dgfiaexchange (dgfiaexchange) wrote in dgficexchange,

A Malfoy Down the Hole, for Hipokras

A Malfoy Down the Hole

Prompt #1
For hipokras

Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Summary: While boringly waiting for Dumbledore to get his detention, Draco Malfoy suddenly finds himself in a different world in which he meets a Ginny Weasley who wants it off with his head. In a place where they are all mad, finding a smoking Slughorn, a tea-obsessed Luna or tear-filled pools are not at all surprising.
Author’s Note: Sorry that it took me so long to finish it. I’m really not used to writing at all and this is the second fanfic I’ve ever written (the first was really bad), so I know this is not very good, but I hope you like it. For the owner of this awesome prompt, I hope I didn’t ruin it much >_< Also, English is not my first language, so I apologise in advance for grammatical errors and my limited vocabulary. By the way, I got the pool reference from Ouran High School Host Club (and changed it a bit) and the name Weaselton from Frozen (changed it slightly, too) and “We’re all mad here” is from Alice in Wonderland. Thanks for reading, lots of love ^_^


Draco Malfoy wasn’t destined to have a good day. He knew he was in trouble and even hiding behind the Malfoy name wasn’t going to save him this time.

 It was a well-known fact that being a handsome, rich and pure-blood wizard meant simply power at Hogwarts and it came with some handy merits like saving your neck in unwanted situations.

  Well, most of the time. Said Draco Malfoy –the richest, most handsome and the purest of all the Hogwarts students as he described himself- wasn’t seeing the merits in question right now, much to his dismay. He was stuck in Dumbledore’s office, alone, waiting for Merlin knew what kind of a punishment the old crock would come up with. Hogwarts stuff always like exaggerating.  Seriously, threatening first-year Gryffindors with feeding them to The Giant Squid if they didn’t spread the rumour that Harry Potter was sleeping with a teddy bear named “Mr Marshmallow” couldn’t actually worth all the drama. And come to think about it, he almost succeed if it wasn’t for that old hag McGonagall.

“Bossy wench,” he muttered to himself angrily. How dare she treat the only Malfoy heir that way, he’s make sure that his father would definitely hear about it.

What an awfully plain room the crazy pot had, by the way.

What’s the point of being the headmaster, he thought, if there’s no expensive stuff in your office?

This must had been some kind of loser Gryffindor trait, probably. After all, those idiots were known for their annoying humbleness, as if playing the hero all the time wasn’t enough.

His eyes fell on the big, antique clock on the wall.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Still no one was coming.

“Ugh!” he groaned loudly. “My time is too precious to waste!” He was just about to stand up when the door opened loudly and a furious-looking Cornelius Fudge came in.

“Late, late, terribly late. Oh, she’s going to rip me off into pieces!” he cried while hastily began to search for something. He seemed like either not to notice Draco or he didn’t care.

However, Draco was surprised. What in the name of Salazar the minister was doing in Dumbledore’s office at this time of the day? Then something struck him.  Of course! It was definitely his father’s doing! He knew that Lucius wouldn’t let his only son to rot in useless detentions.

“Mr Fudge,” he called. “My father must have sent you here, right?” he said smugly.

Nevertheless, Fudge was continuing his fruitless research and treated Draco like he was invisible, which made him furious instantly (How dare he! thought Draco). Having been realised that there was no chance to find what he was looking for, Fudge let out a frustrated groan. Then, he took out a pocket watch and checked the time.

“Merlin’s beard!” he cried. “When did it become that late? How am I supposed to catch up with it now?” he shouted to the empty-if-it-wasn’t-for-a-bemused-looking-Draco room.  And with that last sentence, he quickened his steps and got out of the room.

Hell no! There was no way Draco would stay in that room anymore. How the hell the older man could ignore him, ignore THE Draco Malfoy?

