Love, and Other Things That Hurt

Chapter Four

Draco woke up on Sunday morning with a start. He knew he had been dreaming but could not remember what about, and his momentary disorientation confused him. He opened one eye and, realizing where he was, opened the other one as well.

There was a strange noise coming from somewhere in the room, and as Draco rolled over, he found that the other side of the bed was empty. He rubbed his eyes with his fists and rolled over.

Ginny was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing his shirt, her hair falling down her back in long tousled tresses. What really startled Draco was that she was crying; sharp heaving sobs and sniffling, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Reluctantly, he sat up and regarded her warily. "Weasley."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "Did I wake you up? Sorry. Go back to sleep, it's still early."

Draco heaved an impatient sigh, running his hand through his messy blond hair and watching her in obvious irritation. "If you're waiting for me to beg, I refuse," he said flatly. "Either tell me, or -"

But Ginny had just burst into a fresh downpour of tears, and Draco broke off, bemused. He was about to speak again when Ginny said in a weak, shaky voice, "It's my dad."

Draco felt his stomach clench. "What about him?" he demanded.

Ginny sniffled, taking a deep shuddering breath before bursting into fresh silent tears and throwing herself forward onto Draco's chest.

"Spit it out!" Draco ordered, running his fingers through her hair.

"Today's his birthday!" Ginny wailed.

"Uh huh..." Draco said slowly. "And?"

Ginny turned her head to look up at him, her eyes red and puffy and her face shining with tears. "And I forgot!"

This took a second for Draco to run through in his head. "You forgot your dad's birthday," he repeated.

Ginny nodded.

"And...that's why you're bawling your face off."

Ginny looked shocked that he didn't understand. "Draco, I forgot!" she said, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch as he reached up to wipe tears off her face in bewilderment. "I'm his only daughter and he isn't even going to know that today, on his birthday as well as on every other day of the year, I love him, because I forgot. I'm such a selfish bitch that -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Draco said, holding up his hands in a peacemaking gesture. "Don't you think that you're overreacting a tiny bit?"

"No," Ginny said in fierce decisiveness, leaping off the bed and scowling at him. "Now I am going to go send him a letter and attempt to rid myself of the title 'worst daughter ever.'"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Draco asked dryly as she stomped purposefully to the door.

She stopped. "Like what?"

He held up a finger from which he bra was dangling by its strap. "Like maybe your clothes?"

Ginny stalked back and seized it. Clearly she had left the hysterics behind in favor of cool tenacity and Draco watched her in bemusement as she began to gather her other articles of clothing.

"Feeling more upbeat?" he asked in sardonic amusement.

"Shut up," Ginny snapped, seizing her t-shirt from under the bed. "I know you possess the emotional range of a teaspoon, but it doesn't mean we all exist the same way."

Draco ignored this, sitting up higher on the pillows as Ginny tossed her clothes on the bed and pulled off Draco's shirt. "Stop watching me," she said irritably, launching the shirt at him.

"I'd like to see you tear your eyes away from this," Draco said seriously, catching the shirt and pushing it aside, running his eyes appreciatively over the length of her unclothed body. "Are you really going to break my heart by covering it up?"

"What heart?" Ginny muttered. When he didn't respond, she glanced at him and seemed to catch the gleam in his eyes. "Don't even think -" she began, but before she had finished, he had reached up and seized her around her bare waist, pulling her to the bed.

"Draco," Ginny complained as he pinned her to the mattress with his body and kissed her shoulder. "This isn't funny. I'm upset, and -"

"You know, Red," Draco said as though the thought had just occurred to him, cupping her face with his hands and looking at her with mock-solemnity. "You're kind of an all-around drama queen."

"Ugh, get off me, you arse," Ginny said, pushing at his shoulders as he began nibbling at her throat. "I'm not interested in this right now."

"Bite your tongue!" Draco said, pretending to look disbelievingly insulted. Ginny raised her eyebrows before reaching up to kiss him.

