Title: (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull at hotmail

A/N: Well, I'm not quite sure where this came from. I was feeling a bit naughty and it just sort of came to me. I tried to write something like this before, but it just didn't work out. Don't know if this one did either though. Anyhoo, this is in tribute to the SARS concert that took place on July 30th. I didn't get to go. ~sob~ I am dedicating this story to my friend Lallie though, even if it is already tributed. It's allowed! Its mine! Well, she did after all, get me addicted to this wonderful song. So go to your "illegal" MP3 source and download it now!

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters. I do not own the songs 'Satisfaction' or 'Raise a Little Hell' either. Nor do I own Mick Jagger. ~sigh~ Life sucks.

(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction

-o-

Ginny Weasley tried to relax as she leaned back against the wall of the oversized bathtub she was in. She glared at the bubbles that were tickling her nose, taunting her. She had decided to make use of her Friday evening and take a bath in an attempt to relax. She had yet to see any sign of relaxation however, and the bubbles seemed to realize this.

In fact, all that this bath seemed to do was encourage her to think, which in turn was causing her to be more stressed out than she usually was. Yet it wasn't that Ginny was stressed out at school, for she rarely had any work to do, it being her sixth year and all. She wasn't stressed out at her duties of being a prefect either, for in truth it gave her something to do. And she wasn't stressed out at You-Know-Who and his minions, which she probably should have been.

No, Ginny Weasley was not stressed out by things most sixteen year olds would be stressed out by. She was stressed out by something that every sixteen year gets stressed out over at one point or another during their year being sixteen: her relationships. And it wasn't just her romantic ones, but the ones concerning her friends and family as well.

It seemed that in every single relationship she had with anyone she knew, just wasn't as satisfying as it should be. Like she wasn't getting all that she should though she was giving it all that she had. Not that Ginny was a selfish person, but life just gets to a point where it will turn any girl to resort to feeling unsatisfied in life.

To start it all off there was her mother, Molly Weasley, who still saw her as her "little baby girl". She constantly told Ginny that she was too young to join the Order, even though all her brothers were now members. In her defense, Ginny would insist that she was not a child and was older than Ron when he had begun to dig around in dangerous things. She knew it was rather childish to pull her brother into the situation, but she figured her mother was taking cheap shots herself so why couldn't she? Yet despite her many battles and rows with her mum, Ginny never did get anywhere.

The beginning of Ginny's dissatisfaction: the inability to prove herself.

The next point was her involvement with the Dream Team. Over the years she had been getting closer and closer to their little trio, but she had yet to make their threesome a foursome. And she was beginning to get the feeling that she never would. Sure, she was a part of the remaining DA group, but it just wasn't the same. The Dream Team never took the DA on adventures for it would be "too much trouble", or something along those lines. And Ginny couldn't create her own Dream Team and go on adventures herself for who really cared about the Dark Lord's former possession? Not to mention that the only two members she could really think of conning into joining her would be Neville Longbottom and Colin Creevey. Both sweet boys improving in their ways, yet not exactly boys Ginny would like to call a "team". She was willing to leave them as friends.

So part two of dissatisfaction now ensues: the lack of proper adventure.

The final, and perhaps the most important point, at least to this particular story, was Ginny's ill luck with relationships. Romantic ones. Sure, she had stared the dating game in her third year, neglecting, of course, her brief date with Neville Longbottom that really had started it all. Yet even though she had started early, she had now become rather bored of the entire prospect.

Sure, Michael Corner had been great while he had lasted. They had had a ton in common such as: Quidditch, Quidditch, and oh yes, Quidditch. Ok, so perhaps it was no surprise that that one hadn't lasted, what with Gryffindor having the better team and all.

So then she had moved onto Dean Thomas. An older guy. He had intrigued her, being an artist and all. And he had had a rather interesting sense of humor. More twisted than sane. Not that he showed this to you right away, you had to know him first. Yet it wasn't his humor that got to her in the end, it was his terrible habits. Like chewing gum like a horse when he thought no one was looking. Or ramble on about nothing in particular to no one in particular. Ok, so he didn't do the last one, but it just didn't work out.

Next had been Justin Finch-Fletchley, who Ginny still couldn't remember why exactly they had started to date. She thinks that he asked her and for some reason she said yes. Either way it had only lasted half a week. Yet after that excessively short boyfriend, there came a longer one than all the rest: Terry Boot. Now this bloke was not only handsome, but funny and witty as well. And he was nice and courteous. Ginny had stayed with him for almost a year. And she had had fun. But that one had ended too with the two of them mutually deciding that things just weren't working out the way they should. They were still friends now, but it wasn't the same.

