Beat It

This is what bit me at three in the morning after a day of listening to nothing but Michael Jackson. It's a little silly, but I enjoyed it. I hope you do, too.

~

Beat It

The stairs of Grimmauld Place creaked as Ginny tried to descend them as quietly as possible. She swore under her breath and made a more or less silent dash for the kitchen. She closed the door behind her with a soft click instead of the hair-raising shriek that used to accompany the action. Relieved at having reached her destination, she sighed and moved forward, then stopped.

Ginny blinked once, twice. On the third blink, she decided that no, her sleep deprived brain wasn't seeing things and that Draco Malfoy really was standing by the stove, making what appeared to be pancakes. Draco Malfoy was cooking, at four in the morning, no less.

"Malfoy?" Ginny asked incredulously.

He ignored her and Ginny took a tentative step forward. The motion seemed to alert him to her presence and he looked up, startled. He reached up and removed what appeared to be a pair of very small black earmuffs from his head.

"Weasley," he said with some surprise. "Why are you awake?"

The confusion Ginny was experiencing had begun to give her a headache, although that could have been the sleep deprivation.

"I could ask you the same, Malfoy," she said, more mumbled, really, and wrapped her bathrobe tighter around her body. Her pajamas were hardly what one would call flattering. Malfoy, on the other hand, was still wearing the jeans and Falmouth Falcons shirt he had been wearing earlier that day. The rebuilding effort had them all in their most well-worn, well-used clothing.

Malfoy had been taken in by the Order the summer after his sixth year and the tragedy of Dumbledore's death. Since then, he had become a valuable member of the Order (which Ron would still only admit under duress) and had been a crucial element in defeating Voldemort. Now, two years after the Dark Lord's demise, he had come back to Order headquarters to help with the task of rebuilding the wizarding world. The Weasleys had not been the only ones surprised by Malfoy's show of humanitarianism. Malfoy did not volunteer any information on his strange actions and no one had asked. And now, he was apparently making pancakes in the Order's kitchen, which was perhaps stranger than his display of compassion.

"Malfoy," Ginny said slowly. "Are you cooking?"

"Yes."

Ginny processed this strange new intelligence for a moment.

"Huh," she finally said, and sank down into a chair at the table.

Malfoy actually looked at her then. "I repeat, Weasley, what are you doing awake at this ungodly hour?"

"Oh," Ginny said, waving a hand dismissively. "I haven't gone to sleep yet."

She wondered about her sudden familiarity with the ferret. While they had become decently civil with one another over the years, their relationship was a far cry from friendship.

She stood up suddenly. "I actually came down for a cup of tea."

Malfoy waved at a pot on the stove top beside him. "Help yourself."

Ginny got her favorite mug out of the cabinet and made her way to the stove. She stopped a few feet from the conveniently hot teapot which was inconveniently located in Malfoy's personal space. She was about to clear her throat so that he could move and she could politely pour her tea and leave when her eyes landed on an odd, circular object laying on the other side of stove. The earmuffs Malfoy had removed from his head earlier were laying on it, apparently connected to it by a cord.

"What is that?" she asked.

Malfoy chose that moment to move away from the stove, putting the pan he had used in the sink (which he was probably going to leave there, unwashed, Ginny thought uncharitably) and headed towards the table with a plate of delicious looking pancakes.

He set the plate down opposite the seat she had just been occupying.

"What is what?" he asked.

Ginny pointed to the thing. "That."

Malfoy looked at where she was pointed, and to her great confusion, smirked. "You don't know what that is? Well, I must say I'm surprised a Muggle-loving Weasley such as yourself doesn't know what a CD player is."

The word 'CD' registered a vague picture of something shiny in Ginny's mind, and then the pieces clicked.

"Music?" she asked, feeling even more confused. "You were listening to music?"

Malfoy nodded and sat down to his pancakes. Letting curiosity get the better of her, Ginny poured her tea quickly and sat down opposite the blond. He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair.

