California Tergiversate And The Balm Of Tlilxochitl
There isn't any interesting and complicated story about why Ginny decided to be evil. It isn't because she's still harboring any secret trauma-lust for Tom Riddle -- Voldemort is a lot of things, but he's no Tom Riddle. It's not because she wanted revenge on Harry for not loving her because, and let's be honest about this now, Harry is quite fit and has snapping green eyes and all that rot, but he's quite the whiner; it's not because she wants attention.
It's easy and it's simple. It's because she's bored, and a little irritated with the world around her. She doesn't really have anything against Muggles and Mudbloods -- in fact, she quite likes Hermione, when Hermione isn't being a pain-in-the-arse know-it-all, and she also likes Harry, who's a Mudblood, too. But being a Weasley, especially the youngest Weasley, isn't easy or fun, and although she loves her mum and dad, it's pretty obvious that the Order is on its way out and Voldemort is in.
Which sucks for Muggles and Mudbloods and people like her parents who would never go over to the Dark Lord's side, but that isn't Ginny's fault or responsibility. It's not like she's evangelically pro-fascist or anything -- she just wants to live in a world where she can buy real robes made for witches, not have to sew crocheted lace to the bottoms of Ron's old robes.
And no one can blame her for that -- especially not Draco Malfoy, who's her contact with the Death Eaters. She likes to think that Malfoy has even developed a grudging respect for her; he doesn't pull her hair, or hex her in the hallways, or make fun of her, and when he knocks her off her broom during Quidditch, at least he's fighting fair and not going easy on her because they work together.
She's not very helpful to the Death Eaters -- she never really has anything interesting to say. It's mostly about why Harry's in a snit this week and what new curses and hexes Hermione's cooked up for Dumbledore's Army and which Ravenclaw Ron is fancying. Draco figures Ron always goes for the smart ones because he's so bloody stupid, and Ginny has to agree -- what other reason would have Ron chasing after a bunch of witches with nothing to them but brains and frizzy hair?
Ginny never suggests that maybe Draco would want Ron to fancy him, because she's not sure if Draco realizes that he's a big nancy boy, and she's also pretty damned sure that Draco's hatred of Ron doesn't actually cover up a deep-rooted longing for Ron's cock up Draco's ass, as that only happens in the Witch Weekly serial. (She's a particular fan of the serials which feature heroes who look suspiciously like Harry and Draco, but she would never mention that either.)
Draco is easy to talk to, she has discovered, because he rarely says anything. Sometimes he sneers at her, but silently; sometimes he asks a question for clarification. She never would have said that Draco Malfoy would be the most non-judgmental Wizard she's ever met, but he's proved himself to be.
Ginny thinks it's because he knows how hard it is to pretend to be something you're not -- of course, he's never had to do that. Maybe it's just because he finds her absolutely too tedious for words.
They meet once a week, late Sunday afternoon when everyone else is drinking tea, and she reports on all the mundane details that make up Gryffindor House. He diligently copies them down in code and mails it off to his mother, and Ginny sits on the desk and swings her legs and thought about how Draco's mum was a Black, and they were notorious for going mad and being violent and engaging in incest.
She wonders, sometimes, if Draco and his mother shagged -- but doesn't really want to know. But, of course, Sirius Black was a Black, and if he hadn't snuffed it, would he have initiated Harry into the art of manly love? Of course, Harry isn't technically a Black, but it would have been just as scandalous because he was Sirius Black's ward; maybe Ginny should write her own serial and publish it in Witch Weekly. She'd name herself after her favorite goddess (Kirke) and, of course, the most rebellious of ancient magical kingdoms (Tigana). No one would ever guess it was mild-mannered Virginia Weasley. Of course, she could also publish as California Tergiversate, and everyone would be just as confused.
Then she always laughs to herself, because who names their children California?, and Draco always looks up and says, "What?" very sharply, and his face is always thrown into shadow by the light of their wands. Always thin and pinched, now, with purple shadows under his eyes. It's all very romantic; maybe Ginny really will write that serial.
The magnificently strapping young man, Reginald Carpenter, and his arch nemesis, Blakeley Blackland, constantly butting heads for the heart of the lovely young woman, California Tergiversate, who was, of course, a Metamorphmagus, so no one was every really certain exactly what she looked like, but they knew she had brilliant violet eyes.
Maybe her eyes were part of her magical power, because, of course, despite the young men vying for her attention, it was up to her to save the world. Meanwhile, while she was busy fighting to free Wizards from oppressive Muggles (because always in a serial there are oppressive Muggles), the two young men are busy realizing their ill-thought-out hatred actually conceals deep, inexhaustible lust, and they have pages and pages of sex in various impossible positions.
Perhaps Dean would be willing to draw a few Wizarding pictures so that the readers of Witch Weekly could be titillated by Harry and Draco look-alikes who actually kissed and penetrated each other.
She would go on for paragraphs about their tastes -- musky and smoky like Real Wizards, yet with undertones of peppermint or chocolate or tenderness or --
What would Draco taste like? Ginny already knew from an ill-conceived Astronomy Tower session with Harry -- they really were supposed to study, but she couldn't help it; his lips looked so soft -- that Harry tasted like pumpkin.
Harry, of course, was awkward and stumbled over himself, and Ginny was able to cheerfully report to Draco that it was likely she was one of the first girls Harry'd ever kissed, and he did it poorly.
Draco smirked instead of sneered at that, and it always makes Ginny smile to remember.
Draco's lips are always pleasantly shiny, like he smeared something on them. The next time they met after that, Ginny squinted at Draco, and after telling him about Ron and Looney Luna snogging after Quidditch practice one night, she said, "What's on your mouth?"
"Don't look at my mouth," replied Draco, and scribbled something on his parchment.
"No, what's on your mouth there? Making it shiny?" Ginny leaned forward and stared. She'd always known Malfoy was vain, but was he wearing makeup?
"It's balm of tlilxochitl from Snape, to prevent chapping," said Draco, and sighed. Ginny began to giggle.
"Snape gives you vanilla lipstick to wear so your lips don't chap?" He stared at her coldly with one raised eyebrow.
"Need I bring up the unfortunate incident wherein you and Potty found yourselves --" he began, and she hiccupped a bit, but stopped giggling.
"No -- no -- sorry. I know your lips must chap easily in the dungeons," she said, and even managed to keep a straight face.
He kept his haughty glare, and didn't relax even the slightest bit. Git.
"Anything else for my mother?" he asked.
"Nope, not today." Ginny hopped down and wondered if Draco's mum was the real force and Lucius Malfoy was just a posturing poser the way her father insists. Plausible, although not really probable.
"All right. Next week. Go away now," said Draco, and bent his head down further, gripped his quill tighter, and Ginny mentally wrote the next part of her serial about Blakeley Blackland's intense focus and the multiple ways that could bring Reginald Carpenter pleasure while they're tied up and at the whim of the evil Muggle overlord.
Oh, that's a good one -- even better than Ginny's original premise. Perhaps the evil Muggle overlord could be forcing them to do nasty, horrible, sexual, wank-worthy things to each other, and California Tergiversate had to save them, and Reginald Carpenter whispers urgently to Blakeley Blackland, "Just give in, man, just let it happen, let go, it's all right," and Blakeley Blackland has to lay back helplessly and give himself up to Reginald's pumpkin-flavored mouth sucking on Blakeley's vanilla-flavored one; almost like a bubble bath, or like Christmas supper.
The things they could do if the Muggle overlord provided them with a squash.
Yes, indeed. Good thing for Ginny that Witch Weekly isn't a family-friendly publication.