He looked at her from across the room. It was study hall, but the last thing he was thinking about was his work. The potions assignment was merely a sad attempt at distracting him. His eyes kept staring at a table, the furthest away from his. She moved her radiant auburn hair from her face as her quill scratched the parchment; she bit her lip in concentration. She felt his eyes on her and looked at him, then behind her in confusion. Why the hell was he staring at her?

His gaze diverted back to his work, and he scribbled down the next sentence in his paper on Wolfsbane. His heart shouldn't flutter like that when she caught him staring. Again. He was a Malfoy; it shouldn't be "fluttering" at all. They were in completely different places in life. They were supposed to hate each other. She had no problem holding up her end of the bargain. The hate she felt for him was evident in every cold stare, every word dripping with venom. And to think she associated with Mudbloods and defended Potter. She was the last person he should focus on.

He'd looked down before he could see her quiet smile. Of all the Weasleys, Ginny was by far the most understanding and least judgmental, but also the most curious. Sure, Ron had been there for all the famous stunts of Harry Potter, but Ginny's curiosity was more potent. Addictive. Once a thought came into her mind, there was little she could do to distract herself for long. She felt his gaze on her again and looked up wistfully, lost in his striking gray eyes. Platinum blonde hair falling in his face. He looked…almost human. Were it not for her family's hatred of him, she might have smiled at him. Instead she held his stare, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach and the dry lump in her throat. And something else…something darker was stirring inside her. A part of her she'd never explored before. Stopping their staring match was a whistle from the Quidditch field; an excuse for her to look away. Nearly blushing, she picked up her books and walked to her dormitory.

Ginny was patrolling the halls that night, like the good prefect she was when she heard footsteps down the hall. Heavy, determined footsteps, almost aristocratic in their even step. Turning around, she saw him. Draco Malfoy, her worst enemy. The subject of all her curiosities. He was also a prefect, he had the right to be about…but where was he going? Before Ginny knew what she was doing, she was following him out of the castle.

He knew she was following him. Part of him much liked the idea this was happening. The rest of him knew he should be repulsed. That she would follow him like this…the gall…how dare her? What gave her the right; what nerve was this?

So if that's what he was really thinking, why was he smirking as he reached his destination?

Draco sat in the cool grass by the lake as he had many nights before and stared at the moon, wondering how long it would be before she made herself known. Minutes ticked away, and she still didn't say anything.

He breathed a sigh and lay down on the grass, supporting his head on his hands, arms behind his neck. His voice was darkly amused.

"What do you want, Weasley?"

She sat next to him, though a distance away. Three feet at most.

"Prefects aren't supposed to leave the castle after hours."

"Back off, Weasley. I can do what I want."

"You shouldn't be out here, Malfoy."

He turned to face her, pinning her with a deep, intense glare. "Neither should you."

Her brown eyes reflected the moonlight, and he wasn't sure what he saw there. It was something he hadn't noticed before. She was…concerned?

"Something is wrong."

He looked away at her words, trying to distance himself from her emotionally. "What's it to you?"

"We're not friends, Malfoy, we both know that. But that doesn't mean I can't be civil. I'm asking if you are all right."

Something about being in this place with her made him open up. Of course everything wasn't all right, he was feeling in ways he knew he couldn't. And yet the emotions were there no matter how he tried to rid himself of them. Without a word, he stood, walking back toward the castle. Ginny caught up with him, her voracious curiosity consuming her.

"You never answered my question."

He rounded on her, anger in his voice. "How am I supposed to?"

She took a breath. "You're mad at me now. Why?"

He considered explaining, but he had no words for her. Instead he continued walking to the castle, reaching the entrance from the courtyard as she finally caught up with him. "Malfoy! If something I've done is wrong, I've a right to know what it is!"

He turned on her again, this time forcing her against the stone wall. His breath was warm on her face. "My name," he struggled out, forcing her arms above her head, "Is Draco."

He claimed her lips in a heavy kiss, crushing her mouth against his. At first, Ginny didn't know what to make of it, but her split-second of indecision was pushed away by natural instinct. She kissed him back. Like she'd never kissed anyone before. He moved a hand from her wrists and gripped the back of her head, deepening the kiss. She opened her mouth to his tongue as she freed a hand, raking it through his soft hair. He released the other as she moaned into his mouth, breathing desire into his soul. His other arm circled her waist, crushing her between his body and the wall. He wasn't gentle, but it was a tender roughness, one she wouldn't have associated with Malfoy. But no, this…this person kissing her was not her enemy. She hated Malfoy. This was Draco. And Draco could be anything she needed him to be.

He moved from her swollen lips to place bruising kisses down her neck, he paused in the curve of it, tasting her creamy skin. His scent was overpowering. She bit back another moan as he marked her there, suckling the skin around the bite. She gasped a sigh. "Take me somewhere, Draco."