And now Ginny was alone. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find anyone worth dating in the school. It seemed there was a void of decent guys and she was going to be stuck this way for two whole years. Unless she wanted to date the first years that would be arriving next year. Ich.

So here comes our red head's final dissatisfaction: not being able to find the right guy.

Now you are probably thinking that it's really not that big a deal. I myself tend to agree. Why do you need a guy anyway? And I can tell you this: Ginny felt the same, but the thing was that it was bothering her that there was such a void. Shouldn't there at least be one boy? Perhaps not a perfect boy, but a decent one? Sure, she wouldn't marry him or anything. For really, what's the fun in life if you meet your husband before you even have a chance to live? Just someone she could have fun with. Yet there was no one.

And this was what was really stressing Ginny out.

Sighing, Ginny reached over to the Muggle Music-Player her father, Arthur Weasley, had enchanted for her and turned up the music. Her father had told her that he could only make it play older music, but that was alright with her. She was fonder of the older stuff rather than the new Spice Girl rage that seemed to plague the Muggle stores at home. She was glad to have the sounds of Aerosmith and Golden Earring at her fingertips. Not to mention the hundreds of others who had developed over the years.

The sound increased and pulsed through the large chamber that held the Prefects bathroom.

"I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction," the gruff voice of Mick Jagger sung out. Ginny sighed. She couldn't get any satisfaction out of life herself. Anywhere. "'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try! I can't get no, I can't get no."

The mermaid gave her a disgusted look and disappeared from the frame and into the water. Ginny simply shrugged. How could anyone not like the Stones? That mermaid obviously had no taste in music. And as far as Ginny was concerned that was a crime.

Then it struck her! The reason why she had been so unhappy with the guys she had all dated and the reason she was having such difficulty finding her next one: none of them had the same taste in music as her, or at the very least a similar one. Now that she thought about it, none of the guys she had ever dated liked rock at all. Michael had liked classical, Dean hip-hop, Justin pop and Terry death metal.

"When I'm drivin' in my car, and the man come on the radio," the song continued, and Ginny idly listened to it. That was exactly what she needed, she realized, mentally hitting herself for not thinking of it before. Music was everything and she had plainly ignored it. 'Well no longer,' she thought. 'From now on, I date no guy that doesn't like rock.' "He's tellin' me more and more about some useless information, supposed to fire my imagination. I can't get no. Oh, no, no, no. Hey, hey, hey!"

Ginny probably would have gone on thinking about this new revolution if it had not been for the fact that the door to the bathroom flew open and smashed against the wall. Ginny let out a little shriek and whipped around to face the door, her arms flying to cover her chest, even though the bubbles made it impossible to show anything off if she had even wanted to.

Before she could say anything, whoever had caused the door to open so violently, rushed into the room and jumped into the small swimming pool sized tub and disappeared beneath the massive amount of bubbles. Ginny let out another shriek, suddenly feeling that the tub was a hell of a lot smaller than it had seemed before. She pressed herself against the wall, hearing the door to the bathroom slam shut.

"Who's in here?" she demanded in a weak voice, looking frantically about the bubbles for any sign of the person who had jumped in. Why would anyone want to jump into her bath as though hell was on her, or Merlin forbid his, heels? She had half a mind to get out of the tub, but her towel was not in reaching distance meaning she would have to walk a short distance in nothing at all. Seeing as she didn't know who was in the tub, she wasn't willing to risk it. But then that meant that she was stuck in the tub with the mystery person. Not a better option if you asked her.

"Come out here right now or I'll call-" She was cut off as a hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream but it didn't work, coming out muffled. A second later an arm, obviously the person's own arm, wrapped around her own, making it impossible for her to move.

"Don't make a noise," the person hissed.

Ginny's heart stopped.

It was a guy's voice.

Looking to the Mermaid's frame, Ginny's heart stopped for a second time as she realized that the merwoman was still absent. She silently cursed the Rolling Stones and their music.

Having no savior in sight, she figured there was only herself left. So she began to try and scream, regardless if it was muffled by this attacker or not. Then when that didn't work too well she decided to make some waves, they would make noise. So she started to move, making odd splashing with oddly angled kicks.

"Stop it," the guy hissed. "It's not like I'm going to do anything. I wouldn't be touching you if I knew you wouldn't act like an idiot. I have much better things to touch."

