A/N: Ok, I have a couple of things to say, so please bare with me and read it all.

Firstly; I began writing this way back in September 2003 when I had a tonne of free time on my hands and I began writing it thinking that it would be a piece of cake. I was clearly wrong. I can't believe how I possibly thought that I could do a better job than everyone else out there. So sorry for all those good names I have defamed in the past J

Secondly; I've figured out that no matter how much I edit something its never going to be exactly how I want it, so I've decided that I'm going to do my damndest to just stop being so anal-retentive about it all.

Thirdly; I'm so lazy, so very lazy, I rarely finish what I start. As in, this has turned into one of those things that I do when I'm supposed to be doing homework. So (as I sit here not doing my Russian homework) I've decided to just put it up as a work in process, which I really didn't want to do, but I know that I will never finish it if I don't have people telling me how brilliant I am ;)

I know the basic plot line of this, it should end up being 10-12 chapters, with each chapter about as long as this one. A happy ending. Don't take any of this too seriously, its all just a game, a bit of a lark, I am in no way ever going to compare the work I have here with Davesmom, Mynuet, Strega Brava, Mocha Butterfly (All You Need Is Love was the first real D/G I read), Lee Velviet (I'm still waiting for an update on The Dragon Rebels, hint hint), Lady Rhiyana, IAmTheLizardQueen, VenusDeMilo, Kirixchi, Jedi Tess of Gryffindor…and I am positive that I'm forgetting other great authors…My grammar should be tolerable and if you find any errors plot-wise or HP canon wise just let me know, it would be greatly appreciated.

Phew, ok, almost done. Oh, there may be people out there reading this who know me outside of the world of cyberspace, so let me know what you think! I almost posted this under a pseudonym so that I wouldn't cop flak from people who actually know me…but I was brave! Make it worth it for me, people!

Disclaimer: Please do sue me cause then I'll have an excuse to do nothing with my life. You may be wondering how its possible to use being sued as an excuse to do nothing with your life, but let me assure you, if anyone could do it it would be me.

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1.

Under Pressure

David Bowie and Freddie Mercury

Mm ba ba de

Um bum ba de

Um bu bu bum da de

Pressure pushing down on me

Pressing down on you no man ask for

Under pressure that brings a building down

Splits a family in two

Puts people on streets

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Virginia Anne Weasley allowed a very satisfied grin to spread across her face, and with good reason too; she had just had the best sex of her life.

…Ok, fine, so it was the only sex of her life so far. But it had been great none-the-less.

Ginny's eyes remained closed as she lay in bed, stretching her arms as far above her shoulders as she could manage, mindless of the arm strewn across her middle. The cool, cream coloured sheet shifted a few centimetres lower as she now stretched her whole body in a most feline manner, causing muscles that normally went unused (before last night, anyway) to protest quite vigorously. The grin slowly faded to a content smile as she cracked one eye slowly and, when she wasn't blinded by the onslaught of the glaring morning sun, the other eye lazily followed the first. Ginny then allowed her arms to flop to her sides bonelessly as she breathed a little sigh, smile still firmly in place. She then lazily turned her head to the left to look at the person who had given her her night of positively sinful pleasure.

Ginny sighed again, except this one was more of a "well-what-can-ya-do?" sigh, for the person to her left was none other than the Draco Malfoy. Ginny turned her head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, thinking back to what had brought her here.

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The Evening Before…

"Ginny, now, really," said a very exasperated Hermione Granger, as Ginny's head came to rest rather forcefully on the Gryffindor dining table, "are such theatrics necessary? Honestly…"

Ginny raised her head several centimeters off of the table and turned to stare blankly at Hermione. After several moments of this, Ginny deemed it too tiring and she turned her head back slowly and let it thud back down to its resting place on the table. Hermione winced at the impact but said nothing more, rather she sighed in a very agitated manner before getting back to her dinner; fettuccini alfredo. Silence reigned between the two until Ronald Weasley, irritating brother of Ginny Weasley and besotted boyfriend of Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter walked briskly up to the table discussing the recent Chudley Cannons and Puddlemere United game.

