Trademark smirks and Temperamental redheads

Chapter Seven - Just before Christmas (Fifth Year)

Ginny moved slowly along the hallway, dragging her feet on the ground so that her boots made a scraping noise against the tiled floor. Detention had been dull and tiring. As she was the only one with detention that night, she had had the pleasure of cleaning out the dusty old storage room of the Transfiguration classroom all by herself.

The storage room had contained some rather funny looking objects, Ginny tidied up the containers of buttons and matches first. She could still remember trying to turn her button into a beetle during her first year, it had ended up sprouting six wobbly legs and scurried off the edge of the table.

The dusty room was full of snuffboxes complete with whiskers still attached or wriggly tails. There were also a few teapots that had shell patterns on it, and one even had a spout that could withdraw itself into the teapot when Ginny moved it to an upper shelf.

Ginny wondered why Professor McGonagall even bothered to keep these failed attempts at transfiguration; all she had to do was flick her wand and they could be returned to normal, ready for the next student to use.

She was so tired from her detention she could barely lift her head up to see where she was going, which consequently led her walk into someone. Ginny rubbed her nose gently, looking up to see who she had bumped into. A brown haired, blue-eyed boy smirked back at her.

"Weasley, tsk tsk, out of bed in the middle of the night, I could take points from Gryffindor for this." Blaise Zabini grinned at her.

"Sod of Zabini, I just got off from detention," Ginny retorted, pushing past him and continuing down the corridor.

The Slytherin quickened his pace to match hers, finally stopping in front of her, effectively blocking her path.

"What's the hurry Weasley?" he drawled, Ginny just glared at him. "And here I thought we could begin a beautiful friendship between us," Zabini feigned a hurt expression.

"I'm sorry, but that idea just doesn't seem very appealing to me. I wonder why?" Ginny replied, angrily trying to slip past him.

"Oh come now Weasley, you don't have to be scared. Unlike Malfoy, I'm very gentle with ladies. You could ask your friend Sara, if you don't believe me, although she did prefer to play rough." Zabini's grin widened at Ginny's shocked expression.

"What are you talking about Zabini? Explain this!" Ginny demanded.

"Oh, you didn't know Weasley? Your friend Sara, came to me for help on some...boy troubles, being the gentleman that I am, I agreed to assist her - in return for some services," he emphasized the last word, raising his eyebrow slightly.

Ginny looked away feeling sick. He couldn't be telling the truth, he just couldn't.

"You know, I've always been partial to redheads, it's the fiery personalities they have to match their hair," Zabini drawled, taking a lock of Ginny's hair and inhaling its scent, Ginny jerked away disgusted.

"Get away from me, you disgusting jerk."

"Weasley, such language," Zabini replied in mock horror, he drew closer to her. "You'd look amazing with the right clothing and accessories. You were made to shine, be my girl and I can guarantee nobody will ever look down their nose at you again. Even Malfoy." Zabini wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist, pulling her closer to him.

Ginny struggled, giving him an elbow in the chest and stepping down on his foot with all the force she could muster. He gave a yelp of pain and let her go, watching as she ran down the corridor, towards Gryffindor Tower.

~~~

"Aggressive isn't she? Positively vicious when she gets angry too," Draco drawled from the shadows.

"Malfoy," Zabini replied, trying to compose himself. "Why didn't you say something? Hiding in the shadows isn't like you."

Draco's eyes flashed menacingly. "Stay away from her, Zabini," he said quietly, malice dripping off every word.

Zabini scowled darkly and walked away with a slight limp to his left leg.

"Oh and Zabini?" He turned around, a questioning look on his face. "Don't ever, compare yourself to me."

~~~

Ginny had barely climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor Common Room when she heard sobs coming from the couch in front of the fireplace. The common room was deserted. Curious, Ginny walked closer and saw to her surprise, Sara bent double on the couch with her face in her hands. She looked up at the sound of Ginny's footsteps.

"Ginny," Sara said in a small voice.

"What's wrong Sara?" Ginny asked, concerned.

