Ginny Weasley and the Heirs of Darkness

Chapter Thirteen: Bad Wizards and the Witches Who Love Them

"'Mione, I'm tired," Harry complained pitifully, rolling onto his stomach and pressing his face into his pillow. "Don't wanna... library," continued his muffled voice from within the feathery depths.

Hermione crossed her arms primly over the starched front of her crisp white blouse. "It's really not a choice, Harry," she snapped bossily. "This is important if we want to find out what happened to Ron." Her eyes narrowed. "And if you want to keep Ginny away from Malfoy."

Her final comment struck home like nothing else could. The last thing Harry wanted was to see his erstwhile girlfriend, to whom he was still strongly attracted, end up with the school's greatest prat. He lurched out of bed, rummaging through his chest of drawers for clean clothes. Hermione turned her back while he dressed, but she continued to speak.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" he asked, head poked halfway through an emerald green Weasley sweater.

"I don't mean to pry, but I've kind of wondered- when did you really start to have feelings for Ginny?"

There was a brief silence. "You can turn around now," Harry said finally. Another pause as he frowned thoughtfully. "You remember at the end of last year, when all the fighting was over, and everyone thought Voldemort was finally gone for good?" His frown deepened as he realized in retrospect how short-lived that spectacular victory had been.

Hermione suppressed a shiver. It had been the most terrifying year of her life, and it was unlikely she'd ever forget it. This year so far had actually been strange by comparison, with everyone trying to pretend that nothing had happened, the Slytherin students most of all. It made her stomach burn, thinking of the fact that known Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy were free, worries of Azkaban a distant memory. Harry's testimony about the Death Eaters he'd seen at the time of Cedric's death was discounted by the Ministry, and Malfoy, along with all his fellows, was living the same privileged, self-indulgent life he'd enjoyed before Voldemort's return. Hermione didn't understand why, and it made her livid to think about it.

She struggled to maintain focus on Harry as the dark thoughts from the previous year flooded her mind. "I'm sorry, I was wool-gathering. You were saying about Ginny?"

Harry nodded. "It's alright, I understand. Anyway, you remember how helpful she was, how she offered to go back to the cemetery with me that night? She was willing to face Tom again, Hermione, and she looked so scared and brave." An ironic smile tugged at Harry's mouth. "And this might sound stupid, since I never really knew her, but it just made me think of what my mum must have looked like, when she was helping in the war against Voldemort."

Hermione had seen the album Harry had, full of pictures of his parents, and she remembered that Lily Potter had had red hair and Harry's same bright green eyes. Ginny Weasley's eyes were brown, but both women were tall, slim, and had long, straight red hair; Hermione could understand how Harry had made the connection. She chewed her lip. "Harry," she began hesitantly, "is that really a good reason to think you're in love with someone?"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he replied, expression abruptly closed. "Let's get to the library."

Hermione sighed. If Harry was suddenly eager to do research, he definitely didn't want to discuss Ginny any further. "Let's go," she echoed.

The two of them made the brief walk to the library in an uncomfortable silence, and Hermione was vividly reminded of their fourth year, when Harry and Ron hadn't been speaking, and she and Harry had been working frantically on the Triwizard Tournament clue. She felt horrid, leaving Ron out, but she also knew how unreasonable he could be when it came to Ginny. "Harry?" she ventured again.

"Yeah?"

"Where's Ron this morning?"

"Practicing with the other Chasers." Harry's expression brightened. Quidditch was something he didn't mind discussing. "Katie's feeling better today, and she's worked out this brilliant maneuver where-"

Hermione held up a hand. "Spare me the details," she said, giving Harry a wry smile. He smiled back, and they pushed through the doors of the library.

Harry squinted at the tables near the front rows of books. "Hermione, is that Ginny over there?"

Hermione followed his gaze. "Long, bright red hair," she observed. "Yes, of course it's Ginny, who else would it be?"

"No one," Harry said, too quickly. "Just double-checking."

Hermione gave him an odd look. "Well, should we go talk to her? I'd like to apologize for the misunderstanding we apparently had yesterday."

Harry nodded, an ironic smile on his face. "I'd like to talk to her about a lot of things, actually."

***

Seeing motion out of the corner of her eye, Ginny glanced up as the library's double doors swung open, admitting Hermione and Harry. She groaned as she realized they were headed in her direction. She'd come to the library that day in the hopes of getting some of her Animagicks homework finished, but apparently the hope had been in vain.