Ginny stopped moving, feeling slightly insulted, though as to why she wasn't sure. Yet there was now a tiny amount of relief flowing through her, easing her fear. So if he wasn't going to "do" anything, then why was he here? Seeing that the only way to get his hand off and find out was to remain quiet. So she did. Actually, she let out an impatient sigh, seeing it as a way to show her distaste.

"When I'm watchin' my TV and a man comes on and tell me, how white my shirts can be," the Music-Player continued to play. Neither of them moved, seeming to listen to the music for a bit. "But, he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke the same cigarettes as me."

"Now," he said after a moment, seeming to be eased by her lack of struggle and perhaps the music. "You just stand there and pretend that I'm not here."

"Muhy uhahl ih?" she mumbled under his hand, glaring once again at the bubbles. She had a feeling they were laughing at her.

"What was that?" he asked, moving his head closer to hers in an apparent attempt to hear her better.

Ginny let out a growl, and felt his hand move away from her face. "I said," she snarled, beginning to feel more angry than scared. Stay standing there like fool, like hell she would. "Why should I?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to stay here longer than I was planning to, Weasley," the guy sneered softly.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she spat, turning her head and glaring at the soaking wet person, covered in sudsy bubbles behind her. "Oh," she said darkly. "A Malfoy. No need to say who you think you are then. I know it's your father."

"Ouch, Weasley," he drawled, dropping his hands away from her. She instantly sank further into the bubbles, so that half her head was hidden. "How long did that one take you to think up? A few weeks?"

"Apparently not, Malfoy," she snarled. "For I said it right away." She glared at him. "Now get out of my bath."

"Well technically it's the school's bathtub," he offered, that bloody smirk playing across his face. Ginny frowned.

She didn't like Malfoy's very much, having good reason considering his father and that diary. Lucius Malfoy's son was no different from his father, or at least, she had never seen any sign of difference, except perhaps in height. As of now, he was still a touch shorter. Probably not too good for the boy's ego. Not that she really cared, even if he had some issues with her brother and his friends at times, what Malfoy said was terrible. Even if his insults were very rarely directed at her, she still didn't like him. "I can't get no. Oh, no, no, no. Hey, hey, hey! That's what I say!" the Mick Jagger continued to sing. "I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction. 'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try! I can't get no, I can't get no!"

"Get out," she hissed, motioning towards the door with her head, refusing to unfold her arms. "Or I'll-"

"Shh!" Malfoy suddenly hissed, cocking his head towards the door. Ginny glared at him, she had never realized how unkempt he looked. His designer robes were a sopping mess and his hair, which was usually slicked back perfectly, was beginning to dry in utter disarray. It seemed all the gel had washed out. Not to mention that he was covered in bubbles. As if seeming to realize this, he blew at some dangling off his nose, still cocking his head towards the door.

"Why?" she demanded, forcing herself to ignore his appearance, even if it was rather entertaining. The guy was not only interrupting her bath, he was in it.

"Someone's coming," he sneered. She listened for a moment. Sure enough it sounded like a heard of elephants was raging towards the bathroom door.

"Who is it?" she demanded, beginning to feel worried again. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped in between a duel while she wasn't even in her knickers. She stood up straighter, bringing her head out of the bubbles, but still nothing could be seen. Malfoy arched an eyebrow at her.

"Who do you think it is?" he sneered. "The only ones in this blasted school who seem to have nothing better to do than chase me around."

"I think it's the other way around," she sneered back, knowing exactly who he was talking about: The Dream Team. They had actually made it into a game to see who could get Malfoy's goat faster. Even Hermione took part, much to the Gryffinodr's surprise. To Ginny the entire ordeal was rather amusing as long as she wasn't involved. She was involved now, however, and it wasn't amusing.

"Just pretend that I'm not here," he said a little more urgently this time. Stooping lower in the water, seeming about to go under.

"Why should I?" she asked. "It's not like you've ever done anything for me, why should I do anything for you?"

"I'll make it worth your while," he insisted, glancing towards the door. Now it was Ginny's turn to arch her eyebrow. Was he really that worried about encountering her brother and the rest of the trio? But why?

"I don-" She was cut off as the door slammed open in a similar fashion as before. Once again she let out a little shriek and Malfoy disappeared beneath the bubbles. She turned and glared as the Dream Team barged into the room.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" she shrieked, figuring she might as well act as though she were surprised. She was beginning to think that perhaps she should just tell her brother where the ferret boy was, but something stopped her. Perhaps it was the pathetic look on her brother's face. Or it could have been something else.

"Wha-" Ron started, going wide eyed. Harry did something similar then turned around quickly. Hermione did the same. "Ginny! What are you doing in here? Where's Malfoy?" he brother demanded.

