Ginny sat at the table with the book wide open, sucking mindlessly on a candy cane. The library was virtually empty, besides the occasional first year scuttling in and out with a book or two. Madam Pince was running off somewhere in the castle since Dumbledore needed all the help he could get now, what with all the Death Eaters popping up around every corner. Ginny wouldn’t be surprised at the least if a bloody Death Eater popped up in the loo while you were taking a leak. Well, maybe a little.

Ginny turned the page of the book, still sucking on her candy cane. Her eyes grazed lazily away from the book and towards the window, which was revealing a picturesque surrounding of falling snow and a frozen lake. The forest was covered with a nice blanket of snow, which added to the whole winter wonderland feeling.

Sighing, Ginny shut the book with a small snap and walked over to the window. She looked out at it, her candy cane still in her mouth, now a sharp point at the end. She stabbed herself in the cheek and bit back a scream.

No students ran the grounds, throwing snowballs at each other or laughing at the good times. No; they were all gone. Holidays. She was probably the only student left... well besides Hermione and maybe a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Her and Hermione were kept back for Order duty with the staff; watch over the school. The only ones left...

Well, besides Malfoy, who Ginny suspected was left back to make sure the Death Eaters popoed out of the loos at the precise moment.

Ginny clenched her teeth and took deep breaths. Bloody Malfoy! I hate him so much... I wish I could just - Her thoughts were cut off by a drawling voice behind her.

“Hello.”

Ginny jumped, her candy cane falling from her mouth, and turned to see - of course - Draco Malfoy. He wore a simple black sweater and grey slacks; his arms crossed lazily across his chest and his hair fell in front of his cool eyes.

Ginny only glared and turned away.

“Thanks,” Draco replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“There is plenty more room in this library, Malfoy,” she said coldly, staring back out the window. “Move somewhere else.”

Draco didn’t only not reply to her statement, but he ignored it completely. “What are you eating?”

“A candy cane,” she replied, feeling irritated. Why isn’t he leaving?

“Oh,” was his simple reply.

She heard a shuffle of feet and a scraping chair. Her heart fluttered momentarily and then settled back to normal. Then she heard the clear thump of a book being opened. She spun around, taking one giant step and grabbed the book from Draco’s hands. “Don’t!” she hissed, shoving the book in her bag.

But Draco had seen the cover. He looked at her sideways, grinning. “Every Girls Teen Guide to Sex?”

Ginny flushed a deep crimson, clutching her bag close to her chest. “Oh, help me,” she muttered into her satchel as Draco cackled.

“Practicing your skills for Potter, are you?” Draco inquired, leaning his elbows on the table.

“No!” Ginny snapped indignantly, now very hot in the face. “It’s for... me.”

Draco’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, so you’re into pleasuring yourself, then?”

“Where are you getting all these ideas from?” Ginny shrieked, her face blushing even more if it was possible.

Draco knew he had hit a nerve and he laughed. “The book, maybe...”

“Shove it up your arse, Mal-ferret,” Ginny hissed.

“Hoo - hoo! Feisty much?” Draco sneered.

“Whatever... now, if you would be so kind - leave!” Ginny seethed through clenched teeth.

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment. “Nah... I prefer being nasty, if you know what I mean.” Draco grinned and winked.

“Disgusting,” Ginny spat, making a face.

Draco laughed, his head falling back gracefully. Ginny took note of his strong, handsome jaw and the way his eyes glistened in the light... Ginny shook her head roughly, clearing her mind. She shoved the thought into her mind that Draco had an ugly rough jaw and his eyes were always cold and full of hatred. Nothing more.

But maybe there is something more to him then what meets the eye, said a voice very knowingly in the back of her head.

“No, there’s nothing,” Ginny said out loud.

“What did you say?” Draco asked, looking curious.

Ginny bit her lip and shook her head.

“You said something,” Draco said pointedly.

Ginny - still biting her lip till she tasted blood - still shook her head.

“Well, I’m sure it can’t be that bad!”

If I tell you I am talking to the voices in my head, I would consider that bad! Ginny thought sourly. “Not like you care,” she snipped, turning away.

“It seems that I do,” he replied.

“Just shove it up - ” Ginny began, but Draco finished off her sentence.

“ - my arse, I know.” Draco grinned slyly. “Sheesh, Weaselette, could you honestly think of something new to try cut me down with?”

“Not like you have the best comebacks either!” pointed out Ginny rather heatedly.