As they neared her table, she remembered that the homework was meant to be a secret, and she just barely managed to tuck the charts and graphs under the book she'd checked out on dragon pox.

"What do you two want?" she asked stiffly as Harry and Hermione came to stand beside her chair.

Hermione fidgeted. "Look, Ginny, I don't know what you thought yesterday, but we just wanted to apologize-"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to hear your excuses," she snapped. She glanced up at Hermione, noting that the other girl's eyes were fixed on the book in Ginny's lap. "What?" she asked irritably.

Hermione shook her head distractedly. "N-nothing," she said quickly. "Sorry to disturb you, Ginny. We have to go. Harry. We have to go right now." And before Ginny could even respond, Hermione had dragged Harry away to a far corner of the library.

Ginny had hardly digested her first encounter when Draco strode through the library doors. Library's a popular place today, she thought, amused. A quivery feeling shot through her stomach when she spotted Draco, and she leaned forward slightly, hoping to catch his eye. His head turned in her direction, and she favored him with a small smile. Draco frowned, then turned away, disappearing down the aisle of Charms books.

Ginny sat absolutely still for a moment, desperately willing the lump in her throat not to turn into tears. Maybe he just didn't see me, she reasoned. Stuffing her things haphazardly into her bag, she decided to return to the Gryffindor common room. It was clear she wasn't going to get any more studying done, anyway.

***

"What was that all about?" Harry hissed at Hermione as soon as they were out of Ginny's earshot. Hermione had pulled him to the back of the library, near a statue of Helga Hufflepuff.

"Did you see the book in her lap, Harry?" Hermione whispered urgently.

Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione was always noticing odd details. "No, I was looking at Ginny's face, not her lap," he replied, an inexplicable feeling of déjà vu washing over him.

"She was reading up on dragon pox," Hermione pronounced ominously. "Harry, I think she's under Tom's influence again." She took a deep breath. "I think Ginny's the one responsible for the dragon pox epidemic."

They spent the afternoon closeted in one of the study rooms, Hermione explaining the reasoning behind her theory to Harry.

"So what do we do?" Harry asked finally.

Hermione chewed her lip. "Wait until we can catch her, I suppose. What do you suppose he's using to control her this time? Surely she wouldn't fall for something like the diary again."

"Probably not," Harry said grimly, "but I'd bet a hundred Galleons it still has something to do with Lucius Malfoy. This just reinforces our theory that Draco's involved."

Hermione nodded. "For now, all we can do is wait. I'll keep an eye on Ginny, try to spot her going to Moaning Myrtle's toilets. In the meantime, we'd best research that spell."

***

Halfway down the hall, Ginny changed her mind about returning to Gryffindor Tower. The Chasers would be back from practice, and she wasn't sure she could face Ron right now; she felt too guilty, knowing what she did about Hermione and Harry.

No, she would go visit Charlie instead. Now that she'd done some dragon pox research, she had a few questions to ask him, and besides, it couldn't hurt to apologize for the way she'd acted the day before. It had been a knee-jerk reaction, the feeling that no one ever wanted to tell her anything because she was "innocent little Ginny." But to be fair, she knew there were confidential things that Cho and Charlie were obligated to keep secret from students, even if a particular student was family.

She was surprised to discover the portrait to Charlie's apartment already partially open when she arrived. Pushing it fully aside, she called, "Charlie? Are you here?"

No response. Feeling strangely edgy, Ginny slipped in through the door, closing it behind her. "Charlie?" she called again.

Ginny passed through the living room. Everything seemed to be in order, so she checked the kitchen. Nothing. She opened the door to Charlie's bedroom.

Her brother was sitting on the end of his bed, slumped, head in his hands. "Charlie?" Ginny queried. "Are you alright?"

He raised his head, and Ginny saw that his normally warm brown eyes were shot with red, and the pale skin underneath was blue with exhaustion. "I- I don't know, Gin," he croaked, voice raw.

Ginny rushed to his side, kneeling so she could better see him. Cupping his face in her hands, she examined him critically. "You look wretched," she pronounced finally.

"Gee, thanks," he replied wryly.

Ginny smiled softly. "We'd best get you to the Hospital Wing." She hesitated. "It's not- Charlie, do you think you've contracted-"

"I must have," Charle said weakly. He frowned. "I just don't understand how- I've been so careful."