Moments later they were in the Room of Requirement. A four poster adorned in gold silk sheets and a green comforter was in the center of the room; the best mix of their House colors. No sooner were they through the door was he undressing her, tugging at her tie, un-tucking her blouse from her skirt. Ginny's robe fell to the floor as Draco ripped her blouse open, buttons dancing on the floor. The ruined garment fell around her feet. Through heated kisses she smoothed his robes off his arms. She felt his erection even through the cloth between them; she rocked her hips against him experimentally, pleased when he could not suppress a groan. Draco followed her lead and pinned her to the wall, arms above her head. His teeth scraped her bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth. Using the wall as leverage, Ginny smiled into his kiss as she flung them both onto the bed.

Surprised by their sudden flight, it took Draco a minute to distinguish where he ended and she began. Kissing her quickly, he flipped their positions and smoothed off her skirt, straddling her hips with his knees. Her small hands made quick work of his pants and shirt, leaving them both in their underclothes. He sat back on his heels and looked at her, surprised by his own sudden reverence. He looked at her then, her red hair fanned out behind her in a fiery halo, freckles sprinkled over her pale skin like cinnamon. Her full breasts were perfect for her petite frame; his eyes traversed her shapely legs and slender figure with visible pleasure. He hardened as he realized her knickers were already wet. Her voice shook him from his musings.

"What are you looking at?"

"You."

Her voice was breathy and an urgent whisper. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"How can you be so bloody calm about this? I don't know what to expect from you."

"We're in the same boat, then, Ginevra."

He called her Ginevra. Not even her mother called her that. She'd always hated the name, but from his mouth, it sounded almost like worship. A whispered prayer. A praise of the angels caressing her softly. Her heart soared against her will.

"Mal—Draco…maybe we should stop while we have the chance. We can both go back to our normal lives and forget this ever happened. Morning will come and we'll hate each other again."

"You could do that?"

"Could you?"

Draco shrugged, he didn't know. He'd gotten more than he'd bargained for in Ginny Weasley. The problem was he didn't know what he'd expected in the first place. He had no witty retort, no snide remark. He answered her honestly, and she could tell it was the truth when she looked in his eyes.

"No. I couldn't. And I have no idea why."

His answer gave her fire, more courage in her wants and desires. "Then don't stop, Draco."

He captured her lips with his, breathing heavily into the kiss, like a sigh he'd just released. He found himself stiff as a board when she grabbed him through his boxers. Quickly and with his former vigor, he unlatched her bra and filled his hands with her breasts; her nipples hardened painfully against his palms. He kissed his way down to the valley between her breasts, taking the time to worship each mound of soft flesh, taking each nipple into his mouth and biting down, gentle enough not to mark, but hard enough to cause her to moan. She bucked underneath him and grabbed his member, sending flames of passion into his kiss.

Draco continued to kiss down her stomach, toned from Quidditch, before his fingers slipped below the waist of her knickers. Ever so slowly, tantalizingly, he brought them down her legs, kissing the newly revealed skin. She kicked them off her feet before returning the favor; she couldn't avert her eyes as she saw his erection, hard and very promising. He moved his head between her legs, kissing her most intimate parts before darting a tongue inside. One of her hands twisted in the sheets while the other tangled his hair between her fingers. Needing, she egged him on, coaxing him to open her with his tongue, to delve into her with his expert long fingers. He worked her breasts once more, caressing and clenching his fists to elicit a reaction. He bit down slightly on her clit, relishing in the sweet essence that promised to flow any moment. She struggled out one word. "No…"

He stopped his ministrations and met her gaze. He didn't say anything, just waited.

Sweat was glistening on her brow, her hair sticking to the back of her neck slightly. Her eyes were shut tight as she drew breath rapidly. Her eyes shot open and met his, those swirling pools of silver and gray. "Not yet."

"Why?"

"I want…I want you."

"I know."

"No. Inside me. When this happens, when…" she trailed off, unsure of how to tell him why she was suddenly nervous. Her eyes lowered.

He understood. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

She merely nodded, then as an afterthought, a whispered, "Yes."

Draco didn't know why this mattered so much to him, or why he found himself genuinely smiling at her. It wasn't as if he hadn't bedded virgins before, he'd had more experience than most men twice his age. But with Ginny…it was somehow different. She challenged him in ways he wasn't ready for. In ways he couldn't explain.

He took a deep breath, stilling his own heart rate. "Do you want to still?"

"Yes."

He rolled back on top of her, his erection pressing into her thigh. "You're sure?"

He was gentler, more hesitant with her than she'd thought he'd be. She'd expected him to impale her now, ride her hard and be unforgiving, and leave as soon as he was finished. But he was asking for assurance. She wasn't naïve enough to think he loved her, but against his better judgment and will, he cared in some small way. That was enough for her. She trailed her fingers up his member in a feather-light caress, driving him past the point of insanity.