Draco flashed a smile.

“Oh, you are just so perfect, aren’t you?” Ginny spat, her face grow hotter. “Junior Malfoy - Death Eater in training - Descendant of the Dark Lord - ”

“Actually, no.” Malfoy stopped in her in mid-sentence, raising his finger for silence.

Ginny was left with her mouth open like a gaping fish for a moment and then confusion and anger replaced her features. “What? You aren’t a Malfoy now?”

“Well, of course I’m still a Malfoy, Weasel. But I am not a Death Eater in training or the Dark Lord’s descendant... as you like to put it,” Draco explained, leaning back in his chair with the ease that he knew he had domination over bloody everything.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Right, I forgot. You’re a full-fledged Death Eater now! Sorry, your majesty...” Ginny bowed, rolling her hand as she did so.

“Cute, Weasley... cute.”

Ginny looked up to see Draco smiling broadly at her. “What?”

“You have excellent taste in under garments,” he commented.

“MALFOY!” she screamed, scrambling up and covering her chest with her fumbling fingers.

“It was a compliment,” Draco stated in defense.

“I know, but...”

“But?”

“You shouldn’t - or it seems you wouldn’t - be saying those sort of things to me. Aren’t those left for your floozies?” Ginny asked quietly, as though one Draco’s girls would jump her.

“Floozies? Where did they come from?”

“Don’t play innocent with me! Everyone knows about your little ‘outgoings’. My brother and Hermione both do rounds with you, Malfoy, and they tell all.”

“And where is the proof?” questioned Draco.

Ginny was taken back by the question. “I believe what they say...”

Draco shook his head. “You can’t go on believing what people say all your life.”

“Are you giving me advice?” Ginny laughed.

Draco shrugged. “Maybe.”

A comfortable - somehow - silence fell upon the two as Ginny tried to comprehend if Draco was giving her advice or just teasing her in another way and Draco studied his hair in the window.

“Well, it has been fun and I would love to stay - not - but I have other places to be,” Draco rose from his seat and stretched.

“Going to see if the Death Eaters came in the loo?” Ginny giggled absent-mindedly.

Draco turned around, a questioning look on his face. “Huh?”

“Oh, nothing.” Ginny smiled to herself as Draco walked away.

It was very early in the morning when Draco woke up. The sun hadn’t even thought of rising from behind the trees and the stars still twinkled dully in the sky. Tossing and turning, he couldn’t sleep, for he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Or was it anticipation? He couldn’t tell.

Grumbling, he rolled off his bed with a loud and hurtful thump onto the stone floor. “BLOODY HELL!” he screamed, holding his head, which he had hit on the floor. Pushing himself off the floor, Draco stumbled over to the water basin and began washing his face and hands. He looked into the mirror to see his beautiful blonde hair coated with warm, sticky blood.

“Oh, great,” mumbled Draco, cupping his hands into the water and washing his hair. “Right in the morning.”

Pushing away from the dresser, he walked over to his trunk and began pulling out the clothes for the day when something hit his shoulder. He looked over. It was a large glob of something dark. Touching it, he gasped. It was his blood.

He rushed over to the mirror and touched his cut, wincing. He picked up the wand, muttered a healing spell, but the blood only came out faster. He cursed, looking around.

Grabbing an old shirt, he ripped off a piece and wrapped it around his head. He started to feel light-headed as he slammed open the door to his dormitory and rushed down the steps into the common room. He wavered as he walked past the plush chairs, his bare feet growing colder on the floor.

I need help, but who’s here that can help me? Draco asked himself as he sprinted down the hall, holding the cloth to his head. He could feel the blood seeping through.

Running through the halls blindly, Draco searched for someone - anyone, at this point - to help him with the rampant bleeding.

Just as he arrived on Third Floor, he stopped and leaned against a wall. He panted heavily and pressed the cloth to his head harder, which proved useless, since the cloth was now soaked through. He looked down the hall, left and right, hoping for someone to come by him.

His eyes fluttered shut and he was leaning very close to the floor. Echoed footsteps were heard somewhere in the distance. “Help me!” Draco cried, hoping that the unknown person would hear. “Please help!”

He heard the footsteps stop for a moment and then began to jog in his direction.

Draco’s eyes opened for a moment to see a pair of feet produce in front of him and a shrill voice from above. “Bloody hell! Malfoy?” was all Draco heard before he blacked out.