"Ron! I don't care how often you say it; if Jenkins is close enough to Wadock to give her a black eye with his elbow then he deserves to be called for cobbing, accident or NOT!" Harry finished through gritted teeth as he sat down at the dining table across from Ginny, running a hand through his perpetually wild hair and tossing his meal tray on the table with the other.

"He apologized!" Ron protested as he dumped his books and food on the table and sat down across from Hermione . "And he brought her flowers in hospital, so if you ask me he's interested in her on more than a professional level." Ron hesitated a moment, looking to see if Hermione was paying attention to what he was about to say, before starting again, "It was a bloody accident!"

"Ron! Language!" Hermione snapped, jerking her head up from her meal to frown at him.

"Sorry, 'Mione," Ron said contritely as he began to eat, he did after all have the decency to look repentant when he got caught. Harry clasped his hands on the table in front of him and then looked pointedly at Ron, his lips pressed in a firm line and his eyebrows raised above the line of his glasses. He then turned to Hermione.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Harry asked accusingly.

"Don't you go on to me about what you have to deal with, Mister Harry Potter," Hermione retorted, placing her fork down on the table and nodding her head at Ginny, "I already have one Weasley with a flair for drama to take care of at the moment."

"Gees," Ron mumbled in a hurt tone, "I love you too, Herm." Hermione's only response was to clench her teeth and roll her eyes. She then picked up her fork, internally debating whether the utensil could best be used for eating or stabbing. After an unnoticeable amount of hesitation she decided that Ron could be dealt with later and in a less violent manner, one that wouldn't leave him possibly unmanned. She wasn't a masochist after all.

Meanwhile Harry's eyebrows had slid down and into a frown, his lips softening as he inspected Ginny. "Ginny," he said tentatively, his green eyes inspecting Ginny with obvious worry, "what's wrong?"

Ginny groaned in pain as she raised her head off the table, her body still slumped forwards as she glared half-heartedly at the Boy-Who-Lived. Her elfin features were made more severe by her pinched expression; her high cheekbones lacked their customary natural pinkish tint (her flawless complexion was in fact rather pallid), her almond shaped brown eyes, usually alive and beguiling, were at half mast, her lips made thin as she pressed them forcefully together, bleaching them of their colour. The only thing that remained the same about Ginny Weasley was her vibrant red hair, though it was currently pulled back in a tight ponytail. The vitality of her slightly wavy red hair only served to make the girl's currently pasty skin even more, well, pasty.

"Merlin, Gin," Ron exclaimed with his customary lack of tact as he finally noticed Ginny's rather disturbing appearance, "you look like death warmed up. Maybe you should see Madame Pomfrey." Ginny slowly moved her eyes onto Ron's form, her half glare still firmly intact, and bit by bit her head followed the movement of her eyes. Ron froze mid chew under the penetrating, hostile look that was now directed at him. Suddenly, as if she found it too much of a trial to continue with her present course of action, Ginny's head thumped back onto the table. Ron started at the movement and then joined Harry and Hermione as they winced at the expectantly painful action of slamming one's head onto the dining table.

Ron swallowed and then cleared his throat before saying, "Come on, Gin, what's wrong?" Ginny heaved with a massive sigh, her whole body lifting with the effort it took.

"We're only two weeks into the school year," she mumbled into the table, eyes now fully closed once more, "and I'm already exhausted."

"Well, don't work so hard," Ron said, as if the answer were obvious.

"I don't expect to play professional quidditch for the Chudley Cannons, Ron, it's not like I can afford to get bad grades."

"She's right, Ronald," Hermione confirmed, "the only sure way to guarantee a successful future is to be as prepared as possible, which in this particular environment," the bushy-haired girl gestured around her, "involves getting the best possible marks." Harry and Ron shared an apprehensive glance before quickly averting their eyes, lest they get caught. But to no avail, for Hermione seemed to be in particularly good form tonight. "Don't! Just don't!" She fumed, as she carefully placed her fork beside her plate, removing the temptation to use it as an instrument of harm. Hermione then did something quite unexpected; she closed her eyes and began to hum. Slowly the tension faded from her features, the frown slid from her brow, her lips relaxed, and her shoulders lowered, the muscles in them loosening. Finally, she took in a deep breath…expelled it…and opened her eyes calmly to face the confounded looks on both Harry and Ron's faces.

