Draco Malfoy was wandering aimlessly through the halls of Hogwarts. He had been doing this a lot lately. Just walking. He didn’t have a destination or a reason to walk around. Most of the time he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Times like now. His mind was wandering, too. He didn’t see the rooms he was passing or the curious stares he was getting from the other students. He was just walking. Not even thinking any actual thoughts. He bounced from subject to subject with no real order or pattern.

He had been this way ever since the previous year, when he had refused to kill Dumbledore for the Dark Lord. Well, technically, he hadn’t refused. You don’t just say no to Lord Voldemort, after all. He just hadn’t obeyed.

Lucius Malfoy had been livid. A Death Eater himself, he had wanted his only son to follow in his footsteps. A command to kill someone straight from the Dark Lord, in Lucius’ eyes, was the best thing his son could hope to receive.

But Draco hadn’t done it. He had been tempted, of course. The Dark side had a lot to offer. But, in the end, he couldn’t. He wasn’t evil. He couldn’t just kill another person, no matter how much he disliked him.

That summer had been miserable. Lucius had hardly spoken to his son, except to tell him how disappointed he was. What a failure he’s become. Narcissa Malfoy had fretted constantly. She was convinced that Lord Voldemort would come after Draco now.

He hadn’t, of course. The Dark Lord had more important things to worry about than the disappointing sons of Death Eaters. Destroying Potter and taking over the wizarding world were the dearest things to his heart. Or rather, where his heart would be, if he had one.

Professor Snape, after killing Dumbledore when it became apparent that Draco would not, had fled the school and been returned to a place of honor at the Dark Lord’s side. He now held the position of Headmaster at Hogwarts. Lucius took great pleasure in reminding Draco that “it could have been you”.

I don’t want it to be me, Draco thought to himself miserably. I want my own power. Not be subservient forever to some half-human Lord! But how do you tell your father that you don’t agree with his ideas and would rather not join forces with him? That sort of thing didn’t come in handbooks.

Draco wasn’t sure what he wanted, anyway. On the one hand, he didn’t want to fight for evil, but did he necessarily want to fight for good? Voldemort was powerful, to be sure, and Draco didn’t relish the idea of being against him. Self-preservation was extremely important to him, as a Slytherin.

But what, then? You can’t stay neutral in a war like this for long. Eventually he would have to choose a side. Everyone would.

This whole thing with the Dark Lord had Draco rethinking everything. What purpose was anything anymore?

If you worked for the Dark Lord, you were completely his. A servant. Only a step above the Muggles Voldemort wanted to control. Ever part of your life was dictated to you in order to further his means. He was the one who would get all of the power out of a victory. He was the one people would remember. Not his group of faceless Death Eaters.

If you were against him, every minute was filled with worry and uncertainty. Never knowing if this was to be your last day. Would Voldemort be around that corner? Behind that tree?

No one was safe anymore. Draco had seen the Dark Lord kill a Death Eater in the same way he’d killed a Muggle. He had no respect of persons. Only power mattered. Only the ability to control the people.

Draco sighed, then glanced around in surprise. “What?” he said to the empty corridor. Once again, he had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there. He didn’t remember even leaving the common room. He began berating himself for continuously getting himself in this position.

He would have made quite a sight, had anyone been around to see it. Standing alone, in the middle of an empty hall, gaping about like an idiot, mumbling under his breath. No doubt, he would have been teased mercilessly for this.

Finally he shook his head and took note of his surroundings. 7th floor, he observed. I’m around the corner from the Room of Requirement. He took out his watch and checked the time.

He cursed in frustration. It was past curfew. Naturally. Nothing ever went wrong on its own. It all had to come in twos and threes. Lucky I didn’t run into any teachers. That would have been brilliant. A detention in my first couple of weeks back at school.

Doubting he would be lucky enough to make it back to the Slytherin common room so easily, he directed his steps in the direction of the Room of Requirement. He walked past the empty wall three times, thinking carefully, I need a place to sleep.

The door appeared, and Draco pushed it open. He suddenly realized how tired he was. The door felt like it weighed a ton and his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. It took a lot of extra energy to get inside than usual.

He sighed and pulled his robes tighter around himself. It was kind of cold in the room. Why isn’t the fire going? he wondered absently.

He was halfway across the room before he saw her. She was laying on the couch, directly in front of the fireplace. Her robes were twisted around her legs and her red hair fanned out over the pillow. A book lay abandoned in her lap. One hand covered the book; her knuckles were bruised and scratched with a bit of dried blood under her fingernails.

Ginny Weasley! his thoughts screamed. Why does she have to be in here now?

He started to turn around and leave, but something made him stop. Maybe it was just the sheer exhaustion, or that he didn’t want to run into any professors. He didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t want to leave. It was late and he was tired. All he wanted to do was sleep.

He looked around the room to see what had been provided. He didn’t see another couch, but there was an armchair next to the dying fire, and, without taking his eyes from the Weasley girl, Draco quietly moved toward it. He sat down cautiously and was glad to find that it the chair was comfortable. Well, it was better than nothing, at least.

He studied Ginny’s face for a minute. She was actually kind of pretty, in a wild sort of way, when she was asleep. Her mouth formed a soft smile, as if she were having good dreams. Suddenly realizing what he was thinking, that he was actually admiring her, Draco sat rigid in his chair and shook his head.

This is Weasley, here! he told himself sternly. Then he noticed the way her eyelashes brushed her cheeks and the shine of her hair in the half light. It wasn’t just red, but a whole range of colours from copper to red to gold. It looked much better on her than on her brothers.

Arg! He stood up off the chair quickly, thoroughly angry with himself for his ridiculous thoughts. The chair banged backwards and crashed into the fire tools. These, in turn, fell to the floor with what seemed to Draco to be the loudest sound possible.

Ginny stirred. Oh, no! he thought wildly.

I want to thank all of those people who took time to tell me what they thought. penfold; hpfreak; jcap1526 (thanks for reviewing even though you've read it before); choravenclaw (sorry to disappoint, but no Extremely Naughty in the forseeable future); quirky_vixen; and Rosalie.

Ginny blinked groggily. She had come to the Room of Requirement to relax after her detention from Snape. She, Neville, and Luna had broken into the Headmaster's office two days earlier. Snape had caught them sneaking down the stairs with the Sword of Gryffindor. For punishment, they had been sent into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. Since they were with Hagrid, it hadn’t been too bad, of course. They’d been digging up some odd roots for Madam Pomfrey.

It had taken the entire afternoon, though. Ginny, hoping to have some time to herself, had snuck in here. Now a loud crash had startled her out of her sleep.

What was that noise? she thought. She looked around slowly for the source of the noise. Then her eyes flew wide with shock.

“Draco Malfoy?” she exclaimed. “What are you doing in here?”

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I… I was… It got late and…” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to…”

Then pulled himself up straight and seemed to pull himself together. “I was not aware that there were any restrictions on this room. It’s past curfew and I would rather not be caught out in the halls.”

Ginny tried to stand up. Her legs were wrapped rather tightly in her robes. “Why didn’t you leave when you realized I was in here?” she demanded. She glared at him, but the effect was ruined when she tumbled to the floor. “Ow!” she cried. She had landed hard on her hip. Her robes were still wrapped firmly around her.

Malfoy laughed. He apparently found this amusing.

“What’s so funny, little ferret?” Ginny yelled, her frustration building. She reached down and pulled at the hem of her robes. Her fingers were stiff and sore and she couldn’t make them grip well enough. “Oh, Merlin!”

Malfoy knelt down next to her, stifling his laugh. “May I?” he asked, indicating her legs.

She sniffed angrily, but nodded anyway. Goodness knew it would take her a while to do it herself.

He lifted her legs, much more gently than she had expected, and began to unwind the fabric. “I wouldn’t normally stoop to helping a Weasley,” he explained. “But I’d rather that than listening to you gripe for who knows how long.”

Ginny looked up at him, still grumpy and noticed that his steely eyes were twinkling. “This isn’t funny,” she huffed.

Malfoy shook his head. “It is, actually. How did you manage to get so tangled up?” He finally got her free. “There!”

“I didn’t. These things happen.” She stood up and dusted herself off. “How did you manage to knock over all of the fire tools?” she countered.

“I didn’t. These things happen,” he said, imitating her. He gave her one of his signature smirks.

“Oh, shut up, Malfoy!” Ginny cried. She grabbed her school bag, stuffed her book inside, and marched toward the door. She was limping slightly from the impact with the floor.

Malfoy caught her arm as she passed. “Weasley. It’s past curfew. You could get detention if you’re caught out there now.”

Ginny looked down at his hand. He quickly pulled it away. “I don’t want to stay in here with you! You horrible, stuck-up, self-centered little…”

“Alright! I get it,” he interrupted, throwing up his hands. “I’m evil. You hate me. But do you really want detention?”

“Of course not. But I’d rather have it than spend the night trapped in here with here with you! Since when do you care , anyway?”

Malfoy sighed heavily and looked around to see what the Room of Requirement had provided. “Look.” He pointed. “Two couches. One for you, one for me.”

“So?”

“So. You can pretend I’m not here. I’m not leaving. I certainly don’t want detention.”

Ginny spun on her heel, her robes slapping against his leg, and went to stand in front of the now-dead fire. As she passed the couch where she had been sleeping before, she threw her bag onto it.

Malfoy stood the tools upright and pulled out the poker. He moved over to the fire with it.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked, feeling just slightly nervous.

Malfoy gave her a half-hearted smile. “I’m going to stab you with it, of course. What do you think I’m going to do?” He knelt down and began stirring up the fire.

Ginny was still tense when he stood up and put away the poker. But then he yawned and realized he was probably too tired to do anything to her.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he walked over to his couch, several feet further away from the fire, and collapsed onto it, his eyes already closed. He yawned widely and she rolled her eyes. She herself could not sleep, having been woken up already. Not to mention, his presence was a little disconcerting.

Ginny had never liked Draco Malfoy, and he made it quite clear that he felt the same way about her. The prospect of being alone in the Room of Requirement with him was not a pleasant one. A whole night spent in his company was, in Ginny’s opinion, equivalent to throwing herself into a pit of Blast-Ended Skrewts.

She sighed and flopped back onto her pillows. What choice do I have? she asked herself angrily. She had already had two detentions that month, one from Miss Carrow, the other, just today, from Snape, and definitely did not want another.

The Carrows’ ideas of punishment were decidedly old-fashioned. They employed the whip on a daily basis to one student or another. At this very moment, three students were chained in one of the dungeon rooms below the school. For her last detention, Ginny had been given the Cruciatus Curse.

Across the room, Malfoy’s breathing became even and deep, indicating that he had gone to sleep. Ginny huffed. “Yeah. Rub it in. Wake me up and then just drop off like it’s nothing!” she fumed.

She yanked off her robe. “Now it’s too hot in here.” Once the robe was off, though, she quickly became cold.

“Oh, for goodness sake!” she exclaimed. “Can’t he even build a fire properly?”

“What are you on about?” he mumbled sleepily. His voice was slightly muffled by his pillow. She had woken him up, but she didn't care.

“Shut up!” Ginny snapped. She shivered and pulled her robe up over her shoulders. A minute later she growled and threw it off. It was too hot to have it on, but too cold to have it off.

“Would you like to switch couches?” Malfoy asked. “This one’s farther from the fire. You’re keeping me awake.”

“Oh, by all means. Don’t let me disturb you!” Ginny pulled the robe back up. Threw it off.

After two more rounds of this, Malfoy made a low growling noise and stomped toward her. “Get up,” he demanded shortly.

“Pardon me?”

“I’m getting tired of this. We’re switching.”

“I think not!”

Malfoy grimaced. “Oh yes. We are.”

And, with that, he bent down and lifted her up. He smelled surprisingly good. A rich, spicy scent that was hard to name. Ginny found herself momentarily sidetracked by it.

“Draco Malfoy! Put me down this instant!” Ginny screamed, regaining control of herself. She tensed up every muscle in her body. Why did I put my wand in my bag? she berated herself.

Up this close, Ginny noticed that Malfoy’s skin looked even paler than usual and he had dark circles under his eyes. She felt a rush of compassion for him when she saw it. Shocked to find herself feeling like this all of a sudden, she pushed against his chest. “Now, Malfoy!”

Finally he deposited her on his couch. To her chagrin, she found it warm and smelling slightly like him. She jumped up to confront him, but he had already turned and gone back to the couch by the fire. Frustrated, she collapsed back down again, preparing for an incredibly long night.

Draco sighed and shook his head as he settled on the couch. This girl was exasperating! She had a temper to boot!

Inexplicably, Draco found himself laughing. She may be a Weasley, and an annoying one at that, he told himself, but she’s got spunk. She’s fun to tease. Always rises to the challenge. Sighing again, he rolled over and stared into the fire.

Across the room, Ginny was still fuming. He could hear her muttering under her breath and hitting the pillows rather harder than necessary. He could feel her shooting angry looks at his back.

Draco frowned. Why did I pick her up? he mused. Normally I would have just pushed her onto the floor. He shoved his hand through his hair in frustration. I’m just over-tired. That’s all. He could still feel her warmth on his arms and against his chest where she had pressed those tiny hands.

The thoughts did nothing to comfort him, though. They only reminded him of the moment she had noticed his face. Her big brown eyes had softened to reveal something not unlike pity. Then they had widened and she began struggling again.

She feels pity for me, which is bad enough, he thought, but she doesn’t want to. She’s embarrassed to think of me kindly. Draco huffed and adjusted his pillow. The weasel thinks she’s better than me! Draco Malfoy!

He sighed. She had every reason to feel that way. Even though Draco had not let in the Death Eaters last year (Voldemort had gotten another boy, Augustus Mortend, to do that) and then killed Dumbledore, he had poisoned that bottle of mead at Christmas time. It was a half-hearted attempt, most of the students had no idea it was him, and Draco never tried again; but the point was, he’d done it. He had made that attempt at following the Dark Lord.

To tell the truth, Draco had been afraid. Afraid that if he didn’t do something, the Dark Lord would become angry. It was only to protect his family, who Voldemort was threatening, that he even did as much as that.

Draco looked over at Ginny. She had stopped fidgeting, and, to all appearances, was asleep. But as he watched, she opened one chocolate eye and looked at him. She harrumphed and flipped her robes around herself.

Draco smirked and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, the alarm clock on the mantle was ringing. Not ready to wake up, he squeezed his eyes tighter.

There was a rustling noise, combined with a good bit of huffing. Draco peeked out from under his robes, which he’d pulled up over his face, to see Ginny march over to the fireplace, reach up, and turn off the alarm. She then turned to face him.

Thinking he was still asleep, she watched him for a moment, her expression inscrutable. “What happened to you, Malfoy?” she whispered. She shook her head and moved to grab her school bag, which was on the floor beneath Draco’s head.

Draco pretended to stir and opened his eyes. He laughed at the startled look on her face as she jumped backwards. “What’s the matter Weasley? Afraid I might bite you?”

“I’m not afraid of ferrets,” Ginny growled at him. “I’d just rather not see one first thing in the morning.”

Really, this whole ferret thing was getting old. For Merlin’s sake, it happened three years ago! “Well, if I see one, I’ll be sure to let it know,” Draco responded dryly.

“I ought to hex you.”

“You wouldn’t dare try it.” Draco felt his eye twitch in anger.

“You’re obviously not up to a duel right now,” Ginny said calmly. “Have a rough night?”

Draco tried hard to keep his face passive. His anger was desperate to show itself. “Worried about me?” he asked casually.

“Worried about you?” She looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon. “Draco Malfoy? In your dreams!” She began shoving things in her bag (he’d knocked it over accidentally in the middle of the night).

Draco stood up and kicked her wand across the room. “Oops! Sorry!” he drawled lazily. Ginny seemed to stiffen. Her eyes stayed on him cautiously as he made his way to the door.

At the door, Draco spun with his wand extended in front of him. Ginny gasped and dived for her wand.

“Impedimenta!”

She seemed to hover for a second, her robes billowing out behind her, frozen in their movement, then fell to the floor with a thud. She scrabbled over to her wand, her bruised fingers struggling to hold on to it, causing him to wonder vaguely what had happened.

As she pointed it toward him, Draco said, “Honestly Weasley. You are too easy. If ever I wanted to really curse you, you’d be done.” With that he exited the room, leaving Ginny sprawled out clumsily on the floor.

She glared at him so that he actually felt heat on his back. “Pompous git,” he heard her mumble.

He laughed as he walked down the corridor. In the Great Hall, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy were waiting for him. Blaise Zabini was talking with a pretty fifth year girl.

“Where were you all night?” Pansy whined. “We waited and you never came!”

“Yeah,” Goyle added brilliantly.

“All night,” Crabbe repeated.