"Ow!" Draco cursed under his breath, pulling his head back sharply. "Fuck, Weasley, that hurt."

"You asked for it," Ginny reminded him with a smirk.

"Bite your tongue, you crazy broad, not mine," Draco muttered, glaring and rolling off of her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby," Ginny said, putting on an exaggerated pout and leaning over to plant a loud kiss on his cheek. "But I do remember you saying you like it rough."

There was a moment's pause while Draco considered. "Well," he said finally. "When you put it that way..."

He pounced. Ginny squealed as she was thrown backwards again and gasped sharply as his teeth bit into her collarbone. "Draco, stop!" she attempted to say, but her voice was diminished as his mouth clamped onto hers. After a few more moments of feeble struggling, she succumbed to him, and they spent the next ten minutes making out ferociously on top of Ginny's clothes.

"Where were you going again?" Draco asked innocently in her ear as they finally broke apart for air, panting.

"Um," Ginny said blankly, blood roaring in her ears distractingly. "Um. I was...It was...I was...hmm."

Draco resumed snogging her and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, reciprocating enthusiastically. After another few minutes, she pulled away.

"I'll see you later," she told him pointedly, pecking him one last time before rolling out from under him.

Draco groaned in disappointment. "You're gonna leave me like this?"

"All hot and bothered?" Ginny teased with a grin, yanking out her bra from underneath him and sliding it on. "Yeah, I think I will, actually.

"Evil woman," Draco muttered darkly, watching her moodily as she pulled her clothes on. "What are you doing today anyway? Crying some more, I'm sure? That seems to be a new trend for you."

"Well," she said, ignoring him pointedly. "I need to send a long sappy letter of love and appreciation to my poor neglected father. Then -"

She broke off, and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I have business to attend to," she finished matter-of-factly.

"Really," Draco said in tones of benign interest. "And what business would that be?"

"It's a girl thing," Ginny said, already heading for the door.

Draco braced himself as she turned to look at him when she reached the threshold, but she merely blew him a kiss. "Later," she said, and slipped out of the room, closing the door with a click behind her.

Draco took his time getting dressed, inhaling deeply as he pulled on his t-shirt to which the flowery scent of her still clung. As he made to leave the room, he found himself glancing back at the bed. The memory of last night's 'meeting' between them was fresh in Draco's head, and he found his trousers getting tighter even as he ran over the events in his mind. Maybe fighting wasn't the most enjoyable way to spend two days, but the resultant make-up sex had definitely been a good way to ease all kinds of tension, not all of them emotional.

It was already nine o'clock, which mean that breakfast was well underway. He was hovering in the Entrance Hall, debating whether or not to make an appearance at the meal or just retreat back to the common room, when he heard his name.

"Oi! Malfoy!"

He turned to see Blaise strutting towards him, his brows furrowed. Wondering briefly if he could find a way to avoid his confrontation, and seeing no way around it, Draco merely plastered a vaguely curious expression on his face as Blaise approached.

"What's up?" Draco asked in a voice that was coolly indifferent.

"Same question for you," Blaise said, frowning. "Where the hell have you been?"

Draco shrugged, a safe response in his opinion. Blaise looked like he wanted to say more, but they were interrupted as Pansy sidled up to them, breaking away from her gang of Slytherin girls.

"Hi, Draco," she said in the simper that made Draco's hair stand on end.

"Pansy," he said shortly, nodding at her. Blaise gave him a look that was clearly congratulatory - ugh - before grinning and striding away again. Reluctantly, Draco turned back to Pansy who was smiling dimly at him.

"Can I help you?" he said with a kind of polite impatience.

"I just wanted to wish you luck today," Pansy said in breathless earnest. "Not that you need it...everyone knows that you're far better than Ravenclaw."

It took a second for this to register.

"What?" Draco said blankly.

Pansy gave him a strange look. "Your Quidditch game today?"

