Why Do You Stare

Why do you stare?

He walked down the corridor, stealthily following her footsteps, careful to be silent and alert. He knew he didn't have to be this careful though, if anyone did catch them, he could get out of the situation by insulting her. He let the thought fade away, he enjoyed trailing her from the shadows, it gave him a strange sense of contentment as he studied her profile against the dim lighting of the hallways.

He looked up when she opened the door to an empty classroom, leaving the door open behind her. He smirked and went through the doorway, silently closing the door so that he heard the faint click of the knob locking.

She was already sitting at a table near the front of the room, her eyes trained on the open textbook in front of her. He went and sat down at the teacher's desk, staring at her intently as her eyes darted across the page, and then back again as she began a new line. He watched as she absently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, eyebrows narrowed slightly in concentration. He moved back in his chair, deliberately scraping the legs on the floor in a screech, when he was done, he propped his legs up on the desk in front of him, a smirk on his face. She was frowning.

"Why do you insist on stalking me?" she asked unmoved, her eyes still reading her book.

Draco shrugged. "If you don't like the staring we could always move on to more satisfactory activity." He gestured to the empty room suggestively.

"I only came here because your staring at me in the library was becoming painfully obvious to everyone else," she said, her brows furrowing further.

Draco smirked at her but remained silent. They reverted back to their previous activities until the air in the room took on a chill and she shivered. She closed her book with a small thud and pushed it back into her bag, she stood up, carefully tucking in the chair under the table before stepping out of the room.

Ginny began to walk down the corridor but stopped when a cold hand touched her shoulder, she felt him draping his cloak over her. She remained still for a while, before reaching around to pull the cloak more tightly around her. Ginny turned her head slightly in acknowledgment of his gesture and continued down the corridor, going back to her dormitory.

It wasn't the staring that bothered her; in fact, it was oddly relaxing for her. Neither, was it due to his amazingly ambiguous replies whenever she'd ask him a question. It was the way he appeared by her side and disappeared again without a moment's notice. The way he'd sense she wanted to be left alone and smirk, turning on his heels and walk away dramatically, his robes bellowing behind him. The way he almost smiled on those rare days when she almost let on that she enjoyed his presence. The way he gave subtle hints when she became frustrated with Potions homework.

And yet, he had never given her a single clue as to why he had developed this subtle fascination of her, never told her why he followed her around the school, staring at her in silence. His silence was odd, especially when he was known to use his annoying drawl to seek attention for himself at all times.

She climbed into bed, bringing his cloak in with her. She laid it out over her pillow and took in his scent, it was faint, yet lingering, encircling her as she slept. Her hand on the soft, silky material, her flame-red hair spilling around her face like a mask as she slept. And she dreamed. Dreamed about Tom, her beloved friend and confidant, about Harry, her idol, her hero, about Draco Malfoy, her...

When she eventually woke up the next morning, it had been from a nightmare in which the twins were holding her captive and using her for their explosive experiments. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, his cloak had landed on the floor and she bent over and picked it up quickly, folding it up and placing it at the bottom of her bag.

This time, she had been in the empty classroom for over an hour before he came, she briefly wondered if he performed Locating Charms on her. He took his seat at the teacher's desk then, content to study her as she measured and calculated her star charts for astronomy.

Ginny stretched, her neck and spine protesting with loud cracking sounds. She looked up to see his grey eyes on her, and for once, curiosity got the better of her. She stood up and tucked her chair in, taking off her cloak and draping it over her bag carefully. Then, slowly, she made her way towards him, he watched, never taking his eyes off of her for a moment. She sat down at the edge of the desk, facing him. Her skirt was short, barely going to mid-thigh; after all, it had been two years since she last had some new clothing. When she sat, the skirt rode up even further, and she knew he was getting distracted. He still smirked though, the smirk that would drive her brother wild and want to wipe it off his face with a nicely aimed punch.

"What do you want from me?" she asked quietly. He merely shrugged.

"Do you want sex?" she asked again. This time he didn't shrug, she watched as his eyes twinkled slightly. She got off the desk and came closer to him, plopping herself down in his lap. She gently laid her arms on his shoulders, as his own automatically came up to fit snugly around her waist. She leaned forward tentatively, brushing her lips across his. She pulled back to judge his reaction, his smirk was still in place, an eyebrow raised, studying her in return.