Draco slumped into his seat. “I lost track of time. It was after curfew and I had to spend the night in the Room of Requirement to avoid the teachers.”

“The teachers would never give you detention Drakie,” Pansy told him happily.

“Snape would,” Draco replied. “He’s been different to me ever since he became headmaster. It’s because I failed my task.”

Crabbe patted him on the arm, but was quickly distracted by the appearance of food on his plate.

Pansy brushed the hair off his forehead. “Let’s skip classes today, Drakie. We’ll do something fun. It’ll take your mind off of things and we’ll get to spend time together.”

Draco picked at the toast he’d just grabbed. “I’m too tired, Pansy. I’d rather just do the regular stuff.”

“But I missed you last night,” Pansy persisted, pressing her lips to his temple. “And we haven’t done anything together in ages!” Her fingers skimmed lightly up his arm.

Draco resisted the urge to pull away from his dark-haired girlfriend. The last time he’d done that, Pansy had yelled at him for three days straight. When she wasn’t yelling at him, she was whispering to anyone who would listen.

“I know, Pansy,” he said instead. “I’ve been… busy. You know that.”

Pansy gave him a look of frustration. “Yeah. I know,” she replied dully, turning to Daphne Greengrass. She didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day.

Draco shrugged in response to Crabbe and Goyle’s questioning looks. He really wasn’t that upset. He wanted to be left alone anyway. Thankfully the two boys were too dense to push the subject and turned back to their food, leaving Draco to his own thoughts.

Ginny made her way down to the Great Hall and sat carefully next to Luna Lovegood. Her hip still hurt from her fall off the couch the night before. The tumble she’d taken this morning hadn’t helped any, either. She felt it would be better to take things slow today.

“You look awful,” Luna stated in her usual dreamy way. “What happened?” Luna herself looked as if she’d just been blown in on some random wind. Her wavy blond hair was tied back in a loose tail and her radish earrings were prominently in place. Her eyes held a dreamy quality that, on anyone else, would look ridiculous. For her, it just added an air of mystery.

“A nightmare,” Ginny groaned to her friend. “In the form of Malfoy. I fell asleep in the Room of Requirement and he woke me up after curfew by knocking over a bunch of fire tools. Neither of us could leave. Another detention would have been the end of me.”

Luna smiled softly. “Sounds like you’ve been having fun.”

Ginny sighed. These last couple of months had been miserable. If only she and Harry hadn’t split up. No, they didn’t share a particularly romantic relationship, there were no true love sparks and all that, but she liked him well enough, and it was something.

No one wanted to date her now. Harry had caused a lot of trouble at Hogwarts, and anyone who had been associated with him carried a sort of taint. Even Luna received a bit of ill favour. Not that she didn’t anyway, with everyone thinking her to be nutters, but it was definitely worse now.

Ginny was pulled back to the present by Luna’s voice. She’d been talking for quite a while, but Ginny hadn’t been paying attention. “I’m sorry?” she asked.

Luna smiled knowingly. “I was just saying how much you must miss Harry.”

Ginny laughed. “How do you do that? You always seem to know what I’m thinking!” It was kind of unnerving, actually.

Luna shrugged. “You’re easy to read.” She turned back to her breakfast and took a bite.

Ginny stared at her for a minute, thinking, then asked, “Am I?” She didn’t think she was. But then, her mother always knew, and Ron even sometimes got it right, though she’d never admit it to him. And of course Luna.

“Oh, yes. Anyone could know exactly what’s on your mind. It’s written all over your face. You really should watch out for Meeraps. They’ll use it against you.”

“Oh dear.” Ginny glanced over at the Slytherin table, not even hearing Luna’s reference to Merlin only knew what creature. Malfoy was slumped down in his seat, his chin supported on his fist. If I’m so easy to read…

He did look kind of washed up, though. Even worse than before. Maybe it was just that she had become aware of it that made it so obvious, but he definitely didn’t appear to be well at all.

I don’t think I have to worry about him knowing my thoughts.

As she thought this, Malfoy glanced up and caught her eye. He gave her a sneer that looked more like a grimace. Once again, Ginny found herself feeling that strange sense of compassion. The urge to give him an encouraging smile suddenly gripped her.

I’m losing my mind! She shook her head. Just because he looks tired and helpless… Helpless?! Ginny passed her hand over her eyes. I really AM crazy!

Luna was watching her thoughtfully. “Ginny,” she cautioned. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” Ginny asked, confused.

“Showing your thoughts on your face. You look sad. For Draco Malfoy.”

Ginny forced a laugh. She knew it wasn’t very convincing, especially for someone as perceptive as Luna. “I don’t think so,” she said, not looking up from her muffin. “No. He’s just… Malfoy. I could never… never feel sorry for Malfoy.” She shook her head firmly to emphasize her point.

“I didn’t say ‘sorry’. I said ‘sad’,” Luna reminded her.

Ginny couldn’t think of anything to say. She just stared down at her hands. Luna was right, of course. She usually was. But Ginny didn’t want to confront the issue just now. Or ever, to be completely honest.

“I’ve got Herbology in ten minutes,” Luna was saying. “I’ll see you later?”

Ginny nodded, thankful for a change in subject. “I’ve got to get going as well. I have Double Potions.”

Luna wrinkled her nose daintily. “Good luck.”

Ginny smiled without humour. She glanced at Malfoy one more time to see him absently stabbing his toast with his fork repeatedly. Shaking herself mentally, she picked up her bag and slowly followed Luna out of the Hall. The two girls paused outside the door to say good-bye, then hurried off to their different classes.



##########################################################



Draco watched Ginny out of the corner of his eye. The look of pity never really left her face. She kept watching him, trying to be discreet, but failing miserably, and it was making him feel uncomfortable.

Why does the little weasel have to do that? he thought angrily. He stabbed his toast viciously, tearing a chunk out of the middle.

He watched her limp out of the Great Hall, her bag hanging loosely by her side. Her hands were swollen and red with ugly purple welts.

It’s not like she looks any better than I do. Any other day and she practically runs from room to room!

Draco pushed his plate away, having finished destroying it and finding he had no appetite. Crabbe stared at it longingly. “Have at it,” Draco told him.

The large boy dived on the food as if starving. Crumbs from the piece of toast scattered all over the table.

Pansy looked around Draco at the mess with disgust written on her face. Then she looked up at him and her expression closed up.

If only I could tell what she was thinking, I wouldn’t make her mad so often. Draco froze. What am I thinking? I don’t want her to be like Weasley. She’s bad enough the way she is. Don’t need to add anything else.

Goyle was fighting with Crabbe over the last few crumbs on the table. Blaise now had three girls around him, laughing gleefully at something he was saying. Pansy was whispering to Daphne about the latest gossip. It seemed that Draco was the only one just sitting there.

He groaned inwardly. No wonder Weasley keeps looking at me funny, he thought. I’ve got to stop acting so morose. I must look like an idiot, staring off into space while the people around me carry on.

Draco plastered a smile on his face. “C’mon,” he called to Crabbe and Goyle, “let’s get to class.”

They looked up at him blankly. They’d obviously forgotten about everything around them. “Huh?” Goyle said, his brow furrowing.

“Class,” Draco repeated, trying not to roll his eyes. His two lackeys were really incredibly dense. “We’ve got Transfiguration first thing.”

Crabbe blinked and wiped some crumbs off his chin. “Transfiguration?”

Draco felt his fake smile slipping. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Transfiguration. We don’t want to make McGonagall mad.”

The head of Gryffindor house was stern and sour-faced, and didn’t seem to like Draco much. Her temper was short-lived, and he’d been on the receiving end of her anger a few too many times.

Blaise looked up from his group of girls. “You worried about that old hag?” he asked haughtily, earning him several girlish giggles.

Professor McGonagall seemed to materialize behind the boys. “What old hag, Mr. Zabini?” she asked sternly. “And shouldn’t you boys be headed for my classroom?”

Blaise looked embarrassed as they were herded from the Great Hall.

Three days later, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle were sitting in the Three Broomsticks. It was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year and everyone was excited to visit all their favourite shops again. Even now, at ten o’clock in the morning, the Three Broomsticks was full to bursting.

Blaise twisted around in his chair, flirting with Madam Rosmerta as he did every time he was there. She was resolutely ignoring him as she did every time he was there. Crabbe and Goyle were quite entertained watching Blaise’s attempts. Though that wasn’t saying much. The two boys would have been entertained by someone hitting them in the nose.

This left Pansy and Draco to themselves. Pansy had her arms crossed over her chest and was glaring at Draco. Draco knew she expected him to be talking to her, but he had nothing to say, and frankly didn’t care what she wanted him to do.

For a couple of weeks, he had been beginning to find her dull. Her conversations usually centered around herself. And then, this last week, she had become overbearing and pushy. Well, more so than usual.

Finally Pansy seemed to snap. “Alright, Draco,” she began angrily. She never called him Draco. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Draco answered. I hate you, I hate my father, I hate this school. I’m sick of Voldemort this, Voldemort that. I’m sick of people trying to tell me how to live my life. But otherwise, nothing. How about you?

“Don’t lie to me. I know you better than that. There’s something going on. I hardly ever see you anymore; and when I do… you’re different.”

“Different? How am I different?” He didn’t suspect for an instant that anyone would have figured out how he felt. His friends, if you could call them that, didn’t care two sticks about him. Well, Blaise was a little better, but still.

Pansy rolled her eyes and began counting off her fingers, “You hardly talk. You look grumpy. You haven’t kissed me in two weeks.”

“Is that what you want? A kiss?” Draco leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. They were cold and dry, nearly making him shudder. “Better?”

“No,” Pansy said, though she did look happier. “You still look grumpy.”

Wonder why that could be, Draco thought. He gave her the biggest grin he could muster.

“You look like you’re in pain.”

Draco sighed. “I don’t know how to please you, Parkinson. Nothing’s good enough for you.”

“That’s not true!” Pansy exclaimed defensively. “You were just fine last year! None of this moody, weird stuff!” She waved her hands in the air as if gesturing to evidence that was hanging in front of her face.

Draco leaned his chair back on two legs. “Well, people change, Pansy. Maybe I’ve changed. I don’t know.”

“Changed how?” She asked nervously. Her voice held a whiny quality that grated on Draco’s nerves. She looked up at him with wide eyes and inched slightly closer.

“I don’t know.” Draco shrugged, once again resisting an urge to pull away from her. “You’re the one telling me I’m different. You tell me how I’ve changed.”

Pansy’s mouth dropped open. “Fine, Draco,” she said after a minute. “It’s clear this isn’t working. Good-bye.” She stood up and stormed out the door.

“It’s clear what isn’t working?” Draco called after her; but she either didn’t hear or just didn’t answer. He was betting on the latter.

Blaise looked around at the door, which Pansy’d slammed quite forcefully, then over at Draco. “What happened?” he asked.

Draco shrugged. “I don’t really know. We were talking, I thought it was going okay, and she got mad about something and took off. Nothing I said or did made her happy.”

Blaise hummed disinterestedly. Madam Rosmerta was walking by. He grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows up and down. He made such a ridiculous sight that Draco almost laughed along with Crabbe and Goyle. Almost.

After several minutes, he got bored just sitting there. Spotting Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass making their way down High Street, he pushed his way out of the crowded pub to join them. His three companions didn’t even notice.

“Hey!” he yelled as he caught up to them. “Where are you headed?”

Theodore looked over at him. “Er… Honeydukes,” he answered, looking slightly embarrassed. He glanced shyly at Daphne.

Daphne looked around, not paying attention to the boy, and asked, “Where’s Pansy? Usually she’s hanging off your arm like a leech. Sorry.”

Draco shrugged. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “She ran out on me, er, ten minutes ago. I don’t know where she is.”

Daphne’s green eyes grew ‘til they resembled saucers. “What d’you mean, she ran out on you?” she asked in a frantic rush.

“I mean she ran out on me. We were talking and she freaked. Said ‘this isn’t working’, and took off. I still don’t really know what happened.”

“So… you’re broken up?” Daphne fairly shrieked.

Draco hesitated. “I’m… not sure.” Pansy hadn’t actually said she didn’t want to see him anymore. He wouldn’t complain if she didn’t, except that he’d never had anyone break up with him before. He’d broken it off with many girls, but none with him. It just wasn’t done. Most of them would be more likely to kill whoever was dating him to get to him themselves.

“Ohmygoodness!” And with that, Daphne took off back up the road.

Theodore shook his head. “I know that look. This is going to be all over school by dinner.”

Draco sighed. “Probably.”

“You don’t look too worried.”

“Not really. I mean, I don’t even know what Pansy meant. Daphne doesn’t even have anything to gossip about, really.”

“And? Girls don’t need a reason. Most of the time they make it up anyway.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Good. This was just what he needed. The entire school gossiping about him. Eventually it would get back to his father that Pansy had broken up with him, and it would be one more thing for him to be mad about.

Crabbe and Goyle came out of the Three Broomsticks just then, dragging a sopping wet Blaise behind them. “Where’d ya go?” Goyle demanded, dodging a spray of brown water as Blaise shook out his hair.

“Right here,” Draco told him. “Blaise, what happened to you?”

“Ah… right,” the dark-haired boy said, looking embarrassed. “Well…er… Madam Rosmerta told me I was being ‘fresh’ and dumped a tub of dish water on my head.” As if to demonstrate, he shook his head again and wrung out his shirt, causing Crabbe to jump out of the way.

Everyone, including a couple of nearby students, laughed at this. “It’s not funny!” Blaise said, looking indignant.

Theodore pulled Draco aside. “So, what were you and Pansy talking about?” he asked in a stage whisper.

“She told me I was ‘different’. Whatever that means.”

Blaise, who had been eavesdropping, piped up, “She’s right, you know. You have been different.”

“What is this?” Draco exclaimed. It was like national Bug Draco Day. People asking him questions left and right. It was seriously starting to get on his nerves.

Theodore shrugged. “You’ve just been acting weird. Since the beginning of semester.”

Draco glanced over at Crabbe and Goyle. They were still chuckling at each other, saying things like “dish-head” and “sponge-face”. They would be no help. Well… not that they would anyway.

“I’ve just been upset…” Draco mumbled in response. “About last year. You know?”

The other boys nodded. “We understand,” Theodore told him. “That’s what we’ve been thinking it was. It must be awful.”

Crabbe and Goyle finally realized that the conversation had moved on and stopped laughing to listen. Blaise rolled his eyes at them and they growled at him.

The Slytherin boys headed back to Hogwarts, having had their fill of the village. Draco was vaguely aware of a group of giggling girls following them, but chose to ignore them. Blaise, on the other hand, flirted quite openly of course.

Ginny watched as a tittering group of girls followed Malfoy and his friends back to the school. They looked incredibly foolish, giggling and pointing. As they passed, she heard one rather large girl say, “I can’t believe Pansy broke up with him! He’s so hot!”

Ginny rolled her eyes and glanced over at Luna and Neville, who were standing beside her, to see their reactions. Luna was explaining to Neville the effect a Wrackspurt had on the mind. They obviously had not heard.

Malfoy seemed to be oblivious to the group of girls, she noticed. He was staring straight ahead, dragging his feet, not really even watching where he was going. Anyone who looked hard enough could have seen the tired cast to his eyes and the sorrowful way his arms hung limply at his sides.

You’re imagining things, Ginny told herself. His friends don’t seem to notice anything amiss. It’s all in your head.

Then again, his “friends” were a bit slow on the uptake. Blaise Zabini was walking backwards, grinning and waving at the girls behind him. The tall, dark-skinned boy usually could be found with a girl or two hanging off his arm, oblivious to all around him. And he was easily Malfoy’s most observant friend.

Theodore Nott was whistling and glancing around at this and that. He was very easily distracted. There was a rumour going about that Theodore had been answering a question in Potions about the Draught of the Living Dead when a song had popped into his head. Right there, in the middle of reciting the components of the potion, he had begun to sing.

Crabbe and Goyle… well, what was there to say about them, really? They were just sort of trudging along behind Malfoy, not paying attention to anything in particular. This was usual for them. Stupidly following Malfoy wherever he went, waiting to be told what to do. It was a running joke that they needed permission from their leader to use the loo.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. She had just seen several brown bottles poking out of the five Slytherins’ bags. She hoped it was just Butterbeer, but something told her otherwise. Firewhisky was sneaked into Hogwarts quite frequently.

“There’s going to be a party soon,” Luna noted suddenly. Her observation came completely out of the blue, in the middle of her description of some tiara or something, and even Neville looked a bit surprised.

Ginny was startled slightly. She had almost forgotten her friends were there. “You noticed, too?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” Luna replied lazily. “It was quite obvious. They never bother to hide the bottles until they’re near the castle. It’s like they’re bragging.”

Neville nodded his agreement. “I think they are.” He was watching the Slytherins pass cautiously.