"Herm…i…o…nee…" Ron ventured hesitantly, fear now clearly etched on his face. Hermione shocked the two boys again by smiling pleasantly at them before proceeding to pick up her fork again and resume her meal.

"Relax, Ron," Hermione looked up for a moment to meet his eyes, her pleasant tone matching her pleasant smile, "isn't that what you're always saying I should do?"

"Well, yes," Ron consented, "but this is kind of…creepy. Harry, help me out here!" He rushed on, sparing Harry a panicked glance. Harry shook his head, as if ridding it of cobwebs, and thought for a few moments.

"Ron, didn't your mother ever tell you about how there is this thing called a gift horse and that you shouldn't look it in the mouth?" Ron turned his perplexed look to Harry now.

"Harry, I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever it is now is not the time to discuss it, because Hermione is quite simply stark raving mad." Ron paused for a moment as a horrified look slowly crept across his face as he turned slowly back to watch Hermione while she ate. "Or maybe that isn't Hermione…" He whispered. Harry rolled his eyes before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table and place his head in his hands as he massaged his temples.

"Ron!" He said exasperatedly, "we've had this discussion before; just because a person acts out of character it doesn't mean that it's Malfoy using polyjuice."

"But-"

"No! Damnit, Ron! No!" Harry almost yelled as he slammed a fist down on the table and glared at his best-friend. Ron looked at his friend with concern.

"Gees, Harry, re-"

"Don't tell me to relax, Ronald Weasley!" Harry bit out. Hermione allowed her smile to turn up a watt as she listened to the interaction between her two best-friends. When one was not a participant in a fight with the youngest male in the Weasley family it really was quite amusing. Hermione, understanding Harry's…vexation, intervened.

"Ron, there's really nothing wrong with me, I've simply realized that there is no way that I am going to change you, or Harry for that matter, and you both seem to have stumbled along rather well so far. Who am I to attempt to alter your, apparently successful, methods?" Ron looked at Hermione's innocent expression suspiciously.

"Alright, I'll allow that," he responded guardedly, "but why the sudden change of heart?"

"Isn't it enough that I finally realize that I love you for who you are? That even if I could, if I thought about it," she added quickly, "I wouldn't change a thing about you?" At this, the long-forgotten-Ginny snorted inelegantly into the table with undisguised mirth, for she knew the real reason for Hermione's change…

There was a slight tightening around the Head-girl's lips before she took a deep breath and the lines dissipated. However, Ron didn't notice any of it, neither Ginny's reaction to Hermione's remarks nor Hermione's reaction to Ginny, because Ron's suspicions had crumpled under his girlfriend's heartfelt declarations.

"I love you, Mione," Ron said softly with a silly half-smile, taking the much talked about fork from Hermione and replacing it with his hand in her grip.

Ginny's head was still facedown on the table when she began to speak. "Ya know, if I was to vomit right now, I'm almost certain I would suffocate in it, because I simply don't have the energy to move." All three people at the table looked at Ginny with mild disgust. "Don't look at me like that," Ginny said imperiously, without even opening her eyes, "Harry at least must admit that that little performance was positively sick-making." Ron and Hermione swung their heads to look at Harry who shrugged his shoulders and tossed his head, as if he had seen such 'sick-making performances' many a time. Which wasn't altogether true, but how often did one get to toss their head in such a lofty manner and not come off as a complete ass? The couple had the grace to look abashed, releasing their hands and resuming their meals.

After a few minutes of silence, in which Ginny still hadn't moved, Seamus Finnigan came to sit down beside Ginny, nudging her with his elbow. Seamus was rather tall, just clearing six foot, with a medium build, sandy hair and chocolate brown eyes. The Irishman was handsome in a very boy-band way, though he appeared to be completely oblivious to the effect he had on some women. Appeared being the key word. Seamus was the kind of boy who when he smiled his eyes lit up and smiled as well, and let's just say that right now his eyes could have lit the entire city of New York during a blackout.

