Everybody Loves Ginny Weasley

Chapter Two: Draco in Muggleland.

I hate it when people look at me the way Potter looked at me right then. It's like you just don't feel like being there, you know you just said or did something horribly wrong. In my case, I said something I probably should not have said, especially in front of my nemesis, my main enemy - you know - the same old shit.

I wonder if I ever could have made Harry Oh I'm So Special Potter so happy as he was in that very moment. Imagine that, I just revealed my only soft spot right there and then, so he didn't have to fight for it. He didn't have to point his wand towards my heart, muttering the beginning of the spells that really hurt. Oh no, not this bloke, not Harry Potter. No, he just gave Draco Malfoy a potion that somehow made the King of Self-control lose his mind completely and just blurt out whatever it was that was on his mind.

Well, if that didn't make sense, I don't know what would.

"Malfoy," Potter started again, looking at me with caution. It seemed like he was certain I'd just lost my mind, and he, of every little inhabitant in his bloody world, was going to give it back to me. "Are you aware of what you just said out loud?"

As a matter of fact, I wasn't. Of course not, I didn't even know I had spoken out loud. Christ, how long had I been speaking? How much? And how had I been speaking? Low, high, or with this romantic twist that I use everytime I need to act myself into getting laid? Oh my God, I just felt like drowning myself, but there was no water nearby, so I had to think about other suicide methods.

"Yes, I am," I lied, hoping Potter didn't have this seventh sense or whatever (Potter has them all, his sixth is to always be wherever the trouble is, and of course getting away with it) so he could see either I was lying or something. Or maybe I was talking out loud my thoughts now as well. But judging by Potter's look, I wasn't. "I wonder if you did," I added. "Did it make any, er, sense to you?"

"You mean the part where you said you needed Ginny Weasley more than your morning coffee?"

Oh sod off already.

"I don't drink coffee in the morning, Potty," I said, trying to sound confident, "nor do I drink water. This was, of course, only a way of -" Oh fuck was I in trouble now "- speaking, see? I'm not into drinking early in the morning, me." Well, I was telling the truth, right? And this serum Potter had given me, was not exactly Veritasserium. Believe me. In other words, Potter didn't seem to have the authority I first believed he had.

"Right," Potter said with a small smile on his face. "You don't... Need Ginny Weasley then."

"Not right now, anyway."

"Good, good..." He sounded like a teacher, or that he was ten years older than me, teaching me about life. That is, honestly, his problem. "So, why don't you tell me how you and Ginny got... You know..."

"Seriously, Potter, I'm not giving you any information about my sex- life. You got to give me stronger stuff than this serum you've given me. And, I think, that my actions involves too much of, how shall I place this, graphic and words you'd hardly understand... I'd end up giving you nightmares, Potty, worse than the ones you've already got."

"Ah, I see," Potter said, and now he gave me a gaze that he usually spares to the ones that most defiant is insane. This... Motherly look of grace and pity. If Potter ever gets children I'd personally adopt them to try to keep them normal. "But I was not asking about your sex- life, Malfoy, even thought I hardly doubt it is not interesting. I was asking how you two got together. Ginny lives, as you know, in the Muggle world. And you do, as I know, detest the Muggles."

"Nasty little buggers, aren't they?" I heard myself saying. A sudden pain in my left wrist made me almost feel like Potter there for a moment (except his head feels like it's going to blow up. Wonder why it haven't already. But then again, he's quite thick- headed and not to speak about big- headed, so I suppose it's a lot to blow up all at once). I gave my wrist a glance, and discovered my well- known Mark glow darkly underneath the small amount of blood which still had not been cleaned off me. I reckoned I had to look like hell.

I then weightened the possibilities of me getting out of Potter's grip by saying I'd been called by the Dark Lord. Or, in my case, the Red Mistress. Better not mention it.

"Oh yes," I said heavily. "I met Ginny Weasley, or Red Fly as she called herself, at this small pub down this road in this city..."

"Does this small pub, this road or this city have a name?" Fuck Auror- Potter.

