Rating:
R
House:
Astronomy Tower
Genres:
Romance General
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 05/29/2003
Updated: 08/01/2003
Words: 11,949
Chapters: 3
Hits: 1,541

Sweet Chimera

Realisation

Story Summary:
In Diagon Alley, Harry purchases a ring for Hermione, and things begin to go awry. Harry/Hermione and soon Draco/Ginny.

Chapter 03

Chapter Summary:
Chapter 03: Ginny is cunning and implements her vengeful plan! Draco is a prat but he is also intrigued! Exclamation points, yelling, and oceans of uncontrollable teenage emotions run rampant in this chapter.
Posted:
08/01/2003
Hits:
282
Author's Note:
This chapter is not good (and by "not good" I mean "painful to read") because it is nearly entirely filler. I know it looks like character development, but that is a disgusting ruse concocted by myself. There is no character development. There is no plot. I am terrible at plot, as you may have surmised by now. I am decent with all of the snogging and relationships and such, but I really do need to work on The "P" Word. ...In which "P" stands for "Plot." Of course. In the future there will be, of course, many tortured and convoluted relationships; prepare yourself for them lest you be swept away in the violent and raging tsunami of teen angst. Does anyone actually read these author notes?
It was close to impossible, Ginny had realised, to find Malfoy alone. She needed to ambush him, and she couldn't very well do that when his bloody fan club was hanging about. If it wasn't his two bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle (how had they managed to pass six-and-a-half years of school?), loyally flanking him in a regal display of stupidity, then it was Pansy, clinging amourously to his side and discussing trite matters in simpering tones.

He did not seem attracted to Pansy, she was pleased to note. He seemed to only tolerate her politely, always on the edge of rudeness. Yes, Pansy, and No, Pansy, and Is that so, Pansy? His responses were always curt, brusque, disinterested and detached. Pansy - of course - seemed to take no notice of the fact that Draco Malfoy was no more interested in her than Ron was interested in Divination.

Her first step had been to create an outline of everything she knew about him. She was very proud of herself, because it was a rather Hermione-esque thing to do. Yes, it was a lovely outline, although it hadn't helped much.

I. VAIN AS BLOODY HELL

A. Thinks self better than Harry (complete codswallop, really) because:
1. Father is sodding bastard (Sodding Bastard-itis must run in family); tried to kill me.
2. Has close ties with He Who Must Not Be Named (i.e., You Know Who, The Dark Lord, & also Tom [surprisingly, another sodding bastard who tried to kill me]).
3. Has ridiculously stupid friends? Crabbe and Goyle's idiocy is famed throughout the school. Perhaps they make him feel smarter, through their immeasurable stupidity.
4. Has loads of money (unfair!).

B. Thinks money is most important thing in world (slight codswallop, money only semi-important) because:
1. He has it.
2. He was raised to think so (poor sod does not understand that family ties are stronger).

C. Thinks self to be completely dashing in black (not so much codswallop) because:
1. He kind of is (still sodding bastard, however).

II. GOOD IN SCHOOL, I THINK

A. Snape's favourite student (unfair!) because:
1. Is in (nasty, horrible, stinky, etc.) Slytherin.
2. Perhaps is actually talented (doubtful).

B. Gets excellent marks in Potions (most likely through cheating).

C. Competes with Hermione for best marks in Arithmancy but rarely wins; gets hacked off at losses (have heard her whinge about it enough).

III. SPENDS SPARE TIME THINKING UP WAYS TO INSULT MY FAMILY

After much deliberation, she had crossed off the last category, along with several others (IV. KEEPS BAD COMPANY, V. HAS HORRID TASTE IN GIRLS, and VI. HAS HIDEOUS SOCKS, NOT THAT I HAVE LOOKED, which she decided did not even meet the requirements for a proper category).

So - Malfoy did well in Potions and he thought himself to be handsome. Parvati had insisted once that he was "rather dishy," but Lavender had shot her a nasty glare and said it must be his striking personality that made her think that.