Ginny rose, offering her brother her arm. "Can you walk?"

"I think so," he replied, leaning his weight on her. Ginny's knees buckled, but she managed to hold him.

"Ready?" she asked.

Charlie nodded mutely.

After a walk that seemed interminable, Ginny finally managed to get her brother to the Hospital Wing and onto a bed. "I'm going to leave you with Madam Pomfrey," Ginny told Charlie. She smoothed his hair back from his forehead, which was uncomfortably warm. "I just don't understand," she murmured. "You looked fine when I saw you yesterday."

Charlie frowned. "What are you talking about, Gin? I didn't see you yesterday."

Ginny gave her brother a quizzical look. "I came to ask you for advice, Charlie, about telling Ron about Harry and Hermione? And Cho was there.... How can you not remember?" She sighed. "It must be the illness. I'll let you rest. See you tomorrow?"

But Charlie was already fast asleep.

***

A week passed. Ginny and Ron checked on Charlie frequently, but his condition was stable- the only thing out of the ordinary was the fact that he still didn't remember Ginny's visit the day before he came down with the dragon pox. Ginny had wanted to ask Madam Pomfrey about whether memory lapses were associated with the illness, but the Mediwitch was far too busy with the other patients inhabiting the Hospital Wing: two Hufflepuffs, four Ravenclaws, a Gryffindor, and now Charlie.

It was the first time Ginny had realized the seriousness of the epidemic. The Gryffindor was a second-year, and not someone Ginny knew well, but she still felt terrible for not having noticed the girl was missing. Cho was right; Ginny had been very self-centered recently.

"You really have been out of it, Gin," Ron teased in an echo of Cho's words as they left the Hospital Wing. "Cho and Jaron have updated us at every prefects' meeting."

Ginny held her tongue, allowing Ron to tease her; she felt it would somehow be less than prudent to tell her older brother she spent most of the prefects' meetings doodling and stealing glances at Draco. "Oops," she replied lamely.

Smiling, Ron changed the subject. "Are you ready for Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon?"

Not really, considering three people she desperately wanted to avoid all had that class, but she didn't want to tell Ron that, either. "I guess so. Why?"

Ron shot her an odd look. "Well, we have to give progress reports on our end-of-term projects-"

Ginny slapped her forehead. "Damnit! I forgot!" She gave her brother a quick sideways hug. "Thanks, Ron. I'll see you in class!" With a parting wave, she scampered down the corridor.

Ron grinned after his sister. Typical Ginny.

***

"... and that's what I've found so far," Ginny finished, looking hopefully at Professor Gillund. The professor chewed thoughtfully on the end of her quill, and Ginny wondered idly if even teachers bought Sugar Quills.

"I think you've chosen an interesting but rather challenging topic, Miss Weasley," she said finally. "I can give you some assistance. See me after class."

Ginny nodded, pleased that she was going to receive special attention from the teacher of her favorite class. The rest of the hour ticked by slowly, and halfway through the lesson, the classroom door swung open. Professor Snape stood framed in the doorway, expression sour as usual.

"Apologies for the interruption, Serena. Could I borrow Miss Granger?"

Professor Gillund frowned. "I'm in the middle of my lesson, Severus. Is it that pressing?"

Snape's face twisted into a smirk of superiority. "The Headmaster would like to speak with her."

"Oh." Professor Gillund glowered. "Try to have her back before the end, I have homework to pass out."

Professor Snape gave her a mocking bow. "I shall try," he said. "Granger. Hurry up."

Hermione gathered her books and followed the Potions Master out of the room. Ginny turned to meet Bronwen's eyes, but her friend only shrugged; apparently she had no idea what was going on, either.

The lesson progressed, but the class wasn't really paying attention, everyone speculating about why Dumbledore wanted to speak with Hermione. Five minutes before the final bell, Hermione entered, looking surprisingly subdued. Whispering and frenzied questioning ensued, and Professor Gillund finally threw up her hands.

"Fine," she called good-naturedly. "It's a Friday afternoon anyway, and I can see I'm not going to get any more teaching done. Read chapters five, six, and seven for Monday. You're all excused. Except for you, of course, Miss Weasley."

Ginny watched wistfully as all the other students filed into the corridor. "You had some assistance for my project, Professor?" she asked, wishing she was outside finding out what had happened in the Headmaster's office.

