Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn’t mine.

A/N: This story is dedicated to the most awesomest gal I know! KEIR I LOVE YOU FOR GIVING ME THIS IDEA!!! I hope you enjoy the story, hun, and for all you other readers reading I hope you enjoy it too!

Ginny didn’t think her life could get any worse. Not only was she stuck doing detention in the dungeons, but she was also stuck doing detention in the dungeons with Draco Malfoy of all people. Yes, as highly improbable as it was that the two of them were caught conveniently at the same time doing something wrong by Snape, and therefore were forced to be in the same room together for their detention, it was the truth.

She cast a scowl at the handsome boy lounging on the chair near her, his legs propped on the desk and his arms resting behind his head as he tilted precariously on the chair legs. His grey eyes glinted down at her mockingly, and he even started humming an annoying tune, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk at her obvious frustration. She threw the scrubbing brush down into the bucket, soapy water sloshing everywhere and splashing at her face, and felt her anger bubbling even more to the surface. She was always rather volatile, but seeing him sitting there on his rich, pompous butt, watching her with that lazy smirk while she scrubbed the cauldrons they were both supposed to be cleaning just made her want to scream, or choke him, or maybe throw the cauldron at his head. Ah, so many pleasant possibilities…

“Chop, chop, Weasley,” Draco drawled, still watching her lazily with that smirk on his annoying, pale, pointy face. “You’ve still got twenty cauldrons to go.”

Ginny took a deep breath and even tried counting to ten. She got to five and gave up, however; instead, choosing to glare fierily at him, her eyes narrowing into furious slits. That cauldron was looking pretty darn tempting right now, and she thought it would look very nice on his head. Too bad she didn’t think she could lift it.

“You’re supposed to be helping too!” she exclaimed in frustration, wishing rather than hoping that he might actually listen to her. The smarmy git’s head was shoved so far up his behind that she doubted he listened to any thing else besides his own voice. He was such an arrogant, conceited prat that it was impossible to get through to him.

“But you’re doing such a good job.” He smiled in annoying way, his eyes once more glinting mockingly at her, and then he settled himself more comfortably on the chair, not showing any sign of moving from his languid pose. Ginny glared at him for a moment, her hands clenching into fists as her face got redder and redder. Anyone else might have wisely chosen to not taunt her any more, but Draco was always oblivious to the danger he was in and merely started humming again.

Not quite trusting herself to speak, Ginny once more picked up the scrubbing brush in her hands and started furiously scrubbing at the disgusting, smelly cauldrons, imagining each one to be the boy’s face, and taking particular delight in picturing his pale skin being rubbed raw with her brush. He’d look like the pig he was then, all pink and squealing.

Speaking of squeals, who had made that very unmanly shriek? She turned around and spotted Draco no longer sprawled out on his chair, but was surprised to see him lying on the ground, where he had obviously fallen, and desperately trying to get back to his feet again, all the while squealing in a very undignified and un-Malfoy-ish way. She blinked and felt her lips quiver slightly. He looked ridiculous, and not at all like the arrogant, stuck up boy she was used to seeing.

“Malfoy, what are you doing?”

Draco only wriggled a bit more, shrieking in a voice much higher than his usual drawl, “Get it off, get it off! Oh get it away!”

“Get what off?” Ginny asked blankly, her brow creasing into a frown. It was then that she saw a bald tailed (and very tiny) brown mouse go scrabbling over the boy’s chest. He froze in horror, his eyes bugging slightly, and then leapt off the ground in amazing speed, wriggling around on the spot to make it look like he was doing a very odd dance. The mouse, meanwhile, had taken refuge in his robe, and this seemed to cause Draco even more distress (and Ginny much more laughter), as he started running around like a headless chicken, all the while fretting and demanding Ginny to get the beast off him.

“Beast? It’s only a mouse,” Ginny said through giggles, still not able to believe that Draco Malfoy was scared of mice, let alone such a wee one as that. He seemed to be sincere with his fear though, and was now attempting to pull off his robe in the hopes of getting it away from him. That didn’t seem to do much, as the little mouse seemed determined not to be flung recklessly with the heavy robe, and had decided to escape into his pants instead. Ginny saw his eyes widen in horror, and he let out his most girlish shriek yet as he started fumbling with his belt, determined to keep the mouse away from his family jewels. That really did alarm Ginny, she having no desire to be faced with a naked Malfoy. Ugh, talk about bad images. He was already haphazardly clothed with his shirt half undone thanks to the buttons being pulled off in his haste, and she didn’t need to see any more of that pasty flesh thank you.