As expected, out of anger and a bit of curiosity, Draco ran after Fudge. And he could had easily caught up with him if the man hadn’t been running as if he was being chased down by a bunch of hippogriffs. However, Draco caught a glimpse of the minister entering a room at the end of the corridor. It was a bit queer actually, Draco could swear that he had never seen a door in there before. He was completely sure that he had never been to the room when he entered. It was a vast but gloomy room with a very high ceiling, like the rest of Hogwarts’ rooms.

Fudge was nowhere to be seen. And Draco realised why when he saw a tiny minister passing through a tiny door. It shouldn’t had been surprising to Draco, he was living in a magical world, after all. But there was something about this situation which was somehow intriguing. He probably used a shrinking charm or something, he thought, but he couldn’t help himself getting curious. He took out his wand, pointed it to the door and said “Engorgio!”

Nothing happened.

He got a bit furious. As if it wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t remember how to do a shrinking charm either, and he knew that he had to find a way to pass that door.

It was when he realised the table standing next to him. Weird, he though, the table definitely wasn’t there just a couple of seconds ago. But he was a wizard and questioning how things appear and disappear all of a sudden would be just plainly absurd, so he let the thought go.

Is that Butterbeer? he thought, looking at the glass bottle full of drink. Yes, it was definitely it, along with some Berty Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, with the words “Drink Me” and “Eat Me” inscribed on them.

This must be some kind of joke, the blond Slytherin thought. “Is that you, Zabini?” he shouted to the empty room. “If that’s your type of humour then you are such a loser. Put an end to this nonsense!” he gritted the words between his teeth.

No one answered.

Frustrated and tired, he decided to drink the Butterbeer (This better not to turn me into some kind of ugly troll like the Weasel King, he thought). He waited for a couple of seconds for something to happen but he was disappointed. Again.

He let out a groan. What was he going to do now? He knew that he wasn’t going to return to Dumbledore’s office and he also was curious about that sorry-excuse-for-a-minister Fudge. He took a step back, roaming around the room. Just when he decided to give up, he stumbled and fell right into a long, red curtain and disappeared behind it.

For a moment, he couldn’t see anything. Everything was pitch black.

He was falling, falling and falling. When he thought that he couldn’t be falling more, he kept falling. Then, a sudden thought strike him.

“I’m going to hell!” he thought. “I’m going to rot in hell while the Dream Team is having fun out there. This isn’t fair!” he shouted. When he lost hope that he wasn’t actually falling down to hell, he hit something.
Water? he thought, while trying to swim through the surface. Since when there were pools in hell? Maybe his father reserved a VIP suit or something from hell. I didn’t sound absurd much, The Malfoys were capable of anything, after all.

“Apparently, you made a lot of people cry,” a voice came from somewhere near the pool.

“What?” said Draco. What the hell that had to do with it?

“This pool consists of the tears of the people whom you made cry,” the voice continued (and it was a bit familiar, Draco thought).

“Pretty much, eh? You are such a mean boy just like your father.”

“Professor Slughorn?”

It was Horace Slughorn, sitting on a giant, turned upside down cauldron and making Harry Potter figures from the smoke which came out of a weird pipe.

“Your father was such a bastard back then,” said Slughorn. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“What are you doing here Professor?” asked Draco. “And what actually is this place? When did you come here?”

“You talk too much,” said Slughorn. “I was always here, never came, never left.”

“How can I get out of here, may I ask?” asked Draco, getting irritated by the stupid answers Slughorn was coming up with.

“I won’t tell you,” said the potions master, and kept on smoking.

“Why the hell not?” asked Draco furiously, the vein on his temples throbbing.

“I’m afraid you have to find it out by yourself,” said Slughorn. “It’s time you paid for your impulsive actions.”

“I don’t need you anyway,” snapped Draco. “I’m smart enough to find the way out by myself.” He was no Hermione Granger but he was always the smartest one in their year after her or he says so.

He turned his back to the ex-Slytherin and started to walk. No sooner took he a few steps, other voices came into the scene.

“I wouldn’t go that way if I were you,” two voices said in unison.