"I'm taking a bath Ron," she hissed, gesturing towards the bubbles. She was about to say more, but started slightly as she felt arms wrap around her waist. A head was then pressed into the small of her back. Malfoy was obviously getting close to the end of his air supply. 'Good,' she though caustically. 'That will teach him for interrupting my bath.' She paused. 'Or not letting me rat him out.'

Ron looked at her impatiently, unphased by her condition. He then turned and sneered at the Music-Player. Ginny knew that he didn't like her taste in music.

"When I'm ridin' round the world, and I'm doin' this and I'm signin' that. And I'm tryin' to make some girl, who tells me: Baby, better come back maybe next week 'cause you see I'm on a losing streak," the song continued, moving onto its final chorus. "I can't get no. Oh, no, no, no. Hey, hey, hey! That's what I say. I can't get no! I can't get no! I can't get no! Satisfaction. No satisfaction. No satisfaction. No satisfaction!"

"And why would Malfoy be in here?" she continued after a moment, writing it off as listening to the end of the song. "I wouldn't want that slime in here with me." She felt his grip increase, blunted nails digging into her skin. "And I'm listening to the Satisfaction, Ron." At his blank look she continued: "The Rolling Stones?" He still looked stupid. "Just get out of here!" she finally shrieked. Malfoy's grip was beginning to hurt.

"Sorry," he mumbled, then the Dream Team hurried out of the room. Ginny let out a sigh as the door closed for a third time.

She stood there for a moment, then pried the hands around her waist off her and flung them away. A second later, Malfoy burst out off the water, sending bubbles everywhere. Ginny re-crossed her arms and frowned at him.

"You owe me Malfoy," she said, looking at him rather resentfully.

"Oh come one," he sneered, breathing harder than usual. He reached up and brushed his hair out of his face and flung bubbles aside. "You can't tell me that wasn't fun."

Ginny glared harder.

"Just get out of here," she hissed. She was having enough of the whole person-in-her-bath routine, not to mention the fact that it was a Malfoy in her bath.

"No," he said simply, and Ginny took a double take.

"Excuse me?" she scoffed, her voice rising. Perhaps if she screamed loud enough that daft mermaid would come back and save her.

"I said I would make it worth your while," he said just as simply as before.

Ginny opened her mouth to tell him off but never got the chance as Malfoy's lips were on hers.

Ginny's eyes flew wide open. This she hadn't been expecting. She also hadn't been expecting it to feel so good. Nor that she would enjoy the way his hands wound their way around her and drew her closer, making the kiss harsher, more demanding. The way his wet clothes felt against her bare skin. Or that her eyes would slide shut so easily to his touch. Or that she would actually start to kiss him back. Because for all the sense that she had left, and it was rapidly deteriorating, she knew that was exactly what she was doing.

Winding her arms around him, she managed to pull herself even closer, grabbing onto the wet fabric he was covered in. Somewhere in her mind she idly wondered why it was still there. This probably would have scared her, but all that really mattered was the fact that his lips felt so good on hers.

Yet just as things were starting to get interesting, by Ginny's standards at least, he pulled back. Ginny's eyes opened, and she stared at him beginning to feel like some creepy bird that always stared. Or in a closer to home example: Luna Lovegood. He grinned at her.

"Great taste in music, Weasley," he said softly, dislodging her arms from him, and getting quickly out of the tub. With a drying spell and a final glace, the seventh year was gone.

Ginny turned in a daze to her Music-Player.

"Raise a little Hell, raise a little Hell, raise a little Hell," the words of Trooper's Raise a Little Hell sang to her. Apparently Satisfaction had ended. "If you don't like what you got, why don't you change it? If your world is all screwed up, rearrange it."

'Malfoy likes my music,' Ginny thought, sitting down in the tub and continuing her staring at the Music-Player.

Then something slowly came into her mind: 'Malfoy kissed me.'

Could it be that she had found the one perfect guy? Or at least a decent one? Could it be that she had finally found a way to get some satisfaction back into her life? From a Malfoy?

Ginny left her head sink under the water.

The End?

-o-

A/N: Well, there you have it. Not only did I manage to throw in two of Lallie and I's favorite songs, but I have also now joined the bandwagon of using sex in my fics. Well not so much sex as a make-out session, which in the end is pretty much the same deal. Anyhoo, I don't know if I will continue this. I think it's a good enough stand alone as you can make up your own ending in your head. But I do have a few ideas for another chapter or so, but I'm not sure. So you guys tell me what you think, ok? Smash or trash? In Ed the Sock's words of course.