Saint-Seducing Gold

Chapter Two: In a Glance

"Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?"

-----

Ginny Weasley was furious as she paced up and down her dormitory floor. How did Malfoy get off thinking he could take advantage of her like that? Why did he always treat everyone as if they meant nothing to him? Was everything simply a game to him? All he seemed to care about was his own precious self, and Merlin help the wizard who raised a finger against him. Why, no one in the entire school dared to except the Gryffindors! Why was that? Couldn't everyone else see what a jumped-up little git he was? And how on Earth had the insufferable brat become Head Boy? She'd obviously missed that memo.

"What's wrong, Ginny?" asked Catherine, looking up from her position of languor on the floor. Catherine, one of Ginny's four roommates, was a sweet, pretty thing with a lilting accent and blue eyes just a bit too large for her face. Ginny had always been grateful for the shorter girl's empathy, but tonight she found that she just could not talk about what had happened in the library. It was too personal, she thought with a frown. Malfoy sparked feelings in her that frightened her to say aloud. After all, she wasn't normally the type of girl who expressed her wishes to choke someone with a necktie until they were blue in the face. And that was the least violent punishment she could think of good enough for the obnoxious Slytherin.

She flopped down onto her bed with a sigh. "Nothing's wrong, Cat. I'm just thinking about some guy."

Right away, she realized it had been the wrong thing to say.

"Oh..." Catherine nodded knowledgeably and peered at her painted fingernails. "I know how that goes."

"Sure you do, Cat," Aubrey, another of Ginny's roommates, said from her chair by the door. Quite the collector of boys herself, Aubrey looked supremely amused by her friend's statement. She was just finishing her own manicure with Catherine's Muggle nail polish as she said, "You haven't had a boyfriend since Matt dumped you back in fourth year."

Catherine narrowed her eyes. "Well, you never know. That might've changed."

Aubrey knew an invitation when she heard it. She leaned forward and capped the nail polish. "Who's the guy?" she asked eagerly. "Come on, Cat. You can tell me!"

Ginny ignored her friends and closed her eyes, but the imprint of Malfoy's smirking face still hovered before her, his gaze teasing and insincere. That's what usually pissed her off so much about Draco Malfoy. He didn't look like he'd ever given a rat's ass about anything except perhaps beating Harry at Quidditch. And why should he? He had his family's reputation to cover almost anything he could ever do wrong and a fortune the size of France to pay for the rest of it. So what if his father was a Deatheater? He never had to worry about his parents not being able to afford his clothes; he never had to worry about not having people around him unwilling to do whatever he wanted; he never had to worry about anything. It just wasn't fair that someone like him - a snotty, selfish, and deceitful spoiled brat - had everything in the world while she had six overprotective brothers and second-hand textbooks and a crush on a boy who'd probably never looked at her twice because he was her friend...

"Oh, this is just ridiculous!" she breathed, sitting up. A slight girl with pale green eyes that blinked too much behind her smudged glasses jumped back from where she'd been bent over the bed, about to tap Ginny on the shoulder.

"Sorry, Ella," Ginny apologized. Ella gave her a rare smile and stepped aside so Ginny could stand up.

"What's so ridiculous?" she asked quietly, watching Ginny tug her school robes back on over her clothes.

"Nothing. I was just thinking, is all."

"About a guy," Aubrey put in, snapping her bubblegum loudly. She gave Catherine a meaningful look, but the other girl merely shook her head and looked to Ginny. Ella tilted her head in mystification.

Ginny arched an eyebrow at all three of her friends and decided to change the subject. "Where's Miranda?" she asked, referring to their remaining roommate, a vivacious redhead who could've passed for Ginny's sister if it wasn't for her unmistakable Irish accent. "It's almost dinnertime and she still hasn't given me back my Charms essay."

Aubrey groaned at being furthered denied the details of Ginny's pensiveness, but waved a hand to show she didn't know. Catherine shook her head and stared at the floor absently. Ella shrugged and walked to her own bed and the teetering pile of books waiting for her on her nightstand. Ginny felt a quick surge of relief that they didn't press the subject, and then a wave of anxiety about Miranda.

