The grounds seemed to echo the blackness that covered Ginny Wealsey’s sight as she walked carefully towards the Quidditch pitch. The only sound in the entire grounds came from the crunch of leaves beneath her sneakers as she walked and the quiet whispers of breath that escaped her lips. She had her cloak wrapped tightly around her body, hoping to urge out the chill that had settled into her skin since she stepped into the cold night. She wished she could magic some warmth into her skin, but she had discovered that she had forgotten her wand in her dormitory in her excitement, or was it trepidation that she felt? She couldn’t actually decide. One moment she was so excited she could hardly stand it, the next she was so nervous and frightened she didn’t know what to do with herself.
Part of her had wanted to run back up to Gryffindor Tower as soon as she discovered that she was without her wand, but she knew if she did that it was very likely she would be caught either going up, or coming back down. And she did not fancy being dragged up to Snape’s office in the middle of the night by one of the Carrows. And even if she wasn’t caught she would be even later than she already was, and Dean would not be very impressed. He had sent her a note at dinner, requesting that she meet him in the Gryffindor showers by the Quidditch pitch at precisely 9:00. He hadn’t spelled out what he wanted, but she could put two and two together easily enough. She had been on edge ever since.
She crossed the steep slope that lead into the stadium and paused outside of one of the shower facilities. She thought this was the right one, but she could very well have turned course somewhere without realizing it. She might even be on the opposite end of the pitch outside of the Ravenclaw showers. But no, the dots of light coming from the windows up at the castle were behind her, not in front. So this at least wasn’t the Ravenclaw showers, nor Hufflepuff. With only another moments hesitation she pushed open the door, her stomach suddenly twisted into knots.
Light flooded out from the facility and Ginny shielded her eyes as she stepped forward. Even with her hand in front of her face and her eyes half shut, the light stung them and she was forced to stand in the doorway, blinking rather stupidly to adjust to the new lighting.
Once her eyes had adjusted, she looked around. These facilities looked exactly like the Gryffindor ones; there were the metal lockers on one side, the wooden benches just in front of her, with wood flooring under foot and the showers hidden in a corner to her left. Now that she listened, she realized that she could hear water running in one of the stalls and she took a small step toward her left, her curiosity peaked. She craned her neck forward, trying to get a glimpse into the shower itself. Was it Dean?
The water cut off, and Ginny quickly spun away. She hid her curiosity for the moment and opened one of the lockers. She began to rummage around inside and found a number of things including deodorant, a comb, hair gel, and standard Hogwarts robes. She rummaged through these, looking for the tie or scarf, hoping that the familiar red and gold of Gryffindor would greet her. Her fingers brushed against a silky feeling something and she picked it up. Well, it was a tie, alright, although it definitely didn’t feel like a standard-issue Hogwarts one. She pulled it towards the light and nearly dropped it when the silver and green flashed up at her. She was in the Slytherin showers. Of all the shower facilities she could have stepped into…
Ginny was about to toss the tie back into the locker and make a run for it when she heard the unmistakeable sound of someone clearing their throat. She froze, the silk tie still wrapped in her fingers. “What exactly is it that you are looking for in my locker, Weasley?” Draco Malfoy’s slippery voice whispered in her ear and tickled the invisible hairs on her neck.
Ginny swallowed hard and slowly turned, regretting more than ever that she hadn’t brought her wand when she saw that Malfoy had his pointed at her. It was not the best way to be found in her rival houses’ showers, especially when the one who found her was Malfoy.
She was further horrified to notice that Malfoy himself wore nothing more than a loosely wrapped towel, and that he had yet to dry himself off from the shower. Beads of water clung to his muscled body, and his beyond-blonde hair hung in long strands around his head, sticking to his face in places, in others, framing his patrician features nicely. He almost had that sexy bad-boy look about him, if only he wasn’t wearing the sneer on his face.
Malfoy snatched the tie from her and glared at her. “Well?”
His voice brought her back into the present, and her cheeks flamed when she realized she had been staring, and worse yet, who she had been staring at. She couldn’t believe herself, thinking thoughts like those about Draco Malfoy; he was in no way sexy, bad boy or no.
Draco shot the query at her again and Ginny found her mind was irritably blank. All she could think about was that loosely wrapped towel and what might happen if it were to fall off. She gave her head a shake and opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no excuse came out. Instead she mumbled, “What are you doing out here?”