Seriously, can my day get any worse? , Draco rolled his eyes as he saw Fred and George Weasley coming out behind the trees.

“What do we have here?” said Fred mockingly. “Can you believe it, George?”

“A little Malfoy in the forest alone,” continued George, laughing. “Are you lost, missy?”

“Sod off!” Draco roared. “And try to resist touching me. My uniform is brand new, I don’t want to burn it down.”

“Nice to see you here, too, Malfoy,” Fred said sarcastically. “I see you’re in a good mood like always.”

Draco decided to ignore them and kept walking for he didn’t want those annoying Weasleys to have the honour of a Malfoy talking to them.

“Your thick-headedness never ceases to amaze me,” said George. “We just warned you not to that way just a couple of minutes ago.”

Ha! Got you there! Probably the exit was that way and those idiots were trying to fool him! But Draco was too smart to fall for cheap tricks like that, of course.

“Yeah, whatever,” said the blond. “As if I’m going to listen to a couple of evil Weasels.”

“Hark who’s talking,” Fred made a face. “Aren’t you holding that record yourself Malfoy?”

“Get out of my way,” Draco raised his voice.

“Or what?” both said in unison. “The elder Malfoy will hear about this?” continued George in a mocking voice.

Draco would make sure of that when he got out of here. So, again, he decided to ignore them and swept through the forest.

“You’re asking for it blondie!” Fred shouted behind him as Draco kept getting further. “She’s not in a good mood today, you’ll regret it!”

Draco didn’t even bother to answer back. He was sick of their picking on him and he also had no idea what they were talking about. Who was that “she” in question?

Those idiots, he thought. They are just trying to scare me, as if they can succeed. A Malfoy is never afraid of anything, as Lucius Malfoy always said (well, maybe except a little bit of You-Know-Who).

Just when he arrived to a clearing in the forest that he realised the long table that was set in there. There were three people sitting at one end, talking and drinking something at the same time. He recognised Fudge immediately, his anger still hadn’t subsided for he still hadn’t forget the way the minister ignored him. Next to him was a ghost drinking tea (which was highly ridiculous considering the fact that all of the drink was just passing through him and spilling to the ground). The third was a girl with long dirty blonde hair, whose face was covered as a result of the enormous hat she was wearing.

Having thought that they possibly couldn’t be worse than the ones he ran into today, Draco decided to join them, thinking how crazier his day could get.

“Hello Draco,” the girl said as she pushed the hat a little from her face, enough to make her face visible. “It’s nice to see you here,” she smiled dreamily.

Speaking of crazy, Draco muttered. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same for you, Lovegood,” he sneered.

“What a lovely day, isn’t it?” Luna continued. “Wouldn’t you want to join us and have some tea?”

And without waiting for his response, she began to pour tea into an empty cup next to her.

“Excuse me,” Draco said in a voice as if someone just insulted him. “I think you’re confusing me with Weaselette. Did you really think that I’d want something like that?”

“Why not?” asked the ghost.

It was when Draco recognised the ghost. Cuthbert Binns.

As if Slughorn wasn’t enough, he muttered. What was it, some kind of Hogwarts staff party? Who was next, Snape? “I didn’t know you liked tea that much Professor,” he said mockingly.

“I’m retired,” said Binns. “I’m a retired and free ghost and I can do whatever I want.”

“Hanging out with Lovegood doesn’t do you much good, I see,” said Draco. “Wish I could linger here and chat with you but I don’t want to. Anyone knows how to get out of this crazy place?”
“I think this place is wonderful,” Luna said dreamily.
“Of course you’d say that,” the blond rolled his eyes. “Must be the perfect place for you, isn’t it?”
“Well, it would have been if it wasn’t for her!” yelled Fudge suddenly, while angrily slamming the teacup into the table.
“I didn’t know Lovegood was such a nuisance,” said Draco in surprise, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, yeah, she’s a bit off her rocker but…”
“Not her, you idiot!” Fudge interrupted furiously. “The Queen! I bet all of our heads will be gone by midnight!”
“What are you talking about?” asked the Slytherin. “There are no royalties in the wizarding world,” he continued, going all Granger suddenly. “You mean the Muggle one? You can’t seriously be afraid of a Muggle, queen or not,” he grimaced.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Fudge yelled. “Go and see it yourself and then come speak to me, if you can come out alive, of course!”