"Well, how long has she been gone? I promised Professor Flitwick I'd turn that essay in today!" Ginny straightened the sleeves of her robes and rummaged in her trunk for something to tie her hair back. Ella handed her a ribbon, and Ginny gave her friend a grateful smile.

"Oh, not long," Aubrey answered, blowing on her nails to dry them. Frustrated with her efforts, she muttered a quick spell instead and the nails were instantly dry, shiny, and about half an inch longer than usual. "She said she had to go meet someone somewhere."

"Probably a new boyfriend," Catherine snickered, finally getting up from the floor and dusting off her skirt. "You know Miranda."

"Do I," Ginny muttered, thinking of all the boys Miranda had run through in the past six years of school. She'd left the Slytherins alone, but no one else was safe from her seduction. Ginny stopped herself from rolling her eyes, and instead took up her hairbrush, properly combing out her red locks. At least the boy she had a crush on was going to be properly impressed tonight when she finally asked him out. It wasn't Harry whom she'd waited for too long and then become his friend instead (in the end proving to make her a much happier person), but one Colin Creevy. Ginny had decided that Colin was perfect for her. Not only was he her own age, but she also found him strangely attractive with his boyish blonde curls and bright eyes, not to mention that he was fascinating to talk to and had taught her far more about the Muggle world than she'd ever thought she might know. She'd spent most of the summer trying to determine whether she could like him as more than a friend, but when she saw him on the train she knew that she could and did. And now she'd screwed up the nerve to tell him so and nothing was going to stop her.

"So if Miranda's off snogging some new guy," she said, turning around, "You three will just have to tell me how I look."

Aubrey whistled her approval and Ella offered her an encouraging look. Catherine simply smiled and pushed the door open, gesturing for Ginny to go ahead of her. The redhead grinned at her friend's praise, pushed the troubled thoughts of Malfoy out of her head, and focused on Colin Creevy. "Well, come on then. Let's go down to dinner."

-----

Draco left the library in a huff. Parvati hadn't been there and Madam Pince had soon overcome her Malfoy-induced trance when she discovered he wasn't going to sit down and read something. He'd swiftly found himself standing in the hallway with Professor Snape's latest book request in his hands and orders to deliver it to the Potions master right away. He was Head Boy after all, wasn't he? He didn't seem to have anything better to do, did he? He and Snape were very good friends, weren't they?

Draco scoffed impatiently and spun on his heel to stride down the hallway, letting his black cloak billow imperiously out behind him. A small trick he'd picked up from his father, it kept most people from even thinking to bother him. He smiled in satisfaction as a group of second years saw him coming and scurried off to the side of the hallway to let him pass.

"Draco! Hey, Draco!" A gangly Slytherin boy with flyaway blonde hair and strikingly dark eyes darted out of one of the classrooms Draco had just passed. He skipped up to Draco's side and began to walk with him.

"What do you want, Grahm?" Draco sighed, slowing down a bit so that his younger cousin could keep up.

Grahm, ever the faithful friend, shot him a cockeyed grin. "I was just talking to Pansy. You wouldn't believe the stories she's making up about you..."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "What? That I'm snogging the Weasel's sister?"

Grahm looked disappointed. He took childish delight in meddling in his cousin's relationships and hated when someone knew something before he did. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

Draco proceeded to relieve his cousin of his disappointment by recounting what had happened in the library with Pansy and Ginny, carefully leaving out the little wrestling match that had ensued with the Gryffindor. When he'd finished his tale, Grahm let out an appreciative guffaw and leaned against Draco's shoulder, tears of mirth in his eyes.

"Hey, that's a good one, Draco! We should tell Blaise; he'll get a kick out of it. Snogging a Gryffindor... Yeah, right!" Draco nodded distractedly, thinking about Parvati again and worrying that it might not go over quite as well as he thought it might've. "Hey, what's wrong with you, man? You're so serious today." Grahm playfully punched Draco's arm and gave his cousin a curious look. Draco cursed Grahm's strange habit of picking up Muggle habits and wondered yet again why he tolerated it - besides the fact that alienating Grahm meant alienating half the Slytherins who'd come to expect the schemes he and his cousin cooked up together...

Draco sighed again and shook his head. "It's nothing, Grahm. I've just been thinking about things."