“Malfoy, just stay still!” Ginny ordered, coming over to him with steely determination.

“I’m trying,” Draco gritted out, his eyes snapping towards her in frustration. “It’s just pretty hard with a mouse playing happy molester in my pants.”

Too much information, Ginny thought with a cringe, but sucked up her natural feelings of revulsion and stopped in front of him. “Alright, where is the mouse?”

“Do you really want to know?” Draco asked with an agitated moan as he wriggled again at whatever the mouse was doing to him. Ginny decided she didn’t really want to know, and was saved the trouble of having to get it out of his pants herself, as Draco finally managed to get his buckle undone and without preamble dropped his pants so he was just in his boxers and half open shirt. “Get out of the way!” he yelled hastily, and pushed her roughly away from him, making a mad dash to the table and jumping up on it with surprising speed, to stand very stiffly and fearfully, his grey eyes watching the ground for any sign of his mouse molester.

“Ugh, there it is!” he pointed at the ground, and Ginny turned to see the mouse come running out from the foot of his trousers and go scrabbling across the ground, beady eyes darting about fearfully.

“Kill it! Kill it!” Draco shrieked, his arms hugging his body and his eyes wildly watching the little creature’s progress.

“Merlin, Malfoy, you’re such a wimp,” Ginny scolded, but whipped out her wand all the same. She aimed it at the small mouse and muttered a stunning spell, watching as the mouse keeled over unconscious. “There. Now come down of that table and stop being such an idiot.”

He looked ridiculous up there, fretting to himself over one little mouse; besides, she was finding it rather annoying having to look at him wearing so little clothing. He could at least have the decency to put more clothes on so she could save her eyesight from his blinding skin. Of course, if it were any other girl she’d be swooning in ecstasy, but Ginny was not one of those insipid females, and while she did have to grudgingly admit that Draco had a nice body, that didn’t mean she was going to drool over it. Anyway, his cowering over a mouse ruined any sexiness he might have held.

Draco, meanwhile, was not satisfied with it just being unconscious. “What if it’s not really unconscious? What if it’s just tricking me so I’ll come down?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and stomped over to the mouse, picking it up by the tail and dangling it in front of him. “Look, it’s unconscious, see?” She waved it to and fro by its tail to prove her point.

Draco edged back in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t wave that thing at me!”

“Look, would you just come down and put some bloody clothes on? Anyone could walk in, and I don’t know if you’ve realised, but it looks like you’re about to start a strip tease for me. All you need is a pole and you’d be set.”

His smirk came back into play, and his eyes lit up with that arrogant little smile she oh-so-hated. “Temptation too much for you Weasley?”

Ginny snorted derisively. “You wish, Malfoy.”

He stepped down onto the chair and then onto the floor, moving towards her with slow purposefulness, lazy smirk firmly in place. “See, now I think you’re in denial. I think you were secretly hoping I’d take it all off for you.”

Just when she thought he couldn’t get any more egotistical. Well, it seemed he was just full of surprises today.

Raising an eyebrow and giving a small smirk of her own, Ginny threw the mouse at him and received much satisfaction in hearing him let out another girlish shriek as he swiped at his chest and leapt back, the mouse dropping with a thud between them.

“You’re right, Malfoy,” Ginny said with a grin. “The temptation was too great- temptation to laugh at you that is. You didn’t honestly expect me to fall for your ‘big seductive act’ after I just saved you from a mouse?”

He glared at her, and picked up his pants from the ground. “No need to rub it in, Weasley.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Ginny said sweetly, her eyes dancing mischievously. “Should I be more understanding of your irrational fear of mice? Never mind the fact that they’re harmless?”

