Author's Note: Aah, yes, that special time of year where chocolatiers nearly wet themselves in anticipation and there isn't a live rose ouside of a pink bow-tied bouquet to be seen for miles. Excuse me, I think I feel nausea coming on. Yes, I hate Valentine's Day, but it's the perfect chance (cough-excuse-cough) to write on FanFic. I'm working on Dancing Life, but no one seems interested in it anymore. Even if you can't be bothered to read it, please review and tell me where I went wrong. Thanks. So, long author's note, but I hope you like this, read my others (I've written about, oh, say...12 Valentine's Day fics, but this one I actually liked, especially the ending.), and above all, enjoy.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. There, I said it.
How to Make Snape Scream Like a Girl
Part 1: Snog Malfoy…
"Happy Valentine's Day, Ginny!" Lavender gushed happily, showering the younger red-head with red and pink heart-shaped confetti.
Ginny glanced up from where she was curled up in one of the Gryffindor common room easy chairs and casually blew away the storm cloud of seasonal tidings.
"I suppose." She said nonchalantly, pushing her glasses farther up her nose, which she bent over her Potions homework. How does asphodel affect the internal organs of human beings and list three examples of famous cases regarding the abuse of the magical compound.
Lavender, however, was not put out. "Come on, Ginny, let's go down to breakfast, everyone's going to be down there." She said cheerfully, plopping down on the loveseat next to Ginny. Dean Thomas came over from his group of Quidditch friends and sat down next to her, his arm casually encircling her shoulders.
Ginny glanced up from her paper and looked away hurriedly, fighting not to let the frown she was fostering form on her lips.
Valentine's Day. The most abhorred holiday in Ginny's frame of mind. She absolutely detested the day, and hated anything to do with it. She hated that everyone always seemed happier and more content on Valentine's Day. She hated the unwarranted cheerfulness that surrounded her. But most of all, she loathed herself for wanting to take place in the disgusting cheer.
Sure, she was only in her sixth year, but she really wanted someone to love. Someone to love her. What really pissed her off was that she knew she wouldn't get it, though she never stopped hoping. The hope was what killed her, every year. Watching everyone else go on with their lives, and in their own blissful happiness, while Ginny alone, watched on, singularly bitter and sarcastic.
Harry and Hermione, so happy together. Ron and Luna, so perfect for each other. Lav and Dean, Michael and Padma…hell, even Neville was going out with Hannah Abbot.
Ginny knew because she watched: she was the only single person in Gryffindor above fourth year.
She sighed and turned with a forced smile plastered over her frowning mouth to the expectant Lavender. "Thanks, Lav, but I think I'm going to stay in today. After all, it's Saturday and we don't have any classes. I might go for a walk or go help Professor Sprout on the mandrakes she just got in." even to herself her voice sounded dull and cheerless.
Lavender frowned. "Oh, not again, Gin. You do this every year on Valentine's Day. It's going to be so much fun, you should come down and enjoy it-"
"By myself?" Ginny cut in sharply, not so much posing a question as pointing out a flaw in Lavender's reasonings. Indeed, the older girl flushed and looked down.
"Well, no, I didn't mean by yourself, but you could always go hang out with…um…" she glanced around, but every one left in the common room was already paired up with their boyfriend or girlfriend. She turned back to Ginny.
"Well, you could always hang out with Dean and me." She said, trying to sound excited, though Ginny knew that neither she nor Dean wanted her there.
"It's Dean and I" she corrected "and no thanks, Lav. I'd be a third wheel. Honestly, I'll be fine by myself." She assured her friend, pulling her glasses back over the top of her head so she could see without her hair in her face.
Lavender shot her a pleading look. "Gin…" she began, in a begging tone. Ginny rolled her eyes and slammed her book closed. "All right, all right. If I must, I'll make an appearance." She sighed, standing and stretching out her legs.
Lavender grinned and jumped up. "Oh, good!" she squealed and turned around to slip her arm around Dean's waist. "Come on, then, let's go."
"Hang on, let me put my robes on." Ginny said, reaching down for the black garment slung over the back of her chair. Lavender turned around. "Oh, Gin, please don't wear your robes." She protested.