"Oh?" Grahm taunted mercilessly, another habit Draco wasn't quite sure why he endured. "Like what?"

"A girl," said a new voice, much deeper than Grahm's developing tenor. Blaise Zabini, a dark-haired seventh-year, joined them in their stroll. "He's thinking about that damn girl again. Who is she, Malfoy?"

Draco sneered at Blaise's careful use of subtlety and ignored his friend's demand. "Why don't you two go on to the Great Hall," he suggested. "I'll meet you there in a minute. I've just got to pass this on to Professor Snape." He indicated the book in his hands and gave them both meaningful looks.

Blaise knew a dismissal when he heard it and sighed in resignation, nodding. "Sure. We'll see you down there then."

"No, wait!" Grahm cried before the boys could go their separate ways. "Come on, Blaise. Let's go with him."

Blaise and Draco both gave the fourteen year-old suspicious looks. "Why?" they asked at the same time.

Grahm grinned fiendishly, seeing that he'd caught their attention. "No reason. I just think that there's something down in the dungeons that you might want to see. And I think you could both use some more of my charming company." The two older boys listened to this deliberately vague explanation and exchanged comprehending glances.

"All right, Grahm," Blaise said. "What have you done now?"

"What?" Grahm replied innocently. "You guys know I would never put a toe out of line."

"Right," Draco agreed, lifting his eyebrows. "Come on, Grahm. Which teacher's wrath should we be avoiding now?"

"Not a teacher's!" Grahm laughed, obviously full of himself. "Let's just head down to the dungeons and you'll see what I mean."

Draco and Blaise followed the younger boy's joyful form, halfway amused by his childlike eagerness and halfway anticipating the prank that Grahm had obviously pulled on some fellow student. Draco smirked, knowing that whatever it was his cousin had arranged undoubtedly had to do with the Gryffindors.

The three friends were just about at the hallway that led to Snape's classroom when an enraged Ron Weasley flew up the stairs with his usual posse in tow. Potter and Granger looked almost as mad as their friend, and all three skittered to a halt in front of Draco, Blaise, and Grahm.

"You little bastard!" Weasley shouted, starting immediately for Grahm with his wand drawn. Mad though they might have been, his friends kept their senses and Potter grabbed the back of Weasley's robes as Granger fought to make him put his wand away. Draco sniggered, seeing what Grahm had done. Weasley's robes were the emerald green and shining silver of Slytherin House, obviously enchanted by the way they shimmered to draw attention to themselves. And the unfortunate victim of Grahm's crime was carrying what looked to be his remaining sets of robes in his arms; all dyed the same brilliant green and silver.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day," Draco laughed, flashing Grahm an approving smile. "The Weasel dressed as a Slytherin harlot." Grahm grinned back at his cousin and folded his arms, beaming in satisfaction and admiring his handiwork.

"Finally realize who rules the school, eh, Weasel?" Blaise added with a smirk. "I knew even you couldn't be so dense as to ignore it forever."

"Shut up, you two," Potter said furiously, holding Weasley back. The fuming redhead was in a blind rage, his face crimson with anger and humiliation, but at least he had stopped trying to get his wand back from Granger. He grated his teeth together audibly and couldn't speak. Beside Draco, Grahm quaked with silent laughter.

"Shut up, you two," Blaise mimicked Harry in mincing tones. He pulled his wand out with a flourish and gave it a nonchalant twirl between his fingers. "Why don't you justify your words, Potter, old boy? Make me."

Draco's eyes flashed to Granger. Her Head Girl pin looked newly polished against the black of her robes. She returned Draco's stare imperviously and deigned not to speak. He knew what she was thinking though. No true Head Boy would ever let his friend stand there and make threats with magic. Amused, he tossed her a disarming grin and drew his own wand. "Come on then, Potter," he goaded without hesitation. "Don't be a wet blanket. We'll give Blaise here his dream of seeing you lose."

"Malfoy!" Granger castigated him, her dark eyes glinting in disapproval.

"Hey, Granger, an enemy's an enemy. Becoming Head Boy doesn't change anything. Why don't you join in the fun, eh?" Draco leered and wasn't surprised when Granger stepped backwards with a distinctly McGonagall-like sniff.