Now Draco was starting to get seriously annoyed.

“I’m going,” he sneered. “I can’t put up with your ridiculous conversation any longer.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Mr Malfoy,” said Binns.

Like I care what you think, Draco muttered under his breath as he started to walk. A voice came behind him.

“Good luck, Draco!” called Luna cheerily. “You’ll need it. And don’t forget to watch out for Nargles.”

Mentally getting more and more tired, he walked through the other part of the forest, in which the trees looked like diminishing. And it was where he, unsurprisingly, came across to another unexpected acquaintance.

Two house elves, one trying to hold a small pink puffy creature (just like those evil Weasley twins’ merchandise, thought Draco) while the other was trying to paint it blue, were in the middle of an argument.

Can you believe it, said Draco sarcastically to himself. Even house elves are here! What’s next, Zabini?

“Get out of my way!” A voice cried out just before crashing into Draco, which sent both to the ground harshly.

“IT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION!” yelled Draco, after seeing that the intruder, in fact, was really Blaise Zabini.

“Shut up, you idiot!” Blaise shouted. “You and your stupid big mouth will give us away!”

“Excuse YOU,” Draco snapped. “Maybe you should’ve thought about it before literally deciding to sweep me of my feet!”

“Never mind it,” said Blaise listlessly. “Why are you here? Did she call for you, too? I always knew she had something for you,” he continued. “Not sure a good kind of something or a bad kind, but she’s obviously not indifferent.”

“What are you blabbering about?” snarled Draco.

The brunet opened his mouth to say something, but someone was already before him.

“He’s here! Catch him! Now!”

“Well, thank you Mr Widemouth,” Blaise snapped. “Thanks to you I’m spending my last minutes alive right now.”

The blond was just about to snap back when he, too, was interrupted.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” a female voice spoke up. “Two Slytherins roaming around my land,” she continued in a taunting voice.

Draco’s jaw dropped.

It was Ginevra Weasley, wearing an expensive-looking rich green gown (probably stolen, he thought) that finished at the knee. She also was wearing a mocking smile while looking directly at Draco.

This is not good, he thought. This is not good at all.

“Malfoy,” she said, not faltering the smile. “How nice of you to decide to join us. I can’t say I’m not surprised. We definitely weren’t expecting you.”

“What are you playing at, Weasley?” he asked angrily. “Were all this nonsense your doing?”

Well, now he made her angry.

“Idiot,” mumbled Blaise.

“How dare you speak to me like that, you cockroach!” yelled Ginny.

“How dare I?” Draco let out a joyless laugh. “How dare you speak to me like that? Who do you think you are? Do you think that you became a queen or something just because you wear expensive now?”

“Yes, I am!” Ginny said indignantly. “I’m the Queen of this land, a.k.a Weaselton.” She raised her chin up.

“Weaselton?” he said in a mocking voice. “Did you name this stupid place Weaselton? How creative,” said the blond sarcastically. “And don’t make me laugh,” he continued. “You and being queen? The chances of Snape being the queen is higher than yours.”

“Shut your bloody gob, you imbecile!” whispered Blaise angrily.

“ENOUGH!” Ginny roared. “Catch Malfoy!” she shouted and pointed her finger to Blaise. “And him! Both of them! Now! Off with their heads!”

With her command, four young men dressed in armours appeared out of nowhere. Two of them, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, clutched Blaise in the arms while the other two captured Draco. One of them was Neville Longbottom, and the other one was…

“Greg!” exclaimed Draco. A sudden annoyance rushed through him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What do you think?” said Blaise angrily. “He’s playing the traitor, aren’t you Goyle? GET YOUR FILTHY GRYFFINDOR HANDS OFF ME!” he yelled to Dean and Seamus.