"No, it's one of these anonymous cities without streetnames."

"Cheeky... I think you need a new shot of my dear potion here," Potter said, and walked over to me. Obviously, I was supposed to drink this shit he brought, and as he tried to make me, he could not miss my glowing mark. He froze, looked down at my wrist, and then at my face. I wonder how I looked like, because he gave me the most horrible look ever. He almost threw himself back from me as if I was the Dark Lord of the Universe (I know, my biggest dream, but come on, bear with me), and he didn't manage to speak, so I spoke for him:

"Say we do it my way then? Remove these fucking ropes, let me bang your head towards the wall a few times so you come back down to earth, and I'll tell you the fucking story of your precious Ginny Weasley, all right?"

:::

Potter is a very good boy when it comes to it. He's bright too, yes, he even surprised me. I didn't bang his head, because I knew I'd end up in serious trouble if I did. Imagine that, little ickle newbie Draco thinking about what would happen if he did that. If my father had not screwed up the way he did and got himself killed, I'm quite certain he would have been proud. But then again, a fucked up fuckward like Lucius Malfoy didn't know any other feelings than the one that made him love himself so deeply he did.

Sod him, sod Potter, I'll be Lord of the World any day now. Hah.

"As I said," I breathed as I sat freely in my chair now, looking at the tied- up Potter, or Harry as he suggested I'd call him. "I met Ginny in a pub in a street in a city. That is all you need to know about it. Now, that's about a year ago, about the same time as you and Granger got yourself into serious trouble when you tried to befriend the whole world by saying 'No Fight, Yes Right' or whatever it was. Of course you ended up having every party in the world except the Right side against you, so much for peace, right? So, I was thinking, fuck off, I'm not going to be a part of this crap the Ministry is up to, I'll go blast myself on Muggle drugs and see what would happen.

"Blasting myself senseless on Muggle alcohol is one thing, their drugs is another. I did neither of them, as I had to pretend this was a matter of the Ministry, since we were all into making peace and sing songs like we did in the sixties. Anyway, I ended up at the pub with this other wizard who got himself almost killed by a Muggle, and I was attacked by a big man who said I had made his wife pregnant. I asked if she was a Muggle - I mean, you know me, Potter. Me, shagging a Muggle, for real? Obviously he thought it was some kind of bad word, got offended, and was about to beat me senseless, when Red Fly jumped out of nowhere, and told Oliver, which was the big bastard's name, to fuck off.

"I saw it was her, and I believe she reckoned it was me as well, because she asked me if I didn't appreciate my life too much hanging around there, messing with people three times my size. I asked what the fuck she was doing down here, and glanced at her clothing, and then I asked again; What the fuck she was doing here without any clothes.

"She told me that she was wearing clothes, and I asked her where. 'For your information, Malfoy,' she said with her very kind and spicy voice so hard and full of hatred towards me it was touchable, 'this happens to be my uniform.' I'm not always too clever, me, when it comes to having a decent conversation with an almost naked girl outside of a pub. 'It's a bikini?' she tried to enlighten me. 'You know, a lot of people wear it like on the beach?'

"Right, I'm a wizard. Pure-blood, all that. Look at my skin, Potter, do you think I go to the beach too often? No, I don't, you're absolutely right. I hate the beach, never been there, but I hate it. It turned out, that this pub were shooting pictures for this calendar in the back. Naughty, naughty, I was thinking, but again the gods let me down."

"She's a model, yes I know," Potter said. "In Muggle- magazines, right?"

"How the fuck shall I know? I told you, I'm only shagging the witch, I'm not asking if she goes fishing Sundays or whatever. She doesn't, you know. Hates fish, can understand her, totally. Fish are no good, never liked fish too much, me. Ginny tried to make me eat sushi once, I remember. Got too mad at those two sticks that was supposed to help me to eat the shit, so that I threw it across the table and ended up with a furious Ginny that almost put the Crucio on me. And that was just to make me feel what it was like to get rice and fish into my eyes.