Malfoy stared at her for a long moment, aggravation showing clearly on his face. “Taking a shower. What the hell does it look like?”
“So you…you just had practice, did you?” Why the hell was she making small talk with Draco Malfoy?
“Yeah. I did. Move.”
He shouldered passed her and grabbed the comb from his locker. He pushed it through his hair, and Ginny resisted the urge to reach out and touch the white-blonde strands. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at him, though. Her eyes trailed mercilessly down his body, taking in every inch of his pale skin. She swallowed hard to try to dissolve the knot in her stomach that had nothing to do with feeling threatened by him.
He seemed to be able to feel her eyes on him because he slowly glanced over his shoulder. When he discovered her gaze, he raised his eyebrows up at her and turned around, the towel slipping a little lower as he did so. It was precariously close to falling off completely. His wrist jerked slightly, and she was greeted with a brief flash of black. Tension ran up her spine as she was instantly reminded that Malfoy was not just a Slytherin, he was a Death Eater.
“What are you doing here, Weasley?”
“Er…” She could hardly tear her eyes away from the towel that was only just clinging around him, but when she reminded herself that he was a Death Eater her eyes drew away more easily. The corners of his lips turned up into a smirk and her cheeks once again flushed crimson. Ginny forced herself to think about his question, and not about his nearly naked body. She knew one thing for sure: she wasn’t about to tell him that she was supposed to be meeting Dean Thomas for a late night romp in the Gryffindor showers. Ginny winced at the though; she had totally forgotten, and now she was even later than she had been originally. “I should uhm…go…”
Ginny stepped towards the door, half expecting (and hoping) that Malfoy would stop her. He didn’t take his eyes off of her willowy frame, but neither did he move. She paused just as she reached the door, and glanced behind her, hoping to see him standing only a few feet away, or at least pining after her as she left. But he had turned back to his locker and was resuming his grooming. Ginny sighed and left the showers.
She found her way to the Gryffindor showers easily from the Slytherin ones, and found that they, unlike those she had just left, were pitch black. Her stomach dropped slightly; had she missed him? Ginny stood in the doorway, staring into the darkness for a few long moments before whispering into the dark, “Dean?”
No one answered. Ginny swallowed hard, the image of Draco Malfoy’s glistening body still imprinted into her eyes. Part of her hoped it would be he who would emerge from the shadows, that confident smirk plastered on his face, and the other part was utterly disgusted that she thought that. But it wasn’t Draco Malfoy who emerged from the shadows. It was just an illuminated wand tip at first, and then Dean himself as the light grew. He was frowning at her. “What happened to 9:00? It’s quarter to ten.”
“Sorry I er…I forgot my wand in the dormitories so it took a while to get here.”
“You forgot your wand?” he raised his eyebrows up at her. “Merlin, Ginny, what are you on lately?”
Ginny scoffed and turned around. “I’m going to bed.”
“Wait! Gin…” Ginny felt Dean’s hand on her arm, and her expression softened slightly. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. I know you’ve had a lot on your mind lately.”
Slowly, she turned, and stared up into Dean’s hopeful face. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear affectionately and offered her a thin smile. His head dipped and his lips gently caressed hers. She could just about taste his nervousness, and she forced herself to relax into his arms. This was Dean. Why shouldn’t she relax?
When he felt her begin to relax into his body, his confidence seemed to grow, because Dean threw his arms around Ginny’s waist rather awkwardly and pulled her tight to him. She ran her fingers over his knitted Hogwarts sweater absently as he deepened the kiss. He seemed to want to taste every inch of her mouth as his tongue roamed around inside of it, skimming first the sharp edges of her teeth, then caressing the rough roof of her mouth and finally her tongue. A shiver ran up Ginny’s spin and Malfoy’s face flew into her mind.
Immediately her eyes flew open, and she was shocked to see that his pictured remained for a long moment, before slowly dissolving into Dean’s. She pulled away from the black boy quickly, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. She should not be seeing Malfoy’s face – or any other part of his anatomy – as she kissed her boyfriend. She should not be seeing his face at all.
Dean stared at her incredulously for a few seconds before throwing a husky-voiced query her way, “What did I do?”
Ginny almost didn’t hear him, her mind still full of Malfoy’s steel-coloured eyes. She blinked rapidly a few times, trying to wash Malfoy from her thoughts and absorb Dean’s much warmer, chocolate-coloured eyes into her mind.