“How could you?” said Draco through his teeth. “Did she use Amortentia on you or what? You’re on our side!”

“Not anymore,” answered Goyle. “Queen Weasley promised me two thousand chocolate frogs and Cho Chang in exchange for servitude.”

“So, you sold us out for some chocolate and a stupid girl?” Draco asked, livid.

“Hey, I’m a Slytherin. What do you expect?” Goyle defended himself. “Also, playing the good guy is more fun, you should try it sometime, Draco.”

Bastard, Draco muttered angrily.

“What are you waiting for?” yelled Ginny impatiently. “Hurry up! Off with their heads! Take Malfoy first!”

“Weasley!” shouted Draco. “Surely, you can’t be serious! You are not going to kill me, right? I’m still too young and handsome to die!”

“Well, you should’ve thought about it before deciding to be such a slimy git,” she said indifferently. “You’re going to pay for all of your picking on me at Hogwarts.”
“Come on!” said Draco desperately. “Let’s not bother about the past, shall we? You know what they say, sometimes you need to put the past away and move on with your life.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Ginny snapped. “And they also say that ‘Don’t forget the past, learn from it.’ ”

“Oh, there’s one I like very much,” jumped Goyle enthusiastically. “Be kind for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

“What the hell that has anything to do with it?” snapped Blaise.

“Whatever!” interrupted Ginny. “You’re wasting your time, I’m not going to spare your life.”

“L-look about the picking on,” Draco stuttered.

“You’re wasting your breath,” repeated the redhead coldly.

“No, it’s not what you think,” he tried to continue.

“I don’t want to hear,” she raised her chin.

“If you just listen for a minute,” Draco gritted his teeth.

“Off with his head!” she yelled again.

“I PICKED ON YOU BECAUSE I FANCIED YOU!” he shouted angrily.

There. He said it. At last.

“What?” said Ginny, with a serious expression, not even a muscle moving on her face.

“Ha! I knew it!” Blaise exclaimed next to Draco. “Theo owes me 30 galleons! Well, if I can make it alive out here.” His face fell.

“I don’t believe it,” said Ginny, turning her head away.

“What?” Draco said in a voice mixed with surprise and anger. “Are you kidding me? Why would I lie about something like that?”

“You’re a Slytherin, lying bastard is like your middle name,” she said, apathetic. “Your house even got ‘Sly’ in it. You’re just trying to save your neck. How many times do I need to tell you, thick-head, that it’s in vain.”

Salazar help me, the blond muttered. “Weasley, come on!” he exclaimed exasperatedly.

“Yeah Weasley, come on!” Blaise backed up his friend. “Give him a chance!”

She glanced at the two Slytherins suspiciously and made a face.

“Fine!” she yelled. “I’m giving you one last chance. But if you lose, your head will pay for it. Use it well.”

“Losing what?” asked Draco asked, his mind swimming in confusion again.

“Quidditch,” the redhead said. “We’re going to play Quidditch.”

Yes! Exclaimed Draco to himself. It was in the bag. Even though that bloody Scarhead always managed to defeat him at school, Draco knew that he was, in fact, really good at Quidditch.

“Piece of cake,” he said smugly. “When do we start?”

“Someone’s awfully sure of himself,” Ginny grimaced. “You’re playing against Charlie, by the way. My brother.”

Bint, he muttered angrily. It wasn’t good. He never met Charlie Weasley before but the ex-captain’s Quidditch skills were quite famous at Hogwarts.

“If you win,” continued the redhead. “I’m going to spare you and Zabini. But if Charlie wins, it’s the grand finale for you two,” she sing-songed.

Then, she took out her wand, pointed it at the sky and shouted “Picem Ascendere!”

An enormous Quidditch pitch appeared just behind them.
“Let’s get started!” she clapped her hands enthusiastically.

