Disclaimer:Sadly, I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter. I wish. Draco Malfoy is quite tasty.. -licks lips-
And on with the story!
Love, With a Spoonful of Milk and Way Too Much Sugar
By: Brinkixsh
Chapter One
"Mmm, Draco," Pansy wrapped her arms around the thick white comforter and snuggled closer from lack of warmth, as her previous source was leaning against her doorframe, white blonde-hair glowing with the orange-red morning sunlight that was beginning to creep over the horizon and into the Parkinson's second story west-wing window, light gray eyes brooding under thick eyebrows and watching the blonde-haired witch with disgust.
He was clothed, of course: he had dressed quickly and was just on the way out the door when he turned his head and looked back. In hastiness, his white dress shirt was not buttoned up all the way and his gray slacks were a bit wrinkled, but those were all covered by a pitch-black silk robe. A lazy expression fitted his face and with complete casualty was he leaning against his last shag's doorframe, hardly the kind of manner someone would have after running away in the early morning after a night together. But this was a different case. It was pretty much okay after the, oh dear, had he lost count? Oh, right. Twenty-second time that summer.
He snorted softly to himself. Parkinson was such a slut. If he ever needed a good shag, all he had to do was owl the girl, spend a few Sickles in a bar in Hogsmaede, and was satisfied with some kind-of-okay, pointles sex that kept him going for a few nights. Truth be told, she wasn't the greatest in bed, but she would have to do compared to the other whores he had gone through.
The summer had been the most mindless and dull summers of all. The previous year, the oh-so-spectacular Boy-Who-Lived had finally defeated the Dark Lord, which, in Draco Malfoy's eyes, the only useful thing the boy had ever done in his entire life. Quite contrary to popular belief, Draco was unlike his father in his ideals towards the Dark Lord. Lucius had been caught shortly after the Dark Lord was killed, and sentenced a life-long term in Azkaban, for the second time, at the end of his sixth year. Draco had not, much to the Golden Trio's protests.
Instead, Draco and his mother had spent their very first summer in the Malfoy Manor without Lucius, and expected it to be the best of summers of all. He turned out to be quite wrong, though. Narcissa had retreated to her room many a day while Draco moped around until he got bored, and spent his nights at different girls' houses every night.
As if it were hard. Draco smirked to himself. With his Malfoy charms, he could get any girl he wanted. His smirk alone, he knew, was enough to make any straight girl swoon. He had been with so many girls that he knew exactly how to play things in order to get what he wanted. It was simple: the perfect gentleman all through a very extravagant dinner, while flattering her with compliments and light flirting, ordering expensive and exquisite wine, showering her with pretty gifts, taking her home, and upstairs, and in her bedroom, and...
He was just too good at it. With all modesty, he believed that he had never tripped, stuttered, looked bewildered, look taken back, be surprised, been speechless, not have a good comeback, or even smiled, for that matter. After all, he was a Malfoy, and he supposed he must have inherited the Malfoy charms. Lucius had it: how else had he gotten a pretty woman like his mother to marry him, a slimy git?
Draco shuddered at the thought.
The summer had not been fantastic at all. In fact, he was quite glad that shortly after he arrived back at the Malfoy Manor, he would be sent to King's Cross and on board the Hogwarts Express in just a few hours. Despite the fact that the whole school was run by a bunch of nutcase Mudblood-lovers, he could occupy himself with studying because, after all, he was one of the top students in his year. Besides, there was a bigger variety of girls to sleep with there; Parkinson was getting boring. And frightening. Last night, somewhere between the midst of the blankets, he had heard her whisper lowly"I love you, Draco."
Draco inwardly shivered. Like he could ever like.. much less love.. an ugly, overused slut like Parkinson.
He doubted that he would ever love anybody, anyways. Malfoys didn't fall in love. Yes, maybe he would find a girl to bear a son, just for the sake of continuing the Malfoy family tree, but he would most defenitely never love her. Loving was just too dangerous. It was just a sappy, made-up fairy tale that happened only in those books his mother used to read him when he was little.
Anyways, with his Malfoy charms, it was impossible to fall in love, because they were too busy falling in love with him, and all he had to do is watch and smirk at himself without ever having to know anything about the girl past her name. You can't fall in love with somebody unless you actualy get to know them, right?
Retreating from Pansy's bedrooms and strolling down the hallway and into the drawing room, which he had grown quite familiar to, he slipped a small pouch of powder out of his pocket, tossed a bit of it into the fireplace, and called out "Malfoy Manor" before disappearing with a swish into the green flames.
-break-
Ginevra Molly Weasley, youngest and only daughter of the Weasley family, glared at her brother.
