Disclaimer: None of the characters in this piece of literature are mine, they all belong to J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them for a bit. I'm also making zero cash off of this, more the pity.

A/N: Hello all. This is the first Draco/Ginny fic I've written so the characters may be a little off, but I tried to stick as close to the originals as I could. Don't let the chapter title alarm you, Draco isn't going to be a warm fuzzy bunny in this story. There will be plenty of snark from both parties, have no fear. More chapters are on their way, but pretty, pretty please comment on this one, I love having feedback! Thanks to everyone.

Chapter One

The White Knight

It was the atmosphere of the club that she loved the most. The lights, the music, the food, it was all well and good, but it was the raw, pounding, intoxicating feeling of the place that drew Ginny Weasley there.

It had been easy enough to sneak out. She wasn't the younger sister of Fred and George for nothing. One word to her brothers, and she had had Muggle money, a bus ticket, and a fake Muggle ID in her hands within the hour. Ah, the wonders of blackmail…

It helped that, for some reason, people always assumed that she was older then sixteen. She wasn't sure what exactly it was about her appearance, but no one questioned the lying piece of plastic that said she was eighteen. Ginny had often pondered the mystery, staring into the mirror for hours, but tonight she was just grateful that she was able to gain access to her sanctuary.

Because it was a haven for her. Here, she wasn't under the watchful eye of either her mother or Ron (who was far too overprotective). Here, she wasn't "just another Weasley", or the baby of the family, always coddled and smothered and doted on.

Don't take this the wrong way, for Ginny loved her family very, very much. She was infinitely loyal to them and insanely proud to be able to bear the name of Weasley. But sometimes everything just got too much.

She felt stifled, surrounded by too much pressure to be the perfect daughter; not an adventurer like Bill and Charlie, not irresponsible like Fred and George, not a prat like Percy, not constantly getting into danger like Ron. No, she had to be the good child.

And she had been. She had tried. She hadn't made waves, she'd kept her head down (mostly) and her grades up, and above all she had kept a respectable reputation for herself.

But Ginny Weasley was tired of being the good child.

And so she had made her way to the clubs. It was easy to sneak out of the house. Fred and George had been doing it for years and Mum was none the wiser. One short bus ride later and she was in the city. It wasn't a huge city, but it was big enough that it had a decent club.

It was a respectable enough joint. There weren't drug dealers in every corner (only the one near the males' lavatory) and the number of creepers was at a minimum (usually only one per every twenty feet or so). The music was pretty good and they even had an authentic DJ, not just the owner's destitute cousin-in-law. But most importantly, it had that vibe to it, the one that Ginny loved, the one that freed her of all the expectations of her family and just let her be her.

It was on her fifth visit that things got interesting. Ginny sat at the bar, sipping on some soda and watching the crowd of dancers. One of the guys was looking back at her intently, running his eyes suggestively over the tight black tank top and the black jeans tucked in knee-high leather boots that she was wearing.

Ginny smiled to herself, absently stirring her drink with her straw while she thought of what her mother would say if she saw her dressed like this. The image was sure to strike fear into the heart of any weaker being, but Ginny simply found it amusing. What her mother didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Someone flopped down in the seat next to her, knocking into her shoulder and almost causing her to fall out of her chair, not mention putting the stability of her drink in peril.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, turning towards the perpetrator with the intention of telling him (given the muscle content of the shoulder that had slammed into her, it had to be a guy, or a very butch woman) exactly what she thought of his rudeness, but she was struck dumb at the sight of him.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Draco Malfoy asked nastily, clearly as surprised as Ginny was, but immediately taking the offensive. "Shouldn't you be at that hovel you call a house with your dear mummy?"

"I could ask you the same question, Malfoy," Ginny shot back, quickly recovering her voice, spurred on by the blonde's infuriating sneer. "What the bloody hell are you doing in a Muggle club in the wee hours of the night?"

"I'm dancing," Malfoy replied loftily, looking down his nose at her disdainfully. "It's what one does at a club. Even you should know that, Weaselette." Ginny could tell that she was rapidly turning the same shade as her hair and that her restraint on her temper would only hold for so much longer.