Ginny sniffed. “Well, I don’t think it’s impressive. Some rules I happen to agree with.”

Luna and Neville bobbed their heads vaguely. Parties involving Firewhisky usually ended up in drunken brawls. It wasn’t pretty, but it still seemed to have an allure for older Hogwarts students.

The three friends were interrupted by a low growling sound to their left. Turning, they spotted Pansy Parkinson standing between two shops. Her face was hidden in shadows, but it was apparent that she was glaring at Malfoy’s back, muttering darkly under her breath.

Ginny watched the other girl closely. She looked angry, and a Slytherin was dangerous enough on a good day. She sucked in a breath as Pansy drew her wand. She was going to hex Malfoy in the back!

Without taking time to think, Ginny quickly pulled out her own wand and shot a mild Cunfundus charm at her. The Slytherin girl dropped her wand and stared down at it for a minute, blinking. Then she picked it up and put it away, wondering how it had gotten out of her pocket.

Luna giggled. “Good one, Gin!”

“Why’d you save Malfoy from her, though?” Neville wanted to know. He looked slightly disappointed at the thought.

Ginny didn’t really want to think about what had prompted her to defend Malfoy. It had just been pretty much an automatic response. Even if it was him. She just kept thinking about his eyes and how… tired they looked. Like he wasn’t getting enough sleep, or maybe he was depressed. But what did Malfoy have to be depressed about?

Ginny shrugged off her thoughts. “It isn’t fair for someone to be hit while their back is turned. Not even him.”

“That’s never stopped you!” Luna said with a smile. “If I had a Galleon for every time you hexed Draco Malfoy…”

“Besides,” Ginny interrupted, “something’s wrong with him. Have you looked at him lately?”

Neville looked surprised. “At Malfoy?” he asked loudly. “I’m usually too busy trying to avoid him.”

Luna smiled softly. “You have to admit, he doesn’t really allow people to just see how he’s feeling. He’s kind of closed off and private. And easily angered. You, of all people, should know that, Ginny. With Harry and your brother always being at odds with him. And you, of course.”

Ginny sighed. Apparently no one else could see anything the matter with Malfoy. Maybe she did just imagine it. It was probably nothing more than her own lack of sleep that prompted all of this.

An image of clear, silver eyes, ringed with shadows popped into her head. Along with it came the now-familiar feeling of wanting to fix it that she couldn’t quite figure out. No, it wasn’t her imagination.

Why would she feel compassion for Draco Malfoy? Was it just a desire to be helpful? If so, Ginny was sure she could not have picked a worse target for her Good Samaritan syndrome. Malfoy would probably rather she kill him than help him.

Luna gave Ginny an odd look and Ginny blushed, reminded of what her friend had said about her thoughts showing plainly on her face. I’ve really got to work on that, she told herself.

Neville expressed that he was getting bored and suggested popping into Zonko’s. Luna quickly agreed and Ginny followed them towards the joke shop. Maybe looking at the merchandise in there would be enough to get her mind off of Malfoy.

As if drawn by a magnet, her eyes drifted back to the group of Slytherin boys. Malfoy’s hands were shoved in his pocket and he was kicking a rock along in front of him. Ginny watched for a minute, until she noticed Zabini watching her. When their eyes met, he inclined his head to her. Ginny nodded back, then darted after her friends again.

A/N: You guys all seemed to take my mention of a possible Slytherin party and run with it. I just want to clear that up by saying that I have no intention of writing a party. Though it is a nice idea, it doesn't fit with what I already have.
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Draco stared at his friend in shock. “What do you mean, Blaise?” he asked loudly. Surely he must be joking!

Blaise rolled his eyes. “I mean exactly what I said. Pansy was about to curse you (and it would have been a doosie, given the look on her face) and Ginny Weasley stopped her. And no, I’m not joking.”

“Why would Weasley do that?” Draco demanded, still not believing what he was hearing. The weasel was usually the one doing the hexing.

Blaise could only shrug. “Who knows,” he replied. “But I’d be grateful if I were you. She really saved your skin.”

Draco sat in silence, his thoughts taking over. She had been acting weird for the last couple of days. He would catch her watching him as he made his way from class to class, always jerking away when she found him looking back.

She always had this really funny look on her face, too. One time, he’d been sure she was going to hug him, or something equally embarrassing, and he’d run away as fast as he could. Once he’d gotten outside, however, his common sense had come back. No Weasley would ever hug a Malfoy in public, no matter how much pity they felt.

That was all it was anyway. She pitied him for Merlin only knew what reason. He’d seen it that night in the Room of Requirement when she’d looked up into his eyes and frozen for the barest of seconds. Then again the next morning, and every day after that.

Draco stood up and began pacing the common room. He had no idea he was doing it, and Blaise quickly realized this. He grabbed his friend by the shoulders and pulled him back down onto the couch. “Don’t start that again, Draco,” he cautioned.

“Start what?” Draco was genuinely confused.

“You were pacing.”

Draco shook his head. “No I wasn’t. I was sitting right here. I never moved. How could I have been pacing?”

Blaise looked a bit nervous. Come to think about it, a lot of his housemates had been more cautious than usual around him.

“You all keep acting strange around me,” Draco stated. “What’s going on?”

Blaise sighed. “It’s hard to figure out how to act with you. You’re always so brooding and angry.”

“I really don’t think I’ve been that different. Maybe a bit more thoughtful; but what’s so bad about that?” Draco shrugged and settled deeper into the plush cushions of the couch they were sitting in.

“It’s more than that, though,” Blaise continued. “You’re like a completely different person. You don’t talk to any of us very often and you don’t seem to take much pleasure in torturing first years anymore. You shouldn’t take last year so hard. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Draco couldn’t think of anything to say. He knew Blaise was probably right. Well, about most of it, anyway. No one would think that the reason was because of a newfound dissatisfaction with his life. With the number of times he spaced out and ended up in odd places, he couldn’t tell what he had been doing.

Being cruel didn’t hold the same enjoyment for him anymore. Once upon a time, he’d lived for instilling fear in those ‘beneath’ him. But after coming face to face with the choice of whether or not to kill a man, these things unsettled his stomach. He just couldn’t handle it like he used to.

He could still tease, of course, and if Harry Potter the bloody hero had come back to school this year, he would be able to be cruel to him. But just being mean for the sake of being mean made him sick.

Draco shook himself to get rid of his thoughts, not wanting Blaise to get wind of them. “I’m sorry, Blaise,” he said. “I’m trying. But it’s hard, you know. Fitting in after…”

Blaise smiled reassuringly and the two boys headed up to bed.



########################################################################



The next day was a nightmare. This being his N.E.W.T. year, Draco’s work load had nearly doubled. Flitwick had just assigned the class a meter long essay. Before that, McGonagall had demanded a written report on animagi and their limitations.

Now Draco found himself sitting through a very dull Potions lesson. Horace Slughorn wasn’t as good a teacher as Professor Snape had been. His classes, if they didn’t put people to sleep, at least bored them so much that they couldn’t remember what they had learned. That is, if it even got through in the first place.

Thanks to Professor Snape’s guidance through his first five years, Draco had become quite talented at Potions. So even though he got nothing but a nap while in class, he was still doing very well.

Crabbe suddenly elbowed Draco in the side. “You’ve been asked a question,” the boy hissed. “Twice.”

It was always a bad sign if Crabbe was paying more attention than Draco. This ongoing state of distraction was going to cause problems.

Draco, thinking quickly, said, “I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t feel well. May I be excused?”

Professor Slughorn looked startled for a moment, but then smiled widely. “Of course, Mr. Malfoy.” Without Potter and his cronies here, Draco was easily the best Potions student, so Slughorn had no reason to distrust him.

Draco breathed deeply in relief. That was a close one! He made his way out the door, ignoring the jealous looks of those who wished they’d thought of it first.

Making his way toward the Slytherin common room, Draco tried hard to keep his mind from wandering. He didn’t want to end up in any more potentially embarrassing situations. It proved to be rather difficult, however. His thoughts kept drifting into dangerous territory.

He was seriously considering putting a focusing charm on himself when students came streaming from every direction. Blaise came charging up to him. “It’s lunch time!” he announced happily.

Draco allowed himself to be dragged along the corridors to the Great Hall. Blaise took a couple of shortcuts that Draco had never seen before. He probably found these on his late night jaunts, he told himself. Blaise had quite a reputation, after all.

Crabbe and Goyle caught up to them after a couple of minutes. “Why’d you leave?” Goyle demanded grumpily.

“It would have been stupid of me to say, ‘Oh, sorry Professor. I wasn’t paying attention. Your class is just so boring!’” Draco drawled. “I decided it prudent to at least try to save my neck.”

Crabbe grunted. He’d never been particularly articulate. Goyle interpreted for him, “We want to know why you didn’t get us out of there, too.”

“It would have sounded even more stupid to say ‘My friends and I don’t feel so well’. I wanted to get out of trouble, not take two more with me.”

In the Great Hall, the four boys sat in their usual seats at the Slytherin table. Blaise immediately wrapped his arm around this week’s girlfriend. Crabbe and Goyle attacked the cold chicken with looks of bliss on their fat faces. Draco stared in disgust at the pudding in front of him, ignoring the sounds of slurping going on on both sides of him.

They began to eat and talked amongst themselves (except Blaise, who was snogging his girl). Halfway through the meal, hundreds of owls came bursting through the windows. People anxiously looked up, hoping for a precious letter from home. All except Draco, who didn’t actually want to receive a letter.

An owl landed in front of him, dipping its tail in the pudding. Draco quickly grabbed his letter, and, glancing about quickly, sneaked out of the Great Hall to read it in private, for once unaware of a pair of large brown eyes watching his progress. He had recognized his father’s spidery scrawl.

Ginny left the Astronomy tower later that night feeling drained. She had been struggling a bit with the subject, and so had signed up for a weekly study session. She was the only Gryffindor to do so, so it was a little lonely. Not that that really mattered, but it made the walk back to Gryffindor tower that much longer.

As she reached the seventh floor landing, she was startled by a door slamming above her head. Choosing to ignore it, as it was more than likely Peeves causing trouble, she started down the next set of stairs. She had one more flight down, then a rather long walk through several corridors, before finally climbing up to the location of Gryffindor tower.

She had only stepped onto the first stair when she heard a loud crash behind her. Ginny spun around and gasped. Something, or someone, was tumbling down the stairs she had just descended. Ginny leaped out of the way as the thing came toward her.

It came to rest at the bottom of the stairs and groaned. It was obviously human. Ginny jumped forward and rolled the person onto their back. She pulled the tangled robes off of their head, trying not to jostle their recently acquired bruises.

The pale face and tangled, silvery-blond hair could only belong to one person. Draco Malfoy groaned again and tried to roll back over. Ginny nearly gagged on the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed in exasperation. She couldn’t very well leave him in the middle of the floor. There was no one else around to ditch him on, either.

Ginny heaved a disgruntled sigh and pulled Malfoy to his feet. He leaned heavily on her and hiccupped. Lifting a hand to his bruised head, he groaned for a third time.

“Thank goodness we’re on the seventh floor,” Ginny told him, even though he had no clue she was even there. “We won’t have too far to go. Which is good, because you’re pretty heavy.”

She made her unsteady way through the halls, trying to support his limp weight without falling. Finally she stopped and lowered Malfoy to the floor beneath an ugly tapestry, relieved to be free of him for a moment. She grumbled and stomped past the blank wall three times, thinking angrily, I need a place to hide this drunken idiot.

The door to the Room of Requirement appeared and Ginny bent down to retrieve Malfoy. He swiped at her, giving a grumpy grunt and mumbling something about sleeping more. She pulled him up roughly, making sure to grip him extra tight. Why bother being nice. He wouldn’t extend her the same courtesy.

He lifted his head and blinked bleary-eyed at her. “Wha’ d’you wan’?” he asked, his rancid breath washing over her cheek.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Ginny snapped irritably. She shoved open the door and dragged him inside. It slammed shut behind them and she took a second to look around.

Two couches, both facing a raging fire, were situated in the room. Between these was a small table. A cauldron and potions component cupboard were set against one wall along with the recipe for a sobering draught. Convenient, Ginny thought dryly.

On the wall opposite the cauldron sat a linens cabinet. Ginny was sure that blankets could be found in there. The couches each had a blanket on them, but with the nights getting colder, one might not cut it.

She shifted Malfoy in her grasp to prevent him from falling as she made her way to the couches. It seemed like forever before they made it because of the slow pace she was forced to take due to Malfoy’s added weight. Panting slightly, she lowered the Slytherin boy onto one of the couches.

Dropping to the floor next to him, Ginny pulled off her school robes. Dragging Malfoy around had left her feeling too hot. Even just the t-shirt and pants she was wearing underneath her robes seemed stifling.

Malfoy moaned and raised his arm to cover his eyes. He never quite made it, however, as he lost consciousness before he’d even gotten half-way there. He really did look quite pitiful. His face had a slightly greenish tinge and his hair was tangled and sticking out every which way.

Ginny got to work loosening his robes. He had spilled Firewhisky down his front, leaving a large, wet, smelly stain. Ginny avoided this area as well as she could, but her eyes watered from the scent.

When she finished with his robes, she got a piece of cloth and some water and began bathing his face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she growled. She wiped the sweat off of his forehead and dipped it back in the basin.

As she ran the cloth over his cheek, she noticed something clenched in his fist. Glancing at his face to make sure he was still out, Ginny pried it out and unwadded it. It was a letter.

Feeling slightly guilty, she began to read.

Draco,

I must say, I have been disappointed at your lack of correspondence. Every one of my letters has remained unanswered. Your mother is quite anxious, and, frankly, I expected more of you. Didn’t I teach you to respect me?

If you are still upset over you failure to kill that fool, Dumbledore, last year, shutting us out will not help. The Dark Lord has offered to overlook your mistake and would like to assign you another task.

I know this will be favourable to you, so I have taken the liberty of accepting his kind offer. When you visit for Christmas, I will give you the details. Until then, keep your ears open. You never know what you will overhear

-Lucius Malfoy

Ginny glanced back at Malfoy in surprise. She had not been expecting this. Had he gotten drunk because he was upset over his failure or, less likely, because he didn’t want to follow Voldemort? She couldn’t see him defying his parents in such a way. Lucius was a very avid follower of the Dark Lord and would certainly expect his son to do the same.

The object of her scrutiny began to squirm, reminding Ginny that she was supposed to be trying to make him more comfortable. She ran the cloth over his forehead again, noticing the contrast between the cool cloth and his warm skin.

She sighed, this time sadly. “Malfoy. Why did you have to tumble at my feet? I don’t want to have to deal with you.”

He moaned. Then he began to shout, “No! No! I don’t want to! I can’t do it!” His face contorted in fear and mild disgust.

Ginny jumped in fright, then, realizing that he wasn’t yelling at her, tried to calm him. She made shushing noises like her mum had done when one of the children had nightmares and smoothed her hands through his hair. She continued wiping his face with the cloth.

Malfoy seemed to settle down under her ministrations, but then he flung his arms outward, pushing Ginny away violently, and yelled, “Well kill me then! I won’t do it!”

Ginny grabbed his hands and pulled them back down. “No one’s here, Draco,” she murmured. “You’re safe. Shh!” She rubbed her hands up and down his arms, talking to him softly, hoping to keep him calm.

After about half an hour, he fell into a deep sleep. His cheeks were flushed from his yelling, but at least he’d stopped. Ginny sat back on her heels, more exhausted than ever. But she wasn’t done yet.

Heaving a sigh, she pulled herself up off the floor and headed over to the cupboard. Glancing over the directions, she pulled out the necessary components. When she had them all, she set the cauldron over the fire and began the process of making the sobering potion.

Ginny rolled up her sleeves and began cutting, smashing, and pealing each item as specified. Carefully following the instructions, she put them into the cauldron and stirred them together. As it boiled, she looked back at Malfoy and wiped the sweat off her face. You’d better make this up to me somehow, she mentally told him.

A couple of minutes later, his nightmares started up again. Once more, she found herself at his side, stroking his hair and trying to comfort him. Her voice became hoarse from whispering to him for so long, but she kept at it. He managed to knock her to the floor a couple more times, and she discovered that by sitting on the edge of his couch, she could escape that.

When she was finally able to go to her own couch and fall asleep, she swore that she would never get up. She also promised herself that she’d find someone to walk with after her Astronomy study sessions so that this couldn’t happen again. “Miserable git,” she muttered as she drifted off to sleep.

Draco groaned as he rolled over. Why did he hurt so much? And since when was his bed so uncomfortable? It seemed smaller and stiffer than he was used to. He cracked his eyes open and instantly regretted it. His head felt like it was splitting in two.