And Ronald glared back.
She sighed, blowing air through the small part in her pale pink lips. "We're not going through this again."
"Yes, we are," Ron demanded. "What did I tell you about wearing.." He jabbed an accusing finger towards her outfit. "...that in public"
She flashed a sly smile and twirled around, throwing her hands up in the air and posing for him. "You don't like it?" She pouted, biting her lip innocently.
Ron's faced turned an ugly shade of purple-red, ears bright as ever and his eyes growing smaller. What summer could do to people! What would Harry and Hermione.. Not just them. What would the whole school think of her now? Her twirling in that stupid outfit, looking like some kind of common slut! Just the school year before, she was as sweet and nice as ever... Hardly noticable, bright and conservative... Though the whole Michael Corner and Dean Thomas thing was a bit out of the question... Two months later, he was arguing with her - Imagine that! Ginny talking back- over a very revealing, very sluttish outfit that she just happened to be wearing the day before they were to leave for the Hogwarts Express. What had gone wrong? He never would expected that.
Ginny giggled. "Purple doesn't go good with the freckles, dear brother." She skipped out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving Ron fuming.
"You better be going back upstairs to change!" he bellowed after her. Harry came strolling into the kitchen, with a quick smile to Ginny as he passed by.
"Where's Hermione?" he asked wearily, plopping down onto one of the squeaky chairs, pulled a glass of orange juice towards him, and began gulping it down.
"She's coming," Harry replied absentmindedly, going straight for the plate of pancakes.
-break-
Ginny sighed, staring at herself in the mirror. Her brother was such a git! Couldn't he leave her alone for one second? Besides, the outfit she was wearing wasn't that bad... Compared some of the rest of the things stowed away in her truck, packed and ready for Hogwarts. She smirked.
A sleeveless, strapless halter top, stitched together in different shades of dark green went well with her body. She supposed she wasn't beautiful, but she had grown in, er, certain places that she thought suited her quite well (Although Ron disagreed). A knee-length white, ruffled skirt showed off her slender legs, built from her summer-long Quidditch practice. A dark green scarf was tied around her waist.
Her hair - no longer the bright, cheerful red that she hated so much - had turned a dark color, almost bright, but with an unmistakable hue of red that proved her a Weasley. It was layered and cut into waves that fell over her shoulders, splashed with a light array of freckles. Diamond earrings, a gift for getting prefect this year, matched the necklace that Harry had given her on their second date in the middle of August.
Fingering the necklace, she paused, staring at the mirror. Harry was going out with her, but for some reason... For years she had adored Harry with every bit of her heart, and longed to be with him, and when Hermione and him had come to visit for the rest of summer in early August, her wish came true.
In her fourth year, although she had been quite taken with Harry in the past, she had thought that she was getting over him... And she had. She went out with a few gits, true, and completely forgotten about her old beloved crush. However, when Harry and Hermione had come, he seemed almost as taken with her as she had used to be with him.
She was going downstairs because she had forgotten an old spellbook that she needed for some old History of Magic homework.. Damn Professor Binns. Tip-toeing as quietly as she could, dressed in nothing but a plain white T-shirt, as she suspected nobody would be awake due to the fact it was one in the morning, she was suprised to find walk into the living room to find Ron and Harry shouting at each other.
Ginny was even more surprised when she heard her brother, who had not yet noticed her, yell something quite unexpected and unbelievable.
"What do you mean you like my sister?"
Of course, Ginny gasped out loud, and both Harry and Ron turned around and turned bright red: Harry blushing for obvious reasons, and Ron because she had heard and she was dressed in only a T-shirt.
The next day, Harry knocked on her door and asked her out, and since she had broken up with Dean Thomas shortly after the summer began, she had accepted.
Now, everyone would have thought that little Ginny Weasley would have been ecastic for the famous Harry Potter to ask her out, and she thought so too. After all, she had been smitten with him for over three years.
But she wasn't.
He was as normal and even sometimes worse than any other boy, just like Dean Thomas and Michael Corner. He had those annoying habits, he was as blunt as ever, he hung out with Hermione, in her opinion, way too often... She began to realize why Cho hated him so...
Frowning at herself at the mirror, she shook her head. Why was she thinking like that? She adored Harry! She had been waiting for this for since she had arrived at Hogwarts. Well, she supposed there was a bit of a break into between, because she didn't really like him in her fourth and fifth year, but never mind. And now she had it. He was perfect. Truly perfect.
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she raked her hand through her hair, applied a little bit of lipgloss, and called out an "Accio Trunk!" before bounding downstairs.
Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed it! Now.. Be a darling and review.
Brinkixsh