"Honestly," Lavender had said, "he's in Slytherin," as if that explained it.

"Well, yes," Parvati had conceded grudgingly. "There is that."

Ginny didn't understand their reasoning. Just because the Slytherin girls tended to be very large and intimidating and the boys usually had mottled skin that made it look as if they were constantly recovering from the pox, and bad teeth, and Snape was their Head of House, and . . .

Well, but that didn't mean all Slytherins were unattractive simply by association. Malfoy was not bad-looking, really, it was just that his personality was caustic, and he was spoiled and haughty and mean-spirited, and . . . well, hum.

It had taken her several weeks to perfect her plan. When it came down to it, The Plan (as she had creatively dubbed it) was not so complicated and, by all rights, should not have taken three weeks to come up with. It was quite an obvious solution, in fact. Well, it wasn't her fault that she wasn't bloody Hermione. She grit her teeth at that thought, her jaw clenching automatically.

Yes, this business of stalking Malfoy was harder than she had thought it would be. Perhaps it was easier to make a living as a stalker when you were actually fond of the person. After all, it had been quite easy for her to memorise Harry's schedule and write him Valentines and poetry and send him sweets.

That made her think of sending a Valentine to Malfoy, and she thought she might vomit.

She was so preoccupied with trying not to be ill, in fact, that she nearly missed her chance.

"Malfoy!" she yelled, trying to catch up to him. It looked like he was in a hurry, and it took him a moment to turn around. Bastard, she thought automatically. Sodding horrible disgusting sickening gross bastard. Then she shook her head to clear it and tried not to notice the fact that he was looking at her as if she were dirt. Bastard, she thought reflexively again.

"What?" he said in a way that sounded both forcibly polite and utterly disgusted. She wondered for a moment how it was possible to achieve that tone of voice, but decided it must be an Undisclosed Malfoy Secret. She made a mental note to remember that and make a list at some point in the future.

“I need you to tutor me,” she said, and his expression changed several times before he answered. It looked as if he was deciding how he should word his response - was he to be spiteful, biting out a snide remark before leaving her standing in the hallway alone, stunned? Or did he want to not answer at all, simply turning to leave with a derisive smirk and a shake of his head? Then, it seemed for a moment that he was merely going to laugh in her face. His actual reply surprised her.

“Don't fuck with me, Weasley,” he said, still managing to sound polite, “I don't have time for this.” With that, he turned to go.

She considered reaching out to grab at his sleeve, but decided he would just sneer at her as if she were trash and snatch his arm away from her, and would then probably proceed to tell everyone in the entire school that she had tried to throw herself at him.

Which was not, actually, very far from the truth. Igh, she thought. She was feeling more ill by the minute.

“Stop,” she demanded.

“Ask Granger to tutor you,” he said, and stopped again, but did not turn back to face her.

Ginny’s mind raced until she came up with a reasonable excuse. “Hermione’s too busy, and we're really not all that good of friends, so I don't feel that I can ask her for a favour on the basis of camaraderie. You have a better score in Potions than she does anyway, don't you? And you could tutor me, instead of going on about Harry all the time.” She tried to change her tone from one that said I Am Very Excited and Hopeful to one more suitable - My Life is Pain, perhaps.

She was really not good at this acting thing.

He was considering it; she could tell by the small fraction that he had turned, that much closer to facing her.

“Please,” she added, praying that he would look into that single word deeper than was necessary and find a more concrete meaning. She also hoped against hope that he would take her up because of it instead of simply being disgusted.

“You know, I'm not quite sure I trust you,” he said, pivoting fully on his heel, his eyes hard and his arms folded across his chest.

“I'm not asking you to trust me,” Ginny said bluntly, lifting her chin and pushing her bottom lip out a bit in a small pout of defiance. “I'm asking you to tutor me in Potions.”

Malfoy’s gaze moved briefly to the suits of armour down the hall. He was thinking, but Ginny had no idea what about. He wasn't easy to read like Ron or Harry, and he wasn't predictable like Hermione. But what he said in the end did not surprise her as his last reply had:

“All right, Weasley,” he said, almost managing to make it sound like he was making a business agreement rather than a snide comment. “What’s in it for me?”