"What do you want, Weasley?"

"You were listening to Muggle music?" she asked, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

"Michael Jackson, if you must know," Malfoy answered, rolling his eyes in exasperation, although his cheeks had an unexpected pink tinge. "Now, can you leave so that I can eat my pancakes in peace?"

Ginny cocked her head to the side. "Who? And are you actually eating breakfast this early?"

Malfoy snorted with uncharacteristic mirth. "Breakfast? Are you mad? This is a midnight snack. I haven't exactly gone to bed either, Red. And what do you mean, 'who?'"

"Normally when one says 'who,' they mean that they are unaware of the identity of the person being referred to," Ginny babbled, surprised by how eloquent she sounded at four in the morning. Why had she never stayed up to write her Potions essays at four in the morning? "And where in Merlin's name did you get Muggle music?"

"I nicked it from Nymphadora," he explained, standing up.

"Tonks?" Ginny asked, surprised. "I didn't know you were on speaking terms with her."

Malfoy shrugged, getting another plate out of the cupboard. "You refer to stealing as speaking terms? Interesting."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's how it works in families and you are cousins, after all."

Malfoy made a noncommittal noise and slid back into his chair across from her, depositing the extra plate and cutlery with a clatter in front of her. Ginny frowned at it.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?"

"You keep looking at my pancakes as though you're trying to absorb them. Since you do not seem inclined to leave in the near future, I can hardly just let you sit there and watch me eat," he said, frowning. He took two of the pancakes off his plate and placed them on hers, pushing the plate towards her. "Here."

Ginny's eyebrows shot into her hair. "Thanks, Malfoy."

He grunted, causing Ginny to smile. Who knew that Draco Malfoy could be, dare she say it, nice?

"So," she said, after taking a bite. The pancakes tasted as good as they smelled. "Wow, Malfoy. These are really good. Where did you learn how to cook? And what about this Michael Jackson fellow?"

"You've really never heard of him?" Malfoy sounded genuinely surprised. "And here I thought you'd be ridiculing me by now."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You ridicule people, Malfoy. I am actually nice. And, no I haven't. I still can't believe you listen to Muggle music. You hate Muggles."

"True," Malfoy said, spearing pancake on his fork. "But it would be foolish to let my...lack of enthusiasm towards Muggles interfere with my appreciation of quality music."

Ginny's eyebrows went up. She was intrigued. "You're into music?"

Malfoy seemed offended by her simple question. "That is a gross understatement, Weaslette. Music is not something one can just be 'into,' as you so charmingly put it. True appreciation of music borders on something like obsession. I prefer to think of myself as a musical connoisseur."

He smiled as he said the last bit, obviously indulging his ego. Ginny laughed openly, making him frown.

"What?" he asked. "I am. I was one of the very first to start listening to the Weird Sisters."

Ginny leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand and raising her eyebrows. She wasn't buying his bull for a moment. "Really? When you were twelve?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "Certainly."

Ginny rolled her eyes and stretched out her hand for the CD player. Malfoy looked confused.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want to listen to this 'quality music,' Lord Connoisseur," she said, snorting at her own sarcasm.

Malfoy handed her the player and watched as she fiddled with it, suddenly aware of the fact that she had no idea what she was doing.

"How does this thing work?" she finally asked, flustered.

Malfoy sighed; it was a sigh of long-suffering at a Weasley's incompetence and Ginny could feel herself getting red and angry. The irritation lasted until Malfoy leaned forward and brushed her hair behind her ears and set the earmuffs on her head, shocking her out of any anger.

"Why did you give me earmuffs?" Ginny asked loudly, not knowing whether or not the earmuffs had had an effect on her sense of hearing.

Malfoy actually looked like he was about the laugh. He shook his head, covering his mouth with his hand.