"Oh." Shit. He had forgotten about that. "Yes. Right. Quidditch. Game. Today. Right. Yes, well." And he wandered away, leaving Pansy looking confused and offended.

"So?" Blaise prompted as Draco dropped into the seat across from him at the Slytherin table. "How'd it go?"

"What?" Draco said sharply. "What are you talking about?"

"With Parkinson," Blaise said, widening his eyes suggestively. "Did you make a move?"

"Why the fuck would I be making a move on Parkinson?" Draco demanded in angry bewilderment.

Blaise looked equally flummoxed. "Is that not where you've been at night lately?" he asked in confusion. "With her?"

Draco stared at him. "And why," he said finally, "would you think that?"

Blaise looked slightly uncomfortable, a disconcerting change in his usually jaunty demeanor. "Well," he said, glancing discreetly around as he stalled, clearly hoping someone would intervene. "Me and the other guys, we've been...er, speculating."

"Well, your speculations are inaccurate," Draco said, annoyed. "There is nothing, and let me reiterate, nothing going between Parkinson and I."

"Really?" Nott piped up as he slid in beside Draco, seizing every dish within reach. "Who've you been shagging, then?"

Draco could not quite believe this was happening. "What the hell's wrong with you two?" he snapped. "What makes you think I'm shagging anyone?"

"Mate, we don't think, we know," Blaise said in a misty and ominous voice, very like Professor Trelawney. "Men just know these things."

"Then you must be a woman," Draco said coolly. "Because you are sodding delusional."

"C'mon, Malfoy," Nott said imploringly. "We won't laugh, even if it's Bulstrode."

"Nah, it's gotta be Mandy Morgan," Blaise declared, brandishing his fork at Nott for effect. "The blonde in fifth year. She's hot."

"He doesn't like blondes," Nott said, shaking his head. "Maybe it's that Australian exchange student, Alyssa something-or-other..."

"I am blond, dumbass," Draco said irritably. "Now, if you two dimwits would listen, you would hear me loud and clear that I am not -"

"Whoa!" Nott said suddenly, sitting up straighter and staring at the door. "Check that out, Zabini."

"Daaaaamn," Blaise said, drawing out the single syllable with a drawl and whistling under his breath. "She gets more smokin' every day."

Draco turned his head to follow their gaze, and immediately felt as though he had been doused in icy cold water.

Blaise and Nott were hungrily following the progress of Ginny and her two friends to the Gryffindor table.

When, about two minutes later, Draco regained the ability of speech, he turned back to Blaise and Nott, both of whom were arguing about what was more important; large breasts or long legs.
"Are you two referring to the Gryffindor?" he asked, his voice somewhat hoarse.

His two friends glanced at each other and then sheepishly back at him.

"Well, yeah," Blaise said with a shrug. "But hot is hot, right?"

"And that hair," Nott said with an appreciative groan as Draco watched Ginny sit down between her friends on the bench, grinning and talking animatedly, waving her hands around and obviously recounting a very entertaining story. "Man. I wonder if she's got an equally sexy cousin who has less 'nerve and chivalry' and more 'cunning and -"

"Am I missing something?" Draco interrupted, more than a little perplexed by all this. "Who the hell are you talking about?"

"The American!" Blaise said as though Draco was being obtuse.

"Harmony Barlow," added Nott, lifting his eyebrows suggestively. "She's hot shit, mate."

"Harlow?" Draco said, so loudly that Longbottom, who was passing, stared until Draco shot him a venomous look, causing him to squeak involuntarily and hurry away.

"You're on nickname terms with her?" Nott said in bewilderment, goggling at him.

"No," Draco said, cursing himself mentally. "No. I thought you were talking about...about Weasley."

"Weasley?" Blaise echoed, snorting. "Yeah, right. Good one, Drac."