“Ginny?” he prompted.
“Sorry.” She muttered quickly, realising she had not answered him, “I just…I just don’t want my first time to be on the floor of the Quidditch showers.”
He continued staring at her nearly unblinking, and she shifted nervously under his gaze. The way he was looking at her made her feel like he knew exactly who she had been thinking about. But that was absurd. There was no plausible way that he knew, she just felt guilty. “Maybe…maybe I should just go back to the castle.” she continued.
She took a quick step towards the door, and Dean grabbed her arm again. She turned to look at him, hoping to get some clue as to what he was thinking, but his face was cast in shadows and the little she could see, was no help. “No.” he said simply.
“Dean…”
“C’mon, Gin. We’ve been together a while now…”
Ginny’s expression soured and her mouth curled into a scowl. They had not been together a while, they had only just started seeing each other again. “Yeah, if you don’t count the six month break we took. And I already told you: if you think that I’m going to have my first time be in the Gryffindor showers, forget it.”
She yanked her arm away and stalked back out the way she came. She stormed through the grounds, noticing a yellow beam of wand light bobbing toward her. She fancied that it would be Draco on the end of the wand, looking for her. He would pull her into the shadow of the castle and seat her on the lake bed where they would watch the stars and he would suggest that they spend the night together, after reciting a poem.
Ginny’s foot caught on an upturned rock and she stumbled forward, throwing her out of the daydream. She paused in her march, her mouth gaping open slightly. Merlin’s Pants! She had just been fantasizing about Draco Malfoy. This was the boy who had tortured her, almost with fascination ever since first stepping onto the Hogwarts Express, the very person who had let Death Eaters into the school last year and caused Dumbledore’s death. He was the reason Death Eaters now ran the school. What was wrong with her?!
She ran a hand over her face, deciding she needed to get to bed. She was obviously over tired, that was the only explanation for her ever procuring such a thought. Yes, exhaustion and the stress of the past few months. That was it.
Ginny resumed her march back up to the castle, the beam of light bobbing ever closer to her. Ginny’s insides squirmed and her spine tingled. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her lingering fantasy of Malfoy, or because it could be anyone walking towards her. And she was still without a wand.
She was almost back at the castle when she realized who the someone was on the other end of the wand. She tried to dive into the shadows, but he was too quick for her. He stepped in front of her, his hooked nose illuminated by the wand light. “Isn’t it a little late for a stroll, Weasley?” His tone was oddly friendly.
“I…er…”
“Yes?”
“I just had Quidditch practice.”
She winced as soon as the words left her mouth – Snape would know that the Slytherin’s just been practicing.
Snape’s lips curled into a slight sneer and he shoved the wand light toward her, his eyes piercing into her. Ginny avoided his gaze, knowing full well from Harry’s accounts of the previous year about his skill with Occlumency. “Try again, Weasley. We both know that was a lie. Or perhaps you’d like to come to my office to discuss this?”
“No! I…can’t I just go to bed, sir? I’m awfully tired and…”
“What were you doing?”
Ginny’s leg had started twitch slightly in her nervousness and her fingers clenched and unclenched in her pocket as if looking for her wand. “If you must know…” she started slowly, “I couldn’t sleep so…I was…I went to Professor Dumbledore’s grave.” That excuse was just as flimsy as the last, and Ginny knew it; Dumbledore wasn’t buried the way she had come at all. But hopefully Snape would be so distracted by the words that he wouldn’t think logically.
Snape’s features contorted slightly, and he looked passed her, toward where she knew Dumbledore to be buried. She thought she heard a slight hitch in his breath for a moment, but the next it was gone. “Get yourself up to your dormitory. If I ever catch you out of bed after hours again…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence, Ginny knew exactly what the last bit was, “…you’d better start packing your bags.” Or worse.
Ginny hurried off, nearly running to get back into the castle. As she stepped into the Entrance Hall she cast a look back at where Snape was and saw the tip of his light bobbing in the direction of Dumbledore’s grave. Her brow contorted slightly, almost in worry, wondering what he was planning on doing, before remembering that the Carrows might be out tonight. She pushed all thoughts about Snape and Dumbledore out of her mind for the time being – she’d mention it to the DA next meeting, and go check out the burial spot herself tomorrow after class - and hurried as quietly as possible through the castle to the Gryffindor Dormitory.