Squeezing his eyes shut again, he tried to ease the pain. That’s when he noticed the smell. It was like something dead had been burned up. What was going on? His first thought was that Crabbe and Goyle were doing something stupid again.

Very slowly, so as not to make his headache worse, he opened his eyes again. Looking around, he immediately realized that he wasn’t in his dormitory. He was on a couch in front of a large fireplace. He didn’t recognize what he could see of the room and had no idea where he was.

A piece of paper on the floor caught his attention. He reached down, ignoring the ache in his shoulder, and picked it up. As soon as he saw the words written across the page, everything came back to him: reading the letter from his father, the feelings of anger and disgust, the Firewhisky, and then kind words breaking into his dreams.

He began to study the room in closer detail. A recently used cauldron stood by the fire and a cupboard full of potion components had been left hanging open. Someone else had been in the room with him. Unless he’d somehow become a sleepwalker, which was completely unlikely seeing as he was a pretty deep sleeper.

There was a couch next to his, and, sure enough, there was someone laying on it. From this angle, though, all he could see was a pile of blankets and a small hand peeking out from underneath. The figure was small, though, and he didn’t know anyone who was that small. Except Pansy, but she would have been on his couch, hangover or not.

There was a table between the couches, and on the table was a vial full of a disgusting looking potion. Next to the vial was a note that simply read "Sobering potion. Drink up" in tiny, elegant letters. Perfect! Thank you to whoever was on that couch!

Draco grabbed the potion and drank it quickly, not savoring the taste at all. After a moment, he began to feel better. The churning in his stomach subsided and his head stopped pounding. He was still sore, however. He thought he remembered something about stairs, but he’d been pretty out of it.

He tenderly felt the bruises that he couldn’t recall getting. Nothing too bad. Just sore. He had a knot on his forehead and a couple of sore spots on his arms and legs, but it was minimal. Thankfully nothing that would leave any permanent damage.

Carefully he climbed off the couch and stepped over to the sleeping form of his rescuer. Two crumpled robes were piled on the floor and he made sure not to walk on them. He looked down at the figure and at once his eyes took in the long red hair of who else but Ginny Weasley. You’re kidding, right? he thought.

Draco stood there for a minute, trying to convince himself that it couldn’t be her. Without his permission, his eyes studied her face. She was sleeping like only one who was completely exhausted could. Her breathing was deep and steady, and she hadn’t stirred at any of the noise he’d made that morning.

Had she really stayed with him all night? It seemed unlikely that she would, and yet, here she was. Draco had never been drunk before, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t been pleasant. He couldn’t actually remember anything, but he had been angry, so he’d probably yelled.

She had a light purple bruise forming on one side of her jaw and he hoped he hadn’t put it there. He’d never hit a girl and didn’t want to start any time soon. The memory of a nightmare popped into his head. The Dark Lord, with his ugly, snake-like head, ordering him to kill fellow students.

He remembered that gentle voice he had heard every time the dream got bad. It had pulled him out of it and into a much quieter place. Could that have been Weasley? The sound had been comforting. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Ginny as the type to comfort him when he had bad dreams. Then again, who could it have been? She was the only one here.

Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which was remarkably smooth, considering the sort of night he’d had. As he thought about it, he could remember bits of what she’d said to him. “No one’s here, Draco. You’re safe.” She’d said that several times. Even now, fully awake, he felt calmer just remembering it.

Draco had a sudden urge to touch her and tell her ‘thank you’. She’s asleep, isn’t she? his mind reasoned. She’d never know.

And so he did. He reached down and smoothed the backs of his fingers over her cheek as softly as he could. He opened his mouth to say thank you… and she was awake! Her eyes flew wide as she realized who was standing over her.

Draco jerked his hand back from her face as if he’d been burned. He felt so stupid right then. How was it that she could sleep through him walking around, but as soon as he touched her she was up? It just wasn’t right.

“What are you doing?” Ginny shrieked, going as red as her hair. “You took your potion, right?” She glanced over at the empty vial sitting on the table.

“Yes,” Draco replied, confused. “Why?” What did that have to do with anything?

“Why are you touching me?” she countered. She looked up at him and he noticed that she had dark circles under her eyes. She must not have slept very much. For the first time in his life, he felt sorry for someone else.

Draco felt himself flush. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, not quite meeting her gaze. He felt bad for being the reason she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. “I wanted to say thank you and that’s a lot easier when you’re asleep.”

“Oh.” She seemed to relax. Then she looked down at her lap. “But why were you touching me?” she asked again in a small voice.

“I already said I don’t know!” He was beginning to get angry. It was bad enough that he’d done it in the first place, then got caught. Why did she have to keep bringing it up?

Ginny threw the blankets off of herself and stood up. Her hair was tangled and her clothes were wrinkled, making her look like some strange, wild beauty come to wreak havoc. Draco wondered again why she’d stayed with him all night, not even noticing that he'd likened her to a beauty.

“Don’t. Do it. Again,” she threatened, her words breaking into separate sentences that somehow sounded more menacing than if she’d said it all together.

Draco took an involuntary step backwards. He could have killed himself when she smirked at that. A tiny gleam appeared in her eyes and she said, “Nervous, little ferret?”

Surprisingly he wasn’t angry when she said that. Most of the time, people called him a ferret like it was a vile curse. But not with her. It seemed like a joke… good-natured, even. Her voice was light. Not quite nice, but it didn’t have the usual menace, making her words seem kinder.

“Of course not,” Draco said. “I just thought it would be wise to stay out of your reach. You’re obviously not a morning person.”

Ginny picked up her school robes and bag off the floor and looked disdainfully at him, her pert little nose stuck into the air. “You need a shower, Malfoy,” she stated, her eyes pointedly dragging over his disheveled appearance.

Draco glance down at his trousers and wrinkled shirt, then back at her. “You don’t look much better, Weasley.” He felt a little bad about saying it. After all, the only reason she looked that way was because she’d stayed in here with his sorry, drunken self all night.

“I wasn’t talking about how you look, Draco.” Her voice was infuriatingly serene. She looked him up and down one more time, this time wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something foul. Which she probably did, come to think of it.

Draco looked at her, too stunned to speak. He was used to getting the last word, but how did one respond to that? Especially since she was right. He tried to force something out, but only succeeded in opening and closing his mouth silently.

“Oh, yeah. That’s real nice,” she said smugly, clearly pleased with herself for getting the better of him. “Now you look like a fish.” She then turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her red hair swaying behind her.

“Wait!” Draco called after her; but it was too late. “Thank you for your help,” he said to the empty room.

Ginny made her way from the Room of Requirement to Gryffindor tower, checking her watch as she went. Thankfully they were on the same floor, as she wasn’t feeling up to managing the stairs just yet. She let loose a sigh as she realized that it was only six o’clock in the morning! Why do I have to be such a bloody light sleeper?

Granted, if she weren’t a light sleeper, Malfoy would have gotten away with that little stunt he’d been trying to pull. Touching her cheek, for the love of Merlin! What had he been thinking?

Oh, sure, he said he was only trying to thank her for helping him. But, really, there are much better ways of doing that than what he was doing. Honestly, for a minute, she’d thought he was trying to take advantage of her.

He was attractive, to be sure. With all of that white-blond hair of his and his smoky grey eyes. What girl in her right mind wouldn’t think him good looking. But that wasn’t nearly enough in her opinion to make him desirable. And she definitely didn’t enjoy waking up to him standing over her with his hand on her face. No, sir!

When she reached the portrait of the fat lady, Ginny was forced to stand in the cold hallway for several long minutes. The fat lady was not a light sleeper, and was grumpy to have been woken up. She complained about inconsiderate students and refused to open.

Finally, after Ginny had apologized twelve times, she relented. “Just don’t make a habit of it,” she admonished grouchily. “I’m sure you wouldn’t like to be woken up so early!” She emphasized this with a wide yawn.

“No kidding,” Ginny mumbled under her breath. She crawled though the portrait hole and literally had to drag her aching limbs up the stairs to her dormitory. Trying not to wake her happily sleeping friends, she quietly gathered fresh robes and headed for the bathroom. A long, hot, relaxing bath was all she wanted right then.

Ginny turned on the hot water, added her favourite scent, and sank into the enormous tub. She floated for a minute, letting herself relax. As she felt the stiffness wear out of her muscles, she heaved a contented sigh and let her thoughts drift.

An hour later, she woke up, not having realized she had fallen asleep, still feeling tired, and now upset with herself for dozing off. She climbed out and got dressed, wishing she could crawl into her bed and start over.

Stupid Malfoy! This was all his fault. If he hadn’t gone and gotten himself drunk, or better yet, fallen where there was no one to take care of him (or at least not her), she wouldn’t be so tired. Staying up all night, taking care of a drunken idiot who had nightmares of being attacked by Merlin only knows what was not her ideal way to spend an evening.

Ginny sighed. Classes wouldn’t wait. Not even for exhaustion. She grabbed her school bag and hurried down to the Great Hall and ate as much food as she could manage before heading to her first class.



##################################################################



Draco skipped his morning classes in favour of getting some unintoxicated sleep. He was startled awake at ten o’clock by Blaise, who had decided to spend his free period in the dormitory. The boy burst through the door noisily, accompanied by a blond girl Draco had never seen before.

The two promptly sat on Blaise’s bed and began sucking face. Draco looked away in disgust. “Don’t let me disturb you,” he said.

They didn’t. They just kept right on going as if there were no tomorrow. Draco doubted they even realized he was there. He stood up groggily and left, tossing a pillow at his friend on the way.

In the common room, which was thankfully empty, he sat in front of the fire to think. He pulled his father’s letter out of his pocket and smoothed it out to read it over again. What could the Dark Lord want? Draco wondered as a thousand unpleasant possibilities ran through his head.

He angrily wadded up the piece of parchment an threw it into the flames. I don’t want to work for him! He’ll expect me to kill people! What will he do when I can’t?

Draco felt a prickling of fear. He knew exactly what Voldemort did with those who displeased him. He would kill them. If they were lucky… or not, depending on your point of view… he would torture them to within an inch of their lives. Either way, it didn’t bode well.

Draco was lost in his contemplation for a very long time, how long, he didn‘t know. Before he realized it, Blaise and his girlfriend, both frazzled and disheveled, were coming down the stairs. “There you are Draco,” his friend exclaimed loudly. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I was in bed when you came in with your… friend.” Here he gave the simpering blonde a pointed look. She was busy straightening her blouse.

“Oh.” Blaise looked surprised to hear that. “I guess I didn’t see you.”

“No way,” Draco muttered, too quiet to be heard.

“Well, come on,” Blaise continued, once again oblivious as he winked and smiled at his girlfriend. “Time for Muggle Studies. Miss Carrow gets angry when people are late. Besides, she’s made the class much more enjoyable.”

Draco grunted noncommittally as he rose from his seat. Blaise kissed his girlfriend goodbye (she was a sixth year and didn’t have Muggle studies until later) and hurried Draco out the door.

All through class, Draco could feel his concentration slipping. Not too long ago, he would have enjoyed hearing someone ranting against Muggles and proclaiming the wizard’s superiority. But now… No. He just couldn’t enjoy it.

He still hated Muggles and Muggle-borns, of course. That would probably never change. But he just plain didn’t care about the whole deal anymore. He didn’t care about much, really. He just wanted to get through school.

With Voldemort steadily rising back to power, and Draco feeling as though he was being pulled under the train, so to speak, wizard-kind didn’t look too wonderful. The mindless killings; the raging destruction. None of which really made any difference in the long run but to show off power and ability. This sort of blood-thirsty power sickened him.

Needless to say, Draco was glad when the lesson was finished and everyone was allowed to go to lunch. Glad to not have to listen to any more stories of raids on Muggle homes, he marched to the Great Hall, looking to all the world like the arrogant, confident boy they were used to seeing.

In the Great Hall, he noticed hundreds of jack-o’-lanterns had been set out. He suddenly realized that it was Halloween. The last day of October. He’d been at school for two whole months now.

Draco sighed as he sat down at the Slytherin table. Time was flying by more quickly than he liked. In just a short while, he’d be going home and hearing about his new task. He was dreading it. Both going home, and the order.

He’d only just begun eating when something caught his attention. Ginny Weasley was asleep at the Gryffindor table. Draco was suddenly smiling at the sight she made, her arms crossed in front of her, her head laying over them, red hair spilling out all over the place. He also felt sorry for being the reason she was so tired.

He hadn’t intended on looking over at her. It just sort of happened. Like his eyes had a mind of their own. He watched her for a couple of minutes as her roommates and all the wonderful Gryffindors obliviously talked on right next to her.

Luna Lovegood got up from her seat at the Ravenclaw table and moved over to the red-head. She shook her friend with a mildly frustrated and amused look on her face, as if this wasn’t the first time she’d had to do that. Ginny sat up, looking apologetic, and yawned.

Draco quickly made up his mind and stood. He intended to go over there and tell her to go straight up to bed and get some decent sleep. It wouldn’t do for her to be falling asleep all over the place. After thanking her properly, of course, as he still hadn’t been able to manage that.

Pansy, noticing the direction he was looking, got out of her own seat and stood in front of him. “Draco. What are you doing?” she demanded. She propped her hands on her hips as if it would make her look more intimidating. Instead she just looked like a pouting child.

Draco didn’t even hesitate to think. “Bathroom,” he said shortly.” I think I’m going to be sick.” Lying had always been second nature to him. Pansy looked down in horror at the food, assuming that it had made Draco ill.

He made his way around her, but by this time, Ginny had noticed him. She watched him cautiously all the way down the table until it became evident where he was headed. She jumped up off the bench, whispering a hurried excuse to her friends, and went flying through the great double doors before he’d even finished the turn towards the Gryffindor table.

Draco pulled up short, knowing he’d never catch up to her. He glanced back at his own table. If he went back now, his friends would become suspicious. He looked longingly at his untouched food and then left the Great Hall.

He’d missed breakfast, and now lunch. He could only hope that nothing would keep him from dinner, or he’d become very angry.

The month of November moved by much too slowly for Ginny. She continued to contemplate the changes she was seeing in Draco Malfoy while studiously avoiding him, which proved to be harder than she expected. He just seemed to be everywhere. She had been affected by his touch on her cheek much more than she was willing to admit, even to herself. She couldn’t seem to rid herself of the memory, however.

Whenever she saw him in the corridors, she would hide and wait for him to pass. One time, she had been walking to lunch with Luna when he came around the corner. With a practiced quickness, Ginny darted behind a tapestry into a secret passage. To her surprise, Draco had stopped Luna and asked her if she’d seen Ginny. Luna, thankfully, said no, and Draco had hurried on.

Ginny was outside, taking a walk in the cold, early-December air, enjoying some peaceful thinking. It seemed to be the only place she could avoid him completely. In just a short while all of the students would be heading home for the Christmas holidays. Ginny was looking forward to seeing her family again. Only Ron would be absent. He was still off helping Harry Potter save the world.

School didn’t hold the same enjoyments as it used to. Quidditch had been disbanded, and most of the groups and clubs had stopped holding meetings. Not even her Astronomy study group was intact. Ginny was glad that the D.A. was still together. At least they still had that.

Ginny walked past the empty, untended Quidditch pitch, looking at it a little sadly. The ground and spectator stands were covered with a dusting of snow. She could remember those seats filled with excited, cheering students, waving banners and screaming encouragement to their teams. She could almost feel the wind rushing past her ears, whipping her hair out behind her.

Ginny stepped out onto the pitch and bent down to stick her gloved hand into the snow. She sighed as she thought of the good memories. She hoped that this wouldn’t be forever. That the game she loved would come back to the school before she left it. She’d practically lived for Quidditch in the past years. Not having it was like having a piece of her missing.

Continuing on her walk, Ginny tried to put her gloomy thoughts behind her and think of happier things. That was her defense against sadness. Pretending to be happy. She immediately thought of her family. If there was one thing that could bring a smile to her face, it was her family.

She thought of her mum, baking in the kitchen, as she usually was. It was always so comforting to sit at the table with a cup of tea while Molly made bread or a cake and just talk over meaningless things. And because of that, the smell of freshly baked bread was an extreme comfort to Ginny whenever she was sad.

Her dad was enamoured of Muggles and their creations and always had some thing or another to show his children. He could get so excited over the littlest things. Eckeltricity was one of his favourites.

Ginny walked into a copse of trees as a memory of one of Fred and George’s pranks hit her. They’d planted some sort of exploding device in Ron’s bed and he’d walked around for days with hooves instead of hands and feet. She laughed loudly as she thought of it.

Suddenly she heard an odd noise above her. Glancing up quickly, she caught a glimpse of black robes and flailing arms just before someone landed on top of her and knocked her flat on her back. The air was ripped out of her lungs and the other person grunted in her ear.