“Yeah, sure,” Draco said with a sulky face. He had a glance over the broomsticks.

“No Firebolts?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Charlie’s got the Firebolt,” said Ginny. “Looks like you’ve got to go with the other ones,” she taunted.

“That’s not fair!” he cried out indignantly.

“Life’s not fair,” she said in an unconcerned voice. “You’d better get used to it.”

“Draco Malfoy, isn’t it?” a voice called from behind.

The blond Slytherin turned around to meet the owner of the voice. There was a tall, well-built (and of course, red-headed) young man, smiling at him. He held out his hand to Draco.
As much as Draco hated the idea of a Weasley touching him (maybe except the female one), he knew that he had to be careful and not make the so-called Queen, who was determined to get it off with his head, angrier. He shook the elder Weasley’s hand, trying to hide his disgust at the same time.

“So,” said Charlie. “Let the game begin!”

Draco mounted his broom (a Nimbus 2001, unfortunately it was the best he could find) while still mumbling about the unfairness of the situation and rose up to the sky.

“Okay,” said Charlie. “We’re both playing the seekers. All you have to do is to catch the snitch.”

“I know how to play Quidditch, thanks,” snapped the blond.

“Just in case,” said the ex-Gryffindor. “Don’t worry about the rest of the game, it’s your teammates’ problem.

Draco had a glance over the said teammates. There were six men he had never seen before, all wearing a goofy expression and looking like they had no idea why they were there. One was looking at the brooms like he had never seen one before.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Draco cried out in agony. “How am I supposed to win with a bunch of idiots? Let alone knowing how to ride a broom, I doubt if they’re even wizards!”

“Well, that’s your problem,” shrugged the elder redhead.

Bloody Weasleys, swore the blond under his breath.

“Stop wobbling, Malfoy!” Ginny’s magnified voice filled the air.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“On my count,” she continued. “3, 2, 1!“ She blew the whistle.

Draco’s eyes were wide open. He looked around carefully, not blinking at all, to catch a glimpse of the golden sphere. Yet, there seemed to be no sign of it anywhere. He took his glance over Charlie Weasley, checking whether he saw the snitch or not.

He tried not to look at his pathetic teammates in case it would kill his spirit, but he couldn’t help himself. The keeper was trying not to fall over his broom, the chasers were kept on crashing into each other every other minute and the beaters were in Merlin knew where.

Draco was near to tears. His only hope was the snitch for this sorry excuse for a team had more chances of winning a fashion competition than a Quidditch match.

Weasley’s team was keeping on scoring, which was adding fuel to the blond’s anger.

He definitely wasn’t going to lose! If only he could catch the snitch than the game would already be in the bag.

Suddenly, a golden sparkle caught his eye. That was it! He saw it first! Grey eyes glued to the snitch, he sped up and dived for it. Just a little longer, he said to himself, and it’ll all worth it.

He stretched his hand out, getting closer and closer to the sphere second by second. He was just about to grasp it, when another hand stretched out before him and intertwined his fingers around the snitch.

The whistle was blown.

“WHAT?” yelled the Slytherin, livid. “What the hell! I was so close! It was nearly in my hand! I don’t accept it!” He turned to Charlie and continued furiously. “You probably used Felix Felicis or something, didn’t you?!”

“It isn’t my fault that you’re slow as a house elf,” shrugged the Hogwarts alumni.

“Stop being such a drama queen, Malfoy!” exclaimed Ginny. “Defeat is hard to take, Isn’t it?”

Draco clenched his hands into fists and gritted something incomprehensible between his teeth.

Ginny either didn’t hear what he said or chose not to care.

“Well, a promise is a promise,” she continued. “I told you that your head will pay for your loss. Catch him!” she ordered.

Struggling to set himself free, Draco tried to talk to her again.

“Weasley, please,” he implored (even a Malfoy would beg a Weasley if it was his life in danger). “I was serious about what I said to you. Come on!” he tried to get round her. “We can make a fresh start.”