"She's hot," Nott pointed out reasonably. "Seriously hot. But the fact that she's a fucking blood traitor doesn't count in her favor, right? The brunette, though..." He grinned at Draco. "Pure as you and me, so I've heard."

Draco didn't answer. It seemed to be requiring all his energy to keep his hands clenched around the edge of the table and not around Nott's pharynx.

"So what you're saying," he said evenly after regaining control of his temperament, "is that even though she's a Gryffindor, she's hot and pure-blooded, meaning she's fair game to date?"

Blaise scoffed. "You don't date her, man," he said airily, waving his hand in disgust. "Just...play with her a bit." He gave Nott a wolfish grin, which he reciprocated.
Draco shifted his eyes from Ginny to Harlow and began unconsciously comparing the two. There was really no need, however. Sure, Harlow was aesthetically pleasing enough, with her choppy dark hair, wide hazel eyes and bronzed skin, but how it could even be a competition between the two was a mystery to Draco. Ginny's creamy skin, long scarlet tresses and almond-shaped cinnamon eyes, not to mention a body that just begged to have hands run over it, rendered her light years ahead of any other girl at Hogwarts.

"Ready for Quidditch?" Blaise asked ten minutes later, clapping Draco on the back. "Better head to the pitch, captain. We'll see you afterwards."

Draco chanced a glance at Ginny as he passed the Gryffindor table and was surprised, more than little surprised, to see her looking at him - and even more so when he saw that she was openly smiling. He was so taken aback hat he couldn't do more than grimace, and, feeling slightly stupid, went to gather his Nimbus 2001 from the broom shed before making his way to the Slytherin dressing room off the Quidditch pitch where his team was already assembled.

"So what's the plan, captain?" Lionel Nelson, a third year Chaser whom Draco had picked for his enthusiasm rather than his aim, asked eagerly. "Just go out there and give 'er?"

"Well, I was thinking we should probably strategize a bit more than that," Draco said evenly, fighting to keep a straight face. "Your confidence is endearing, Nelson, but unfortunately we need some semblance of technique in order to salvage what's left of the Quidditch season."

"Why?" Lionel said, wrinkling his nose. "What's wrong with our season?"

"You mean besides the fact that Gryffindor is pounding our arse into the ground?" said fellow Chaser Emmett Flint dryly.

"Fucking Gryffindors," Justin Dobler, the sixth year Keeper said darkly, and Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly. Ignoring the titters that followed, Draco ran through a potential game plan in the five minutes that followed until Madam Hooch's whistle sounded from inside the stadium.

When they walked onto the pitch, the familiar adrenaline rush hit, accompanied by a thousand roaring voices. As Draco shook hands with the Ravenclaw captain and slung a leg over his broom, he felt his stomach soar as he looked up at the white clouds drifting lazily across the azure blue eternity above him. He knew perfectly well that most of the school felt that his place on the Slytherin Quidditch team was bought for him by his father when he was twelve years old, but Draco also knew that it took more than Galleons to acquire the reflexes, skill and passion he had long had for the game. As he looked around the stadium, three quarters of which were wearing blue and cat-calling loudly at his team, Draco felt a stab of amusement. It was nice that some things would never change.

As this thought crossed his mind, Draco immediately spotted Ginny in the Gryffindor stands. She was watching him again, and as soon as he caught her eye she smirked at him, nodding towards the 'Go Ravenclaw!' banner that Dennis Creevy and Kevin Whitby were holding two rows below her, and then at the blue scarf around her neck. Draco grinned before turning to face Madam Hooch in anticipation of the kickoff. Smartass.

The game was fast, furious and just what Draco needed. He took out all his frustrations and worries of the past week on the sky, flying as though his life depended on it, his eyes trained for any sign of a glint of gold, and treating every Bludger hit his way just as he had Ginny's proclamation that she loved him - evasively and with careful and determined skill. Pushing aside all his distractions, Draco caught the Snitch in just over ten minutes, right from under the nose of Adrian Murphy, the Ravenclaw Seeker.

