. If she thought of it, she hadn't seen his posse following after him in a while, not that she had actually noticed or anything.

But why would he pay a complement to her dress? She pondered his motives and looked down, wondering what was so spectacular about the old dress that her blood enemy would say something nice about it. She gasped. It was starting to rain...and she was wearing a thin white dress. When wet, it was as if she wasn't wearing anything...the harder the rain fell, the more he could see, and the redder her cheeks became.

Ginny attempted to cover her body, but it was to no avail.

He snickered. "Black lace bra, hmmm? All a woman needs is a black lace bra and...something else." His eyes roamed over her body. She was tall and thin, and had slim thighs that he just wanted to run his hands between....

"Embarrassed?" he asked softly. "You shouldn't be. You've got a body I'd kill to be on top of."

"Is this necessary, Malfoy?" she said, turning her back to him, wondering if running screaming off into the distance was beneath her integrity.

"Mmm...so there's matching panties too?"

Ginny turned to look over her shoulder, and when she saw the look in his eyes, she shivered. It was as if he were making love to her, as if he were savoring her body with his hands instead of his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, Draco," she murmured, using his given name without realizing it.

"Like what, sugar?" If Draco had been anything but a Malfoy, he would've gasped and covered his mouth, and shown visible shame at having called a girl he supposed to hate 'sugar'. Slytherins didn't say 'sugar' to a woman, that was for bloody Hufflepuffs. But, he was a Malfoy, so he stood there like the arrogant bastard he knew she thought he was.

Ginny hated the way her eyes widened when he called her 'sugar', sounding like they were in a comfortable relationship or something, or, even worse, like he cared. And, even though she thought that maybe she hated him somewhere inside, in her desperate state, she felt the sparks of attraction. If she thought about it, she knew why girls were always throwing themselves at him.

His black tank top clung to him, as did his closely fitted blue jeans, and his almost white platinum blonde hair was limp against his strong featured face...it was even starting to curl a bit at the ends. If she thought of it, he really looked rather muggle...he was the last person she would ever expect to be walking around so openly embracing the muggle culture.

"What's with the muggle clothes, Malfoy?" she asked, desperate for a subject change.

He shook the water off of his hair, his muscles rippling tantalizingly beneath his skin as he moved.

"Lucius despises all things muggle, so it started out as a small way to rebel against him...now, I just like it. Muggles do have nice clothing. Really, Weasley, I do love your dress."

She sighed miserably, giving up trying to cover her body; it was futile at this point. "If you like it so much, why don't you just wear it?" she shot at him, annoyed.

To her immense surprise, he laughed. Not a snicker at the expense of someone else, but a pure, happy laugh. It was such a beautiful, full sound that she smiled and eventually began to laugh too.

"Its cold out here, Ginny. You'll get sick," his hand brushed hers so lightly it could have been an accident. He jerked it away. "Not that I care or anything."

Her smile fell flat. She had been starting to hate him less, and then he had to go and add 'not like I care or anything' to the end of what would've been a nice thing to say. "Why do you always have to be such an arse?" she asked, accidentally voicing a thought.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" she tried to apologize, even though she meant what she'd said, it was still bad manners to ask questions of that sort.

"Its fine," he muttered, waving it off. "Nice people, like you, generally have good, loving and decent parents and friends, nice things like that. People like me...well, we don't, all we have is ourselves and our thoughts," he said quietly, looking frail and transparent as he looked at her with sad grey eyes.

"Oh," was all she managed to say.

"And," he added, "when people like me generally find it in ourselves to try and be nice, people like you turn away and don't give us a chance. And then we become more callous. You're the good people, you're supposed to be into things like second chances and forgiveness, yet none of you ever even try."

Ginny grabbed his arm. "Malfoy...Draco, I'm sorry...I can try...I can try."

He looked down at her in disbelief. He hadn't actually expected that she would do more than maybe pity him. She looked so sweet, so innocent; all until his eyes left hers and drifted down to the expanse of flesh that peeked out from black lace and white gauze.

"Ginny?" he asked, using his best innocent voice.

"Yes?" she replied, expecting he would say 'thank you'.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He looked her in the eye, trying to make her feel like this was a special initiation into some small club of people who really knew him.

"Sure."

He stepped close to her and rested his hands on her shoulders, piercing her soul with those grey eyes of his, and leaned in, seemingly to tell her something. Before she even had time to react, one hand gripped her chin and turned it up, and his lips had touched to hers.

Ginny stiffened in surprise, but eagerly and thoughtlessly gave in to the demanding caress of his soft lips.

Her hands burrowed in his hair when his kisses fluttered across her jaw and down to her neck.

"Oh...God," she whispered, unable to believe that an actual attractive male was this into her.

"No," he growled, nipping at her collarbone. "Not God, Draco."

She smiled. "Arrogant bastard."

"Mmm..." he dropped an unexpectedly gentle kiss on her forehead and held her at arm length for a moment, studying her. He inwardly smirked, knowing that the tender rose of her lips and the reddening bites and darkening bruises were all marks of his ravishing of her.

"What are we doing?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper, her gentle brown eyes staring up at him in question.

"I don't know. But it's working for me, if it's working for you."

She pretended to ponder it. "I don't know, I'm think I've had better kisses...I don't know if that was worth remembering." She flashed him a mischievous grin.

"But I bet you could remember everything I've said to you and everything I just did in perfect detail, a year from now. I know you've forgotten the rest of them--that says something." His harsh whisper sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

Inwardly, she knew he was right. "I don't know...starting to fade already..."

He kissed her again, smirking when her moans spoke like soft whispers to his soul. "Will you remember now?" He knew that hickey wouldn't be fading any time soon.

Her words were broken; much in the manner of a person who was so dazed that they didn't know left from right. "I...I'm not good at playing games, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "I am. But only when it doesn't matter. Then the game is just something to keep me interested until I can't take it anymore. "

"Oh..." Ginny lowered her eyes, trying to find the right words to say. She had thought that she was maybe a little more than that, that she was something different and maybe even special because off the oddity of the circumstances.

"Everything is real right now," he supplied, hoping that those words were enough to imply what he couldn't say.

"So...does that mean that I matter?" she implored, arms crossed across her breasts.

.

He didn't say anything for a moment, and then he pulled her close to his body, and wrapped his arms around her gently, as if he were scared to crush her.

It clicked in Ginny's mind that he was hugging her, so she pulled him to her with just as much care and rested her chin on one of his broad shoulders.

"Yes," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the drumming of the rain.

She slid her hand into his, and they wordlessly walked back to the castle, the warmth of potential drowning out the chill the icy water brought to their bones.