"Positive."

She continued her ministrations until she felt him harder than ever, and let him spread her legs with his hand. He positioned himself at her entrance; his tip was inside her and she tensed.

"Don't. Relax," he cautioned. "Keep your eyes open."

She nodded her agreement.

"This will hurt. But trust me."

She didn't know why, but she did.

In one smooth motion, he was completely inside her. He was right. It did hurt. More than she'd thought possible. Like a hot knife between her thighs. Her scream was more of a whimper as tears sprang to her eyes. He saw this and stilled his movements, trying not to react to her. She was so tight, her walls clenched around him, begging him to move though he didn't want to hurt her. "Do it, Draco. Please."

Her plea was so pitiful; he almost thought she'd die if he didn't move that moment. He pulled out of her slowly, only to fill her again; she latched her long legs around him and met his thrust, her moans the testament of her pleasure. He tried to be soft; he didn't want to pain her.

She angled her position to increase the friction. "More."

That was all it took. Never in his life had Draco been so primal with a woman. He pounded into her relentlessly, expecting her to cry for him to stop, but instead he found her meeting his thrusts, raking her nails along his back, biting into his shoulder to stifle her screams. He reached between them and pinched her clit, rubbing her just the right way as he continued to ride her. Then she did something neither of them expected. She flipped him over so she was in control.

Using her muscular thighs, she rose and lowered herself onto him in a frenzy, trying to bring herself to the completion she knew was approaching. The delicious tightness between her thighs stretched to her stomach, she felt like he was inside her everywhere. He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her deeply, his tongue mimicking their bodies as it delved into her mouth. She tasted herself on his tongue, and knew she was close. She moved so he was almost all the way out of her, and moved back so suddenly he filled her to the hilt. He moaned loudly in her ear, and she came. White lightning behind her eyelids, she screamed her release, her walls clenching around him and milking his cock. Draco flipped their positions one more time, using more languid strokes to ease her through the orgasm. She shuddered around him, collapsing into a million pieces, and he roared his own release, filling her with him.

When they both reached a level of breathing where they could think semi-coherently, she kissed him, seductively, trying to express her passionate gratitude and fulfilled fantasies in a simple kiss. He returned the favor, then pulling away and giving her his famous smirk, knowing things could never be the same again. Not when he knew everything about her from just once, and yet nothing at the same time. He pulled out of her, and she moaned at the loss of his warmth. She felt strangely empty, but her desire-sated body told her otherwise. She was the fullest she'd ever been, completely used and contentedly happy.

He lay on his back and moved her to lie on his chest, her hair plastering to his pecs. She nearly laughed. Who'd have though Draco Malfoy was a cuddler after sex? They lay there together for who knows how long, listening to the rain that started to fall outside. She knew one of them should leave. Most likely her. As she gained enough strength to move, she tried to release herself from his embrace, but he tightened his hold on her, throwing an arm over her hip possessively. "Don't. Not yet."

She nodded, settling back down against him. Moments passed in awkward silence. They both knew the other was wondering the same thing: What now?

"I'm not going to change, Ginevra."

Her eyebrows knit together as she tried to decipher his meaning. "What?"

"I'm not looking to be saved. I don't need salvation. I will always be what I am. Nothing, not even you, can change it."

She nearly scoffed. "Excuse me if I don't believe that."

"Who says you know anything about me, Ginny? What makes you think you're different than any of the other girls I've bedded?"

"You tell me. You seem to feel the same."

How could she know that? Was it that transparent? He drew away from her, looking down at her, locking eyes in a piercing gaze. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

"You were the one who got all romantic and sentimental on me. I just wanted you. How do you know I didn't just want a good first time?"

"Because that's not like you, Ginevra."

"How would you know what I'm like?"

"I wouldn't. But I can tell."

She felt her temper start to rise; he was such a hypocrite. "Then maybe you should accept that fact that I see you as a human being. I don't judge you like the rest of my family does. I see you as a person. And I want to save this person."

Her soft words angered him, past the point of explanation. Enraged, he thrust his forearm at her, "Does this look like I can be saved?"

She recognized it right away. The Dark Mark. A black serpent emblazoned on his arm, the sign of all those loyal to the Lord Voldemort. And she didn't bat an eye. "I figured you'd have one by now."

"This isn't a joke. This is no ink, it will never come off. I will be marked like this for the rest of my life. It's the path I've chosen."

"It's the path you're walking now. But I think you could see things a different way if you really wanted to."

"But I don't. I choose to be loyal to the Dark Lord. I praise his every endeavor. Now what? Still so wise?"

She shook her head sadly, leaning over to kiss him once. Slow and sweet; a promise. She broke away and turned over to sleep. "I've got more faith in you than that, Draco."

So...what do you think? I'm planning on doing more with this if you guys want it, I promise I'll try and update! If not I'll leave it a one-shot. But reviews, por favor!