The crowd erupted into shouts of what was mainly distaste, but Draco did not care. As he landed with his teammates, all of whom were slapping hands with each other (with the exception of Lionel, who was positively jumping up and down with excitement), he glanced up at the Gryffindor stands. The jolt in his stomach of disappointment annoyed him when he could not find her vivid hair amidst the crowd.

"Come on, Malfoy!" Flint called as the Ravenclaw team trailed dejectedly off the pitch. "Party in the dungeons."

"Right," Draco responded vaguely, shouldering his broom and not able to resist glancing once more at the diminishing crowd. Nothing.

As he returned back to the common room twenty minutes later with the team, Draco was determined to enjoy the win (which put Slytherin in second place behind Gryffindor for the House Cup), a determination made easier by the storm of food and noise that was waiting inside the green-lit dungeon room.

"Well done, Draco!" Blaise yelled, hitting him hard on the back when they met in a crowd of people. "That's what we call kicking some fucking ass. Want some food?"

"Yeah," Draco said, already grabbing an éclair from a tray. When he glanced back at Blaise, he saw the dark boy watching him through narrowed eyes.

"What the hell is your problem?" Draco said, taken aback and irritated.

"Mate, no matter what you say," Blaise said with a shrug. "There's something - or someone - on your mind."

Draco felt the pastry go to lead in his throat. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Blaise glanced around at the chattering people milling around, making sure that nobody was listening. "You're acting weird, man. Even you have to see that. And only you know why, but -"

"I don't see how I'm acting any different than normal," Draco snapped, stung. Acting weird? He had spent the past ten months acting as naturally as possible, and there had been no suspicions then. Now, suddenly he was being accused of acting 'weird' by Nott and Zabini, two of the most self-centered people on the planet. It was completely unjust.

"Yeah, I don't get it either," Blaise said with a careless grin. "OK, Malfoy, I'll drop it for now. But you will let me meet her, right?"

And, before Draco could growl in response Blaise had clapped him on the shoulder and strode away to the crowd.

Fuming, Draco crammed the rest of the éclair in his mouth and seized the nearest person, who happened to be a tiny second year boy, who was eying Draco with unadulterated terror on his face.

"Tell me," Draco said between gritted teeth. "Have I been acting lately in any way that is unusual or uncharacteristic of me?"

The younger boy, wide-eyed and positively quaking with fear seemed to be at a loss. "Um," he squeaked, looking around wildly. "Um. No?"

"Thank you," Draco said, releasing him and speaking calmly as though he had just received an update on the weather. "That will be all."

And Draco sauntered away, leaving several people looking after him in confusion and alarm.

The party wrapped up at around noon, after which the common room emptied as people headed outside to enjoy the early May sunshine. Draco, still feeling resentful that he was apparently so emotionally transparent, gathered his books and made his way toward the library. Not the most thrilling way to spend a Saturday, but his other, ahem, extra-curricular activity apparently had other plans.

When Draco walked into the library and, to his annoyance, saw that every table was occupied. What was more, the only free spot was at a table where one person sat alone...and it was Creevey.

Draco couldn't see any way around it. Of course, he had his reputation to protect, and being seen in public with a sixth year Gryffindor Mudblood was sure to tarnish his image. On the other hand, venturing out to the grounds where Zabini and Nott had gone would mean more interrogation, speculation, and, quite possibly - Draco shuddered at the thought - a drawn conclusion. Draco could not possibly see how they would come up with Ginny Weasley as the person Draco had been involved with recently, but stranger things had happened, he supposed. Going back to the common room was an option, but holing up in a dungeon alone would just give him license to stew more the incident on Thursday which, despite his inward denial, he was still perturbed by. After a quick internal battle in which his pride lost, Draco heaved a sigh and stalked over to Creevey's table, wrenching out the chair and dropping into it, slamming his books on the table. At least his attentive' friends couldn't accuse him of shagging this particular Gryffindor. That was, unless they wanted to be castrated by a severing jinx.

