Well, surprise, surprise! They don't actually seem too upset with me at all! "Draco!" says Pansy. "Where'd you go after the game? I was so worried. I've been hearing rumors about a certain Gryffindor girl trying to win you over!"

"What girl? Pansy, don't be stupid. It didn't work out with Granger, remember? She got jealous of my perfect hair," I run a hand through my hair.

Pansy quirks on eyebrow. "Right... no. It wasn't Granger I was talking about."

"Well who then?"

She keeps an eyebrow lifted but doesn't say anything.

Slam!

Ow! "Ha. Haha." Crabbe and Goyle. I must tell them that the point of manly slaps on the back is not to break the intended victim's back.

"Yes, har har, but would you two mind leaving? Pansy's about to give me important information about another one of my fans."

Crabbe eyes Pansy, trying for nonverbal communication without the usual violent gesticulations, and it works! "Yes," Pansy tells him silkily. "He still doesn't know."

"Who doesn't know what?" I demand.

"Oh, no one," Pansy answers. "Listen, Draco," she says, sidling up and pressing herself against me. "How'd you like to check out my new...er..." she glances around. "My new wand-polishing kit?"

Hm...tempting, but slightly repulsive. I don't know where her wand-polishing kit's been. "You know, my wand's fine. Crabbe and Goyle's are looking pretty grubby though." It's getting stuffy in here. "I think I'll go for a walk."

Oh, good. Another narrow escape. Sometimes Pansy can be quite determined and I really wouldn't mind a walk. Somehow, I'm not in the mood for Slytherin company.

Why is there a shimmering green arrow on the ground?

Hm...must be Mrs. Norris; Peeves keeps pulling pranks on her, getting her to piss in different shapes and colors. Last time, there was a little pool shaped like Filch, dressed in a slip and cowboy boots.

Up in the Entrance Hall, must hide behind statue of ugly fat witch, oh, actually it's a statue of Fudge. Wonder what that's doing here? Anyway, Potter and Weasley just came out of the Great Hall, both their shining, happy faces stuffed with food, like gophers with acorns but no fur.

"Didju see 'is bace?" Weasley manages to say through his stuffed mouth.

"Brickin' Briceless," mumbles Potter.

"We're gonna binfur sure. Mum'll be so broud," he sighs. Pathetic, Weasley. Your team's going to win the Quidditch Cup and you're happy your mum will be impressed.

"Ya...good job, bate," Potter says, his voice trailing off as they walk away, and it's safe to come out of Fudge's shadows.

Well look at this! Another little arrow. I wonder...hm...but I don't think I'll follow it. I'm much too tired, and probably should go back to the Common Room, if only to make sure Pansy isn't trying to polish Crabbe's wand.

Well, look at this, the little bugger is following me, racing in front of me to point in the direction opposite the dungeons. I may as well bite.

Okay, out on the grounds, and it's still skirting in front of me like an eager puppy. It is most definitely not made of Mrs. Norris' piss, even though it's gliding across the grass like water, because Peeves just isn't capable of motivating piss to move.

Anyway, look at that. It's stopped. It's pointing at a tree, a willow near the lake that's glowing.

Oh, Merlin. Not another Pixie infestation. I really don't want to take them on alone, but if they're left alone for too long, they'll probably start breeding like rabbits. Time to get out the wand.

"Peskipiksipesternomi!" Damn. I should have known that wouldn't work. I've got to stop reading Lockhart's books.

"They're not pixies, you know"

Woah! Ginny Weasley, right behind me that whole time!

"Pixies are blue, remember? These are just fairies," she smiles quietly.

"Well, what the hell are they doing in here?" Sure enough, they are fairies, their toes holding onto the willow branches like Christmas ornaments. A little pink one's glowing vigorously and winking at me. Cheeky thing.

I look back at the girl and she's just smirking at me, shaking her head slightly like I'm some stupid git. "Do you really not get it?" she asks, scooting up close, not with the lion stance, like Pansy, but with more of a smooth, leopard-like attack. I must admit I like it.

"Get what?"

Her eyes are practically drinking in my face, her smile's still predatory. I like this too. I can smell her...she still smells like the Quidditch pitch. Lovely. "Everything. Do you not get it yet?"

Quidditch pitch or not, this is getting tedious. "Get WHAT? Listen, Weasley-"

"Ginny."

"Ya, whatever. How am I supposed to know why fairies are hanging from the tree, or why Crabbe and Goyle-my sidekicks-are showing some strange allegiance to you, or what you were doing in the hall that night, or who you were looking for, or why a little arrow decided to lead me here, or why you're here? Why are you here, anyway?"

She's been laughing. Really laughing. "You!" Her hand grabs my shoulder. I don't know whether it's to steady herself from laughing or...

...well, in any case, I like it.

"You, Draco Malfoy," she says, the laughter gone, the smile fading.

Okay. Her hand is still on my shoulder. I know she's recovered.

"I'm here because of you." She looks so serious.

Wait.

"It was all because of you," and she's getting dangerously close.

"...but, you're a Gryf-a Weasley."

"Yes, I am aware," she says, the smirk back as she eyes me mockingly.

Okay. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it, and what's more, I don't think she'll mind. I've got to push that stubborn bit of red hair back from her face, even if it's just to know how soft it is. And, there. "You know, I am a Malfoy. You do remember, right? You remember everything that's happened while we've been at school here?" I can't help this either, I'm using my husky voice, you know, the sexy one. I simply can't resist when she's just eating it up like that.

"But you're not really all that bad, are you?" she asks, and suddenly, her arms are around my middle.

No, of course I'm not bad, sugar. No...hm...she can handle it: "You'd better believe it, baby."

All of a sudden, we're snogging. I don't know how it happened, who started it, or what the devil it is she's doing with her tongue, but this is wonderful. Who knew Gryffindors knew how to do this kind of stuff? And she smells just so lovely. You gotta love a girl who smells like Quidditch.

Wait. "Ginny, did you score that goal? You know, the one that cost me the Quidditch Cup?"

"Er...no," she says, still staring fixedly at my mouth.

"What? Oh, come on! I lost the Snitch because I watched you try and make that goal, and you didn't even make it? What happened? You're a great Chaser! You should've got it."

She's gaping up at me in surprise. "Is this really that important right now?" Then, she literally attacks my neck with her teeth. Ah...

"No. No, definitely not," no one would blame me for squeaking a bit like Neville Longbottom, with what she's up to. It's very nice.

"Anyway," she smirks, looking back up. "It was your fault I missed it."

"Excuse me?" I ask, smiling back.

"Yes, you distracted me," she says, and tiptoes to give me a peck on the nose, a definite mark of ownership, and Merlin's beard, I like that too.