Ginny opened her eyes to find a pair of grey ones looking back at her. Just great. Just the person she wanted to see. “Get off of me, Malfoy!” she gasped as she continued trying to catch her breath.

Draco looked just as startled as she was. He started to push himself up, but then he hesitated and seemed to change his mind. “Actually, Weasley,” he said in his customary drawl, not out of breath at all. “While I have your attention and you can’t escape… I’d like to thank you for the help you gave me in the Room of Requirement.”

“What?” Ginny exclaimed. He’d just fallen out of a tree and landed on top of her, and all he could think to say was thank you for something that had happened a month ago?! Maybe he’d hit his head. She began looking for a lump on the part of his head she could see.

Malfoy grinned. A real grin, not a smirk or a sneer. That was even more surprising. “I said, ‘thank you.’ I didn’t get a chance to do it properly then, what with you running away, and I haven’t been able to find you since.”

“So you’re going to do it while laying on top of me in the middle of a bunch of trees? One of which you just fell out of by the way! I’m sure if anyone happened to come by, this would look a little… wrong.” She could feel snow working its way into her robes and had to suppress a shiver. With him on top of her like that, she didn’t want to move any more than necessary.

Draco shrugged. The movement felt weird because of the position they were in. “I was reading and you startled me,” he said by way of explanation. “I decided to take advantage of the fact that you can’t get away. I am a Slytherin, you know.”

Anxious to be out of this somewhat awkward spot, Ginny snapped, “Well, you’ve thanked me. Now get off!”

“But do you accept my thanks?”

What was this, an inquisition? Ginny pushed against his shoulders in a futile attempt to escape. When had he grown so many muscles? “Is that really necessary?” She was beginning to get anxious. Being pressed underneath him was doing strange things to her nerves, and she was finding it even harder to breathe than it had been at first.

“Of course it is,” he replied, bringing his face close to hers, causing her to suck in air sharply. Which was a bad decision, as all she could smell was him. That same spicy, rich scent that made her stomach flip over. “I like to know we’re on the same page.”

Ginny was squirming now. “Alright! I accept! You’re welcome! Now will you get off of me?”

Draco casually rolled to the side and stood, a book held loosely under his arm. He put down his hand to help her up, but Ginny batted it away and jumped to her feet angrily.

“That was completely uncalled for, Draco Malfoy!” She was much more comfortable now that she had a little space from him. But at the same time, she was much more aware of how cold the air was. Especially due to the amount of snow in her robes.

“What else could I do?” he asked. “I haven’t even seen you in a month. It’s kind of hard to say thank you to someone who’s not there. An opportunity fell in my… well, in your lap, and I took it.”

“You still could have had the decency to get off. I might have listened.” Or I might not have. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Might have,” Draco repeated with a nod. “I don’t like chances. I like to guarantee my success. Slytherin, you know.”

Ginny leveled her wand at him and was pleased to see his eyes widen momentarily. She knew she was overreacting to the situation, but after being pinned underneath him, she didn’t really care.

“Here’s a chance for you, Malfoy,” she spat out. “I could just blow your brains out right now. Or I might not. What’s your call?”

Draco raised his hands, more in a calming gesture than surrender, and said slowly, “I’m sorry, Weasley. I didn’t think it would upset you this much.”

Well it did!” And she stomped back towards the castle thinking, I shouldn’t have reacted to you like that. Traitorous hormones!

“Wait!” Draco called. He hurried after her and grabbed her arm.

Ginny slowly turned to face him, hoping her expression was impassive. “Yes?” she asked in a near-perfect imitation of his drawl.

“I really am sorry.”

The look in his stormy grey eyes was so pleading that Ginny couldn’t help but smile.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” he asked.

“No. It means you’re cute when you beg.” Ginny immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going as wide as saucers. She did not just say that out loud! When would she learn to think things through?

Draco’s eyebrows rose high and he smirked at her. “Oh, really?”

“I….” Ginny ripped her arm from his grasp and tore off back to the school. She could hear his laughter ringing out behind her as she ran.

Why did I say that? she asked herself. I must be stupid!

She burst through the front doors and didn’t stop running until she reached the portrait of the fat lady. The stupid woman seemed to take even longer than usually to swing open, leaving Ginny to shuffle anxiously in the hall, expecting Malfoy to come around the corner any minute and laugh at her some more.

When she was finally able to enter Gryffindor tower, she flew up the stairs to her dormitory. She threw herself across her bed and screamed into her pillow, “Idiot! You stupid, bloody, good-for-nothing idiot! What is the matter with me? Ugh!”

“Erm… Ginny?” That’s when she realized that there were other people in the room. And they’d all heard her outburst.

She looked up into the concerned faces of her friends and laughed hysterically. “I’m just so stupid!” she cried, her face turning a brilliant shade of red.

They all exchanged looks, but thankfully didn’t say anything. Ginny stared at the ceiling and kept her rants and exclamations to herself. She’d certainly been embarrassed enough for one day.

Over the next couple of weeks, the vision of the littlest Weasley’s smile continuously popped into Draco’s head. The memory of her warm brown eyes looking up at him in that unguarded moment. It was actually very frustrating. There was no escape from her.

He would be writing an essay or brewing a potion and she would appear in his head, out of the blue. No matter what he did, it was like she was haunting him. She was even there in his dreams, the intrusive little minx. He wanted to rip out his hair!

One more class and I’ll have two whole weeks of ‘freedom,’ Draco thought as he pulled out his Dark Arts books. I wish I didn’t have to go home. Just remembering what was coming pulled his face into a dark scowl.

His father had always taught him that Malfoy’s were proud and did not take orders from anyone. Then he goes and aligns himself with another who is hell-bent on ruling the entire wizarding world. It was so far against everything that Draco couldn’t even begin to fathom why his father would want to put himself beneath anyone else. Especially someone who, to all appearances, was less than human.

The lesson began and Draco tried hard to bring his thoughts around and concentrate. It was hard though, and, before long, he was distracted by a soft sound to his right. He looked up to see a tall, dark-haired beauty smiling and waving at him in obvious adoration.

Almost reflexively, and fully against his will, Draco began to compare her to Ginny Weasley: nice smile; but a bit toothy. Blue eyes… okay, but so boring and cold. Hair’s a bit dull. I prefer red anyway. Then he caught himself. How ridiculous! Of course I don’t!!

He’d caught himself doing that more frequently than he cared to acknowledge. Every time he saw her in the corridors, he’d feel an urge to make her smile at him the way she had beneath those trees again. Then he would catch himself looking at her and blush (no, not blush, Malfoys don’t blush), causing him to come to his senses.

She was a Weasley, after all! What did he care if she had a pretty smile and her eyes sparkled when she was amused? What did he care if her hair was vibrant and soft and just begging to be touched? Right.

Draco shook himself angrily. What the bloody hell is wrong with me?! That fall out of the tree must have knocked me loopy!

He forced his attention back to Professor Carrow at the head of the class. He refused to let his mind wander from the subject again. By the time the hour was up, he had a headache and felt irritable. Well… more irritable than before, anyway.

Draco had decided long ago that he didn’t like learning about the Dark Arts rather than how to fight them. Being taught every day about torture methods and evil magic, while completely in line with his early study at the feet of his father, left a bad taste in his mouth. He wished things would go back to the way they had been; before Voldemort. Of course he could never voice these thoughts.

Sighing, Draco gathered up his things. He headed to the Great Hall and ate his dinner in silence, not noticing the concerned gaze of a certain red-head who had been in his head for far too long. Whenever anyone tried to talk to him, he glared at them moodily. Finally, thankfully, they all shut up and left him to brood in peace.

Draco didn’t sleep that night, not even for a moment. He lay awake in his four-poster, staring blankly at the ceiling. Fragmented thoughts chased each other through his restless mind. What would Voldemort have for him to do? How would he get out of this mess? Why couldn’t he get the image of Ginny Weasley out from behind his eyelids? Gah! Her again?

Morning came at long last, bringing with it the memory that in just a few short hours, he would be back at Malfoy Manor. His father would, no doubt, still be angry at Draco’s ‘incapabilities’; but also pleased that the Dark Lord was still singling him out. Draco found himself dreading every aspect of it.

Blaise Zabini threw open the curtains surrounding Draco’s bed. “Get up, sleepy head!” he yelled. His eyes fell on Draco’s face and his own froze. Taking a hasty step backwards, he cursed violently. Draco could just imagine how he must have looked.

“I’m not hungry, Blaise,” he said in a surprisingly steady voice. “You go on without me.”

Blaise backed away without another word and darted through the door, Crabbe and Goyle on his heels. Shock and more than a little fear was evident on their faces.

Draco groaned and rolled out of bed. His muscles were stiff and his headache hadn’t gone away, thanks to his sleepless night. As he grabbed the remainder of his belongings to throw them into his trunk, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. What he saw made him sigh.

The face looking back at him was completely unrecognizable. His eyes were bloodshot and squinted. His skin was tight and grey. His shoulders were hunched and his arms slack. The only feature remaining to identify him as Draco Malfoy was his silvery-blond hair hanging in a tangled mess about his face.

Draco spent the next half hour just forcing his face into its usual Malfoy smirk. He was pleased with his success. No one would notice a difference unless they looked really closely, which he had no intention of allowing anyway. Well, maybe his red-rimmed eyes, but what could he do about that?

He threw on some clothes and took great care to return his hair to its normally perfect order. He felt confident that he could fool everyone. He sneered at his reflection. Yes. He looked perfectly normal.

Draco grabbed his luggage and dragged it behind him out of the dungeons. They would be loading the carriages before long, and Draco wanted to ensure that he would get a comfortable seat. He was walking through a deserted corridor when a hand shot out of a darkened doorway and grabbed his arm, yanking him into an empty classroom.

He opened his mouth to yell, but it was quickly covered by a small hand. “Shut up, Malfoy!” hissed a soft, feminine voice. A very familiar voice with a hard edge buried just beneath the surface.

“Weasley?” he tried to ask through her hand. It ended up sounding more like “Meeshlim?”

The hand was removed slowly. “Don’t yell,” she said, almost questioning.

Draco nodded to let her know that he wouldn’t. “Lumos,” he muttered as soon as she released his mouth. The tip of his wand emitted a soft, bluish glow, revealing Ginny’s halo of red hair and her brown eyes, blinking in the sudden light.

“What do you want, weasel?” He tried to pull his arm free, but she had a firm grip. He wasn’t trying that hard anyway, for some reason. He mentally shrugged that off. Lack of sleep does strange things to a person, apparently.

She blushed deeply at his question. Why was she blushing? She’d grabbed him, for goodness sake! “I just… I wanted…” Ginny stammered.

She looked so helpless and embarrassed in that moment that Draco found himself putting his hand on her shoulder. He stared at it for a minute before shifting his gaze back to her face. “What is it?”

Ginny glanced up and met his gaze. “Are you going to be all right?” she asked quickly, almost as if she were forcing herself to get it out before she changed her mind. He could see uncertainty and concern in her eyes.

Caught off guard, Draco blinked at her for a moment. “What do you mean?” he asked once he’d found his voice. Not too many people… okay, no one, really… cared to ask him if he was all right. Coming from her, someone he’d hated and made fun of all of his life, it was even more confusing.

“With your father. Are you going to be all right?”

A wild moment of panic gripped Draco before he wrangled it in. She could not have possibly found out. “My father?” he repeated. “Why wouldn’t I be? I have nothing to fear from him.”

“But You-Know-Who… Your letter said…” Even in the dim light, he could see her face turning a brilliant shade of red that was really quite attractive as her eyes grew wide as saucers. “I mean…”

“You read my letter?” Draco asked, incredulous. He didn’t even care that he’d cut her of. “Why would you do that? Even for a Weasley, that’s low.”

Ginny pulled herself up to her full height, which wasn’t much, seeing as the top of her head only just reached his shoulder. “You were unconscious on a couch!” she snapped. “I thought if I could discover the reason for your drunken state, I could help you better! I wasn’t doing it to sneak into your private affairs or anything!”

Draco leaned his head back against the wall. She made a good point. He had tumbled down a flight of stairs to land at her feet, unable to pick himself up to get to his common room. He couldn’t fault her for reading the letter. He would have done the same thing if he’d had to take care of someone all night long.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny whispered.

He sighed and looked back down at her. He was surprised to see a tear making its way down her cheek. A strange twisting sensation pulled at his chest. He lifted his thumb and gently brushed the tear away, lingering, perhaps, a bit longer than necessary on her smooth skin. He hadn’t meant to, but he didn’t like seeing it there for some reason, and his body seemed to have taken on a mind of its own today.

“Don’t… Don’t cry,” he told her quietly, his breath catching in his throat. He let his hand drop down to her shoulder and resisted the urge to hug her. Malfoys do not hug anyone, especially Weasleys or Gryffindors, for any reason.

“I really didn’t mean anything. I’m sorry,” she said again, her gaze still fixed on her shoes. Had her hair always been so bright and… and… nice?

“I know. It’s all right,” he found himself saying. Like his mouth had just decided to go off without him. Why not, though? Everything else had. He hadn’t run off when she first grabbed him and he hadn’t hexed her when she admitted to reading his letter. He couldn’t get any more insane than that.

She looked up and met his eyes. Her own widened suddenly, an expression of shock and surprise filling them, and, before Draco could say a word, she bolted out the door.

“Why does she always do that?” he said to the empty room as he let himself drop back against the wall.

Ginny, Luna, and Neville found an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express and sat down together. All three of them were silent, lost in their thoughts, each for a different reason.

In Harry Potter’s absence, Neville Longbottom had, more or less, taken on responsibility for the D.A. He had planned meetings and rallied students, all very discreetly. He had the help of his friends, especially Ginny and Luna, though, so it wasn’t like he was overloaded. Now, as he headed home to his grandmother’s house, he realized just how tired he was.

Luna’s father, Xenophilius Lovegood, the owner of the Quibbler magazine, had been printing his support for Harry. She was very proud of her father, it was pretty brave defying the Ministry and Voldemort, after all. But lately, his letters had been a bit… aloof, and she was worried. She was almost certain that the Ministry was threatening him.

Ginny, for her part, had a head full of Draco Malfoy. She was still flustered over the incident they’d just had in that classroom. The infinite sadness, and… something else, in his eyes had struck her so that she felt alternately hot and cold all over. Her first thought had been to kiss him, the second to run. Naturally she chose the second.

The three friends sat silently for a minute, not a single word spoken in greeting, collecting themselves. Then, at the exact same time, they all sighed. Instantly they collapsed in laughter.

Neville was clutching his stomach, rolling around in his seat. Luna was giggling lightly, a hand pressed across her chest. Ginny had her head thrown back as she let all of her tension out in one of her usual, hearty laughs. They made quite a sight together.

When they calmed down, they looked at each other, eyes glinting merrily. Neville was the first to speak. “I guess we’ve all been a little tense, huh?” he said.

Luna nodded. “It’s very easy to get tense when times are troubled. My daddy always says that everyone needs to make time to relax, no matter how busy they are.”

Ginny smiled fondly at the blonde girl. Most people, on meeting Luna, thought her to be nutters with all her talk of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and what-not. But she really was a brilliant, insightful girl.

The three friends spent the next while making plans for their return to Hogwarts after the hols. Neville had some ideas to rally more students to the cause and, one by one, he laid them out for the girls.

Ginny was impressed. Neville may not have been particularly good in school, but he was smart. He’d taken a lot of responsibility with the Trio gone and was handling it brilliantly. Gone was the shy, fumbling boy who’d first come to Hogwarts all those years ago, and in his place was a confident, brave young man.

Luna engaged in the discussion, though her heart didn’t appear to be in it. Her expression went vague and sad (well… more vague than usual, anyway) a couple of times. Ginny noticed that instead of saying ‘we could,’ she mostly said ‘you could.’

After an hour of discussing plans, Neville got up and went in search of the trolley, complaining about how hungry he was. As soon as she was sure he was gone, Ginny turned to Luna and demanded, “What’s going on? You’re acting really strange.”

Luna hummed as if she hadn’t been paying attention. “Oh, nothing,” was her reply, even as a shadow of something contrary passed across her face. “I’m just fine.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Ginny argued, watching her friend closely. “You keep talking as if you don’t plan on being a part of everything after vacation.”

Luna shook her head, slightly, her ever-present radish earrings swaying. “Oh, no. Just a mistake.” Her voice was feathery and distant. “I just slipped up a bit.” She smiled. “Tired, you know.”

Ginny wasn’t satisfied, but she decided that it wouldn’t do to press her friend. She had her reasons, and that was good enough. But she couldn’t stop herself from being worried.

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, as Neville’s return to the compartment prevented any more discussion. He held pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes in his hand. “The trolley wasn’t far,” he told the girls. “In fact, if I’d stayed, it would have been here quickly enough and saved me the trouble.”