- - -
“Don’t do that!”

“He’s my patient, I will do whatever I want!”

“You and your silly Muggle tactics. Just bloody heal him!”

“I tried that already, but it didn’t work.”

“And why not? It’s not a magical cut, is it?”

“I don’t think so. Madam Pomfrey would have to verify that. I’m only a Healer in training. It seems like it isn’t, but we can’t be to sure.”

“I see.”

“Well, it is four in the morning and there isn’t anyone in the Slytherin Common Room that I know of. Just probably a slip. A really bad one.”

“Well, no kidding!”

There was an exasperated sigh when Draco’s eyes fluttered open to see a pair of gentle hands holding something cold onto his head. He spotted a flick of red hair as the sound of footsteps retreated.

“Where the hell am I?” Draco demanded loudly, sitting up suddenly. Above him stood Hermione Granger, a damp cloth sagging from her hands. She beamed and her head snapped over to a corner, where someone muttered and she just clicked her tongue. She turned her attention back to the confused Draco.

“Oh, good! You’re awake!” cried Hermione, looking gleeful and pushing Draco to lay back down again.

“Whoopee,” mumbled the someone from the corner.

“See, Ginny? I told you it would work!” giggled Hermione, looking even more ecstatic.

Ginny stepped out of the shadows, rolling her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Where the hell am I?” Draco demanded again, wanting answers. He pushed the blanket off of his chest, but Hermione just pushed it back up.

“Gryffindor common room,” replied Hermione, bustling around the common room, rifling through an assortment of things.
“What?” he screamed and fell back, his head pounding furiously. “Oh hell...”

“Here, take this,” said Hermione, jabbing a white pill and water under his nose.

“What’s this?” Draco asked, eyeing the pill curiously, as though it were some foreign disease.

“Aspirin. Muggle medicine,” Hermione placed the white pill in his hand and stood back.

Draco threw it to the ground. “I am not taking Muggle medicine!”

“Look, Malfoy, I could have bloody left you on the Third Floor to bleed to death! I took you in and Hermione’s been nursing you, so be bloody grateful, you little ferret!” Ginny spat, pointing an angry finger at him.

Draco glared at her and stood up. “I’m leaving.”

Hermione pushed him down again, giving him a disapproving glare. “Oh, no you’re not! That was a serious cut and we have to find a spell to heal it!”

“Look, I’d rather bleed to death then be helped by a Mudblood and a hick Weasley, alright?” Draco said, standing up and stretching. He noticed that Ginny’s eyes drifted from his face and down his body. He smirked, satisfied - even though she would scream and yell at him, she still couldn’t resist him.

“A thank you would have been nicer,” muttered Ginny, stepping towards him. She held her breath for a second before yelling again. “You are such an ignorant jerk!”

“Likewise,” Draco said, walking around her.

“Likewise! Ha!” laughed Ginny, turning around to face his retreating back. “I am way nicer than you are!”

“And you would know?” said Draco, rolling his eyes.

“Because the only thing that comes out of the damned mouth of yours is insults!” screamed Ginny, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Draco looked over his shoulder at Ginny, who looked like a flaming fire-cracker ready to explode. She clenched her teeth and her hands, now resting on her hips, pulled her blue nightie across her chest tightly. Draco grinned to himself - no matter who it was, he couldn’t resist a woman’s curves.

“And the only thing that comes out of your mouth is either inaudible or completely stupid,” drawled Draco, pushing the thought of Ginny being alluring out of his mind. He turned around and leaned against the wall. “A perfect Weasley, if I say so myself. Don’t you agree, Granger?”

“See my point! See. My. Point!” Ginny yelled, turning to Hermione, who now looked irritated. “He is so damn conceited, thinking he rules everyone! Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but you don’t rule anything!”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Stop acting like two year olds!” Hermione ordered, causing both Draco and Ginny to look at her. “Ginny, just go to bed or something! Draco, you sit back on the damn couch so I can heal you!”

“Oh, no! I am not leaving you with this snide, cunning ferret! I am staying right here!” Ginny fell down into a chair and kept her eyes on Draco, eyebrows furrowed.

“Fine,” sighed Hermione. “Draco, sit.”

“No,” said Draco, turning away.

“Yes! You are my patient!” ordered Hermione. “And stop acting like you’re a child!”

“I’m not your patient!” hissed Draco, reaching for his wand.

“To hell you are!” cried Hermione, her wand out before Draco realized. “Expalliramus!”