The teacher nodded. "Some of the books you will need are currently being held by the Headmaster- here is a note giving you my permission to borrow them." She smiled. "Now, I imagine you're just dying to find out what happened with Miss Granger, so I'll let you go. Enjoy your weekend."

Ginny smiled at the professor. "Thanks, you too." Professor Gillund was a strange woman, and Ginny couldn't quite figure her out. She seemed very kind, but she was more secretive than even the most reclusive Hogwarts professor. Add in the snippit of conversation Ginny had overheard her having with Snape last week, and the result was an intriguing puzzle, one Ginny hadn't had much time to think about lately.

And didn't have time for today, either. "Ginny, did you get to hear?" Dean Thomas asked her as soon as she left the classroom.

She laughed. "No, Dean, I just got out. What's happening?"

"Hermione has been asked to drop her role as prefect mentor and work on a special potion with Professor Snape."

Ginny looked immediately at Damian Godswift, Hermione's erstwhile partner, and she had to smother a smile. Damian looked as if Christmas had come early that year. She turned back to Dean. "Why?"

Dean shook his head. "Hermione said she didn't know, but I think she just won't say. What everyone really wants to know," he continued, dropping his voice and shooting a glance at the Slytherins, who were gathered across the hall, "is why Snape isn't working with Malfoy instead."

Ginny didn't comment, but she had a fairly good guess. If this was about the dragon pox, and if the dragon pox was connected to Voldemort, which she suspected it was, Dumbledore wouldn't want to involve the son of a supposed Death Eater. "Yeah," she said simply. "Interesting."

Dean turned back to the rest of the Gryffindors, who were busy congratulating Hermione on her special commission, but Ginny went across the hall to the Slytherins, tapping Bronwen on the shoulder. "Bron. What's up?"

"Well, you've heard about Hermione?"

Ginny nodded, and the girls started to walk down the corridor towards Fiona's Muggle Studies classroom.

"Draco's annoyed, but there's not a lot he can do." A malicious sparkle appeared in Bronwen's eyes. "You could go comfort him," she teased.

"Not funny."

Bronwen rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Gin. Just because he maybe didn't see you in the library-"

Ginny groaned. "Don't forget every other incident and misunderstanding we've had. Merlin, Bron, this is the worst crush ever! Really a bleeding miserable crush."

"Well, you've only had two," Bronwen replied, giggling. "Personally, I think this second one is redeeming the mistake of the first. Look, there's Fiona."

"Hello, girls," Fiona called, separating from her cluster of Ravenclaw friends. "Any plans for the afternoon?"

"I'm just happy it's the weekend," Ginny muttered grumpily. "Two whole days without having to see Draco-sodding-Malfoy."

Fiona and Bronwen shared an amused glance. Ginny could be so adorable when she was feeling intractable. "Ginny," Bronwen said, "don't you think that's a little extreme?"

"No. I'm going to stay in the Tower the whole weekend."

Fiona chuckled. "Right. And not take a single meal." Bronwen gave her friend a thumbs-up- Fiona had scored a very good shot. The only student at Hogwarts who enjoyed eating more than Ginny did was her older brother Ron.

"Someone can bring me food." Ginny wasn't really feeling that unreasonable, but it was fun to tease her friends.

"Oh, so you're too good to cheer me on in tomorrow's game?"

Ginny had utterly forgotten about the Quidditch game. She heaved a melodramatic sigh. "Oh, alright, you've got me, Fiona. I'll be there."

"Good. Well, any ideas on how to spend the hour before dinner?" Fiona grinned. "I was thinking we could go watch Professor Flitwick decorate the Great Hall."

"Decorate?" Ginny echoed.

"For Halloween, silly," Bronwen told her. "Come on, you know we'll get one good scream out of Fiona when they release the bats."

Ginny grinned. Her friends really were great; it was so sweet of them to try and keep her distracted. "Alright. But only if you promise to scream, Fi, because I want my money's worth."

***

Although the Chilling Curse has been used primarily in the northernmost reaches of Siberia, it has been seen more recently in wizard duels in Canada and Alaska in North America, and the most southern parts of Chile and Argentina in South America. Originally developed by the Dark Witch Zoyanastra, it is considered astonishingly effective even outside of these colder regions. By slowly lowering the body's temperature without allowing it to achieve hypothermia, the affected witch or wizard dies a long, miserable death with all faculties still intact. It is cast by leveling the wand at one of the body's key heat centers- either head or hands is best...