"Hey, Ginny-dear," his lilting voice sounding altogether too lively for Ginny's liking, "what's got you down on this fine night?" Ginny grunted. "Ah," Seamus responded as he nodded his head in understanding, "yes, well, we all know what you need to cure that;" this was the point at which Harry, Hermione, and Ron all either sighed, rolled their eyes, or groaned (or some odd combination of the three), for they knew what was coming, "…a shag."

The Dream Team sighed in unison at having their expectations confirmed. Though to be perfectly honest the odds were considerably in their favour, in much the same way that lightening was in favour of striking lightening rods. "Yep, that's what you need, Ginny-dear, a shag," Seamus grinned, unashamed, and, to one less acquainted with the group, quite remarkably unafraid, considering the often over-baring, youngest male Weasley (who felt the need to make up for the absence of his sister's five older, other testosterone-driven Weasley brothers) was sitting right there.

But Seamus acted with the full knowledge that no harm would come to him, for it was a well known fact that Seamus Finnigan flirted outrageously with Ginny Weasley for no particular reason. Even Ron had come to see that it was just a game and had ceased his dire threats of death and mutilation some time ago. Seamus rubbed Ginny's back soothingly and said, "I'm here for you, Ginny-dear, day or night, anytime, you just owl me." He then lifted himself from his sitting position at the table and whistled as he walked away. Ginny wondered to herself what he would actually do if she took him up on his offer one day…probably run the other way, 'cause Ron would certainly kick his arse then.

"Ginny, why don't you just take a break tonight?" Harry suggested. "It is a Friday after all, so you have a couple of days before your work is due."

"I would take a break tonight," Ginny mumbled, "but I have detention."

"What did The Bastard do now?" Ron asked angrily around a mouth full of food. Ginny correctly interpreted 'The Bastard' to be Severus Snape, resident Potions Master and teacher.

"Nothing lately, other than dirty perfectly good air. I actually have detention with McGonagall."

Hermione gasped. "Really?" She asked, astonished. "What did you do? It must have been serious for her to give you detention, you're in Gryffindor, which should automatically excuse you from some things, though she is fair."

"I was tired. I said something instead of something else and the next thing I know," here Ginny's shoulders heaved with a sigh, "my book on minotaurs is in fact a minotaur."

"Damn," Harry grimaced. "So do you owe her 20 years of detention or just your first born child?"

"No, no, just tonight." Ginny's tone belied her words as she added, "Quite surprised myself, actually."

"Well, I've got homework to do, so I'm off," Hermione stated as she rose and gathered her belongings.

"What?!" Ron cried, "But it's a Friday night!"

"Precisely, Ron," Hermione explained patiently, "I need to do all my work tonight so that I can spend tomorrow and the next day with you." Ron looked startled for a moment before responding.

"Well, then, get to it, woman," he said with a silly grin on his face and a commanding wave of his hand. Hermione smiled back at him and looked at him expectantly. Ron looked from her to Harry, to Ginny, and then finally back to Hermione, and then his smile started to fade. He sighed a deep sigh, his whole body working with the effort as he grumbled, "I'll finish eating and then I'll meet you in the common room." Hermione gave him a charitable smile.

"That's quite alright, Ronald, you do what you want to do. I merely wanted a goodbye kiss," a pleasant smile gracing her face.

Ron looked dumbfounded for a moment. " 'Course, Mione," and he stood slowly and proceeded to kiss her hesitantly on the cheek. Hermione smiled at Ron again and then turned and left. Ron remained standing, his eyes narrowing as he watched his girlfriend leave the dining hall.

"She's up to something; there's no way she would let me not do any homework on a Friday night." The red-haired boy looked severely confused for a few more moments. "Damn women," he muttered, "give 'em a mile and they'll take you around the world." Then he too hefted his books and left, thinking Hermione's actions were some kind of elaborate trick so that she could…do…something…He'd figure that part out later.