As they ate their snacks, the three friends talked about less significant things, like what they would do for the two weeks they had at home, free from school obligations. They all agreed on one thing: they’d be sleeping late every day!

The train pulled into the station long before any of them expected it, caught up as they were in their conversation. As they steamed to a stop, Ginny wondered why it was so quiet. Platform 9¾ was usually teeming with family members anxiously waiting to greet the Hogwarts students, yelling out hellos and being all around excited. It was always mayhem and confusion. Today, however, all that could be heard was the noise from inside the train.

Ginny pushed open the window of their compartment and poked out her head to see what was going on. She noticed other students up and down the train doing the same. She forced herself not to look for Draco’s tell-tale white-blond hair. Instead she focused on the large group of imposing men standing in the center of the platform.

The parents were huddled in the background, looking nervously around. The men seemed to be holding them back, though no one was actually moving. They all wore heavy, dark cloaks that reminded Ginny of Death Eaters, except for the Ministry insignia.

Neville stuck his head out above Ginny’s. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What do they want?”

One of the men stepped forward and, with a magically amplified voice, announced, “No one is to leave their seats! The Ministry of Magic has received a tip about a dangerous person or persons being aboard this train!“

At this, the students erupted into worried exclamations and even some screams. They yelled back and forth about the possibilities of that statement, and speculation about who it could be ran back and forth.

The speaker raised his hands and boomed for quiet. When everyone had calmed down enough, he continued, “We must ask that no one leave the train until we are able to search it. This person must be apprehended!”

Ginny and Neville pulled their heads back in and turned to face Luna. Their Ravenclaw friend was still sitting in her seat, wearing an expression of complete calm. She had a copy of the Quibbler in her lap and was softly stroking the cover, on which there was a large picture of Harry with a caption begging support.

“No matter what happens,” she began, her voice eerily soft, “promise me you won’t panic or do anything foolish.”

Ginny and Neville exchanged nervous looks. They were unsure what to make of this. Luna often spoke cryptically, but this was a whole new level. What could she possibly think was going to happen?

Luna went on, hardly noticing her friends’ uncertainty, “Promise?” When Ginny and Neville nodded their agreement, she said, “I was visited by a Prophetic Spielbol last night. They show you the future in your dreams, you know.”

The other two didn’t know, but they nodded anyway, hoping she would explain what it was she meant.

“It told me that everything that is about to happen, no matter what it is, will be a good thing.”

So much for that. They knew no more now than they did before. Did Luna even know? Neville glanced at Ginny and she shrugged, not having anything at all to say.

Several minutes passed in complete and total silence. They could hear the search going on in other parts of the train. Suddenly there was a yell of “Here!” and the door was flung open.

Luna took Ginny’s hand as two of the large men stepped into the compartment. “Tell my father I love him.” Then she stood, quite calmly, and faced the Ministry men.

They grabbed her by the arms and said, “Miss Lovegood. You are hereby placed under arrest for conspiracy against the Ministry of Magic and supporting the criminal, Harry Potter, in his illegal activities.”

Neville stood up, gasping indignantly, and would have argued, but Luna put out her hand. “Remember what I said, Neville. This is supposed to happen. Do not interfere. You’ll only make it worse.”

As Luna was led unresisting out of the compartment, her face still calm and serene, Ginny stood as well. The two remaining friends wrapped their arms around each other for support. Ginny buried her face in Neville’s shoulder and cried. He stroked his hands up and down her back as tears streamed from his own eyes.

This war was steadily becoming worse. As if it wasn’t bad enough that the Ministry was doing very little against Voldemort, and there being Death Eaters in charge of the school, the midnight raids and unexplained disappearances, deaths, and attacks, now they had to come along and arrest students right off the train from school? Was the world going insane?

What next? Would Thicknesse, the current Minister, suddenly don a white mask and black cloak, sporting a fancy tattoo on his arm? He certainly wasn’t a very good Minister. More likely to hide beneath his desk than face a problem. Really, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he caved.

“Oh, how sad,” mocked a menacing voice from the door.

Glancing up quickly, Ginny saw Pansy Parkinson and her minion following, Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass, smirking at her.

“The poor little Gryffindors have finally discovered that their dear, stupid friend is a criminal!”

Neville stiffened momentarily, then pushed Ginny behind him. He reached for his wand, but Pansy was faster.

“Petrificus Totalus!” she yelled, her face turning a shade of purple that would have rivaled Ron.

Ginny gasped as Neville’s arms and legs snapped straight and he pitched forward. He narrowly missed striking his head on the edge of the open door.

Ginny whipped out her wand fast as lightning and said the first spell that came to mind, “Aguamenti!” A spray of water shot from the end of her wand, sending the three Slytherin girls screaming from the train.

Ginny knelt by Neville and quickly unpetrified him. “Thanks,” he said, pulling himself to his feet.

She shrugged and shook her head. “Who would have thought that something as simple as a bit of water could get rid of them so easily,” she muttered with a smile.

They chuckled stiffly, still reeling over Luna’s arrest, and walked out of the compartment. They said good-bye when they reached the platform, and Ginny ran over to her parents who were waiting anxiously. They hugged each other fiercely.

Then Ginny spotted Mr. Lovegood standing off to one side, his hands clenched tightly in front of him. He looked much more frazzled than he had at Bill’s wedding the summer before.

She pulled away from her family and made her way over to him. Mr. Lovegood seemed to know at once and reached out his arms to her. Ginny fell into them, crying softly. “She said to tell you that she loves you,” she whispered through her tears.

“Thank you,” Xenophilius said. He patted her shoulder awkwardly and sighed sadly.

Draco arrived home and was met at the door by his mother. She pulled him into a hug and exclaimed, “Oh, my dear! I’ve missed you so much!”

Draco looked down at her and smiled fondly. Whatever his father was or did, this woman was always there. A bulwark figure that Draco could cling to. They weren’t close, by any means, as showing emotion of any kind had always been a weakness to the Malfoys. But there was still some sort of bond between them.

Now, after everything that had happened, and was still happening, he noticed how pale and drawn she looked. Much like himself, in fact. The last couple of years had been hard on everyone.

Narcissa smiled back. “Now,” she said. “Up to your room. I managed to convince your father to wait until tomorrow to tell you the plan by saying that you would be tired from your trip. He’s very excited about all this and wants you to be awake enough to appreciate it.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Draco replied, kissing her cheek. “I am tired.”

Handing his luggage off to a house-elf, Draco headed upstairs to his room to settle in. When he got there, he looked around at the place that had always been his haven. The only room in the whole house he could hide in, as his father always assumed if he ran away, that he would go anywhere but there.

He eyed the green and silver decorations that covered every part of his room. Finding that it reminded him too much of school and the things that had happened there, he waved his wand.

The curtains and bedclothes turned a deep, rich, charcoal-ish black. The posters on his wall changed from waving, glum-looking Slytherin Quidditch players to flying, fire-breathing dragons. The walls themselves became white.

Better, he thought with a nod.

Draco waved his wand again and his trunk began to unpack itself. He sat down on his bed with a book while clothes and school supplies whizzed around the room. Before he’d even begun to read, however, a house-elf appeared beside him with a crack.

Groaning, Draco turned to the creature. “What, Rinky?” he asked grumpily.

“Mistress is sending Rinky to ask if young Master is needing anything,” was the quiet reply. House-elves knew better than to speak loudly.

“I don’t need anything,” Draco answered. He hesitated a minute, then determinedly added, “Thank you, Rinky.”

“Master is thanking Rinky?” the elf gasped, seeming genuinely surprised, which was really to be expected. “Rinky is only doing her job. Rinky is not needing thanks.”

“Nonsense!” Draco told her. “You are doing wonderfully and I want to thank you.” He was kind of shocked at what he was saying, but it did make him feel pretty good.

“But Master is never thanking Rinky!” the elf continued, her voice rising slowly in pitch.

“Yes, that’s true, Rinky. But I’ve decided that I need to do better. To be better. I have always been cruel and selfish.”

“No!” Rinky fairly threw herself at him. “Master must not say such things about himself! Master is very good! Master must be good to say thank you!”

Now it was Draco’s turn to be surprised. “Well. Thank you again, Rinky. You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”

“Master is welcome.” And then Rinky disappeared with another crack.

Draco sat silently for a minute, thinking about what had just occurred. All of his life he had thought of himself as better than everyone. If anyone did anything for him, it was because it was their duty. He couldn’t remember a time in which he’d said thank you to anyone ‘beneath’ him.

This last bit made him stop. Who really was better than who? How was that decided? Draco had always been important because his family was important. His family was important because one of his ancestors managed to make a name for himself and that sort of thing carried over.

But Voldemort didn’t have any family and he was the most feared wizard… probably ever. So much so that no one even said his name.

Draco thought on this for a long time before finally deciding: it wasn’t any real power or greatness that put Voldemort in his position of control. It was fear. People were afraid of him, so they didn’t stand up to him. And people were afraid of him because he’d already shown that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

This thought caused Draco to sit up straight. I won’t be afraid! he told himself. When Father tells me about the plan, I’m going to go straight to Professor McGonagall! She’s the only one I know I can trust.

Having decided this, he settled back in with his book. He remained in his room the rest of the day, enjoying the quiet.

The next day, however, was not so quiet. Lucius insisted that Draco had had enough rest and needed to come down for breakfast. He declared that one day in bed was enough for anyone who wasn’t sick.

The meal was stiff and formal, just like all the other meals the Malfoys ate together. Draco had never really considered, until the year before, just how formidable his father was. As a young boy, he’d idolized the man, desiring to be just like him. The way he could command anyone to do anything and it would be done.

Now Draco understood the reason for this. There was a dark gleam in Lucius’ eyes that seemed to say “Obey me, or I’ll make your life a living hell!”

Looking at his father, Draco felt a chill run up his spine. He’d never been on the receiving end of that look. He’d managed to emulate it, not really realizing just how intimidating it was.

The meal ended at last and Lucius disappeared into his study. Narcissa leaned close to Draco as soon as they were alone and whispered, “Do not be afraid of him, son. He is a powerful man, yes, but he would never do anything to endanger you.”

Of course not, Draco thought bitterly. I’m too valuable to be wasted in such a way.

Draco hugged his mother and tried to reassure her that he wasn’t afraid. An image of someone else recently trying to comfort him flashed through his memory.

Narcissa noticed the change in his expression and jumped on the realization. “You’ve met a girl,” she said aloud.

“What?” Where did that come from? Did she know something? Surprised thoughts shot through Draco’s head rapidly.

Narcissa shook her head, but the smile was still there. Draco wanted to talk to her some more, but at that moment, Lucius opened the door and called him in. All thoughts of Ginny Weasley fled his mind as Draco went into the dark room.

Lucius sat behind the large mahogany desk and motioned for Draco to take the seat across from him. He folded his hands in front of him and stared at his son for a long minute, as though trying to see inside his head.

Draco shifted slightly in his chair, grateful that his father was terrible at Legilimency. He would never know the thoughts that were on his mind at that very moment.

Finally, Lucius spoke. “I am glad to say, Draco, that the Dark Lord does not seem to be angry with you over your failure last year. I think he must be more forgiving than I am.”

Ha! Right. It took an awful lot of willpower not to roll his eyes.

“Now…” Here he pulled out a bunch of papers. “The task that has been set for you is a fairly simple one… little room for mistake.” He gave Draco a stern look.

“You must determine what wards are being used to protect Hogwarts and relay the information back to me. I will then give it to Him.”

Draco nodded to show that he understood. Lucius handed him a few of the papers from the stack. On them, Draco discovered, were hand-written instructions for spells.

These are spells I am going to teach you that will enable you to detect the defensive magic,” Lucius told him. “While you’re here, we will be studying together all day, every day, until you can do them properly.”

He handed Draco a couple more papers and explained, “This is a set of instructions for a complex spying spell. It is an invention of the Dark Lord himself. He spent months working on it. Undetectable by most magic.

“When I teach you this,” he went on, “ you are going to guard the secret with your life. If this were to fall into enemy hands… we’d be done and I’ll kill you myself. It’s a valuable asset.

“Once you get back to Hogwarts, you are to place this charm over the school. Be discreet. Anyone who knows it’s there can tap into the magical frequency it emits and know exactly what is going on. Do you understand?”

Draco thought over everything his father had just told him, allowing the information to cement itself in his head. Very slowly, a sly, almost evil grin broke over his face. Lucius gave a gleeful laugh when he saw it.

Ginny laughed happily as the wind blew her hair out behind her. Being on a broom again was exhilarating. She executed a sharp pivot, flying low over the ground. She loved this feeling. The freedom and tranquility that came from losing herself in the sensation of whipping threw the air.

Fred flew at her from above yelling, “Here I come, little sis!”

Ginny avoided him easily. George, Fred’s twin, gave her a thumb’s up from the other side of the yard.

Ginny smiled and gave a mock bow from her broom. After the confinements of Hogwarts, being home was amazing. Even having so many people crammed into a space as small as the Burrow was better than the unreasonable rules Snape and the Carrows had set.

They had been flying for an hour when Mrs. Weasley poked her head out the back door and called for dinner. Ginny and the twins reluctantly landed and put their brooms back in the shed.

Ginny made it into the house first, only to be grabbed by a pair of large, scar-covered arms. “Charlie!” she squealed.

Charlie, the second of the Weasley children, had been living in Romania for several years, working with dragons. It was a rare thing for him to be able to come home for family gatherings.

Twisting around, Ginny looked into her brother’s face. “You made it!” she cried. “When did you get here?”

Charlie laughed and gave Ginny a squeeze. “I arrived about twenty minutes ago. I’ve been watching you fly,” he told her. “You’re pretty good.”

Fred and George, who had come through the door as he was speaking, laughed. “Oh, yeah!” Fred exclaimed. “We taught her everything she knows.”

George nodded his agreement. “Yes. Why she ever decided to be a Chaser instead of a Beater is beyond us.”

“Shows how grateful she is for our guidance and assistance over the years!” Fred added, punctuating his words with an affectionate punch to his sister’s arm.

Ginny grinned. “I just didn’t want to take away from the legend of Fred and George Weasley. Charlie was Seeker, and Ron was Keeper. We needed to cover all the positions.”

“We are Gred and Forge,” George corrected.

“Quite right,” Fred confirmed.

Ginny laughed. “Of course. How silly of me!”

A soft, feminine cough from the corner interrupted the conversation. It was a sound rarely heard in the Weasley household, where six young men and one girl (who only had brothers to look up to) made as much noise as they could just to be heard above the others. So, naturally, everyone turned towards it.

Ginny blinked in surprise. A very beautiful, dark-haired young woman sat on one of the many stools, watching the scene with a twinkle in her eye. The dark green robes she wore clung to her perfect hourglass figure and her legs were crossed neatly beneath her.

Charlie gasped and jumped to her side. “I’m so sorry, my dear!” he said to the angelic creature. “Everyone, this is Martha Wollby. My fiancée.”

Ginny clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh! Really, Charlie? Engaged! It’s wonderful to meet you, Martha.”

Fred and George patted Charlie on the back. “All right!” said Fred.

“Way to go!” said George.

“Boys!” Molly admonished. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Aw, Mum!” George exclaimed. “We were just expressing our delight!”

Martha stood and wrapped her arm around Charlie’s waist. “It is all right, Mrs. Weasley,” she assured the older woman in careful, deliberate English. “Charlie warned me that his twin brothers could be… what did you call them, dear? Oh, yes. Ob-nox-ious.”

Charlie gave his fiancée a hug. “You see? I’ve prepared her for the oddities of our family.” They smiled sweetly at each other.

“Oh, brilliant,” said Mr. Weasley, who had come into the room unseen. “Who knows what she’s expecting. I hope we don’t disappoint her.”

Everyone chuckled.



~///~



“Focus, Draco!” Lucius yelled for the umpteenth time. “You’re letting go too soon.”

The library of Malfoy Manor was littered with pieces of paper and dirty dishes. Draco and his father had been holed up in the room all day, practicing the new detection spells. They hadn’t even come out for meals.

House-elves had been allowed in to bring food and to take the last dishes, but other than that, they were completely alone. Narcissa had been occupying herself with teas and parties. The only time they had all been together all holiday was Christmas day.

In the weeks that Draco had been home, he had very slowly learned the detection spells he was being taught. The only one had been unable to produce in his lessons was the spying spell he was supposed to place over the school. He had worked hard to memorize the concept, but application was proving difficult.

Lucius was getting frustrated with the multiple fouled attempts, though he tried not to show it. He was anxious for Draco to prove himself to Voldemort, so he chose to ‘encourage’ him. He made him practice it every morning, first thing, and every night, right before bed. In between, they continued working on the others.

Carefully, Draco muttered the incantation for a complicated spell again, and this time, a flickering image appeared.

“Yes, that’s it,” Lucius said.