"Brushing up on why you want me, Weasley?" a silky voice asked from above her.

Pushing her hair away from her face, Ginny looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing next to her chair, arms crossed over his chest, expression amused.

"What?" she asked eloquently, caught off her guard. She'd managed to avoid Draco for the entire Halloween feast, and hadn't expected him to follow her to the library afterward.

Smirk widening, Draco tapped the magazine Ginny had tucked outside of her book; she hadn't wanted any of her fellow Gryffindors stumbling into the library to catch her reading "Still More Potente Hexes, Curses and Ways to Make Others Suffer" by Eleonora Blackheath. Even if she had borrowed it from Professor Dumbledore, she just couldn't picture her brother approving. Glancing at the headline on the magazine that Draco was indicating with one long finger, Ginny groaned internally. Of all the magazines to borrow from the Gryffindor common room! She had somehow managed to grab a copy of Parvati Patil's CosmoWitch, and this month's main story was "Bad Wizards and the Witches Who Love Them."

There was no point in acting irritable; he'd only get the best of her that way. Far better to toy with him. Ginny dropped her tone to a conspiratorial, sultry one. "Are you a bad wizard, Malfoy?" she whispered, focusing her emphasis on the word "bad."

One of Draco's argent-laced eyebrows shot up, and he draped himself gracefully in the armchair across from her. "That depends." He half-closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, catlike. "Do you like bad wizards?" he asked, baiting her.

But Ginny had already turned back to her book in an attempt to studiously ignore him. Swinging herself sideways in the chair, she draped her legs over its plush arm. It gave Malfoy quite a view, but that was just part of their bizarre little game. He'd ignored her for a week- fine, she'd ignore him back. See how he liked it, then.

Draco grinned, amused by her insolent flirtatiousness. Nice legs, Ginny, he thought, leaning forward in his chair and pulling the magazine away from her. "Weasley," he said, trying to get her attention. "I was still talking to you."

Ginny started to reply, "And I was still ignoring you," but before she could get halfway through the sentence, the Dark Arts book tumbled into Draco's waiting hand and let out a shriefklike a dying Hippogryff. Quickly, she snatched the book away. "Quietus!" The book, subdued, subsided into silence once more.

But they had already attracted the attention of Madam Pince, the librarian. "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley! Friday evening or not, this is still a library! I'm sorry to interrupt your little romantic rendez-vous, but if you cannot be quiet, I will be forced to ask you to leave. Two points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"Well done, Malfoy," Ginny hissed as soon as Madam Pince was out of earshot.

Draco shrugged fluidly. "Look at it this way, Weasley, at least you don't have to go to a detention with me."

Ginny frowned, half amused, half annoyed. "Whatever. Don't you have any homework to do? Must you sit here and bother me?" She sneered. "Oh, wait, your father pays for all your good marks, doesn't he?" Collecting her book, she returned to her reading, not even bothering to hide the cover inside the magazine any longer. If her brother were to come across her now, he'd be much more incensed by Malfoy's presence than by something trifling like a Dark Arts instruction manual.

Draco ignored her jibe, almost as if it weren't worth a riposte. "My father has that book," he said idly.

"Yes, I'm sure he does," Ginny replied tartly. "Why don't you go home and read it? Then you can leave me alone."

Draco pretended to wince. "Such a temper." He leaned back again, the sly smirk again on his face. "Don't hate me just because I'm rich and amazingly attractive, Weasley."

Ginny raised her head, and her face twisted into a falsely cheery smile. "Oh, alright, Malfoy," she said sweetly. "I'll hate you because you're an arrogant prat instead."

Eyes narrowing, Draco smiled slowly, impressed once again by Ginny's ability to toss sarcastic jibes back and forth. This was not the Ginny Weasley who would burst into tears at the slightest thing, who looked like a terrified waif. Certainly not the Ginny Weasley that Draco himself had mocked when she sent Potter that miserable singing Valentine.

Potter. It was so good to know Ginny was no longer interested in him. Ginny was too fiery, too sexy, too intelligent, too everything. She didn't belong with someone like Pathetic Potter.

Who does she belong with, Draco? his inner voice taunted.