"Don't you want to kiss me?" she asked.

"Do you want me to?" he replied. She looked at his face for a while, before leaning closer, pressing her lips against his. She had never kissed anyone before, and briefly wondered if he was going to respond at all.

Before she could contemplate this further, his lips parted, his tongue darting out to glide softly over her own lips. The bottom lip first, then the upper lip, before resting in between them. His tongue pushed gently against her teeth, and she opened her mouth for him. His tongue sought after her own, chasing it as her tongue shied away. She closed her eyes then, concentrating solely on the feel of his lips against hers, the way his tongue felt in her mouth. The kiss was slow, unhurried, each exploring the other's mouth, gently, curiously.

She pulled away then, opening her eyes to stare into his grey ones. She ran her tongue along her lips to find that they were slightly swollen, her eyes wandered down to his lips and saw the same. She leaned in and licked them like he had done for her, he didn't protest, merely stayed still until she was done.

She got off his lap, smirking inwardly as his arms lingered around her waist before she moved out of reach. It had been an experience, but she was still no closer to understanding his motives for following her. She frowned as she turned her back to him and picked up her bag and cloak. She stopped briefly, dug into her bag and pulled out his carefully folded cloak. She placed it on the desk in front of him and walked out of the classroom.

He sat still for a while longer, remembering her weight on his lap, her lips against his, and how thin and fragile she had felt in his arms. He frowned, grabbing his cloak and walking out of the classroom.

Inside his room, Draco removed his clothing and climbed into bed. He opened the top drawer of his bedside table carefully, reaching inside for a shallow stone basin. Placing it in his lap, he reached for his wand, placing the tip to his temple, concentrating. He took the tip away and added his thoughts to the Pensieve in his lap, he used both hands to swirl the contents of the Pensieve carefully, watching the silvery strands clear to reveal Ginny Weasley's pale, slightly freckled face. He muttered another incantation and a projection appeared against the dark curtains enclosing his bed, carefully, he replaced the Pensieve into the top drawer. Laying his head on the pillows, Draco watched the images of Ginny Weasley until his eyelids drooped and he fell into slumber.

Draco walked down the aisle of the train rapidly; desperately hoping Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't find him. He slid open a carriage door at random and stepped inside, closing the door behind him in one swift motion. Turning around, his face took on a scowl as his eyes fixed on the sole occupant of the car. The girl was asleep apparently, her hair partially sliding onto her face, her head leaning against the windowpane. He studied the freckles along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, her thick eyelashes and her small, pouting mouth. Although he guessed her to be sixteen this year, her face and the mane of red hair surrounding it portrayed the innocence of someone younger.

He tensed slightly as he saw her frown, wondering if she was about to wake up. Vaguely considering bounding out of the carriage before she opened her eyes to discover him staring at her. She merely shifted her shoulder slightly, so that it was not pressed up against the hard surface of the window.

Just as Draco began to relax, he heard her mumble something in her sleep, her voice was soft, so quiet that Draco had to strain to catch her words.

"Stop it Ron, don't tease...," she whispered, her eyebrows pushed together as her frown deepened. "Malfoy...Draco's cute."

He began to watch her, first during mealtimes, brief glances across the Hall toward the Gryffindor table. She'd sit alone, and on occasion with the Trio when her brother noticed her presence. She was quiet, eating her food with a deliberate resignation, before excusing herself and going up to Gryffindor Tower. Soon, he found out her habit of sitting in the library to do her homework. Three to four times a week, more frequently if there were assignments or tests. She'd pick the tables at the back of the library, taking out a piece of cloth and wiping the dust off the surface of the table before settling down to do work. He would wonder why she didn't choose the tables at the front of the library like the other students; those whose surfaces were shiny with wear.