Ginny lifted her chin higher, set her teeth, and took a deep breath. “Whatever you want.”

His left eyebrow rose slowly. "Then I'll be in touch," Malfoy said, that infamous derisive smirk drifting lazily over his lips before he continued on his way and left her standing alone.

He did get in touch with her - the next morning. Ginny could have hit herself for being surprised at the owl she received.

Weasley,

Meet me in the PD during break hour.

D

PD undoubtedly stood for Potions Dungeon. It couldn't very well stand for Police Department, or any other number of Muggle facilities. His letter was so brief - and he abbreviated everything but her name. Weasley, she read again, peering closely at the parchment. He could have at least called her Virginia.

She would have to bring that up as a serious topic of discussion.

She did so first thing - before she lost her courage.

"Virginia," she said bluntly, setting her Potions supplies down on the table.

"Sorry," he said, closing his book and removing his feet from the same table, "I'm Draco."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, I realise that."

"Well," he said, as if the topic were now closed. "Potions, then, is it?"

She was quickly tiring of this. "Virginia," she said again, the heel of her left shoe grinding into the flagstones under her feet much like her top set of molars were grinding into the ones below them. He had begun to reach for her ragged Potions textbook, but his hand halted as he tilted his head to blink inquisitively at her. Agh, she thought. Feigned ignorance. Bastard. "Virginia is my name," she said finally, utterly exasperated.

"Fascinating," he said, obviously less than fascinated as he pulled the textbook towards him and experimentally opened the cover, the long-since rotted glue causing it to fall away from the binding. He looked dubiously at it while he pulled a chair out for her. "You should take better care of your things, Weasley."

She remained standing, choosing not to sit in the proffered chair (if only to spite him). "It was like that when I got it," she ground out, her teeth set hard together. "And my name," she added, "is Virginia."

"Well, you're in possession of the most horribly cared-for book I have ever seen," he informed her. "Virginia," he added, his voice cold.

She stared at him. "Well, I am poor, if you hadn't noticed."

His gaze darkened as he watched her take her seat. "How did you find my name for tutoring?"

"I asked Professor Snape," she said. "I mean - it was the obvious solution. He gave me a list of available tutors, and I picked from that list." She was becoming nervous now, fidgeting a bit. She hadn't thought he would ask her that.

"And you picked me," he said slowly. "You had to pick me out of all the other possible candidates?"

"Well, ah - " she began, toying with the hem of her skirt under the table.

"This isn't some sort of refined torture device manufactured by Potter, is it?"

"Well, ah - " she said again.

"Because if it is - "

"Do you ever let people answer your questions?" Ginny snapped. "Honestly." Malfoy closed his mouth, and she took that as her signal to continue. "Yes, I did have to pick you. Do you think I would have any other way?" He watched her, his face blank. "And no, it isn't torture - and if Harry or my brother knew I was here they would probably kill me."

He blinked in an entirely apathetic way. "That's - interesting," he said, in complete disregard for the lack of interest written plainly on his face.

"If it's any consolation, I'd rather they kill you. I'm finding myself less and less fond of you by the minute."

Malfoy smirked at her in what looked almost like appreciation. "I may assure you that I am being quite honest when I say that the feeling is mutual."

"So," she said, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"So," he said pleasantly, "I've been looking at your cauldron."

Ginny automatically went through a mental list of all the body parts to which "cauldron" could possibly be referring before Malfoy continued, "And it's terribly dirty. Did you get it second-hand as well?"

"Er, no," she said. "I - my brother Percy can get them from the Ministry."

"You should take better care of your things," he said again. "You'll never be able to properly mix any potion if your cauldron's still caked with the residue from past assignments."

She blinked at him and briefly chewed the inside of her lower lip. "Well, Snape never discussed that in class," she said indignantly. "If it's that important, he should have covered it."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes threateningly. "Professor Snape," he said, stressing the teacher's title, "did cover it in class. The first day, in fact."