"Anyway, she got more clothes at her body, and I was kind of busy with the nice models all over when she whispered into my ear that they were all Muggles. Good grace. I was almost touching a Muggle because she looked so darn gorgeous. Believe me, it didn't change my bloody attitude towards those Muggles, though. Why would it? It was, after all, only a few girls wearing nothing but a bikini, and honestly, Ginny was the prettiest among them. So, as usual, Draco Malfoy left the building with the most gorgeous girl around."

"Er, Draco?"

"That's Malfoy to you."

"Malfoy, then. You hate Ginny Weasley, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I did. Do. That's none of your business, Potter." Always been nosy, that prick. "Anyway, I said I was lost, and she offered to show me the way back to wherever I came from. Of course, I am a Malfoy, and therefore I have this charm that no girl could resist. So she followed me all the way back to London, and I felt like a child who had been out after dark and now my mother came and picked me up.

"She is nothing like my mother was, anyway. Not that I forgive you for killing my mother, Potter. That was a personal insult, and I will make sure you'll pay you little - ferret." Oh God, I've been waiting long to call him that, but he didn't look too offended. Weird, I go crazy every time someone calls me such a thing. "She said she lived just across the street from the Leaky Cauldron, and that I could pay her a visit once if I felt like it.

"I think it was rather obvious that I was attracted to her, she spoke with quite some confidence in her voice, as if she knew she didn't look like the freckled little girl whom I went to school with. I haven't changed much, me. Still the same colour of my hair, eyes and skin, still the same face and the same height as in my sixth year. Yes, Potter, no need to rub it in - I know you're taller than me. But I'd rather be not too high with a fantastic body than high and thin like you. You look bloody sick, Potty, I look way too good to be true.

"Anyway, I told Ginny I'd think about it if I was around her apartment again, which was very possible as I practically lived in the Leaky Cauldron these days. She just stood there for quite some time, saying nothing - just gazing at me, and I was afraid either I had to pay her for her company, or her finding the way back to the Leaky Cauldron. I mean, I thought she earned money at this modelling, but for a minute I was sure she was waiting for a Galleon or five. I was about to ask her when she said 'Good- bye' and turned I so quickly I didn't have the chance to even open my fucking mouth to reply. Don't know why I did that, really.

"That was rude, even for me."

"So," Potter said slowly, as he seemed not to be to afraid of me anyway. He obviously picked up his job again as though he was in the bloody lead. Not too bright then, this lad, as I thought earlier. "You turned up at her place then, I suppose?"

"Of course not," I replied quickly. "I met her, just like that, in the Diagon Alley a few days afterwards. It was summer, you know, last summer. There were loads of upcoming pupils, and she was working at Madam Malkin's place. I just happened to walk into the shop, as I was looking for a new cloak for the fall, when she stood there with her arms in cross and a small smile on her face.

"She said: 'Don't suppose you're a bit old to attend to Hogwarts this year?' The nerves of this person. 'No,' I probably snarled back, as I don't act too nice when other people are around. It's all about image, Potter. Yours is gentle and like an angel, mine is sneering and like the opposite of an angel even if my looks is like one - and we all see who gets laid the most, right?"

"Don't fool yourself," Potter replied lazily, "there is nothing about you that reminds me of an angel." Oh God I felt like cutting his throat off. Actually, I've been wondering about that; would he survive that? He lives over the Killing Curse, but a Muggle- method like that would probably do the trick. I could even blame the Muggles! Oh dear God, I'm brilliant, almost too brilliant for my own good.

"Really?" I said, "is that so?"

"Yup," Potter replied, blinking with his eyes as if he suddenly remembered how to blink again after six years. "Angels looks innocent, for a start. You don't." Oh right, so I look guilty, eh? How come I never get the blame when something is wrong? It must be my looks, it can't possibly be my influence over the entire Ministry, now could it? Hold on... Oh, maybe. "And you got evil eyes." As it is, Ginny said my eyes did look a bit - horrible, was it? Remind me to figure out something horrible about her deep chocolate brown eyes later. There must be something.