Draco’s wand flew out of his hand and into Hermione’s. She threw it to Ginny, who caught it and shoved it behind her. “Sit,” hissed Hermione, her finger pointing to the couch.

Muttering under his breath, Draco sat down on the couch and leaned back to let Hermione inspect his wound. “Just... just don’t press too hard,” he whispered, making sure that Ginny wouldn’t hear.

“I’ll try not to,” Hermione whispered back.

“You’ll try not to what?” asked Ginny feverishly, sitting up in her chair.

“Not to hurt Malfoy,” replied Hermione, humming as she bandaged Draco’s head.

Draco glared at her.“You little Mud - ” started Draco, but he was met with a wand in between his eyes.

“Don’t you dare finish that word!” seethed Ginny, holding the wand tighter against Draco’s forehead.

Great, I might die at the hands of Weasley with my own wand! But, Draco laughed. “I’ve always liked a challenge, Weaselette.”

She pushed the wand into his forehead, teeth bared. “Same here.”

“Go on,” said Draco, staring into her eyes and grinning maliciously. “Do it. Hex me, I don’t feel pain...” he added in a voice barely above a whisper.

Ginny’s angered features fell, but the wand was still positioned at his head. “What do you mean? Everyone feels pain.”

“I have become, shall we say, immune to it.” Draco smiled playfully. “After all, I am a Death Eater, aren’t I?”

“Ginny! For Merlin’s sake, put that wand down! What if you did something horrible to him?” screamed Hermione, who had been busying herself with a concoction of Muggle remedies, hoping the fight would pass over. Of course, this was a Malfoy and a Weasley here and they wouldn’t just end with simple words. She dropped the bottle, which broke and splattered on the floor, and ran over to the fighting two, pulling away Ginny’s wand.

“Not like it would have been a great loss,” Ginny spat, her anger back again.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Hermione pushed Ginny away. But Ginny was quick: flicking her wand to Draco’s legs, she muttered a quick incantation, which sent a yellow stream of light towards his legs. Draco let out a horrible scream of pain as the light wrapped his legs, causing some sort of shock inside his legs. Screaming, Hermione waved her hands to stop as Draco began flailing his legs to get rid of the increasing pain.

“GINNY! YOU’RE HURTING HIM!” cried Hermione, tears verging in her eyes. “STOP IT AT ONCE!”

Ginny lifted the curse, and smiled in satisfaction and the seething Draco permitted, followed by agonized groans. He rolled his stomach, burying his face in the pillow and letting the tears fall from his eyes as he wished the after shock away.

“Seems you do feel pain, Malfoy. You are only human,” Ginny whispered in his ear before walking away. Draco peered over to the couch to watch her swagger up the stairs, flipping her fiery hair over her shoulder before disappearing. He moaned, falling back into the pillow.

Hermione rushed over to Draco, kneeling down beside him and pulling back his hair as he turned to face her. “Are you all right?”

“Do I look it?” hissed Draco, squeezing his eyes shut. If he concentrated hard enough, maybe this nightmare would be over...

“Oh,” she walked away, took a bowl of water and a rag. She dipped the rag into the bowl, wrung out the excess and began wetting his forehead. “Don’t give her a reason to hurt you.”

“Who said it hurts?”

Hermione gave him a look and he sighed. “Fine, alright. I’ll remember for next time. What makes her so touchy anyway? Wasn’t she always the quiet the one?”

Hermione dipped the rag into the bowl again, and wetted Draco’s brow. “Was. After Harry left her for some stupid Veela, she has been very emotional. Trying to win him back and all that,” Hermione shook her head sadly.

“That would explain the book...” muttered Draco, brushing away the wet rag.

“What book?” inquired Hermione, standing up and putting the rag into the bowl.

Draco shrugged and turned his back to Hermione. He heard shuffling feet, a quill scribbling and footsteps walking away, more then likely ascending up the stairs.

After he heard the click of the dormitory door shut, he rolled onto his back and sat up. He pulled back the blanket they had supplied and took a look at his legs. They looked as though a cat had scratched his legs raw. At seeing the sight, he nearly fainted. It hurt like nothing before, that was for sure. Trickles of blood dripped from the cuts, staining the couch. Malfoys don’t feel pain, he repeated the words of his father had said over and over in his head as he lay back down.

“But I do,” mumbled Draco, watching the sun finally rise, blinking behind the trees happily.