He brought his own work, sitting opposite her without any acknowledgement. The first time, she had looked up slightly dazed, surprised that someone had disturbed her solitude. She frowned; he could see the anger behind her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak. He smirked and ignored her, feigning interest in the open textbook in front of him. When she realized she would not be able to draw a response from him, she got up and left in a huff. He came back the next night, and the night after that, and each night she'd try to provoke him, demanding an explanation for his presence, insisting he leave her alone or she would tell her brother about this. But she never did, instead she'd get up and storm out of the library in a rage. After a while she merely got up and moved further along the table so that they were not facing each other, and after that, she ignored him the same way he ignored her, not bothering to move or frown or even feel irritation at his intrusion.

He began to study her then, abandoning his reading to watch her. Sometimes when she was frustrated she'd bite her lip, taking it under her teeth and pulling it out slowly before repeating the action again. When she was angry her cheeks would flush, a crease would appear between her eyebrows. Occasionally, she'd fall asleep on the hard wooden surface of the table; he'd take off his cloak and drape it across her sleeping form before leaving the library. The next night, she'd be there, his cloak folded neatly in the space he'd occupy.

She would ask him questions once in a while, when the silence became unnerving, and he'd either shrug or give her half decent responses. But for the most part they'd remain silent for hours at a time. During the day he followed her to her classes, making sure she was aware of his presence around her.

She wasn't sure whether she should feel scared in his presence, whether surprise and pleased were emotions she should feel when the most dangerous Slytherin of them all began stalking her. But that was how she felt, surprised yes, but also happy that he would notice her, little Ginny Weasley who was ignored by everyone. Sometimes, she'd place her head in her arms and pretend to be asleep, and she would feel him draping his cloak over her. His hands lingering slightly on her neck, touching her cheek softly. He'd brush the hair away from her face and tuck it gently behind her ear. And then his presence would be gone and she'd remain the way she was for a while longer, recalling his touch on her skin.

One time, she was feeling particularly anxious about a Potions assignment, scribbling across the parchment so fast and applying such pressure that the tip of her quill snapped, making a perfect right angle. She frowned, not in the mood to go up to her dormitory for another. He had been reading, a novel of some sort, and he had absently reached into his bag and passed her an expensive looking quill, never taking his eyes off the pages of the book. She had contemplated whether to thank him or not, whether to accept the quill even. In the end she settled for a whispered 'thank you' before quickly taking the quill from his outstretched hand.

The quill now lay at the bottom of her trunk, carefully wrapped in a worn shirt of hers. Strangely, she had felt compelled to keep it, unlike his cloak, which she always returned to him the next night. He never asked for his quill back though, so she took it that he didn't mind.

After two months of his company at the library, Hermione finally began to notice Malfoy's odd behavior. Ron spoke to her about it but didn't get much out of her apart from many 'I don't know's. And so Ginny had left the library, opting to study in abandoned classrooms instead. At first she wasn't sure if he would follow, but sure enough, he appeared at the doorway, taking his seat at the teacher's desk. As if he were supervising her detention, carefully examining her every move.

"Tell me why," she demanded as he stepped into the room. He glanced at her quickly, before closing the door and sitting on the table in front of her.

"Does it matter?" he replied.

"I want to know," she said, her tone demanding, impatient, she raised her chin defiantly. He smirked, before straightening up and approaching her. He held out his hand, waiting. She looked at it hesitantly for a moment before getting up, slinging her bag over her shoulder and taking his hand. He led her along the hallway and down to the dungeons, to his dormitory. She shivered slightly in the damp chill of his room, standing near his bed, watching as he lighted a fire with his wand. He gestured for her to sit on the bed and she complied, wrapping the covers around herself for warmth. He took out a small stone basin from a drawer and placed it carefully in her lap. Then he went over to the fire and sat in front of it, his back facing the flames, watching her, waiting.

She wondered idly what she was supposed to do with the basin; it was silvery, moving in a ceaseless whirl. She lightly prodded it with her finger and was surprised when the silvery threads began to swirl rapidly. She watched with rapt attention as the substance inside the basin came to life, showing her many a scene with herself and Malfoy in the library, along the corridors and in the empty classrooms.

Ginny was amazed, staring in awe at what these images were meant to convey. She knew she should feel scared, it was obvious Malfoy had developed some sort of obsession over her. Yet she felt only curiosity as she raised her gaze to meet his across the room. He was sitting on the floor cross-legged, his tie undone and hanging loosely around his collar. The light from the fire illuminated his silvery hair, turning it a darker blond than was normal for him.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him.