Ginny swallowed nervously, unused to seeing Malfoy looking dangerous up-close. "I was sick the first day," she said, glancing away.

He seemed a bit taken aback. "Pomfrey couldn't heal you?"

She resisted the urge to yell, None of your damn business! She was appalled that a smile was pulling at her lips, and tried to stop it. "I..." she paused and rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand. "I wouldn't take anything she gave me. I kept insisting that I wanted my mum. It was only nerves, I wasn't really sick or anything."

Malfoy made a little noise in the back of his throat that sounded kind of like "oh," and continued on with his diatribe about cleaning cauldrons. Ginny eventually grew bored with this lecture, and when he moved to the sinks to demonstrate how to Properly Rid One's Cauldron of Potion Residue, she reached into her pocket and removed a Chewy Chocolate (another of the twins' ingenious inventions, it was a small sweet but it would last for hours).

He turned at the crackling sound the wrapping made and stared at her incredulously. "What are you doing?"

She glanced down at the wrapper, nonplussed, as she bit down on the sweet. "Chocolate," she said, as if it wasn't obvious. "I - I mean, I'm eating chocolate."

Malfoy had thrown his robes over a chair and unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt, rolling the fabric up to his elbows. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his forearm and leaned against the sink. "You shouldn't eat when you're working with potions. The components can get on your hands and be transferred to the food - "

"I'm not working with potions, though," she said. "You are."

He scowled at her. "You do it, then. Come here."

Ginny sighed and stood up, depositing her chocolate wrapper in the trash bin. She modified her wardrobe as Malfoy had, tossing her robes over a chair and rolling her sleeves up. She had washed dishes at home when her mum wasn't well, and this would be no different. She snatched the sponge from Malfoy and turned her cauldron on its side.

"You have to be gentle," he warned her, "because if you aren't cautions enough, and you push two conflicting things together too forcefully then it causes - "

She was too annoyed to listen to him, attacking the cauldron with the rough sponge.

" - FIRE - " he finished, snatching the cauldron away from her when the components flared up and fire jumped from the cauldron to her sleeve. The cauldron lay smoking and burning in the sink, and Ginny was trying to beat the flame off her clothes with the sponge. "It won't burn you - would you just let me - " Draco said frantically, snatching at her arm. She danced away from him.

"Pluvius!" he yelled finally, getting fed up, and a torrent of water flooded over Ginny. She turned to stare, surprised. "I tried to tell you," he said, annoyance sharpening his voice. "It won't burn you; it's just the very dregs of all the potions you've mixed - it'll just give you quite a scare."

Ginny glared at him, now soaking wet and humiliated. She turned sharply on her heel to walk away and managed to slip on the layer of water over the flagstones, falling down and painfully jarring herself.

"It will, however, burn cloth," he said, gesturing toward the ruined fabric of her school button-up shirt.

She stared at the remains of her sleeve. "I can't pay for a new shirt. A reparo spell won't fix this."

"Wear your summer shirt," he said, crouching down in front of her.

Ginny just shook her head. "I won't be able to afford a new school shirt before winter. My mum is going to kill me," she said quietly.

Exsorbeo," he murmured, pointing his wand at her for the second time, and Ginny had the distinct feeling she was momentarily inside one of the Muggle vacuum cleaners that her father loved to collect. When she recovered she realised her clothes were dry. "Ask Potter if you can borrow some money; he's got some stashed away, hasn't he?"

She gawked at him for a moment before standing up. "I am not asking Harry Potter for pity money. That is the most - " she broke off furiously. "I cannot believe you," she said, snatching her robe from the chair and pulling it around her shoulders as she gathered her books and fumed her way to the door.

"Your cauldron - " he said, holding it up.

"I'll get it tomorrow when I come for Potions, Malfoy. This was quite possibly the worst idea I have ever had."

Draco stared at the closed door, perplexed, and set Ginny's cauldron down in the sink.

She was certainly intriguing, he would give her that.