"Why not?" Ginny asked, though she knew the answer very well. It was a disagreement they had often. "Because you look so lovely when you're not enveloped in that huge sack. And you're wearing such a lovely dress today."
Ginny groaned. "I may have to remove 'lovely' from your vocabulary." She said with a wry smile on her lips. She had to agree with Lavender on one thing; her dress was 'lovely'. A pale mint green sundress that swirled around her shapely legs at the knees, it accentuated her slightly curvy body perfectly.
"All right." She consented, tossing the robe back into the chair. Lavender beamed happily as the three of them made their way down to the Great Hall. Ginny entered behind Dean and Lavender and felt immediately like turning around and throwing up.
Remembering she hadn't eaten yet, and therefore had nothing to divest her stomach of, she decided to save any sick-making for later. Instead she sucked up her courage and marched bravely through the pink and red decorated room.
Sitting down at the Gryffindor table between Lavender and Harry, Ginny cast a glance up to the head table. McGonagall and Snape were looking perfectly revolted, while Dumbledore merely chuckled merrily whilst bombarding the sallow Potions professor with tiny red hearts that sprinkled kisses on him.
Ginny stifled a laugh and sat down. With the movement, her glasses fell down to the tip of her nose and her hair fell in front of her face. Grumbling, she turned to Lavender. "Lav, can I borrow a hair tie? Mine won't stay up." With an envious sigh, Lavender pulled a rubber hair tie from her wrist and handed it to Ginny.
Ginny placed her mass of auburn hair into a loose bun, with several strands cascading down her back. Replacing her wire-rimmed glasses that made her look so mature, she turned to Lavender.
"What?" she asked, seeing the jealous look on her friend's face.
Lavender shook her head. She loved Ginny, but when it came to her own appearance, the girl was clueless. So were many guys, for that fact. Ginny was simply way out of their league. She was of medium height with enough curves to be called womanly. She was far beyond the other, rail-thin girls.
Shaking her head, Ginny turned back to her food. She was more or less content just eating her cereal and drowning out the sweet-heart's chatter around her until the Rose-Drops started coming around.
One of the more intelligent Ravenclaws who had graduated the previous year had invented them in her spare time, which in a place like Hogwarts, was a fictional thing.
In the month before Valentine's Day, Hagrid would grow roses of four colors: yellow, white, pink, and red. Each, when charmed, had its own special 'meaning', and could be bought to give to your special 'someone'. The yellows were charmed to give the receiver a hug, the whites gave a peck on the forehead, the pinks planted kisses on the cheek, and the reds gave a real kiss on the lips.
So, in turn, each one had a certain level. Yellows were friendship, whites were companionship with a hint of something more, pinks were crushes or infatuations, and reds were deep, romantic love. The reds also cost the most.
Ginny watched as every single girl in the Great Hall received a flower, noticing with almost malevolent satisfaction that no one got a red rose. Hermione blushed prettily as her rose leaned forward and touched her cheek. Lavender laughed and gave Dean a matching kiss on his cheek.
There were many, many pinks, several whites, a couple of yellow extras, and no reds. Ginny grimaced as the delivery elf placed a yellow rose on her plate. Harry turned to her and smiled sheepishly at his rose.
Ginny smiled back just to avoid from rolling her eyes. Typical male. Harry would never get that she had been so head-over-heels for him. Not that she was any more. When they became friends, the obsession had soon worn off, and she was completely happy for him and Hermione.
Ginny glanced around to see who had gotten what kind of roses. The last elf tentatively placed a white rose in front of Millicent Bullstrode before hurrying off, basket empty. Ginny had never felt so idiotic. She was the only person to get just a yellow rose. From a friend, to save her from embarrassment.
Feeling out of place, she stood, preparing to leave. Leaning down to tie up her tall brown dragon-hide boots, she didn't at first notice that the entire hall had gone quiet, save for a few excited whispers.
"Uh, Gin?" She heard Lavender whisper. Ginny glanced up at her friend, then realized there was someone standing in front of her. Turning, her heart managed to do about four flip-flops before sinking somewhere in her stomach.