"It's D-Draco, he-he doesn't want me anymore!" she sobbed. "I know that he's a bastard and I'm stupid for loving him, but I can't help it!"

~~~

Draco was seated at a table in the back of the library, his head bent over a potions essay. He turned around as he felt hands gently rubbing his back - it was the Gryffindor girl. He smiled inwardly, only last night; he was planning to break it off with this girl. He usually went for Slytherins or Ravenclaws since they had enough brains to realize that he was not in it for anything other than a physical relationship. Gryffindors were unsuitable due to their loyal and affectionate temperaments. Basically, they were too clingy for him. One Pansy was enough to test his limits. He decided to be blunt and outright cruel.

"Draco. Why didn't you come visit me in the Hospital Wing? I missed you," she whispered softly in his ear.

Draco stood up to face her, using his thumb to trace her jaw. "Sara," he said quietly.

"Yes?"

"You seem to have misunderstood." He smirked slightly as she looked up, alarm present in her features. "I have no intention of ever seeing you again."

At this, the girl pulled away, her brows furrowed in confusion, her mouth slightly open.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, searching his eyes frantically.

"I was bored, and you were there. It was just convenience Sara, I hope you didn't take it too seriously." Draco's smirk widened, his gray eyes shining cold and cruel.

"No," she was shaking her head. "No, Draco, we're perfect for each other-"

"Perfect?" Draco laughed, making her shiver. "A Malfoy does not associate with commoners, Sara. Need I remind you that you're a Gryffindor, and a mudblood at that?"

"I hate you!" she hissed at him, tears streaming down her face.

"Thank Merlin for that," he countered.

He left, knowing he had said enough.

~~~

Ginny couldn't think of anything to say. All she could do was sit there, as Sara held onto her, unable to stop the tears from flowing. She wanted to console her, tell her that it wasn't so bad. But every time she thought about the encounter with Blaise, and Malfoy's words that night, she couldn't speak, didn't know what to say.

"Sara, listen to me." Ginny held the weeping girl at arms length, forcing her to look up. "Why are you crying over Malfoy? He doesn't deserve your tears, think about what he did to you. You can't let him know that he won Sara, you have to be strong. You're a Gryffindor! Show him your strength, let him know it's his loss, and that you're even happier without him." Ginny silently prayed she'd said the right thing.

Apparently she had, for when she looked at Sara, she had stopped crying and was looking at her with a dazed expression on her face.

"You're right Ginny. I have to fight, I can't let Malfoy think he's affected me. He's a jerk, and he's not worth my time," Sara said, gaining confidence with each word. Ginny nodded enthusiastically in response.

Sara leaned over and gave Ginny a tight hug. "Thank you, Ginny." Sara's eyes were shining, and a smile was on her face. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief and returned the hug.

~~~

For the next few weeks, everyone was busy preparing their agenda for the Christmas vacations. Sara's parents were taking her to Switzerland for a ski trip, and Melissa was going with her father for more negotiations with the goblins. Ginny sighed at her friends' good luck, she was stuck at The Burrow with Percy as Fred and George and the Trio had decided to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. It was going to be a very, boring vacation.

As the others packed, chatting excitedly about their Christmas plans, Ginny contemplated the idea of borrowing a few books from the library to keep her occupied during vacation. There was the Transfiguration research task she had been assigned, and some extra study on Potions wouldn't go amiss either. She hurried to the library, wanting to make it back before dinner started.

Ginny walked along the Potions shelf searching for a book about Wit-Sharpening Potions, she pulled out random books and read the titles.

"Swelling Solutions and its antidotes, Potions for difficult pets - What to do when you have a werewolf on your hands, Hair raising potions - whether you have too much or too little hair, this is the book for you, Memory Solutions - written expressly for Neville Longbottom's personal use." Someone had obviously transformed the words purposely to say that. Ginny raised an eyebrow at this last book. "Well, someone certainly needs a new hobby."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Ginny turned around at Malfoy's words. He was leaning against the tall bookshelf, a half-grin on his face. "You can't say it's not true. I heard Longbottom smuggled the book out of here, and hid it under his bed for three days, before Madame Pince demanded it back."

Ginny almost managed a small smile, before her face took on a frown.

"Whatever," she muttered, remembering she wasn't on speaking terms with the Slytherin. She slammed the book back into the shelf, and walked off towards the transfiguration section, on the other side of the library.

"Are you still on about that incident with your friend Sara?" Ginny let out an exasperated growl as Malfoy kept her pace. "I don't believe this, what do you expect me to do? She slept with Blaise Zabini in order to get close to me, Weasley. If I associated with someone like that, I'd be the laughing stock of Slytherin House. Not to mention my father would probably have my head for it. What the hell makes it my fault anyway? I didn't lead her on, and she willingly offered herself to me. I merely told her the reasons why we couldn't continue," Malfoy explained reasonably. He frowned slightly as he continued to follow Ginny, why was he trying to explain himself to the Weasley?

By this time they had reached the transfiguration section, and within hearing range of Madame Pince. Ginny lowered her voice.

"OK, I'm sorry for not believing what you told me. I know Sara did a lot of reckless things and you can't be blamed for it." At this, Malfoy's trademark smirk returned. Ginny frowned. "But, it was still wrong of you to act the way you did."

"What can I say? I'm a Slytherin," at Ginny's scowl, he continued. "I wasn't brought up to play nice Weasley. If she can't take my words without euphemism, I can't be held responsible for it."

"Pfft," Ginny rolled her eyes.

"What?" Malfoy asked innocently.

"I'm going to dinner," Ginny said, heading for the entrance. She paused slightly in thought. "Have a nice Christmas," she called over her shoulder, before striding swiftly out of the library.

