The First Time

The first time Draco really saw Ginny Weasley, she was pointing her wand at his face. The wand itself didn't bother Draco all that much; after five years of not so friendly interaction with Potter and Co., he was rather used to having them pointed at him. No, the wand itself wasn't what made him pause, though he thought that it really was a nice one. Maple, ten and a half inches, and Draco would bet his own wand that the core contained a single unicorn hair. Very nice wand, especially good for Charms work, as he found out when she hurled the Bat Bogey hex at him, but not anything really noteworthy.

What caught Draco's attention were her eyes. Bright brown, they flashed with fire, and Draco had a moment to think dazedly, she's really enjoying this before his face exploded in bats, and the chaos started.

During the confusion, Potter's entire little club got away, but Draco found that he hardly cared. He cared more about the bats still covering him. He stumbled around the castle until Professor Flitwick, who despite his annoyance at the rule breaker who had cursed Draco couldn't help but laugh, finally found him.

And when it was all over, Draco couldn't help but think of Ginny Weasley, whose bight eyes and grinning face told of someone much more interesting than he'd thought her to be. He thought of her all summer, and now that he'd finally seen her, truly seen her, he began to remember other times when she'd been there, times when he hadn't paid her any mind because she was simply part of the scenery. Times like second year, when taunting her had been a way to get at Potter, and getting at Potter was always the first priority.

Until now. Now, Draco was surprised to find that whenever the red headed girl was in the presence of the Golden Trio, it was the Trio itself that faded to the background, and Ginny Weasley who stood out clear. He found that he was looking for ways to irritate her, rather than her friends. He would go out of his way to cross her path and insult her or that mudblood she was always walking to classes with, holding his hand. The sight of those two together never failed to raise Draco's hackles, and his most vicious insults were used when he saw those two together.

Draco was by no means a stupid boy--he was second in his year, matter of fact--and he knew what all of this meant. Which didn't mean that he didn't try as hard as he could to deny it. There was just no way he could be attracted to a Weasley, bunch of blood-traitors that they were. Especially not the Weaslette, who had always been so enamored of Potter.

Except she wasn't anymore, that was the thing. She treated Potter like another brother now, freaking out on him just as she did the Weasel, and she never blushed when the boy hero talked to her. Now she seemed perfectly content with that other boy, whose surname Draco had learned was Thomas. Draco had to grit his teeth every time he saw the boy, which was quite often as he was usually found where his girlfriend was.

Draco stayed in denial for all of three days, until he happened upon Ginny and Thomas kissing while walking through the halls and trying to clear his head. He'd stopped dead in his tracks, unable to stop staring at the sight before him even though it was hurting him to watch. They were quite wrapped up in each other, his hands on her hips, hers on the back of his neck. Their eyes were closed, and as Draco watched Thomas moved his hands to her backside; he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Seeing this, Draco let out a soft gasp, and Ginny's eyes flickered open. She pulled her mouth from Thomas' and glanced over his shoulder, spotting Draco.

Her eyes widened slightly, her legs unwound from Thomas' waist and she stood there, her mouth fell open in a round 'O' of surprise and color rose to her cheeks as she took in the expression on his face. Draco wanted to run, to get away from the realization spreading across her face, but he couldn't move, couldn't tear his eyes from hers for the world. He understood that finally, she was seeing him too, and even though he knew that nothing good could ever come out of what she was seeing, he couldn't make himself leave.

"Ginny?" Thomas' voice sounded so far away, "Ginny, what is it?" Ginny didn't answer, and frustrated, the boy began to turn around to see for himself what his girlfriend was gaping at. Seeing this, Draco's paralysis broke, and he fled.

~****~

Ginny Weasley was beyond confused. One minute she was having a heated snog with her boyfriend, and the next experiencing the most intense moment of her young life with none other than Draco Malfoy.

She hadn't been able to believe what she'd seen in his eyes and on his face at first...that odd mixture of pain and longing. It had been even harder to believe that it was directed at her. But Malfoy's eyes had held hers, and she had finally admitted that it was true, though she had no clue why or how. It had hardly mattered at the moment anyway, as looking into his very gray eyes; she had felt her whole body flush with a reaction that it had never given Dean. Then, said Dean was talking to her, and turning around, and Malfoy was running away, and all that was left of the feeling was a memory.

Dean watched Malfoy leave, and then turned back to Ginny with a grin on his face. "Didn't know Malfoy was such a voyeur," he said, and Ginny made a face.