Before he could respond, the substance in the basin swirled again, this time showing her a scene with herself and Malfoy on a train; The Hogwarts Express. She was asleep, as he observed her quietly. She mumbled something, and Ginny felt herself blush she when finally deciphered what the Ginny Weasley inside the basin had said in her sleep.

"It was just a dream," she said quickly, not sounding very convincing to either occupants of the room.

He didn't reply, instead, stood up and walked over to her, taking the Pensieve from her and replacing it inside the top drawer. He sat down on the bed beside her, silent.

"Are you blackmailing me? Is this a joke that you and your Slytherin gang laugh at?" she asked, wanting but not succeeding in hiding the hurt from her voice.

He traced the contours of her face softly, the tips of his fingers gliding across her lips. His gentleness and silence unnerved her, confused her. She wanted to fall into his arms, but at the same time, the urge to slap him and pour the contents of the Pensieve into the fire loomed in her mind.

She could feel tears threatening to spill over and she turned away from him, staring defiantly at the fire. His hands came under her chin, directing her gaze back towards him, and the tears finally did spill, tracing their way down to her chin. He caught the droplets in his palm, before leaning forward and kissing her closed eyelids. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Unconscious of what she was doing, she bit into his shoulder, feeling the hard muscles of his arms tense. When he encircled his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, she bit down harder, trying to draw a response from him. But he remained still, allowing her to vent her frustration on him.

When she finally released his flesh from her mouth, his expression was tense as he tried to ignore the pain. She kissed him then, gently placing both hands on either side of his face, and pressing her lips against his.

Later, she unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his shoulder; her teeth marks were visible, imprinted in red against his impossibly pale, smooth skin. She traced the almost circular marks with her fingertip, causing him to shiver slightly at her cold touch.

For some reason she didn't feel afraid anymore, she knew that this was not a cruel joke he had devised to hurt her.

"Are you in love with me?" she asked. They were lying on his bed, entwined in each other's arms under the covers. He was drawing patterns on her arm with his fingers; she could feel his warm touch through the thin cotton of her shirt.

"Do you really want to know the answer?" he asked instead.

"Only if you say yes," she replied, hiding her face in his shoulder. He laughed at her embarrassment and hugged her tighter. She thought it was nice hearing him laugh, a genuine cheerful, contented amusement.

"Yes, I rather believe I am," he whispered in her ear, tickling her with his warm breath. She blushed a deep red, earning another chuckle to escape his lips.

"Well stalking a girl is a rather lame way to steal her heart," she retorted, ducking out from the safety of his shoulder.

"Oh?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Shall I try again then?"

He took his wand in his left hand and dimmed the fire, waving it once more, the room filled with a soft, sweet melody. She looked up as she felt something land lightly in her hair; small pink cherry blossoms were falling all around them, twirling from the ceiling. She caught one in her open palm and examined it.

"I suppose it's a start," she said nonchalantly. Though her face was illuminated in a brilliant smile. "I still want to know how you fell in love with me though."

"It's simple really, who could resist that cute snoring of yours," he said with a straight face. She wrinkled her nose at him and bit his finger. He studied his injured finger before putting it into his mouth and sucking gently on it. "You'll be growing fur soon, and floppy ears with a great shaggy tail," he reprimanded her. She stuck her tongue out at him and he pinched her nose affectionately. "Is this your way of marking me? With your teeth?"

"Maybe," she replied with a shrug.

"Do I get to bite you too then?"

"I think you'd much rather kiss me," she teased, mirroring his smirk.

"How well you know me little Weasley," he agreed, before rolling her over on her back and kissing her.

They remained that way for a long time, until the possibility of her brother missing her presence at breakfast prompted them to leave the warmth of his bed, and make their way down to the Great Hall.

As the two entered together, a very rare silence infected the crowd seated in the Hall as they all turned their heads to stare at the pair in astonishment. A click could be heard as Colin Creevey snapped their photo before dropping his camera and staring at them in stunned silence, along with his fellow housemates. Draco and Ginny turned to grin at each other, and the rest, as they say, is history.