Disclaimer: None of it is mine except the plot.
Notes: Inspired by the series of vignettes that Liebling is doing with Parvati and Seamus. I know, this doesn't really qualify as a vignette, but it was the best I could come up with. Anyway, move your cursor up to that little word that says 'Find', click on it and find Liebling. Then read her vignettes. She does these so much better than I do. (Yes, this is a stupid story and doesn't even have the redeeming quality of being a romance. But Ginny won't go to Brazil like a good girl and I had to write something.)
"So, what's that you're reading, Weasley?"
Ginny Weasley looked up from the novel she'd been reading to stare suspiciously at the blond boy standing over her. She quickly straightened from the half-reclining position she'd taken on one of the library's window seats and flashed the cover at him, waiting for the usual male response.
"'Love's Lost Litany'?" Draco Malfoy asked, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "You waste your time on that romance crap?"
"I like it," she replied, settling against the wall once more and brushing a bit of lint from her robe. "Besides, just because it's romance, doesn't make it crap."
The young man snorted. "Maybe not, but it doesn't have anything to do with real life, does it?"
Ginny looked around the library, wondering why, of all people, he'd chosen to bother her. Since they seemed to be the only students in the library at the moment, she found her answer. Not even the librarian seemed to be about. Sighing, she braced herself for an uncomfortable few minutes.
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked. "People fall in love all the time."
With another smirk, Draco leaned down and snatched the book from her hand. Ginny didn't bother to protest. He would have his little insult and he would give the book back and wander away, waiting for someone else to bother. It was just the way he was. Instead, she crossed her arms and waited.
Draco flipped to the page the girl had slipped a bookmark into and began to read aloud. "'Of course I love you, Priscilla,' Geoffrey cried. 'I shall always love you and do my utmost to make you happy. I would give you the world if you only asked" he intoned dramatically. "Priscilla sighed and clasped her hands to her bosom, her happiness knowing no bounds…'"
"Good lord, Weasley, how do you stand it? Real people don't talk like that! It's just disgusting."
Ginny shrugged and held her hand out for her book. Surprisingly, he handed it over. "I don't really care. I like it. Besides, Malfoy, how would you know how lovers talk? Have you ever been in love?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, but even if I was, I wouldn't suddenly start spouting that poetic crap. And if some boy started spewing that drivel to you, you'd probably laugh in his face, wouldn't you, Weasley?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't seem to be the type to elicit that sort of reaction from a boy." She waited for him to sneer or agree. He didn't, which was odd. Ginny decided to go on. "But now I'm curious, Malfoy. If you wanted to tell a girl you loved her, what would you do? I mean, what is the customary Slytherin expression of affection?"
He raised his eyebrows at her straightforward question. With a thoughtful frown, he motioned for her to scoot over, then sat down beside her.
"I don't know about other people," he finally told her. "I suppose I'd do something like this."
He reached out and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, not very gently. Ginny didn't quiet gasp, but she did try to pull away. He was relentless, though. Tugging her toward him, he looked seriously into her eyes and said, "I love you, right?"
Releasing her, he leaned back. Ginny frowned at him. "You're right. You, at least, are not very romantic. I suppose as an expression of affection, that rates…"
A feminine screech suddenly rent the previously peacefully hushed atmosphere of the library. Ginny and Draco both turned to see Pansy Parkinson staring at them, her face red and her hands clenched into fists.
"You can't be serious, Draco! I thought you and I had an understanding! Everyone knows!"
The young man stood calmly and looked, almost resignedly at the outraged girl. "Pansy, the only person who thinks we have an understanding is you. I told you two years ago that there was nothing between us. Now, what I said to Weasley was—"
He got no further. "I don't care what you said to her! You couldn't have meant it! I know you didn't! She's--she's a bloody Gryffindor, for the lord's sake!"
Draco looked mildly disgusted while Ginny just felt a bit amused. She wondered how Malfoy was going to get himself out of this mess but he didn't bother trying to disillusion the irate Slytherin girl again. Now Ginny stood, wanting to nip this misunderstanding in the bud. "Look, Parkinson, it's not--,"
"Shut up, you conniving little bitch!" Pansy snapped. "I still don't believe it!"
"Now, just a second, you pug-faced--," Ginny began, but Pansy cut her off again.
"If you really meant it," she said, turning from Draco to glare at Ginny. "Then kiss her, and prove it!"
"Are you out of your bloody mind?" Ginny demanded.
She would have just stormed away, but Malfoy turned to her, a sly grin on his face.
"Fine," he said suddenly, pulling Ginny to face him. "If that's what Pansy wants, then, by all means, Weasley, let's prove it!"
Ginny's eyes widened as she realized what he meant, but she couldn't help returning the evil grin when she heard Parkinson's gasp of outrage. Then Draco pulled her closer and lowered his mouth to hers. Getting into the game, Ginny stood on her toes and placed her hands on his shoulders.
"NO!" Pansy shrieked. "NO, NO, NO!"
Ginny heard the girl run away, sobbing, and felt her mouth move into a wide smile. She could feel Malfoy's mouth smiling as well. He hadn't really kissed her, he'd only pressed his lips to hers. But from where Parkinson had been standing, it had probably looked quite real. Sudden laughter bubbled up, and Ginny pushed away before bursting out with a definitely not-very-nice chuckle.
"You are sooo evil, Malfoy!" she accused, her eyes dancing. "That was brilliant!"
He was still grinning slyly, his own eyes bright and amused. "I was rather good, wasn't I?" he said.
"You're not the least bit vain, then, are you?" she teased.
He shrugged and gave her one of his best smirks. "And why shouldn't I be? I'm good-looking, smart, and, according to you, brilliantly evil. I think I deserve a bit of vanity, don't you?"
Ginny was still chuckling. "If you're so smart, what are you going to do when she gets those gits Crabbe and Goyle to smash that pretty face of yours?"
He waved it away. "They wouldn't dare. Anyway, they detest her as much as I do. By the way," he added, sitting again. "I was curious. What exactly were you going to call her? A pug-faced what?"
Ginny's face flushed. "Definitely NOT for mixed company. And you're sitting on my book."
He shifted and retrieved the book, handing it back to her. "Come up here a lot, do you, Weasley?" he said conversationally.
"Why? You thinking of making it a habit of bothering me?"
He stood and smirked at her. "Just asked, Weasley. No need to get defensive. I didn't realize you were scared of me."
"Hardly," she retorted, rolling her eyes and lifting her chin. "I just like my privacy. This is about the only place I can find any. I'm up here nearly every night."
He nodded. "Right then. You know, Weasley, you're pretty brilliant, yourself, the way you caught on so fast," he said, reaching to wrap a hand around her neck. His gaze was very serious when he said, "I like you, right? See you, then. Tomorrow night."
Releasing her, he strolled away. Ginny stared after him for a moment before finding her place in her book again. The grin on her face widened as she realized that he'd lied. Despite what he'd said earlier, he had just spouted poetry.