As expected, Creevey immediately dropped his quill and gaped open-mouthed at the newcomer as though the Dark Lord himself had just sat down across from him.

"What are you looking at?" Draco growled moodily, flipping open his Potions book and scowling at the other boy.

"N-n-nothing," Creevey stammered.

"Excellent," Draco said shortly, ripping off a piece of parchment from his notebook. "Then shut your mouth and get a grip."

Creevey glanced around as though looking for an explanation. When noting seemed to come to him, he turned slowly back to Draco, hesitating before saying, "um...w-why are you sitting with me?"

"Does it look like I had a lot of choice, Creevey?" Draco snapped. "Trust me, if I wanted to chat, I would have gone elsewhere. So shut up."

Creevey fell silent. For a good five minutes, Draco, scribbling furious at his essay, ignored Creevey while the later put his head in his hands, sighing theatrically every thirty seconds.

And then, displaying a certain bravery that Draco would not have expected from him, Creevey spoke again.

"What is it about girls?" he burst out unexpectedly, throwing his hands in the air.

Draco looked up after a few moments with a glare, sure he had misheard. Creevey apparently didn't require any acknowledgement, however. "I mean," he said, his cheeks pink and his eyes overbright. "They're just so confusing. They say one thing and mean another, and you like them for so long, and then...and then..."

He broke off and, to Draco's horror, looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Christ almighty, Creevey," Draco hissed furiously, glancing around fearfully. "You cannot possibly be cr -"

"I'm not!" Creevey said, sniffling and rubbing his nose. "I'm just...I just don't know what to do, and -"

"And what the fuck do I look like to you?" Draco demanded sharply, snapping his book shut and debating whether or not he could bolt and make a run for it before the tears started falling. "A romance advice column in Witch Weekly?"

"I j-just thought," Colin blubbered, turning his shining eyes beseechingly upon Draco. "Well, you just...girls like you."

"Your point being?" Draco said lazily, not bothering to denying it. Hell, it was true.

"Well...why?"

"Why?" Draco repeated, not quite believing that he was here having this conversation right now. "Because I'm faultlessly attractive, possess intelligence and wit superior to a majority of the male population, and ooze sex appeal."

"Oh," Creevey said miserably, wiping his face on his sleeve. "How did you get all that?"

"I'm told it's courtesy of genetics," Draco said sarcastically. "But I like to think I'm just blessed and gifted."

"I just wonder..." Creevey said, leaving a dramatic pause before finishing, "...if maybe if I had more...more of all that, she would...would like me."

"She?" Draco asked flatly.

"Yeah," Creevey said with a sigh. "Ginny Weasley."

It took a few seconds for this to click in Draco's brain, and when it did he immediately remembered who he was talking to. Colin Creevey...Dennis' brother. The guy who was into Ginny. Draco stared at him for a long moment.

"Weasley, hey?" he said casually, opening his book again and moving his lips as little as possible in order to avoid attracting the attention of two of his seventh-year dorm-mates who had just wandered in. "Isn't she a little out of your league?"

To Draco's slight surprise, Creevey fired up at this. "Is it because I'm a Muggle-born and she's a Pure Blood?" he demanded furiously. "Because she doesn't care about that. She's not like...like..."

"Like me?" Draco supplied idly. Oh, for Merlin's sake, this drama was wearisome.

"Yeah!" said Creevey fiercely. "She's not like you. She doesn't care that I'm not...not pure because she knows that there's more important stuff than that."

"I see," Draco said, and for some reason he found himself growing highly amused with this conversation through his exasperation and disgust. "And that's how she fell for your charms, is it? She looked past the matter of blood and fell deeply in love with your personality, did she?"

Creevey was speechless. Draco silently gave himself a point on an invisible scoreboard.