Me, Draco thought back, mentally shooting the voice a glare that could cow a dozen dementors. He returned his attention to the pretty redhead in front of him. She was dragging her eyes sullenly across the pages, clearly unable to concentrate now that he'd irritated her, but unwilling to be the one who left the library first. Besides, she was too good at this game, and he could tell she enjoyed it. She was waiting for him.

"Ginny," he said impulsively. Now. Now was the time to ask her. He'd worry about the Belletons later; he couldn't miss another opportunity with Ginny.

"What?" she asked, not lifting her head.

"Come on a date with me."

A brief pause, then- "Alright," Ginny replied nonchalantly, eyes still glued to a picture of Dark Sorceress Zoyanastra, who was glaring and lofting her wand menacingly. "When?"

Draco kept his expression neutral, not wanting to show how pleased he was by her affirmative response. "Tomorrow afternoon."

Now she looked up, the smallest smile playing about her lips. "Don't you have a Quidditch match tomorrow afternoon?" Try to play me, Draco Malfoy, and I will kill you. Ginny hoped he couldn't see how tightly she was gripping the edge of the book; she could almost feel her knuckles whitening.

Draco shook his head. "Madam Hooch changed the order. It's Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff tomorrow. We play tomorrow's loser next weekend."

Ginny thought briefly of Fiona. Ginny had promised to be at the game, but... if Fiona and Bronwen found out Ginny had postponed a date with Draco for a mere Quidditch match, they'd never let her hear the end of it.

"Fine," Ginny decided aloud. "When and where do I meet you, and what should I wear?"

Draco rose from his chair, triumph exuding from every feature. "Right before lunch, outside the Arithmancy classroom," he replied, choosing a place that was roughly halfway for each of them- he had to guess, since he still didn't know precisely where the Gryffindor common room was. "As little as possible. See you tomorrow, Weasley."

As little as possible? What had Malfoy meant by that? Ginny frowned, then realization dawned. She had asked him what she should wear. A tiny grin tugged gently at the edges of her mouth, and she slid lower in her chair, awash with giddiness and astonishment at her own recent actions. Livid with him today, date with him tomorrow, she thought. I am a bloody nutcase.

***

It wasn't until Draco was halfway down the hall from the library that he realized the significance of what had just transpired.

He had asked Harry Potter's girlfriend to go on a date with him, and she had said yes. Granted, she wasn't actually with Harry, but most of the school thought she was, and that was what mattered.

A slow smile spread across Draco's face, and he was hard-pressed to prevent it from turning into a grin. He was in such an excellent mood, he didn't even bother to glare menacingly at two first-year Gryffindors as he passed them.

His eyes lit, though, when he spotted a certain sixth-year Gryffindor making his way down the hall to the library. He just had to say something to Potter. Draco was already on top of the world today, but verbally raking Potter over the coals would further add to his victory. He wouldn't mention the date; that was Ginny's responsibility, and the pleasant rewards of Potter's reaction to it would likely come later. But he could still toy with Harry. No good day missed an opportunity to taunt one of the Gryffindor Three.

Draco leaned comfortably against the wall, acting as if he had absolutely nothing better to do with his time than offer the occasional snide remark to passerby. "Good afternoon, Potter," he drawled pleasantly, leaving an opening for Harry to make the first uncharitable comment. It had always been that way- to Draco's way of thinking, Harry had been the one to sow the discord between the two of them. Never mind that it was now Draco who went out of his way to further their enmity. More than anything, it had simply become habit.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry snapped. "I'm busy." But he had paused a few steps away from Draco, clearly unwilling to simply walk past and ignore Draco's sarcastic greeting.

"Just wanted to say hello," Draco replied, pretending offense. "And compliment you on your good taste. I just encountered your girlfriend in there," he said, gesturing at the doors to the library, "and I must say, she's lovely."

Confusion passed over Harry's features, then something Draco couldn't read, and finally anger. "You leave Ginny alone, Malfoy. She's never done anything to you."

But I wish she would, Draco thought snidely. "She's fine, Potter, don't worry. Like I said, I meant it as a compliment."

Harry recoiled, his eyes flashing green fire. "You needn't have wasted your time. I already knew I had good taste- it's why I don't associate with you." Pushing past Draco, Harry shoved through the library doors, his body language radiating anger.

Smile returning to Draco's face, he made his way back to the Slytherin common room, feeling as if very little could improve his day.

***