"The sound comes out of the 'earmuffs,' Weaslette," he said. Was that...teasing in his voice? Ginny decided that the moment she had listened to this Michael Jackson she would get up and go straight to bed. Sleep deprivation was doing strange things to her perception of the world. She doubted what Malfoy called 'quality music' would be worth the confusion she was suffering, but seeing as she was already seated across from Draco Malfoy at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place at four in the morning with funny earmuffs on her head, she figured she may as well listen.

"I can't believe I have to teach a Weasley how to use a CD player," Malfoy muttered, his disgruntled smirk dissolved into one of amusement.

He pressed a button on the big circular thing the earmuffs were connected to. Ginny heard a whiz and then she heard what sounded like several deep, electronic gongs being hit, followed by a series of beats and then a guitar, the sounds coming out of the earmuffs, just as Malfoy had said. The voice that followed was a clear, male tenor, that Ginny was surprised to find very pleasant.

"You better run, you better do what you can
Don't wanna see no blood, don't be a macho man
You wanna be tough, better do what you can
So beat it, but you wanna be bad.

Just beat it, beat it, beat it..."

The chorus came on strong and Ginny found herself smiling. The song was surprisingly upbeat and hardly what she would have expected from Malfoy's music collection. Heavy metal seemed more like the appropriate genre for him. She began to lower the earmuffs.

"This is...really cool, Malfoy," she said. "Although definitely not what I would have thought you listen to. I'd have thought you'd be more of a Metallica sort of bloke."

He shrugged. "They're alright. Keep listening."

Ginny did as she was told, both to her and Malfoy's surprise, intently studying her empty plate as she furiously fought not to blush. The guitar solo caught her off guard, however, and she looked up at Malfoy, mouth open in surprise. Malfoy smirked smugly and Ginny found she was too awed by what he had introduced her to to want to smack him silly.

When the song faded to a close, she took off the earmuffs and Malfoy pressed another button on the CD player.

"That was..." Ginny trailed off, lost for words. She couldn't remember the last time she had been shocked into silence. Normally, she was impossible to shut up.

"Amazing?" Malfoy supplied. "Wonderful? Awe inspiring?"

Ginny finally had the presence of mind to scowl at him. At that very moment, the door to the kitchen opened, and a very sleepy Professor Lupin appeared.

He blinked at the scene before him, not unlike Ginny had done earlier that hour.

"Ginny?" Lupin asked. "Draco? What are you two doing up so early?"

Lupin had been the one to invite Draco into the Order when most everyone else had treated him as a pariah. Draco had apparently never forgotten Lupin's kindness, and an odd friendship had formed between the two.

Ginny opened her mouth to explain and Lupin held up a hand, stopping her.

"Never mind, I'd rather not know," he said, putting the pot of tea on the stove again. He yawned and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

Ginny looked at Malfoy, who's eyebrows were raised in amusement. She giggled for some reason, and stood up.

"I should really go to bed," she said. "Thanks for the pancakes, Malfoy."

He nodded, getting to his feet. "Your turn to cook next time."

Ginny's eyebrows went up. Next time? Then she grinned. "Sure. And what new music will the connoisseur bring for me?"

"Ah," Malfoy said, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "The one who cooks also brings the music, Weaslette."

"That's hardly fair, Malfoy," she complained. While she loved music, she hardly had anything that would be new to Malfoy, and for some odd reason she felt the need to impress him.

"Have I ever fought fair?" Malfoy asked.

Ginny thought on this for a moment, then grudgingly agreed that he had a point. "But I still want another Michael Jackson song."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and Ginny realized he was being dramatic. This caused her to smile.

"Go to bed, Red."

"A song, Malfoy," Ginny bartered.

"Fine. But I hardly expect you to be able to fully appreciate the beauty of 'Thriller,'" he said, doing a fine job of looking genuinely dubious.

Ginny grinned. "Try me."

Malfoy smirked. "Gladly."

"Good night, Malfoy," she said.

"Beat it, Weaslette."