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," Ginny snapped, getting up and walking towards the guy who had been eyeing her earlier, seething. Of all the people she could have run into in this place, why did it have to be him, her family's mortal enemy?

Draco watched the youngest Weasley get out of her chair and stride off in the direction of the dance floor, her face a shade of red that could rival her hair. He had to admit, her ass looked very nice in those pants.

He smirked, imagining what she would do if she knew he was looking at her ass. Something violent, no doubt. But she should know better then to come to a place like this dressed like that, unless she wanted groped by every passing guy, and potentially some girls too. But obviously she didn't think of that. Naive imbecile, thought the world was all puppies and sunshine. She had no idea about the amount of sexual depravity and posturing that went on in places like this…

Draco raised his eyebrows. Weasley had just made her way over to a tall, muscular guy and had a hand on his arm, smiling flirtatiously as she said something. Whatever it was, the guy certainly agreed with it, because the pair started dancing to the music.

It wasn't the flirting that has surprised the young Malfoy (though that was interesting enough coming from the usually unconcerned Weaselette). It was the dancing. He was vaguely shocked at the way that she danced. He'd had no idea she could move like that. She rubbed against her partner like a cat, sinuously stretching and arching her body in ways that would make any man go crazy.

And it was certainly having that effect on her partner. He ran his hands all over her body, roughly rubbing her and pressing her back against him. It was enough to make Draco want to vomit. Had the man never heard of finesse? It was not the nature of the man's actions that offended him (Merlin knew he had certainly done his fair share of groping), but it was the lewdness of them. As a member of the male gender, Draco demanded that all carriers of the Y chromosome show just a tiny bit of grace when it came to women, if only to show themselves as the superior sex.

The spectacle continued for several more moments. Now the idiot was slobbering on her neck. It made Draco want to go over and slap the imbecile, then tell him to get a grip on himself and remember his dignity.

It seemed the Weasel was of the same mind. Stepping away from him, she turned and smiled, saying something which was probably nice and sweet so as not to hurt his feelings. The guy's face (and probably another portion of his anatomy) fell and he began to plead with her, obviously trying to get her to continue dancing with him. Draco could just imagine the wheedling tone that the guy was using and it annoyed him to no end. Where was this guy's pride?

Weasley spoke again, obviously still trying not to hurt this guy's feelings. She looked at him almost with pity and seemed to be about to give into the idiot's pleading. That was the last straw for Draco.

Sliding out of his chair, he strode across the space between him and the pair purposefully, shouldering aside the people that got in his way and ignoring the resulting insults being hurled in his direction.

"Hey, hun," Draco said, smoothly wrapping an arm around the Weasel's waist. "Sorry to run off, a friend needed me. I hope you didn't miss me too much."

The look that the redhead gave him was worth the effort. It was a combination of shock, confusion, and fury. She made to pull away from him, but Draco kept his arm wrapped around her tightly.

"Who are you?" the guy asked aggressively, glaring at Draco and taking a menacing step forward.

"Me? Oh, I'm a friend from school," Draco said smoothly, cutting across Weasley's spluttering easily and smiling. "Who are you?"

"I'm her dance partner," the guy snarled, seemingly taking the mocking smile as a threat. "So why don't you just bugger off and find some other bird to chase?"

"Excuse me," Weasley said, glaring at the guy, momentarily forgetting the fact that Draco still hadn't removed his arm from around her waist. "But I will decide who I dance with and when."

"So run along," Draco couldn't resist adding, smirking at the other male as he was subjected to the infamous Weaselette glare. The guy was lucky that his face wasn't covered in flying boogies.

The guy swelled up like a bull frog, but something in Draco's steely gaze made him stop. Taking one last look at the Weaselette's breasts (which were quite enticing up close), the other male stormed off, no doubt going in search of some slag who would suck him off in the bathroom. Draco grinned, pleased with himself.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ginny demanded, turning and looking at Malfoy, who had a very smug look on his face, with incredulity.

"I noticed that you seemed to be having trouble getting rid of that idiot," Malfoy said coolly, shrugging his shoulders.

"And so you decided to, what, ride to my rescue like some white knight?" she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow at the smirking blonde.

"Sir Lancelot, at your service," Malfoy replied cheekily, bowing elegantly to Ginny, who rolled her eyes.