Draco sagged with relief. This particular spell had been difficult to master. He did it again to celebrate, glad to have finally finished.

“You’ve set up a shocker?” he asked his father. This particular shocker was on the lesser side of the Dark Arts. Illegal and mildly dangerous if you didn’t know what you were doing.

Lucius gave a self-satisfied smirk. “Yes. Any unauthorized person attempting to enter this house will be struck with quite a dazzling lights display.”

Draco tossed aside the notes he had made for the spell and took a long drink from the replenishing glass of water by his side. Glancing up at the clock on the mantle, he was startled to find that it was only seven o’clock. With how tired he was feeling, it could easily have been the next day.

“Now,” Lucius said, drawing Draco’s attention back to him. “Let’s try the spying spell again. Here’s the incantation.”

Draco took the paper his father was holding out to him. “I can’t do this one, Father,” he said, trying to keep a groan out of his voice. “I’m trying. It just doesn’t seem to work for me.”

Lucius struggled to disguise his anger. His eyes flashed as he said, “Don’t get frustrated, Draco. I can plainly see that it’s too difficult for you. But you must try it one more time. A true Malfoy is persistent. We do not accept failure. We fight it. Now begin.”

These were the sorts of words that had always made Draco attack Harry Potter at school. The sort that made him desperately practice on his broom for hours and hours to try to beat the hero of the world in Quidditch. His grades had never gone below an E and people feared him because of his father saying these things to him.

All of his life he’d heard what Malfoys did and didn’t do. A veiled way of saying, ‘Right now you’re not good enough, shape up.’ Family honor was vastly important in the minds of the elite of society.

Draco sighed and looked down at the instructions. He lifted his wand and mumbled something similar to the words he was reading. He growled deeply as purple sparks shot out of his wand.

“All right, all right,” Lucius smoothly said. “Just try again.”

Concentrating as hard as he could, Draco waved his wand. A faint glow appeared in front of him and he nearly jumped, startled. The light was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

Draco dropped his head into his hands and shook it back and forth.

Lucius just waved his hands in an unconcerned manner, though Draco could sense his disappointment. The senior Malfoy had never been particularly good with completely masking his emotions, especially with people who knew him well.

“No matter. No matter. The Dark Lord will find another way to get this done. At least you can detect the wards.” He looked away, but not before Draco saw his frustration.

The two Malfoys began to sift through the papers on the floor, organizing them into some semblance of order. “Let’s try this one,” Lucius suggested in a steely voice. They stayed at it for several more hours.

Draco struggled against falling asleep as his father tested him on what he’d learned. Finally, Lucius was satisfied. He gathered up all of the information and dismissed his son carelessly, with a simple, “See that you’re up in time. Malfoys are never late.”

Draco dragged himself upstairs to his room. Making sure the door was locked, he cast a silencing spell on the room. Then, carefully and deliberately, he cast the spying spell over Malfoy Manor.

Ginny sat down at the table and pulled a towel toward her. As she folded it, she watched Charlie’s fiancée, Martha. The tall young woman had knotted her mass of dark hair on top of her head to keep it out of her face. Her eyes were squinted tight as she concentrated on mending a pair of Arthur’s trousers with tinier stitches than Ginny had ever managed.

The Romanian girl had kept herself busy the entire week. She had washed dishes, mopped floors, and hung out laundry alongside the others, all while wearing a cheery smile. Ginny was, admittedly, a bit surprised. Martha’s long, delicate fingers did not seem to have seen hard work at any point in her life.

Molly sat down next to Ginny and asked casually, “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is,” Ginny replied. Until she had met Martha, she had not believed it possible for any human to be so beautiful.

And yet she worked as diligently as any other person. She didn’t worry over broken fingernails as other girls did, or spend hours arranging her hair. It amazed Ginny that someone with Martha’s looks could be so selfless.

It didn’t take long to finish the towels, so after folding the last one, Ginny moved to sit with Martha. She grabbed a pair of socks and began to sew. Molly smiled and disappeared into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner.

“Tell me about yourself,” Ginny said to the other girl.

Martha looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if we’re going to be sisters, I’d like to get to know you.”

“That is sweet, Ginny. Thank you.”

Ginny blushed and shook her head. “It’s not, really. It’s just the way we do things. Making friends and all that.”

Martha nodded. “You know I’m from Romania. I was born and raised in a small town at the base of a group of mountains, just one of the small, lesser-known ranges. My parents were both magical, but they were also both Muggle-born.”

Ginny nodded. She knew a couple of Muggle-borns herself… several close friends, even. Hermione, of course, and the Creeveys.

Then Martha surprised her. “I am a Squib,” she stated, very straight-forward, staring fixedly at the wall. “My parents were a bit ashamed of me.”

“That’s terrible!” Ginny exclaimed. “There’s nothing wrong with being a Squib!”

“Thank you, Ginny. Your brother told me you were kind-hearted.

“But my parents were very proud of their magical abilities,” she continued, her English slow and deliberate. “To have produced something that would not be an actual part of the wizarding world, especially during a time when Squibs were less desirable amongst their kind, was un-unac-unacceptable. They loved me, of course. I was their child, after all. But they were still embarrassed.

She heaved a sigh and seemed to drift off, her eyes still focused on the trousers in her hands, but clearly not seeing them. Then she shook her head and went on.

“I have two younger brothers, twins named Andrew and Carter. They were both wizards. My parents were so proud when they got their letters from school.

“When they bought the boys’ school things, they gave me a cat so I would not feel left out. They had to leave me at home with one of my aunts while they went to the train station because we would have been ridiculed.”

Ginny smiled sympathetically. “You must have been disappointed.”

“I was at first,” Martha said. “But then…”

She broke off and her brow furrowed in thought.

“You see,” she finally went on, “two years ago, Carter decided that just being a wizard was not good enough. He came to England to be a Death Eater. He… Andrew was killed trying to stop him.”

Ginny’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, which had dropped open in horror. “Oh, Martha! I’m so sorry!”

The Romanian girl shook her head a bit sadly. “It’s all right. It was so long ago.”

They sat in silence, each thinking about the past. Ginny was shocked that Martha’s life had been so sad. It reminded her a lot of Draco Malfoy. Parents being disappointed and a Death Eater in the family.

Martha spoke first. “My parents took it pretty hard at first; but then they told me that they were glad I had been safe at home and didn’t have to be a part of that whole thing. My being a Squib wasn‘t so bad anymore.”

Ginny, wanting to change the subject, as Draco Malfoy was now so present in her mind, said, “How did you meet Charlie?”

A radiant smile spread over Martha’s face and her eyes lit up. “I was staying with a friend of mine. She had been Carter’s girlfriend and we grew very close after the incident. Like grieving buddies, I think you call them.

“Anyway, we were out shopping one day, and Charlie gave us some assistance with our heavy packages. He invited me to dinner and we’ve been together ever since.”

“He must have been smitten,” Ginny said, with a smile of her own. “You captured his heart with you beauty!”

Martha blushed and waved away the compliment. “How about you?” she asked. “Who is the young man you are in love with?”

“What?” Ginny gasped. “I’m not in love with any young man. I dated Harry Potter for a while last year, but…”

“No, no. You are in love with one now! You are trying to trick me!” Martha shook her finger at Ginny, laughing lightly. “But I can see it plain as day. You have a very expressive face. Who is it?”

“Really!” Ginny insisted, feeling her smile start to fade. Surely if she were in love with someone, she would know. That seemed like the normal way of things. “I am not in love with anyone!”

Martha nodded. “I have seen you. You smile for no reason. You fall silent in the middle of conversations. You get this look sometimes, and I can tell you are thinking of a special boy.”

“I do not!” Ginny was confused now, despite her continued denial. Had she been doing what Martha described? Even if she had been… what boy would she have been thinking of? She hadn’t been around that many in the past few months; except for her friends, and they didn‘t count. She didn’t have a crush on Harry anymore, and none of the other boys struck her fancy.

Once again, Draco’s face flashed before her eyes. Why was she thinking about him so much? There wasn’t even anything this time to trigger it.

Martha suddenly exclaimed, “Aha! There he is now!” She waved a hand at Ginny’s face excitedly. “You are thinking of him again. You cannot fool me!”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “What? No! No, I’m not in love with him!” she said a little too firmly for her own comfort. She tried again. “He’s not my type.”

Can you say understatement? Ginny thought to herself. Draco Malfoy not my type? That’s like saying ‘The grass is not red’. It just isn’t. It’s obvious. One of the basic rules for the Universe.

“Who is ‘he’?” Martha asked, clearly not ready to give up yet.

“Just a boy from school.” Ginny waved her hand absently, trying to indicate that it was inconsequential.

“So I was right.” Martha leaned back, looking unmistakably pleased. “There is someone.”

Ginny blinked in surprise. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t have to.”

Impulsively, Ginny glanced around to make sure they were alone. Then she leaned closer to Martha. Sensing a forthcoming bit of heart-to-heart, Martha leaned in as well.

“I don’t love him,” Ginny quietly confided, “but… I don’t know what to think. He used to be so awful! Always attacking the other students, especially my brother and his friends.

“But lately,” she added, “he’s been… different. I wouldn’t say nicer, but he’s quiet and sad. He doesn’t start fights like he used to. I want to help him, but I don’t know how.”

She hesitated, then said, “There was an incident recently…. He needed help and I was the only one there. So I took him to a secret room and took care of him.”

“Ah. I see,” Martha said, nodding her head. “You feel the compassion for this boy.”

Ginny sighed. “Yes. I can’t tell you his story. It isn’t mine to tell. He just seems so… I can’t describe it!”

“You know,” Martha told her thoughtfully. “Muggles have a theory that nurses are more likely to fall in love with their patients. Maybe you are feeling something like that?”

Ginny dropped the finished socks back into the basket and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think I am in love with him. I…” She broke off.

I what? she thought. How do I feel about him?

Martha watched Ginny as thoughts flitted through her mind, showing plainly on her face, of course. After a couple of minutes she observed, “Okay. Not love. But you do feel something for him. Just give it some more time.”

Draco finished supervising his trunk unpacking in his dormitory and made his way down the stairs. He hadn’t forgotten his promise to himself that he would speak to McGonagall about his new task. He only hoped that she would listen to him and know what to do.

In the common room, the chatter and bustle of students greeting each other and settling back in was overwhelming. Blaise waved at Draco from his seat in front of the fire, his other arm around a short, curvy blonde. Draco waved back, but didn’t stop walking. If he hesitated at all, he knew he would lose his nerve.

Which was part of the reason he hadn’t waited to seek out his teacher. He was already nervous about going to her with this information after all the animosity between them due to his name and his family‘s connection with Voldemort. He knew if he waited at all, he would begin to think of reasons why he shouldn’t do it and convince himself he would be all right on his own. Which would more than likely end up in disaster.

Several minutes later, Draco was knocking on the door to Professor McGonagall’s office. He heard the muffled sound of chairs scooting around and voices that seemed to be hurrying to finish a conversation. Finally he heard, “Come in!” ring out from behind the door in McGonagall’s distinctive, stern voice.

Draco squared his shoulders and pushed open the door. He stepped into the room, hoping he looked confident and in control.

“Draco?”

He glanced up at the sound of his name to see none other than Ginny Weasley standing there. She smiled shakily at him.

Were those tears in her eyes? Had she been crying? What had happened? Was she hurt?

“Ginny?” Draco said worriedly, taking a step toward her. His arms actually tingled with the desire to reach out and hold her. He didn’t really know why, but the thought of something happening to make the spirited girl cry made him want to comfort her.

She raised her hand, palm outward. “I’m fine,” she reassured him. “It’s just Luna…” She broke off and turned quickly away, covering her face with her hands.

Draco reached out toward her, but didn’t touch her. He looked up uncertainly at Professor McGonagall, who had been watching them silently.

She stood up then, and moved around the desk. Leading Ginny to a chair against the wall, she softly told Draco of Luna Lovegood‘s arrest on the train at King’s Cross. Draco remembered her as an odd Ravenclaw girl a year below him. One of Ginny’s friends. He couldn’t think of anything to say, though he desperately wanted to say something.

“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said after a minute of silence, handing Ginny a handkerchief. “If you will come with me to the Transfiguration classroom, you may tell me why you have come to see me today.”

“Actually, professor,” Draco replied. “I think Miss Weasley would also be interested in what I have to say. She’s been somewhat involved in this matter for a while.”

“I see,” she said with a disapproving expression.

Ginny sat a little straighter in her chair, her curiosity obviously piqued, and raised her eyebrows at him. She was still sniffling a bit, but had calmed her crying.

“My father sent me a letter a couple of months ago,” Draco explained, then cleared his throat uncomfortably. “He wrote that the… You-Know-Who… wanted to give me another task. Gin- Miss Weasley happened across me… er, after I’d read the letter and, er… I couldn’t keep the information to myself.”

Ginny’s lips twitched in amusement. She hid her face behind the handkerchief under pretense of wiping away her tears. Obviously she was remembering the actual events leading up to the discovery of his letter.

Professor McGonagall leaned her forearms across her desk. “Why are you choosing to tell me about this now?” she wondered. Her face was perfectly blank; there was nothing whatsoever in her eyes.

Draco understood that she was trying to be polite and not say what she really meant, which was “Why didn’t you come to me right away?” He smirked and answered her unasked question. “Because I did not have any of the particulars until I went home for the Christmas holidays.

“My father decided it was too dangerous to include the information in something as easily intercepted as a letter. I felt that it would be better to know what I was being asked to do before I spoke to you in order to keep our meetings to a minimum; and therefore avoid suspicion.”

McGonagall nodded and a smile finally broke through. “Well said. And so, I must ask, what are the details of this task?”

Draco pulled a packet out of his pocket and enlarged it to its original size. “These are a set of detection spells that my father taught my over the last two weeks. I used the Geminio charm to duplicate them so they wouldn’t be missed.” He handed the papers to McGonagall, who looked a bit surprised as she took them.

“I am supposed to use these spells to determine what charms are being used to safeguard the school,” he continued. “I am to then relay the information to my father, who will, in turn, give it to… him.”

Ginny sat back in her chair, a stunned expression on her face. “Why does he want to know about the protections around the school?” she asked, even though the dread in her eyes indicated that she already knew the answer.

“I can only assume that he means to attack Hogwarts at some point. My father didn’t actually say, but it was easy to guess.”

McGonagall stacked the papers neatly in a drawer at the bottom of her desk, then proceeded to lock the drawer with a complicated spell. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for your help,” she said. “I shall speak with our… trustworthy professors and we will decide on the best course of action. In the meantime…:

“Oh! Professor!” Draco interrupted, earning himself a stern look. “I nearly forgot!”

He pulled out one last sheet of parchment. “This is everything you need to know in order to spy on Malfoy Manor. I placed the charm myself before leaving. My father is under the impression that I am unable to perform it.”

“Brilliant!” Ginny breathed. Her eyes were bright from her tears and her cheeks were flushed from excitement. She gave him a look that seemed to say, ‘Well done!’

Draco felt himself beginning to flush in embarrassment and pleasure and turned away from her approving gaze. He noticed that, thankfully, Professor McGonagall was reading the spell and had not noticed this exchange.

She looked up finally, and said, “This is like no spell I’ve ever seen. Do you know where it’s from?”

“You-Know-Who invented it. Supposedly it is virtually undetectable. We’ll soon see, I wager. If my father sends me a letter complaining about someone spying on our home, we’ll know for sure.”

Ginny chuckled. The sound made him smile. He turned to look at her again and was somewhat taken aback at just how attractive she looked.

Her dark auburn hair was slightly tussled and floated around her face in little wisps. Her brown eyes, ringed with red from crying, were dancing. A smile was tugging at the corner of her lips.

Draco felt something in his chest clench tightly as he looked at her. He found himself unable to breathe properly. He knew he was staring, but he didn’t want to look away. Why did he feel like this? Why would he suddenly be noticing that the freckles across her nose were cute rather than ridiculous? She was still the same annoying Weasley girl, wasn’t she?

Various images flitted across his memory. A smile. A sneaking glance over a shoulder in the halls between classes. Soft words spoken through a drunken haze. Something was different. She’d been kind to him. No one had ever been kind to him before.

The proud, Malfoy part of Draco tried to convince him that it was just pity; and a Malfoy does not need pity. But as he thought about it, Draco realized that the blushes that accompanied her smiles and the gentle hands that had carried him into the Room of Requirement were not simply signs of pity. Could she possibly feel something for him?

“Meet me in the kitchens?” he suddenly asked, surprising himself.

Why did I just ask her that? Surely I don’t have feelings as well. I don’t like her. Right?

And yet, he held his breath, waiting anxiously for her answer; hoping she’d say yes, wanting to talk to her more… wanting her to like him.

She smiled. “Alright.”