~~~

Draco was tired; after a long train trip and dreadful portkey journey, he had arrived home at Malfoy Manor. All he wanted was a nice long refreshing shower, and to lounge about his room reading Quidditch Illustrated for the rest of the day, but he knew that'd have to wait. First task at hand was to report to his father about what was happening at school. He sighed resignedly, straightened his shoulders and walked towards the library. He rapped sharply on the heavy oak door twice and waited.

The doors were opened by a small house elf, which quickly disappeared as soon as his task was complete.

"Father," Draco spoke, facing the older man's backside.

"Ah, Draco, I trust you had an enjoyable term at Hogwarts?" his father inquired, turning to face his son.

"Yes, Father," Draco answered absently.

"Oh?" his father raised his eyebrows, taking a seat behind his desk. "I would think that losing to Harry Potter at Quidditch for the third time would've had a rather dire affect on your spirits."

"It was a minor defeat, only twenty points in difference," Draco tried to explain.

"I see," his father said slowly. "It is very disheartening to see the Malfoy heir readily, even eagerly, accepting defeat. What is the use of your being on the Quidditch team if only to lose to Harry Potter each time you play against him? I cannot allow you to continue tarnishing the Malfoy name thus. Perhaps it would be best if I requested your resignation from the team?"

"No!" Draco said in alarm, before collecting himself. "I will train harder this year, Father. I will not let you down again."

"Very well, you have been warned. Let me also remind you, there is the issue of your final examinations to keep in mind, your constant lack of progress in this area upsets me greatly Draco. I have yet to receive report of you surpassing Hermione Granger in any subject. Is the tutor your mother hired not competent in his duty, or is it perhaps you are too unperceptive to be educated?" His father leaned back against his soft dragon-hide chair, cold eyes narrowed slightly.

Draco could feel his annoyance growing, as he stood there frozen in place, trying not to ball his hands into fists. It would not help anything, for him to lose his temper with his father. Taking a moment to compose himself, he spoke slowly.

"I understand father, I am studying very hard on all my subjects, and Professor Snape says I have a good chance of coming first this year."

Lucius gave a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"You must remember that being made Prefect is not enough, I expect much more from my son, Draco. Enough." Lucius sat up from his chair, leaning slightly on the table in front. "Let us discuss your progress on the tasks I've set you."

It was Draco's turn to nod.

"I've been keeping an eye on Potter, though he and his sidekicks seem very quiet this year. I suspect Dumbledore has requested they keep a low profile in case of the Dark Lord's appearance. I will of course, owl you immediately on any news I hear during the term. I've kept relations with the Slytherins affable, though I strongly suspect many will not be suitable for the Dark Lord's purposes. Most of them have big mouths, little wit and absolutely no sense," Draco finished, adopting a disgusted expression.

Lucius studied his son in amusement.

"Such as Pansy Parkinson perhaps?" he smirked at his son's slight scowl. "Have I not made it clear that I consider her the only suitable candidate for the position of the future Mrs Malfoy? I am willing to turn a blind eye to your other social activities, but I advise you to keep relations affectionate between you and Miss Parkinson. Is that clear Draco?"

"Yes Father. But as I've said before, she will never become my wife. I will find another that you approve of or I will never wed," Draco replied stubbornly, he was tired of this talk.

"You are obstinate Draco. But we shall leave this for later. Go and visit your mother, she's expecting you in the gardens."

Draco bowed his head slightly, before leaving the dank musty atmosphere of the library to join his mother in the Venomous Tentacula gardens for tea.