The door of the lift opened and they walked inside. Nobody else was in the lift. Draco pushed the button marked "7." The lift moved up, marking each floor with a quaint little ding.

Without warning, Ginny elbowed him in the ribs.

"Malfoy. You want my shirt."

"What?"

"You want my shirt," she repeated. Her tone was somewhere between amused and accusing. Draco responded with an un-Malfoy-like snort. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. You've been eyeing it since we were in the hallway."

He glanced sideways at the pixie of a girl Ginny was to see if she was joking. She was being ridiculous. The top of her red head barely reached his chin. "I'm five-eleven, broad-shouldered and muscular, Weasley. What makes you think I want your shirt?"

"I don't just think it, Malfoy. I know."

Draco's expression was incredulous. "Right, because I frequently look at girls and say 'she looks nice in that shirt, but it'd look way better on me.' Right."

Ginny patted his arm gently and smiled conspiratorially. "That's okay, Malfoy. We all have our little secrets."

Before he could argue, the lift doors opened and Ginny walked out, leaving Draco gaping at her disappearing form with his mouth hanging open.