"Gee, thanks a lot for that image," she replied, and Dean laughed. Ginny forced a small smile, but her mind was elsewhere. It was on the way that Malfoy had looked at her, and the way that look had made her feel. The flush had been familiar, Ginny knew that, but she couldn't place it for the life of her.

The mood ruined, she and Dean made their way back to the Gryffindor dormitories, Dean taking Ginny's hand and swinging it gently between them. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, and Ginny shook her head distractedly. She wasn't sure what she'd felt staring into Draco's eyes, but she was sure that she didn't want Dean to know.

When they entered the common room, Ron asked instantly, "Where were you?" Ginny rolled her eyes.

"None of your business, Ronald," she retorted. "Do I ask where you are every second of the day?"

Ron glared. "No," he answered, "but then I'm not out with someone who might get the idea to take advantage of me, either." He glared at Dean, and beside him, Harry laughed.

"Now, Ron, that's not true. I wouldn't mind taking advantage of you," he said, laughing at Ron's expression and surreptitiously winking at Ginny, who finally remembered the time she'd felt the way she had earlier, with Draco looking at her.

It had been the same way she used to feel when she'd been around Harry, when she'd loved him with all of her little heart. Of course the crush had gone away, and she'd thought that the way her whole body had flushed when he was around, the way that she had shivers running from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, was just something that happened when you had your first crush, and would never come again. It hadn't with Michael Corner, or even Dean...but it had when Malfoy looked at her. What did that mean?

Someone was calling her. "Earth to Ginny, come in Ginny," the voice called, and she recognized it as Harry's. She snapped out of her thoughts to smile at him, and he smiled back. "We lost you for a second there," he said.

Ginny shook her head, and resolved to put her strange reaction to Malfoy aside for the time being. "Woolgathering," she explained, then noted the cards spread around the two boys. "Oh, Snap. My favorite," she exclaimed, and sat down by Harry. "Count me in."

~***~

Days went by, days in which Ginny successfully avoided thinking about Malfoy, which was made easier by the fact she never saw him. Of course, that only made it easier for a little while, until Ginny realized simultaneously that he was avoiding her, and that he'd been virtually stalking her for ages. On the heels of that was the thought that she missed him, and all notions of ignoring him abruptly went down the drain.

Which is why Ginny found herself actually seeking the Slytherin out one bright Saturday afternoon. She had decided that it was about time the two of them had a little chat about a certain encounter in the halls, and talk they would. Now was the perfect time actually, as she and Dean had called it quits the day before, having decided that although the snogging was fun and they liked each other well enough, it would be better for all involved if they just went back to being friends. Since then, Ron had been giving her hints that Harry was still quite available, and it had been on the tip of Ginny's tongue that she already had her eye on a certain ferret, thank you very much. She hadn't said anything, but it had been quite close.

She found Malfoy sitting by the lake, watching the squid swim around and looking thoughtful. Without hesitation she sat down next to him and said, "I used to be afraid of the squid, you know."

Malfoy jumped a little, then turned to look at her. "Really," he drawled, sounding bored, but his eyes were bright.

Ginny nodded. "Oh, yes. It was so enormous, and Fred and George told me that sometimes at night, students would go out for a walk by the lake and never come back. They were eaten by the squid, you see." She laughed. "Stupid story, really, but that didn't stop me from believing every word of it." She tilted her head and regarded Malfoy for a moment before saying, "We need to talk."

Malfoy gave a small sigh, and nodded. "I thought so," he answered, and then said no more as he resumed staring at the squid.

Ginny stared as well, but not at the squid. She stared at Malfoy, at his pale, pointed face with all its sharp angles, and thought to herself that the only truly beautiful thing about him was his eyes. Then Malfoy looked up and caught her staring and smiled, a real smile, and Ginny caught her breath as she decided that perhaps Malfoy really was beautiful, after all.

~***~

They talked for quite a while, those two, starting with what had happened in the hall and getting around to the rest, along with many other things that had nothing to do with anything truly important. They talked until dinnertime, when they rushed into the hall, faces flushed and happy, and made their way to their respective tables where they would only answer questions fired at them with secret little smiles. But if one was observant, and patient, they would see two gazes meet across the hall, and at the Slytherin table one would smile brightly, while at the Gryffindor table the other would blush hotly and stick their elbow in the butter dish.

Old habits die hard, after all.