Standing in front of her with an empty basket was the last house-elf, a velvety red rose in his outstretched hand. Ginny looked to either side of her, positive it had to be for Harry or Lavender. There was no one who would want to give her a red rose.
Harry shook his head, and Lavender just stared at her dumbly. The elf cleared his throat. "Miss Ginevra Weasley?" he said hesitantly. Ginny nodded mutely and the elf thrust out his hand even further.
Feeling extremely confused and muddled, Ginny reached out and grasped the rose lightly. The elf bowed, eyes twinkling, and walked off. Ginny stared at the odd and unexpected gift before glancing up.
"Lav, who…?" she stopped, unable to speak, and also because her rose was bending forward insistently. She turned with frightened eyes to Lavender, who just grinned, stunned and nodded. "Go ahead." She said.
Ginny turned back to the rose, barely inches from her lips, feeling all the eyes in the Great Hall on her. In seconds that ticked by like those spent listening to Ron go on and on about the Cannons, Ginny stared in quiet uncertainty at the gleaming red rose, straining in her hand.
Finally, she sighed, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "Oh, what the hell." She mumbled, pressing her lips to the rose's soft and dewy petals. Warmth and pleasure enveloped her as she actually felt someone's lips on hers, kissing her gently and yet passionately. It was like nothing Ginny had ever even dreamed of.
When the magic had done its spell, the rose bent back to its original pose, looking deceptively innocent and gorgeous. Ginny could feel the red flush spreading across her cheeks, now horribly embarrassed in front of all the people in the hall.
It was still deathly quiet until someone from the Slytherin table laughed. "Well, Weasley's finally found something with the courage to kiss her. To bad it's not human, though." Ginny bristled as she heard the familiar voice of Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin seventh year who seemed to hate her almost as much as Draco Malfoy did.
Speaking of the slimy git, she hadn't heard a peep from him yet…
"Yeah, well, I don't think that the level of insanity for anything alive and with a pulse to actually kiss Weasley is possible. Unless it was some cruel, vicious joke." Ah, there he was, the delightful ferret of a bastard…
Ginny stood suddenly, fuming. There was a hint of guilt in Draco's voice that betrayed him. She knew now who had sent her the rose. And she had been stupid enough to accept the kiss. Knowing that the delightful gesture had come from an arse like Draco Malfoy made it twice as unbearable.
Turning around, rose still in hand, Ginny stormed ferociously over to the Slytherin table, her eyes crackling dangerously behind her glasses. Had she known how absolutely dynamite she looked at that moment, she would have gone for a different, more threatening pose…like one that involved a wand or a Beater's club, or perhaps a sword…
She stomped around to the side of the table where Draco was sitting, staring smugly at her. "Ah, come to get a real kiss, have you Weasley?" he smirked. Ginny's eyes blazed up with red-hot fury. Instead of allowing her twitching fingers to wrap themselves around the cheeky bugger's neck, she clenched them at her sides and gave him her sweetest smile.
"Why, Draco Malfoy, are you suggesting you wouldn't mind kissing a Weasley?" she said flirtatiously, stepping coyly closer, and her hand moving "involuntarily" (as she later explained to Hermione) towards his goblet of pumpkin juice.
For a moment, real surprise echoed on his face. He quickly covered it up, however. "Why, if it's from one as pretty as you, I suppose the contamination would be tolerable." He said arrogantly.
Ginny had had quite enough. "Well, then, Mr. Malfoy…" she leaned in, shocked to see him actually close his eyes expectantly. He'd already humiliated her once today with a kiss. Not again. Ginny reached out and grabbed the full pitcher of pumpkin juice maliciously.
"…Happy Valentine's Day." She whispered, dumping the entire contents of the pitcher on Draco's stupid, big, blonde head. With some satisfaction, she set down the pitcher as he spluttered indignantly, wiping pumpkin juice off his face amid much laughter from the other three tables.
Pressing two fingers to her lips, she tapped them smartly on his cheek. He looked up at her and Ginny prepared herself for angry, furious words about her, her family, their financial situation, her house, her clothes, anything.