"That's not...not..." Creevey sputtered, and Draco had to work hard to suppress a smirk. "Look, I'm working on it. I just...feel like I've been trying for a long time and she hasn't been -"

"Responding?" Draco said in a bored voice. "Shocking. How could she resist your eloquent speech and manly demeanor? The tears really help boost your masculinity."

"I just want to be me," Creevey said, sounding tearful. "I don't care if it's not manly enough in your opinion, Malfoy, but I want her to love the real me, exactly how I am."

"How touching," Draco said sardonically. "And how is that working for you?"

Creevey gazed desperately at him for another second before heaving a shaky sigh and laying his head on his hands. "It's hopeless," he said in a low kind of gasp. "I just need to know how you do it."

"Well, the answer to that is simple," Draco said nonchalantly. "I don't pick girls who are ridiculously out of my reach - or, you know, I wouldn't if there was any such thing. Then, I make sure she knows who's in control of the situation. She's not calling the shots, I am, and whatever is going to happen, it's going to happen on my terms. Got me?"

Creevey nodded avidly, his eyes wide, clearly hanging onto Draco's every word.

"And then," Draco said authoritatively, "you have to be a man, Creevey. No crying over your feelings for her. No pining for her when she's obviously uninterested. She stays infatuated with you until you're done with her, right? You wear the pants. No woman should dictate your emotions. You are in control."

"What about love?" Creevey asked quietly, and Draco felt his stomach clench hard.

"Love," he spat, slamming his book open again. "You want love, Creevey, buy a damn kitten. They're cute and cuddly and far lower maintenance than women. All love will get you is pain, agony, and inconvenience. Is that what you want? To lose control of your feelings and emotions and mind and to be constantly consumed in something you had no say in?"

"Um," Creevey said, looking slightly puzzled. "Well, yeah, I kind of do. It's love, right? It's a nice kind of consumption. It's something everyone's supposed to feel, isn't it? So I don't mind."

He gave Draco a valiant smile that, for some reason, made Draco want to reach over and snap his neck.

"Well, in that case," Draco said harshly, pulling his books together in a pile and gathering them up, standing and running a hand ferociously through his hair. "This is the end of our conversation. I'm sure you'll be very successful in your pursuit to covet what you are unworthy of. Good day."

And before Creevey could respond, Draco had already stridden away, fuming.

Was it a Gryffindor thing, or did everyone have this deluded concept that love was a positive emotion? How was it that something that was so parasitic and vexing had gained a good reputation? Legions of love stories and sappy romance songs had evoked a desire in billions of people to find their own fairy tale, and Draco had no idea how it stood that love was something that should be sought after.

The dormitory was empty when he stopped down there to drop his books off, but he was too restless to stay there for more than a few minutes. He ambled outside into the blinding sunshine where half the school was assembled across the sprawling lawn playing chess or doing homework. Draco was reluctantly considering locating Blaise and occupying his mind with trivial gossip that the other was sure to provide. However, just as this thought crossed his mind, he suddenly ran headlong into someone.

"Whoops! Sorry," Longbottom said brightly, jumping up from where he had fallen on the ground in his haste to get inside the castle. "Wasn't watching. Um...see you later!"

He scurried off. Draco stared after him. Why the hell was everyone talking to him today? What happened to his ability to make people like Creevey and Longbottom quake with fear by mere eye contact? It was insulting, really, this familiarity they seemed to be acquiring with him. Ugh. Disgusting.

He turned around and the next thing he ran into invoked a very different feeling in him.

"Hey," Ginny said with a grin, grabbing his arm and pulling him off to the side so they were hidden from view by the side of castle. "Nice catch, captain."

"Thanks," Draco said musingly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Does that mean you saw the whole thing?"

"Of course I did," Ginny said easily. "I had to be the first one out because of my, um, plans. But I saw the catch, it was spectacular."

"Kind of you to say so," Draco said seriously, "seeing as that win means that it's you and I battling it out for the Cup."