"Ginny, if I leave you, will you live?" Harry asked mock-seriously.

Ginny, moved by his concern, lifted her arm…and gave him the finger. Hey, she wasn't moved in a nice way.

Harry chuckled as her arm thumped back down, exhausted with the effort. "Ah, Gin," he said as he stood and collected his things and made to leave, "you make it too easy." Ginny grunted, as Harry left, still smiling to himself.

A few people from each house lingered in the dining hall, taking the time to enjoy their meals without having to worry about the pressures of having work to turn in the next day. One of those people was Draco Malfoy, who had an amazing love of food and whose sleek frame was explained by an equally amazing metabolism and regular exercise as the Slytherin seeker.

Blaise Zabini, Malfoy's best friend, had left only moments before to work on a secret potion that would be the "key to many a Gryffindor's humiliation". Diviniation had been a big thing in the 60's and 70's, attendance had surged, and thus there were now a surplus of unused rooms that were absolutely perfect for the Slytherin to make the potion in secret.

Blaise Zabini stood at 5'8", had almost black eyes, was slender in build and in possession of striking features, not pretty or beautiful, but striking. When combined with the seventh year's acerbic tongue, the angular features only served to increase the cutting effect. Over the years, Blaise Zabini had established a reputation for possessing a quick wit and a far superior intelligence. Where Malfoy had developed the ability to stomp all over a person's confidence, Zabini drew on a plethora of incredibly artistic words to simply slice said person's confidence in the most efficient locations.

At this year's sorting Zabini had excitedly (well, as excitedly as a person who is characterized by sedate dignity and an often strait-laced sense of propriety could be) revealed that it had taken the entire summer to appropriate all the necessary ingredients for the, as yet, unrevealed potion. Unsavory locations and characters alike were depicted in exaggerated detail in an attempt to engage the intended Slytherin audience. Blaise received countless offers of assistance at the dinner table that night, for who wouldn't want to be associated with the "key to many a Gryffindor's humiliation"? But Blaise Zabini had fenced the offers with an amazing alacrity and with such diplomacy that none found it possible to dissuade the seventh year's desire for privacy in this matter at fault.

The Head Boy nimbly twirled a strand of pasta around his fork and casually brought it to his mouth, allowing himself a moment of close-eyed appreciation. Those elves may be lower forms of life, but damn could they cook. Or so Malfoy thought.

Malfoy was slouching casually (though it seemed like a calculated pose), one slender hand curved about the top of his plate of pasta protectively while the other lightly grasped his fork in a manner that on anyone else would have looked, quite frankly, poncy. His robes clung to his arms and the rest of his figure wonderfully, showing his slender 5'10" frame to perfection. Naturally. As if a Malfoy would be caught in any state other than perfection. Though the family had contemplated visiting California at one point…but back to the matter at hand.

Malfoy's hair was gelled back severely, as it had been since his hair was long enough to gel back. Hell, who was he kidding, according to Draco Malfoy any length was long enough to gel back. Malfoy's features were altogether aristocratic, as they should be. The quidditch captain's features were delicate, almost too delicate. Almost. His grey eyes harmonizing with his pale blond hair flawlessly, and his full lips in combination with his high cheek bones only added to his palpable sex-appeal. And he knew it. In fact, he looked like he had just stepped off a GQ magazine photo shoot. As usual. And he knew it. Always had. Never doubted it.

At the moment Malfoy's attention was focused somewhere other than on himself, well, partly anyway. A good 25% of it at least. The Weasel's miserable figure had captured his attention a few moments ago when her head had thumped down on the table immediately preceding the departure of Harry "Wanking" Potter. Malfoy was not surprised by Ginny's actions, thinking the presence of "The Boy Who Is the Poster Child for Abortion" would drive anyone to pound their head against the nearest hard surface. Malfoy shared a moment of pain with Ginny Weasley, and then promptly thought to compensate for said moment of empathy by harassing her as she left the dining hall. Malfoy took another bite of his pasta and smirked; life was good.