"As if I would stoop so low," she said haughtily. "Come on, Harry. Let's get Ron out of here before he does something we all regret." Potter stood still for a second longer, staring hatefully at the Slytherins, and then turned to follow his bushy-haired friend. Weasley stared even longer than Potter had, until finally he spat on the ground in front of them and hurried off after Potter.

Grahm dissolved into helpless giggles as the Gryffindors fled while Draco and Blaise put up their wands and congratulated each other on another Slytherin triumph. "Did you like it?" Grahm gasped through his laughter. "I created the transfiguration myself. It'll take hours for even McGonagall to figure it out!" He cackled and rubbed his palms together like some madman out of a fairy tale. Draco shook his head and smiled at his too-clever cousin. He'd won them the majority of their bouts of battling with the Gryffindors these past few years, and Draco wasn't above acknowledging that.

"What's the party for?"

The three cohorts spun around to find Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle standing behind them. Crabbe glanced at Goyle with a doubtful shrug. "Sorry. Is it a private party?"

Draco let out a sigh of exasperation and motioned for the two apish boys to join them. "You two should really give more warning to your presence, you know," he told them. They nodded dutifully in response. "Anyway, ask Grahm about it. He'll tell you what's been going on. I've got to go see Professor Snape as it is, and will probably be late to dinner. Blaise!"

Blaise glanced up from the animated conversation he'd just been having with Grahm about their next confrontation with the Gryffindors. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Don't wait up. I'll see you all in the Great Hall." Blaise nodded, and, that being said, Draco strode away.

-----

"Hi, Ginny. How were classes today?"

"I'm just glad it's Friday, Harry. Ron, what on Earth happened to your robes?"

Dinner was, as always, a noisy affair at the Gryffindor table. Everyone was in high spirits as befitted the end of the week and a raucous clatter of conversation filled the air (accompanied by the occasional hurled dinner roll). Ginny seated herself across from the seventh years and glanced at her reflection in her silver goblet before looking to her brother for a response. Ron muttered something incoherent and shot a smoldering glare at the Slytherin table. Ginny followed his gaze to find most of the table's occupants pointing and laughing at Ron in his Slytherin get-up.

Harry's mouth twisted into a frown. "Slytherin's genius child decided to bestow some of his precious attention on Ron's wardrobe." The raven-haired boy shook his head wearily. "I wish this war of ours would stop. I can beat them on the Quidditch pitch any day, but when it comes to this type of battle... Pritchard just outdoes us every time." Ron agreed with a woeful nod, plucking at his robes.

"Hermione refuses to put her brains to use in a venture like this, otherwise we'd be winning," the redhead grumbled, giving the cerebrally-blessed girl beside him a dark look. Hermione smiled back sweetly.

Ginny bit her lip and glanced over at the Slytherin table again. The students had calmed down for the most part, and gone back to eating, but there was a definite undercurrent of smugness about all of them. She scanned them through narrowed eyes, but came to a sudden halt when she caught sight of Draco's silver-blonde hair. He looked up with casual grace and their eye abruptly met and held. Ginny found herself wondering just what those icy grey pools might hold within their depths and leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better look. Draco blinked, then turned aside, breaking the spell. Ginny started, then blushed furiously for even looking at the poncy git in the first place. What was wrong with her?

"Hey, Gin." Colin Creevy slid into the seat next to Ginny and picked up a fork. "What's on the menu tonight?"

"Um," Ginny replied eloquently, flustered by her crush's sudden appearance.

"Oh, lasagna! Good. I'm famished." He shoveled a huge serving onto his plate and dug in, rapidly making the food disappear. Ginny watched him eat, momentarily at a loss for words as she wondered at the ability of teenage boys to eat so much and remain so skinny. Then she realized she was staring and remembered what she meant to do tonight.

"Say, Colin..." she began tentatively.

"Mmf." Colin wiped his mouth on his napkin and looked up from his half-empty plate. "Yeah? What's up?"

"I..." She wished she'd planned this out a little better. Shoving her own plate aside, she leaned her elbows on the table and tugged anxiously on her sleeve. "I wanted to tell you something."

Colin gave her an impulsive grin causing her to momentarily lose it as she marveled at the way his whole face lit up. "Anything," he smiled. "Fire away."