Instead, her jaw dropped open. Flashing for a minute in those hard grey eyes was a soft, almost hurt expression she hadn't meant to put there. It surprised her to see how much she cared about it, and somehow the satisfaction was growing less and less victorious.
Blasie Zabini stood angrily. "You stupid slut, what the hell do you think you're doing? You stupid lazy cow. You're not fit enough to clean his toilet, you-"
Several of his house mates (seeing Ginny's enraged glare) had tried to force him to shut up. However, Ginny's hand did the trick most effectively. The slap reverberated across the Hall, and Ginny knew she was in trouble for that one. But she didn't care. Before Snape or someone came down to take points, she would get in a few last words.
"Shut your trap, Zabini! You, too, Malfoy. If I ever hear either one of you even sound like you're talking about me, you'll find yourself in the hospital wing faster than you can count the spots you'll be seeing." She warned, and before turned around and running from the room, she flung the rose into Draco's lap.
"Happy Fucking Valentine's Day!" she hissed, and was gone.
McGonagall ran out after her, but as soon as she got outside the Great Hall, she noticed a distinctly noticeable deficiency of Weasley in the hallways. She gave the area a quick, negligent glance, and turned back to the Great Hall with a smile.
Her Valentine's Day had just improved dramatically.
Ginny had fled the Great Hall with a ferocious speed, tearing down the hallways. Having nowhere else to go, she went where she always went when she had troubles or free time: Professor Sprout's greenhouse.
It wasn't until she was standing outside the greenhouse itself that she realized Sprout had been in the Great Hall, and therefore, would not be in the greenhouse. Ginny felt tears prickling at her eyes, and she went around to the other side of the greenhouse, where there was a secret stone bench.
Ginny stopped abruptly when she saw that she was not alone. Standing next to the bench, pruning some wild ivy, was none other than Professor Sprout herself.
"Professor!" Ginny gasped. The older witch turned to her and smiled. "Ah, yes, Weasley dear. I thought you might come here." She said knowingly. Ginny's jaw was still open. "But, how did you- I mean, how- but you- how- I thought you were in the Great Hall…weren't you?" she asked, confused, falling onto the bench.
Professor Sprout clipped one last branch off the vine. "There." She said, pleased, before turning to Ginny. "My dear, I have been at this school longer than you have. I have certain ways of getting around quickly, if you know what I mean." No one had said anything about secret passageways, but Ginny nodded understandingly, tears leaking from her eyes. Professor Sprout clicked her tongue sympathetically.
"Oh there, there." She muttered soothingly, plopping down heavily next to Ginny (who was now sobbing gently) and embracing the girl warmly. She sat there for several minutes, rocking the girl back and forth. They were interrupted by the loud snap of a twig nearby.
Ginny's tear-streaked face lifted, but she saw no one there. Turning to Professor Sprout, she smiled weakly, wiping her eyes. "I know I'm silly to cry, but-" Sprout cut her of. "Nonsense. Those boys were downright rude." Her gaze softened, recalling a scene from what later became known as 'The Great Hall Episode'. "Although that one, Malfoy. I wouldn't be too hard on him."
Ginny scoffed derisively. "No disrespect or anything, Professor, but I cannot stand that boy. He is perfectly evil." She choked. Sprout shook her head softly. "No, dear. I just think he's confused." ("I'll buy that." Ginny snapped) "After you left, well…he looked…a bit guilty." How could she say that he looked hurt and disappointed when this girl was so adamantly opposed to him?
Ginny stood angrily. "Well, he should be guilty. I'm surprised after all the things he's said about me and my family, he's even capable of guilt or feeling."
Sprout sighed heavily and stood. "Just think it over, and don't do him too much bodily injury, dear. He has a test to take for me on Monday." She cracked. Ginny smiled weakly as the older witch left.
Once Sprout was gone, Ginny turned around and collapsed to her knees in front of the bench, letting her head rest on her arms folded on the stone seat. The heart-felt sobs that she had held back now poured forth so fast, she found herself reduced to sniffles and hiccups.
