Rating: R; for language
Disclaimer: Not. Mine. Okay. Sheesh. Rub it in, why don't you?
A/N: I realized I haden't written any fics since school, and decided to fix that.
“Ginny.” Hermione’s tone was sharp, “You know as well as I do that you cannot go outside. It’s dangerous.”
Ginny grit her teeth, and tried to bite back the angry words.
“I mean, honestly Ginny, it’s not like Harry will come back for you.”
Snap. The twig in Ginny’s hand snapped right along with her temper, “Oh really? Well he’s not coming back for you either Hermione, and neither is Ron. Once they got the information from your research they didn’t need you anymore, did they?”
Hermione gasped, “Once Harry got a quick fuck from you he didn’t need you anymore!”
Shaking her head sadly, Ginny hid a smirk, “Really, if that’s the best you can do. I never slept with him, Hermione. I’d like to think I’m… smarter than that.” She was rewarded by a slight flush in Hermione’s cheeks.
An inarticulate growl came from the bushy haired bookworm, before she turned and stormed off through the garden.
Ginny heaved a sigh, and settled back against the arms that encircled her. “That was close.”
A throaty chuckle reverberated next to her ear, “I never had a moment’s doubt you could drive her away.”
Half turning, the flame-haired girl buried her nose into His jacket. It smelled of rebellion, freedom, danger, despair and hope all at once.
“So how are the muggles, Draco?”
He glared at her, “You know, you’re lucky I like the peanut butter so much, or I’d really hate you.”
Giggles managed to escape from her mouth, “But you must,” snicker “admit,” and there she gave up and succumbed to the laughter.
His sneer faded and a soft smirk advanced onto his face, his gray eyes sparkling.
“Ginerva Weasley,” he whispered, “whatever will I do with you.”
Ginny stopped laughing and grabbed his face between her hands, staring at his nose, pink from the wind. “Why, “she stated, “marry me of course.”