She tried to return the smile. "It's just that I was thinking a lot this summer. About you. And me..." She let this suggestion hang, but Colin only looked at her blankly. "Well, I was thinking about all the great times we've had together and everything and I guess I was wondering... I mean... Would you like to go out with me sometime?"

Colin appeared astonished. "Oh, Ginny..." he said, his surprise quickly fading into pity. "I thought maybe Catherine had already told you." He sighed, and squeezed her hand in sympathy. 'Sorry, Gin. I like you a lot and all, but Cat and I have been dating since the beginning of the summer." He shrugged apologetically. "Our families go to the same beach for vacation and we just... Well, you know..." Seeing her mortified look, he added (unhelpfully), "I love you like a sister though. We can still be friends."

Feeling unaccountably humiliated, Ginny got up from the table. "Oh, it's alright," she mumbled. "I didn't really expect..." Colin was looking at her helplessly and she found she couldn't finish her words. "I have to go. Homework." And she darted off.

Colin turned back to his food, confused and a bit ashamed by his fumbling of that whole situation. Catherine spotted him from down the table a ways and rushed over to fill Ginny's empty seat. Seeing his look, she immediately asked him what was wrong.

"Nothing," he sighed.

Harry shook his head, having witnessed the entire incident. "Ginny asked him out," he explained quietly. Catherine gasped and stared off in the direction that her roommate had run as Colin bit his lip.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," he told Harry glumly. "Do you think I hurt her?" Harry looked unusually troubled, but didn't reply.

-----

Ginny was in the hallway right outside the Great Hall when she stopped running. She slouched against the wall and dug the heels of her palms into her eyes to keep herself from crying. She should've known better; she shouldn't have expected anything to come out of this; she shouldn't have..! But she had. She had expected something to come out of it, even if her parents technically still wouldn't let her date, and it just didn't seem fair that her friend had gotten to Colin first. It didn't seem fair. Why couldn't something nice ever happen to her?

Removing her hands and slowly opening her eyes, she was about to emit a woeful sigh, but she quickly stifled herself when she recognized the person coming out of the Great Hall. It was Draco Malfoy, and, for some inane reason, he was in a passion of conversation with Parvati Patil. Ginny couldn't quite hear the words but he seemed to be taking himself very seriously from his fervent hand gestures and earnest facial expression. Parvati listened with a small frown. They stopped next to the staircase and Draco smiled, obviously waiting for the answer to some posed question. Suddenly Parvati shook her head and laughed, drawing the wand from her robes. She said something that made him start up angrily, but Parvati waved her wand in warning and he subsided with a grimace. Then she spun on her heel and left, still chuckling softly. Ginny was off and sprinting down the hallway before Draco could spot her and take out whatever anger he had now on her. She wasn't too sure what she had just witnessed and she wasn't sticking around to find out.

By the time she'd reached Gryffindor Tower, Ginny had forgotten all about Draco again and was wallowing in self-pity. She paced the Common Room, trying to figure out what to do with herself and wondering where she should go before everyone else got back from dinner because there was no way in hell that she was going to stick around and listen to their sympathy.

And then she spotted a shimmering something draped across one of the armchairs by the fireplace. She sidled over and picked up Harry's Invisibility Cloak with a small gasp. He must have been terribly distracted to leave it lying out in the open because Harry usually took very good care of his cloak.

Clutching the silken piece of fabric to her chest, Ginny quite suddenly got an idea. She didn't want to just sit around here and wait to be scooped up by an overeager friend who was convinced she needed cheering up. Where, though, could she go to escape that, for tonight at the very least? She'd overheard her brothers talking about an underground student's bar in Hogsmeade once upon a time... Perhaps getting drunk and forgetting this evening's pain wouldn't be a horrible alternative. After all, her brothers hadn't gone there just to party. She could still remember George's arm slung around Fred's shoulder as they stumbled up the stairs last year the morning after Angelina had dumped Fred for Lee Jordan. Yes, perhaps she should go and find out just what alcohol could do for a person. And screw the consequences. She couldn't be her mother's little girl forever.

Firm in her resolution, Ginny swung Harry's cloak over her shoulders and pulled up the hood, hurrying off to search for the statue she knew would lead her to Hogsmeade.