"Lancelot wasn't a white knight. For Merlin's sake, he had an affair with his best friend's wife!" she couldn't resist saying (the King Arthur legends were an obsession of hers), even though she knew she was opening herself up to mocking.

"I know," Malfoy replied, smiling wickedly. Ginny was suddenly struck by how different he looked when he smiled, even evilly. It was like watching a sheet of ice break and seeing the movement of the cold water underneath. There was no warmth in the expression, but there was the potential, as if you knew that with just the right amount light hitting them the waters would lose their chill and move freely.

"Yes?" Malfoy asked, his smirk firmly back in place, raising his eyebrows at Ginny, who shook herself from her contemplations, a blush creeping up her neck.

"What?" she snapped, feeling guilty for having been around Malfoy for this long and not cursing him or hitting him.

"You were staring at me," Malfoy replied, the smirk becoming more and more pronounced. "See something you like, Weaselette?" Immediately Ginny's hackles went up.

"In your dreams, ferret-face," she spat, turning and stalking away, making a beeline for the exit. She couldn't believe that she had actually had what could pass for a civil conversation with Malfoy. It must have been the whole club atmosphere, she decided. She was drunk on it. That explained everything.

Feeling much better, Ginny got her coat from the coat-check and made her way out the door. The summer night wasn't overly warm, but it was comfortable enough that Ginny paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of being on her own and not having to rush off somewhere. She could just stand here and enjoy the night if she wanted.

Rough hands grabbed her and wrenched her backwards towards the shadows of the building and the darkened alley that ran behind it. It surprised Ginny, who let out a shriek as her captor began to tow her backwards.

Draco watched the girl Weasel march away with a smirk. She was a testy little thing. He thoroughly enjoyed watching the blood creep up her neck as she got angrier and angrier. It was highly entertaining.

But she was gone now and the place was starting to bore him. He walked quickly to the doorway, intending to go find a quiet corner in the alley to Apperate in. But as he stepped out the door he heard a scream come from his right. He whipped his head around and saw some great hulking mass dragging a petite redhead backwards. It was the Weaselette

Not stopping to think, Draco strode towards them, reaching for his wand, intending to curse every single drop of blood out of the attacker with an interesting new spell he had learned. Here was the perfect opportunity to test it.

But before he could even say the incantation, the redhead jammed her elbow into her assailant's stomach, causing him to grunt in pain and surprise. Pulling out of his now slackened grip, the redhead whipped around, her fiery hair swirling out in a sheet around her, and slammed her foot into her attacker's knee. He went down, just in time to for his face to meet her knee as she grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into her upraised knee. Draco heard the crack of a broken nose as the man fell backwards. But the Weaselette wasn't done yet. With all her might she stomped on the guy's groin and then kicked him hard in the side of the head, knocking him out.

Draco just stood there, completely flabbergasted, as the girl Weasel turned around and faced him, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Her eyebrows went up in surprise when she saw him standing there, wand raised.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" she demanded, her voice sharp. Draco instantly recovered himself, lowering his wand and tucking it back into his pants.

"I heard a scream and decided I wanted to try out my new Blood-Letting Curse," he replied casually, staring at the Weaselette, still unable to fully process what had just happened, but determined to save face. "However, it appears you did not need my help."

"In what world would you ever help me, Malfoy?" the girl Weasel asked, her voice sounding tired. The fight seemed to be catching up to her. Wrapping her coat around her thin body more firmly, she walked past him, her long red hair falling across her face and hiding her eyes from view. Draco watched her go, a funny feeling in his chest.

She was different, he decided, running through the events of the night in his head. Different then any other girl he had met. She was fierce, and wild, and uncontrollable. She was like a wildfire. She rolled right through and all you could do was hope you didn't get scorched.

But she tried so hard to contain it. Draco could see the sheer animalistic power roiling beneath her skin. He knew she could feel it too, but she was determined to hide it deep within herself, to shove the beast away in a little corner and ignore it. But the beast, her very nature, wouldn't go quietly. And that made her interesting.

A small smile curled across Draco's lips. He chuckled to himself. Looks like he had a new summer project. Because now he was determined that he, Draco Malfoy, would be the one to release Ginny Weasley's beast.