Protection (Drarry)

Chapter Seven

Ginny's owl arrived after lunch, when they had arrived back from another Seekers' run, warning him that she expected him to be ready to go by eight with something new to wear. Her postscript assured him that this place would be better.

He eyed the clothes in his wardrobe warily. He wasn't sure where they were going yet, and Ginny had been particularly insistent on wearing something new and nice. He decided on similar attire to the other night, choosing black jeans and sneakers and a light blue shirt with faintly shimmery material. He was fairly certain Ginny had bought him this one in a sincere but misguided attempt to get him to make an effort in his appearance. He only ever wore this kind of clothing when he was out with her, and then only because she would make him wear something ten times worse if he didn't.

He brushed his hair half-heartedly, but it still stuck in every direction. He was lucky that it had at least grown to a length beyond the point where it just stuck straight up. At least at the length it was now, it could seem like he had intended it to look messy.

He came downstairs and sat in the living room to wait for Ginny. Malfoy looked up as he sat down and snorted.

"You look pathetic," he said, turning back to his book.

Harry looked down at his clothing. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" He shot back, feeling highly insulted. He thought he looked pretty good tonight, actually.

"It's not the clothing, Potter," Malfoy drawled. "It's you. You look like a dog left out in the rain."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Malfoy continued, still not looking up from his book. "That if you don't want to upset the girl Weasley's plans of hooking you up with Mr. Right, you're going to have to at least try to look like you're not waiting to crawl into a hole and die."

Harry stared at him, his mouth open.

"Oh come on, Potter, you really think I didn't know?" Malfoy looked up with a sneer. "I'm not an idiot, unlike two people I could name. Although perhaps their temporarily besotted state could excuse them from seeing two feet in front of their nose."

Harry's jaw moved up and down uselessly. He had no words. "And?" he managed finally.

"And what?" Malfoy said with a shrug. "Your woeful attempts to change the subject whenever we strayed anywhere near the topic of dating were pissing me off. You know I know, and now we can move onto my unshakable mirth at the girl Weasley's attempts to set you up with someone whose idea of a good time is to butt heads and then snog it off."

The fact that Harry had made a similar complaint to Ginny when they left Gusto's did not prevent him from feeling indignant on Ginny's behalf. She was trying her best. "She means well," he said.

Malfoy snorted. "She is incapable of recognising another person's point of view," he said.

This time Harry snorted. Before he could say anything, the fire flared green and Ginny stepped through. She nodded to Malfoy and eyed Harry up and down critically.

"Good," she said with a smile. "Hey, before we go, could you fix up the zipper on my dress? I think it's caught."

Harry nodded and followed her into the kitchen. "It looks fine," he said, looking closely at the zipper on her slim black dress.

Ginny turned around and stepped in close to him. For a panicked second, Harry thought she was going to kiss him. Then he realised she was only whispering.

"I think we should invite Malfoy," Ginny said in a voice so low he had to bend down to hear it.

He frowned at her. "Really?" he asked, just as quietly.