And then, there was a hand on her almost bare back, rubbing it gently and soothingly. She heard someone over her whisper "shh…" softly in her ear. She supposed it had to be either one of the Dream Team, or Lavender.
Trying to hold back the tears proved difficult, and her slim shoulders shook with the effort. She finally sat up, not bothering to see who it was, and put her face in her hands. The person on the bench sunk to their knees and wrapped her in a soft, protective hug.
Ginny leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the person's slim waist (probably Lavender or Hermione) and buried her face in their robes, marveling at how much more soothing it was crying into someone's robes.
Their soft, silky robes.
Their soft, silky robes that smelled of mint aftershave and traces of pumpkin juice.
Ginny's eyes flicked open. She sat back quickly, or at least, as far as the person who was holding her would let her go. Her shocked eyes were staring into the remorseful grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.
Her eyes widened, and she began to struggle in his surprisingly strong arms. "Let go of me, Malfoy!" she shrieked. Draco merely pulled her closer, against him, trying to calm her again. "Let me go!" she yelled again, squirming against his chest.
"Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." He said, struggling to hold onto her.
Ginny's eyes blazed. "Like hell you're not! You're going to let me go and then run away as far from me as possible in hopes I won't track you down and kill you!" she gasped as he held her yet tighter.
"Would you calm down?" Draco's exasperated voice sounded above her head.
Ginny wasn't listening, she was beyond negotiation now. "Let me go this instant, or I'm scream so loud you'll wish you never even laid eyes on me!" she fumed.
Draco shook her gently, enough to make her look at him, he seriously shook his head. "I would never wish that." He whispered softly, sending a shiver down Ginny's spine. Grasping her shoulders tightly (but not roughly), he pressed his lips to hers gently. It worked like a charm. Ginny stopped moving completely, except to let her eyes close slowly.
For some reason, he seemed less of a bastard now, when he was kissing her so sweetly, and holding her so gently. She felt treasured, and though she knew she should be thinking about how wrong it was, or how much she hated him, all her mind could process was: Gods, this is lovely. Lovely lovely lovely.
Draco finally pulled away, reluctantly, his eyes glazed over, and the most peaceful expression of tranquility on his face. Ginny's eyes fluttered open, and searched his for an answer.
He grinned slyly, a strand of silver-blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. Ginny was struck, then, as she tenderly pushed aside the strand, by just how interesting his features were. Fine and aristocratic, he would never be handsome, but he was in his own way attractive, in an intriguing, mysterious, kind of way.
Draco again grinned smugly. "Well, now that you're somewhat less agitated, would you care to carry on a conversation?' he asked conceitedly.
Ginny rolled her eyes. Along with the regained use of her vocal chords came her sense of sarcasm. "What, with a Malfoy? Hold the Daily Prophet headlines, this could be the story of the century: Malfoy and Weasley talk civilly. Sounds a bit fantastic, don't you think?" she asked wryly.
Draco grinned. Ginny was shocked to feel her heart to flip-flops again. Shoving aside thoughts that mainly consisted of how lovely that kiss had been, Ginny frowned, pushing away from him.
"Well, you can start off by explaining that whole Rose-Drop ordeal this morning." Draco's eyes clouded over. "Ah, yes, I was wondering when we'd get to that." He mused, looking thoughtful. "Well, I know you won't believe it, but I actually think you're rather, well…interesting." He said, to prevent himself from speaking totally of her beauty and character. Ginny arched an eyebrow. "Un-huh." She said, cynicism heavy in her tone.
Draco nodded honestly. "You, ah, look. I've never been great with feelings and words or girls, or any of that shit. I also know that I haven't exactly been the nicest to you or your brother. And I know that you don't probably feel a fraction of what I feel for you. All I know is that for the past year, you're the only girl I've been able to think about. I couldn't get you out of my mind." He sighed and shook his head, regretting his own stupidity.
"At first I just convinced myself that I hated you and you were inferior because you were a Weasley. But, I grew up being taught to lie to everyone but myself. So I finally decided that a) I was stupid and b)I was attracted to you. But after that, I just didn't know how to approach you. You're always so composed and strong and sure of yourself. And- and you're damned pretty, too." He stammered, glancing down and biting his tied tongue.