“Ha, Ha, Weasley,” Draco deadpanned sarcastically, now pulling on his pants and nearly falling over in the process. “You can’t tell me that you’re not scared of something stupid too. Everyone has at least one irrational fear, and yes I know that mice can’t hurt me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared of them.” His eyes narrowed and he suddenly glared angrily at her. “By the way, you’re not to mention this to anyone!”

Ginny promised she wouldn’t tell a soul, but her dancing eyes belied her words, telling him all too well that she was far from keeping to her word. She was already thinking of the great amusement she would get in telling her friends that Draco Malfoy was scared of mice, and he seemed to follow her train of thought, because he started glaring at her suspiciously again.

“You’d better not, Weasley, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ginny taunted, taking a step towards him and staring up at him with a smirk that rivalled even his own on her face. “Squeal at me?”

She saw his eyes narrow, and her lips curved even more into a mocking smile. Oh, she had all the ammunition she needed now to make Draco Malfoy do whatever she wanted, and she was going to make sure she got him to do it too.

“Maybe you should give me an incentive not to tell? You could start by scrubbing those cauldrons.”

He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. Glaring at her suddenly, he pointed an accusing finger at her face. “You can’t blackmail me! You Gryffindors are supposed to be goody-goods.”

Ginny snorted and tossed her red hair over her shoulder. “Even Gryffindors can play dirty, and you’d best start brushing up on your domestic skills, or else I might just let slip at breakfast tomorrow on how high your voice can really go when faced with a mouse. You sure you’re all man down there, Malfoy? Because I’m beginning to have my doubts.”

Looking highly offended that his manliness was being questioned, Draco glared at her huffily and was all ready to drop his pants and prove that he was all man, but Ginny caught on just in time and hastily grabbed his hands away, keeping them firmly from dropping it all down. She did not need to see that.

“Merlin, Malfoy, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you wanted to get naked for me,” Ginny exclaimed angrily, her face flushing.

“You should know you never insult a man’s manliness. It’s just not right.”

“Whatever,” Ginny said with a roll of her eyes, and planted herself on Draco’s now unoccupied chair. “Get scrubbing, Malfoy. You’ve got eighteen cauldrons to go.”

He glared at her for a moment and then sat down on the ground, picking up the soapy brush and looking at it through narrowed eyes before glaring at the cauldron. Ginny could see him looking very grumpy, and as he gave a half-hearted scrub on the cauldron, heard him sigh and then drop the brush back in the bucket. He couldn’t even last for one cauldron? He really was a wimp.

“I can’t do this, Weasley. It’s just not right. A Malfoy does not follow a Weasley’s orders.”

“Well you’d better learn, Malfoy, otherwise the whole school is going to learn about your little secret.”

He stood up and walked over to her, eyeing her darkly through his grey eyes. “You think you’re so smug sitting there, don’t you?”

Ginny glanced about the room and then brought her eyes back to him, a decidedly smug smile on her lips. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well you haven’t won yet, little Weasel.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow questioningly, watching him with an amused expression on her face. “Face it, Malfoy. You’ve got no dirt on me to give me an incentive not to tell the whole school about this little episode, and believe me I will tell.”

He shook his head, a dark smirk on his face. “Ah, but you forgot one thing.”

“What?” Ginny said with a frown.

“I’m a Slytherin.”

Her face puckered into a frown, and before she could even realise what was happening his lips were against hers, pressing forcefully, but pleasantly into them. She was so shocked she forgot to feel disgusted, and indeed was so shocked (or at least that was what she told herself later) that she even started kissing him back… that was until she realised something was wriggling in the front her robe. It felt warm and furry, and had little paws that tickled across the bare skin on her chest. Letting out a shriek, Ginny broke away from Draco, who was now laughing, and reached her hand down her robe to bring out the same mouse she had stupefied before, which had clearly woken up and was now wriggling in her hand.

“YOU!” Ginny screeched furiously at Draco, who only smirked in an annoying way at her.

“What’s the matter, Weasley?” he asked innocently, grey eyes gleaming with amusement. “It’s only a mouse.”

Ginny did the only thing she could do. She threw it back at him, and once more the unmanly shrieking began all over again.

The End.

A/n: So, a little random, but it was just for some light-hearted fun. Thanks again to Keir who suggested the idea of Draco being scared of mice.