"Lucky you're not ever going to consider to shag me then," I said while my mouth twisted into my famous smirk.

"Yeah," Potter said, frowning. "Yes, lucky me. I'm glad to see that we actually share the same thought about that." Oh good God, I have to disagree, disagree, dammit! I can't let Potter have this, not this! Agree? Share? Share the same thought? Who? Potter and me? Bloody hell. "Something wrong, Malfoy?" Shite. He probably got this dirty thought about me disagreeing with him, having deep dreams about him and... God, I can't even think about it. I need help. Potter did actually look a bit uncomfortable. In other words, he was sure I'm gay and just about to declare my love towards him. Dream. On. Potter.

"Right," I said, rubbing my face with my right hand. "So, when we're done with both agreeing we're straight, should we perhaps move on?"

"Yeah," Potter said hastily, nodding hard. Somehow, the attitude between us changed for a moment, it didn't last for long, though. The both of us were so busy making sure our guard was never down that we didn't say anything for a while. In that way, we're quite the same, Potter and me. We got a bloody reputation going on, none of us could risk the other getting any dirty secrets to spread to the world. When the quiet moment ended, so was the discussion about the gay- matter.

I was, after all, being questioned about Ron Weasley nearly breaking his neck while I was watching, not about either I was straight or not.

:::

"So, after me giving Ginny an apology for my rude behaviour earlier, she told me not to mention it. It turned out that she was working in Madam Malkin's shop just 'for the fun of it' as she put it. I asked her if her bikini- job wasn't paying good enough, and she said that the bikini- season was over now, at least in Britain, so they didn't need anyone to model it anymore. To be honest with you, I didn't know there was something called 'bikini- season' at all. I didn't tell her, of course, I only nodded my head and said 'of course, of course' like an old man. She just smiled brilliantly, however, and asked me if I did have any business here at all except asking her about bikinis'.

"I did, of course, and told her that I needed a new cloak as my old one was dirty. She told me the name of some kind of laundry, but honestly, me - washing my own clothes? Come on. It was dirty, yes, but also old. She showed me the news from different countries, but I suppose you know how fucking beautiful those eyes of hers are? I only stood there, nodding like some kind of sodding idiot, probably with an extremely lame smile on my face. And, mind you, after seeing the gal in nothing but a teeny bikini, it's not too easy to look at and say your what you think about some boring cloaks.

"She's a clever witch, you know, and probably noticed I kept staring at her and just nod like some dumb ass, and I vaguely heard her say: 'Winnie the Poo wore this cloak at this hundredth birthday, you know, and Christopher Robin quite enjoyed the party, I'd say, I wish I was there, don't you?' I knew, deep down, that this was some kind of trick. Thanking God for my clever mind, I said: 'I never liked Winnie The Poo that much, nor his parties,' and she gave me another brilliant grin. I was about to add 'because he's created by a Muggle' but her smile made me forget it. I did pay attention, you know. I know more about Italian cloaks than about myself now.

"I mean, you just... You just get addicted to her, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Potter replied, and I could have punched him for saying such a thing. He looked stern and bloody honest, and I got so jealous for some reason I could hardly control myself. Then I remembered; I was sleeping with her, he wasn't. Why should I care if Potter was attracted to my very good- looking girlfriend?

Potter looked like he was dreaming, and I knew I could take advance of this. I asked him, in a soothing voice, as smooth as silk, a voice I knew he would never consider as my own:

"You love her, don't you?" He kept staring at me, his eyes big and dumb, and his freaking look made me shiver, but I could not look away now. Imagine the head- lines I could create: "Potter in love with his enemy's girlfriend", or something. I could make my propaganda- secretary to make up a good one. A one- liner that would create history, a... Hold on, Potty was about to speak. At least it looked that way. He kept opening his mouth and closing it again like a goldfish.

For Merlin's sake, speak now or forever be silent.

This was starting to freak me out.

When he finally spoke, his eyes were like he was on drugs, and he looked like he'd just lost a war.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, I do."