Ginny also glanced down, blushing prettily. Draco continued. "That's when I hit on the rose thing. I sent you the red rose, though I think you figured that out," he pulled the battered rose from his robes and Ginny flushed "although I added a few improvements." He grinned roguishly again. "It was my kiss the rose delivered. I wanted to see if you liked it…in case you'd ever let me do it again." Ginny flamed, if possible, an even darker shade of red.
Draco allowed himself a smile as Ginny stammered. "Well, I – you, I mean, I did like it…very much…" suddenly she seemed to regain her composure, and lost all signs of nervousness. She eyes Draco with such content certainty that he longed to kiss her again.
"I actually liked it very much. Very, very much." She said shyly, leaning forward. "and I was wondering if you'd be interested in doing this more often, in the future?" she grinned shyly. Draco nodded dumbly, wondering how a girl like her could possibly be so shy around boys. A smile lit up her face. Draco could only take so much.
He wrapped a hand behind her neck, cupping her head and pulling her to him. Their lips meshed together and this time Draco wasn't so gentle. He kissed her long and passionately, so that Ginny was glad she was already on her weak knees. His tongue darted between her soft lips and she gasped.
Her hands came up to his neck, where they moved restlessly. He groaned and pulled her flat against him, one arm holding her to him and the other losing itself in her bright red hair. Ginny moaned softly, the sound coming out like a breathless gasp, feminine and maddening. Draco pulled her even closer, wrapping himself around her like a python.
Her tongue timidly explored the inside of his mouth, running over his teeth, and gently touching the tip of it to his tongue. Draco pushed it aside and nipped at her lower lip playfully, bringing more of those little half-gasps from her.
Ginny finally broke away for want of air. Her heart was thudding painfully as she touched her swollen lips tenderly. Draco planted his lips along her collarbone and up her neck to his jaw line and back to her mouth again.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Ginevra Weasley." he murmured against the warm skin of her lips. Ginny smiled against his lips. "You know what?" she purred against his mouth, her tongue flicking out to touch his lips. "What?" he asked, his face burying into her shoulder, trailing kisses along her neck.
She brought his face back up to hers, their eyes locking for a second before their lips followed suit. "It really is." Ginny whispered, and said no more for a while as he covered her mouth with his lips.
As the two teens kneeled, kissing desperately, yet sweetly in the ivy garden, Professor Sprout was walking jauntily back up to the castle, whistling off-key. A smile was on her face as she cast a glance over her shoulder at the pair, still joined together as their scene disappeared around the back of the greenhouse with her forward movement.
She turned back to the castle and did a little half-skip merrily. She came to a halt as Snape passed by her, gave her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes one disgusted look, and went on his way, patrolling the grounds near the greenhouse.
Sprout bit back her laughter as she stood waiting for the shocked screams and heart failure bound to come if the greasy Potions master continued around to the other side of the greenhouse.
Hearing footsteps, she turned around to see McGonagall coming down the path, an eyebrow arched as she watched Snape snoop around the side of the greenhouse. Sprout grinning. "Hullo, Minerva. Fancy a Valentine's Day bet? Ten sickles says Snape screams like a girl."
McGonagall arched her other eyebrow as Snape disappeared around the side of the greenhouse. "Sure, why not?" she asked, just before a genuinely surprised, high-pitched squeal that could have shattered glass rose from the other side of the greenhouse. "AH! MALFOY! WEASLEY! YOU…AND YOU….AHHHH!" The voice continued, growing higher and higher in pitch.
McGonagall's jaw dropped most unladylike and her eyes bugged out disbelievingly. "Please tell me that was either Weasley or one of your mandrakes." She pleaded numbly as Snape hurried around the greenhouse again, looking violently sick and clutching a hand over his mouth.
Sprout gave a hearty laugh and continued on, careful to get out of speeding Snape's way. "I'll expect ten sickles by Monday, Minerva." Was all the older witch said joyfully, skipping down the path and bouncing with a merry chuckle every few moments.