“In your dreams” she taunted. “Time to wake up, Draco. Face the reality.”

“You’re insane!” he cried.

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” she said. “We’re all mad here.”

“Ginny!” he exclaimed. It was the first time he was using her given name.

“Farewell, Malfoy,” said the redhead mercilessly. And shouted “Off with his head!”

“Ginny!” shouted Draco again and remembered no more.

“Malfoy. Malfoy. MALFOY!”

Draco jumped abruptly. His whole body was aching like hell. What the hell, he muttered.

“Get up! You fell asleep on Dumbledore’s desk, you idiot! Time to wake up.”

He recognised the voice immediately.

“Weasley!” he jumped again.
“Are you okay?” she asked in surprised. “You don’t look well.”

“Your concern for me is touching,” he teased.

“Hardly,” she muttered, raising her chin.

He couldn’t help but smile. “What were you saying, did I fall asleep?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Dumbledore had to go somewhere urgently, so I came to inform you but you had already drifted into your beauty sleep,” she said mockingly.

He let out a sigh of relief. So, all of it was just a part of a dream. No crazy head-obsessed Weasley, the most stupid Quidditch game he had ever played or a smoking Slughorn. He was too busy filling himself with joy that he didn’t even get irritated by the redhead’s teasing.

“You know,” she said in a taunting voice. “You said the most unexpected thing in your sleep.”

“What?” said the blond, intrigued.

“Oh,” the Gryffindor said, smiling. “Don’t you remember what you were dreaming about? Because I was definitely curious about it. Pity.”

“Cut the games, Weasley,” he was getting irritated.

“I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears,” she continued her teasing, ignoring the blond.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Get into the subject,” he said impatiently. What in the world that annoying redhead could’ve heard that made her smile like that?

“You said my name,” she said, not faltering the smile while looking directly at him. “Not Weasley, but Ginny.”
His jaw dropped. Ugh, how did I blurt that out? he mentally slapped himself. Now, she was probably thinking that he liked her or something. Well, technically he did, but he definitely had no intention of letting her know.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered. Damn it!

Her smile turned into a grin. “Yeah, right,” the redhead sing-songed. Then she turned around her heels and started walking towards the door. Just when she reached the sill, the Gryffindor turned her head over her shoulder and smiled at the blond. “Let’s not worry about the past, shall we, Draco?” she said and walked out the door, leaving a bemused Draco Malfoy behind.

He stared at the spot she disappeared just a couple of seconds ago. Maybe she was right. Wasn’t he the one talking about fresh starts, after all? True, Ginny Weasley was a total nuisance, but the bee doesn’t bother you when you like the buzz. A fresh start, yeah, he could try that. He smiled to himself and followed the redhead out the door.

Draco Malfoy wasn’t destined to have a good day. But if you have an annoying little redhead like Ginny Weasley by your side who keeps on bothering you all the time, even though you secretly like it but too stubborn to tell anyone, your day can get a lot brighter when you least expect it to be.

Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: Draco falls down the rabbit hole and emerges in an underground Wonderland, where he meets a Ginny who wants it "off with his head." (Alice in Wonderland AU/fusion/something similar.) (Fudge as the March Hare, Luna as the Hatter, Binns as the Dormouse, Slughorn as the caterpillar, Fred and George as Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, etc.)
The tone/mood of the fic: Light, humorous, realistic (within the bounds of possibility, given the kind of request.)
An element/line of dialogue/object you would specifically like in your fic: Quidditch as the flamingo croquet game. Blaise Zambini. Bill as Ginny's favorite brother (as in canon.)
Preferred rating of the fic you want: PG-13 (but comfortable with higher or lower as well)
More canon, or more AU? More AU preferred (but if that doesn't work out, more canon is also perfectly all right.)
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): Character/ship bashing, transformation of Slytherin into a house of perfect specimens of coolness/Gryffindor into mean bullies, etc.,

abusive Malfoy parents, excessive angst.
Are you willing to receive art instead of a fic? No.

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