"Oh, Draco," Ginny said, smiling sweetly. "It's so cute that you think that it's any kind of competition."

She squealed as he grabbed her around the waist and pressed her to the stone wall, nuzzling into her neck. "Keep talking like that, woman," he said in a mock-warning voice. "I don't mind doling out the consequences."

Ginny gave a contented sigh and wrapped her arms around his waist. "We're good together, hey?" she said, and he pressed his face into her hair so she wouldn't look up to see the look that passed over him.

"Speaking of," he said, avoiding giving an answer altogether. "Are we going to be 'good together' tonight? I'm going to need to start planning ahead for each rendezvous."

Ginny frowned, looking up at him. "Why?"

"The men are onto me," Draco muttered, running a hand through his own hair. "I guess I thought subtlety wasn't necessary when surrounded by egotists."

Ginny turned white, making her freckles stand out against her skin like chicken pox. "They didn't figure it out, did they?" she asked faintly.

Draco snorted. "Not unless they've learned Legilimency recently. And since Nott failed his DADA exam, it doesn't seem likely."

Ginny didn't seem convinced, and it irritated Draco that she thought he wasn't being honest about a possible breach in their security arrangement. "Get a grip, will you?" he said impatiently. "Nobody's going to find out."

She nodded, biting her lip, and he knew better than to think she would stop worrying. In vain, he attempted a distraction technique. "Did you write to your father?" he asked teasingly. "In the process of redemption for your unforgivable sin, are you?"

"Yes, I did," Ginny said, completely unabashedly. "Though it turns out that Charlie and Ron forgot as well, so I'm off the hook."

"Well, that's a relief," Draco said solemnly with a determinedly straight face that held until Ginny herself burst out laughing.

"OK, OK, it was silly," she said with a sigh. "I can't help it. I've just been...weird lately."

"I'll say," Draco said, but he kept his tone light. "How did your 'business' go, by the way?"

"Oh, successfully enough," Ginny said vaguely, but didn't seem keen on spilling details. After a moment's reflection, Draco figured that he probably didn't want to know anyway.

"I've got some time right now," she said abruptly, glancing at her watch and eyeing him roguishly. "What do you think I should, ahem, do with it?"

"Oh, I've got a few ideas," Draco said casually, sliding his hands in his pockets. "They're up for discussion."

"Me and Harlow did have a very interesting conversation at breakfast," Ginny said musingly, tracing a finger down Draco's chest, watching him with her head tilted to the side. "Apparently there are certain pleasuring methods that Americans have dreamed up in the last few years. Some...foreign techniques, if you will. It's all very fascinating and I may just have to -" She stood on her tiptoes and trailed kisses down his jaw. "- educate you."

"I've always been one for knowledge," Draco said, wrapping his hands around the small of her back and pulling her to him so they were touching. "Learn something new every day, I've always said."

"What are you, a Ravenclaw?" Ginny quipped, and Draco was so taken aback that he laughed, a real laugh, a sound that wasn't scathing or contemptuous.

"I like that sound," Ginny said thoughtfully. "Do you know what I love most about you, besides your physical appearance?"

"My sparkling personality?" Draco inquired wryly.

"No, you don't sparkle in the least," Ginny said with a grin. "It would have to be that laugh."

This threw Draco off. "You don't hear it that regularly," he pointed out in an undertone.

"Yeah," Ginny said. "That's what makes me love it even more."

"Ugh, stop getting all sentimental on me," he said with a groan. "Can we just go have sex now?"

Ginny pushed him playfully, and he caught her up in his arms, pulling her against his chest.

"Hey, you know what's weird?" Ginny said suddenly, breaking away from him and looking up at him with a gleam in her eye. "I just passed by Colin a few minutes ago, and when I said hi, he just stared me down and then stomped away haughtily. What do you think that's about?"

And despite himself, Draco grinned.

"No kidding," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the people spread across the sprawling lawn. "Maybe there's hope for the kid after all."