“Meet me in the kitchens?” Draco asked.

Ginny hesitated for half a second. He had been giving her a really odd look, and she wasn’t sure quite how to take it. He looked happy, nervous, disbelieving, and angry, all in close succession. His question had caught her completely off guard.

After all, she hadn’t exactly expected him to invite her to meet him. Last she knew, he hated her and wanted nothing to do with her. Especially since their last meeting involved her telling him she had read his letter while he’d been passed out on a couch from alcohol.

Finally she smiled. “Alright,” she said. To herself, she added, It can’t hurt. And I’m kind of curious about what he wants.

Draco grinned and mumbled something under his breath as he left the office. Ginny thought she heard the words “bloody fool”. What did that mean? Was he talking about her?

Professor McGonagall broke the silence that had fallen over the room by clearing her throat and saying, “You and Mr. Malfoy seem to have made peace. I’m glad for that.”

Ginny jumped. She had forgotten that the Transfiguration teacher was there. “I don’t know about that,” she replied nervously. “He’s still Malfoy, after all. I’m keeping my eyes open.”

“Draco is nothing like his father; he’s just proven that,” McGonagall told her. “With a bit of time, and, perhaps, friendship, something he’s never had much of, he will become a good man.”

Ginny sighed. “I hope you’re right. He is different this year, though. Did you notice?”

McGonagall nodded. “I did. He hasn’t pulled a prank in my class the entire semester. His idiot friend, however…”

Giggling, Ginny asked, “I guess you don’t like Blaise Zabini? D- Malfoy likes him, though. They’ve been friends forever.”

“At least he’s had one,” McGonagall said sadly. “Slytherin House is not the place to make a decent man with all of that distrust. Real friendship, I’ve noticed, is a rare thing.”

When Ginny left her head of house’s office, she realized that Draco hadn’t told her what time to meet him. He’d seemed kind of anxious, however, so she decided it was a safe bet he had meant right away and headed toward the kitchens. She’d missed the welcome back feast anyway, so even if she was wrong, she could have something to eat while she waited.

Arriving at the painting depicting a rather large bowl filled with fruit, she paused to listen. She couldn’t hear anything. Ginny reached out and tickled the pear. It giggled and a handle appeared. She grabbed it and swung the door open.

House-elves were running around, cleaning up after the large breakfast in the Great Hall. They glanced up at her when she entered., but turned immediately back to their chores. Ginny grabbed the arm of a passing elf who was wearing a paper bag over its shoulders.

A hole had been torn for its head and arms and it made a funny crinkling sound when it walked. “Yes, miss?” it squeaked.

“Is Draco Malfoy here?” Ginny asked, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous sight the elf made. “I’m supposed to meet him.”

The elf nodded its head enthusiastically, causing its large ears to flap into its eyes. “Yes. Mr. Malfoy is by the fire. Sukie will show you, miss.” And with that, it grabbed Ginny’s hand and pulled her forward.

Sukie dragged her all the way to the massive stone fireplace that took up a whole wall of the kitchens. Ginny could see the back of Malfoy’s pale head in front of it. She crashed into the back of the elf, having not been paying attention when it stopped. Her attention had been riveted on the silvery strands of Draco’s hair.

The elf struggled up from the floor and looked up into Draco’s amused face. “Sukie has brought your friend, sir.” It bowed and backed away.

“Thank you, Sukie!” Draco called after it. To Ginny, he said, “Smooth entrance, Weasley! I hadn’t expected you would try to kill the house-elves, or I would have suggested we meet somewhere else.”

Ginny glared at him. “Shut up. I didn’t try to kill the house-elves! I tripped.”

Draco nodded. “Sure, Weasley. I know you’re clumsy, but…”

“Clumsy?” she exclaimed, indignant. “I am more coordinated than you any day, little ferret!”

Draco folded his arms across his chest and smirked. “I like it when you call me that.”

Ginny froze, her mouth open in preparation to yell at him again. “I’m sorry?” she demanded. Had she heard him right?

“I like it when you call me little ferret,” Draco repeated, shrugging slightly. “When other people say it, it sounds like an insult.”

“Which it is,” Ginny put in smugly.

Draco went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “But when you say it, it sounds like an endearment.”

Ginny stared at him, unsure of what to say. She had been calling him that ever since her third year, when Professor Moody had turned him into a ferret for trying to hex Harry, thinking that it would upset him. Now he was telling her he liked it? Talk about bursting her bubble.

Draco laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Weasley at a loss for words! Well, except for when your brother gets so mad that he can’t breath, let alone speak.”

Ginny scoffed. “I’m not at a loss for words! I just don’t feel that my thoughts are entirely… voice-worthy.”

Draco’s left eyebrow rose up a good two inches. “Really? That’s too bad Weasley. I’d kind of like to hear them.”

She stepped closer to him, her own eyebrow lifting slightly. “Is that so, Malfoy? Well, for your information, I was thinking what a foul, loathsome git you are!”

“I don’t think you were, Weasley.”

“Well, not in those words, of course; but I could never say the words I was thinking. Like I said, they are not worthy of being spoken.”

“I never knew you had such foul thoughts.”

“Only when I’m around you.”

Draco took a step toward her and Ginny matched it with a step back, unsure what to make of the look in his eyes. He took another step, causing her to back up again. Two more steps brought her back into contact with the wall.

He took one more step, closing the distance between them. “You know,” he began, “today is my birthday.”

“What?” Ginny was surprised, yet again, by his random, nonsensical comments. Particularly more so, since her full focus had been on how close he was getting.

He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “And do you know what would make me really happy for my birthday?”

Ginny tried to reach for her wand, but Draco grabbed her wrists and pinned them beside her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she contemplated what he could be about to do.

“A kiss.”

Ginny blinked. Was he serious? “A- a kiss?” she repeated.

He nodded, an uncertain, almost hopeful look on his face.

Ginny hesitated, thinking carefully. Did she want to kiss Draco Malfoy? The son of her father’s least favourite person ever? The boy who had tortured her family and friends from day one of school?

She remembered his tired eyes (they looked more rested now) and how peaceful he looked when he slept. She thought of how soft his hair had been when she had comforted him that night, and how much she had enjoyed it.

But he’s Draco Malfoy! He had been an enemy of hers as long as she could remember. Just being a Weasley had made her a target for him. They’d gotten in fights, and hexed each other.

Her heart and brain did battle for a minute while Draco watched intently. He could see every thought floating across her face. He could tell that she, on some level, wanted to kiss him, but was trying to talk herself out of it. He silently hoped that her heart would win out and she would say yes.

Ginny finally made up her mind and, before she could change it again, rose up on her tip-toes and pressed her lips to his. She held them there for the barest of seconds, enjoying the feel of him. Then she pulled away and ducked under his arm.

She hadn’t gone more than three feet, however, when Draco pulled out his wand and waved it at her. She felt something snake its way around her middle. She tried to push it away, but, being a spell, there was nothing there to push.

Draco spun her around and pulled her back to him with a couple flicks of his wand. Ginny didn’t try to resist, rather liking it when he secured her into his arms.

“Draco?” she whispered.

He smirked. “Did you really think I would let it go at that?” He dipped his head toward her and brushed his lips across her cheek.

Ginny sighed and her eyes fluttered shut as his mouth covered hers. Don’t think, she ordered herself firmly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He gripped her waist and pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss.

She found it a lot easier to not think than she had been expecting. It seemed as if the whole world had stopped for their kiss. Nothing mattered except for the gentle pressure he was exerting and the pressure she responded with.

His tongue skimmed over her lips and she parted them slightly, allowing him to enter. He smiled as he swept in and rubbed his tongue over hers. Under normal circumstances, Ginny would have gotten upset that he seemed so pleased with her acquiescence, but at that moment, all she could focus on was the amazing sensations.

The kiss was wonderful, and they didn’t pull away until they were both dizzy. Ginny licked her lips, savouring the way he tasted of cinnamon and boy.

He smiled down at her; a real smile. “That’s better,” he said huskily.

“Happy birthday,” she replied, her voice shaking slightly.

Draco chuckled. “It’s not my birthday. I just said that to get you to kiss me.”

Ginny’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened in surprise. She couldn’t believe he had tricked her so easily. She tried to be mad at him, but then he kissed her again and she found that she couldn’t.

---

Draco slammed his book down in frustration and glared at the wall. He couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything, no matter how hard he tried! It had been two days since his kiss with Ginny Weasley, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. It occupied every waking minute.

He smiled as he thought of it again. Her lips had been soft and full, feeling absolutely wonderful pressed against his. She had been reluctant at first, but then she’d responded with a kiss of her own. Her hands had lightly stroked the back of his neck, and, even now, two days later, his neck tingled at the memory.

Draco shivered slightly, wondering why she affected him like this. He’d dated other girls, ones, unlike Weasley, that he actually liked and could have civil conversations with. But none of them had excited this sort of attraction in him. He wondered what was different about her.

It wasn’t her manner, surely. She was loud and obnoxious, much like her… what was it… fourteen brothers? It couldn’t have had anything to do with her bearing or her clothes, as she was rather… graceless, and her robes were all hand-me-downs.

She was fiery and passionate, a stark contrast to the simpering girls who often threw themselves at him. More often than not, she was completely annoying. The two of them couldn’t be in the same room for more than five minutes without arguing or pulling out their wands.

And yet, here he was, unable to stop thinking about her. Not just thinking about her, but enjoying the thoughts he was having. Remembering the feel of her hair and wanting to touch it again. Remembering the way she smelled, like some sweet, exotic flower he couldn’t recall the name of.

Deciding that he needed fresh air to help clear his head so he could actually study, Draco put away his book and prepared to go outdoors. He only had thirty minutes left in his free period, so he had to hurry. He grabbed his cloak and, with a habitual check in the mirror, left the common room.

He was making his way past the Dark Arts classroom, trying not to hear the tortured screams coming from inside, when he heard someone yelling behind him.

“Draco! Draco, wait!” called whoever it was.

He managed a few more steps before they caught up with him. He was pulled to a stop by his former girlfriend. “Hello, Pansy!” he said with a fake amiability. “How are you?”

“Don’t start with that, Draco,” she chided. “I’m in no mood to deal with your false sincerity.”

Draco shrugged. “What do you want, then? Because, frankly, I’m confused.”

“I want to talk. I miss you, Drakie!” She twined her arms around his neck and smiled sweetly at him as she spoke.

Draco exasperatedly pulled her arms off of him, the memory of another girl’s arms too fresh in his mind, and held them in front of him in hopes of preventing another attack. “You walked out on me, Pansy. It’s your own fault.”

“My fault?” She looked hurt, but Draco saw that her eyes were glittering maliciously. “I walked out because you were acting like a prat!”

Draco sighed, trying to keep himself from saying something that would make the situation worse. “What do you want me to do? I didn’t know you were upset about anything until you brought it up at the Three Broomsticks.”

“I want things to go back to the way they were before,” she replied firmly. “I don’t care that you failed at the task the Dark Lord gave you. I still love you, Drakie. And I know we can make it work… if we try.”

She pulled her arms out of his grasp and wrapped them around his waist. She locked on with a vice-like grip so he couldn’t get away. Though he most certainly tried.

“It’s not that simple, Pansy,” Draco replied with a sigh. “Things can’t just ‘go back’. I’m trying to… work out my priorities. After last year… I need to figure stuff out.”

Pansy gazed up at him sadly. “Am I not a priority? Don’t you care about me anymore?”

“Pansy. We’ve been friends forever and dating for several years. I’ll always care about you.” He shifted to one side. “But with the Dark Lord giving me that assignment, and my father… I just have to do some things alone.”

Pansy looked crestfallen. “But, I’ve always been there to help you, Draco. Can’t I change your mind?”

Draco shook his head. “I’m sorry, Pansy. Not this time.” He put his hands on her shoulders and attempted to push her away.

She suddenly lunged at him and kissed him fiercely. Her arms latched back onto his neck and pulled him closer to her. He finally managed to pull away… and there was Ginny, standing at the end of the corridor, a stricken look on her face.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured as she turned and ran.



~///~


Ginny hurried through the corridors, hoping to make it back to Gryffindor Tower in time to gather her books for her next class. She’d overslept that morning and had been running slightly behind ever since. She hadn’t even had time to eat breakfast. It was one of those days where everything goes wrong.

She slowed down for a moment to catch her breath, feeling her head begin to spin. Missing breakfast always did that to her. She cast a charm to strengthen herself and took off again.

Ginny sighed with relief as the fat lady came into view. She still had plenty of time! “Hippogriff,” she gasped.

The portrait swung open and Ginny clambered inside. She quickly grabbed her things and hurried away again, the fat lady yelling after her. “Slow down, lest you break your neck! No need to be rushing off like that!”

She ran for several minutes, only stopping once to catch her breath. She rounded the corner to the Dark Arts corridor and pulled up short. Halfway down the hall, between her and her class were Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson.

Ginny smiled as she remembered the kiss she’d shared with Draco, but the smile froze on her face at what she was seeing. Pansy had her arms wrapped around Draco’s middle, and they appeared to be having a very serious discussion. They were far enough away that Ginny couldn’t tell what they were saying.

She narrowed her eyes and watched for a minute. The two were very intent on their conversation and didn’t see her standing there. Ginny just wished she were closer and could hear them.

She was just about to step forward and interrupt them when Pansy suddenly leaped forward and enfolded Draco in a rather intimate embrace as they kissed. Ginny’s mouth dropped open.

After a minute, Draco pulled away from Pansy and looked up at Ginny. Apparently he’d discovered her presence… and looked very surprised by it. She whirled and ran away as quickly as her legs would carry her.

Stupid girl! she raged to herself. How could I let myself get into this situation? I should have known this would happen.

Tears began to stream from her eyes. Students jumped out of her way, some yelling angrily, as she barreled through the halls, but she didn’t see or hear any of them. Bursting through the enormous entrance doors, she slowed her pace.

He obviously doesn’t care about me! He was only using me as a convenient distraction or something. Why did I let him kiss me?

She sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands. Why do I care so much? she asked herself angrily. I shouldn’t be this upset.

She suddenly became aware of someone coming up behind her. She stood up and whipped around, her wand held out in front of her. Sure enough, there was Draco, his hands held up in the air.

“You!” she screamed.

“Ginny, please listen,” he pleaded. “Pansy…”

Sparks leaped out of the end of Ginny’s wand, causing Draco to take a step back. “Don’t! I don’t want to hear your excuses! I know what I saw. You tricked me! You kissed me, and you’re still with Parkinson!” She collapsed onto her knees, the morning finally catching up with her, and moaned softly.

Draco covered the distance between them in two quick strides and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, despite her struggling. “I had nothing to do with that. I swear!”

He lifted her chin so that she was looking into his warm, grey eyes. “Pansy jumped out at me in the middle of the corridor and I couldn’t get away.”

Ginny tried to pull away, but he held her firmly. After a moment, she sagged into him, too tired to fight him anymore.

“Please believe me,” he begged.

She hesitated. He really did look sincere, and she hadn’t actually heard what was going on. From what she knew of Pansy Parkinson, the girl probably would have jumped out at him.

Ginny sighed, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I want to, Draco. It’s just all happening too bloody fast! One minute we hate each other, then we kiss, now I’ve caught you lip-locked with your ex-girlfriend. I’m confused.”

Draco gently smoothed her hair back. “I know. Me too. But I… I…” he broke off, looking distraught.

“You what?” Ginny prompted.

“I think… I think I like you,” he finally managed. Then he flushed. “I’ve hated you forever, but then… You cared for me when no one else even noticed. You were the only one who didn’t judge me. I guess I stopped hating you and didn’t realize it until I realized that I like you.”

Ginny tried to laugh, but it sounded a bit like she was being strangled. “I don’t hate you either,” she replied. “You were too depressing to hate.”

Draco made a face. “Gee, thanks,” he said. “So can you believe me?”

Ginny let her shoulders drop. “I don’t know, Draco. I’ll think about it.”

Draco planted a kiss on her forehead and pulled her to her feet, making her head spin again. He grabbed her arms to steady her and raised his eyebrows.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” she said. “I missed breakfast this morning. I’ve been a bit off since then.”

“Well, we’re already late for class. Let’s just skive off and go to the kitchens. You need to eat.”

“That… is the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Draco jokingly bowed and offered her his arm, which she took, a smile on her face. He led her back into the school, thinking of ways he could convince her of his sincerity.

---

“What’s up, Draco?” Blaise asked as the two Slytherin boys were taking their usual seats in Dark Arts class.

Draco glanced up at his friend, then shook his head and replied, “Nothing’s up. Why?”

Blaise leaned his chair back on two legs and looked at Draco out of the corner of his eyes. “Oh, just because you’re all broody and haven’t put more than two words together all day.”

“I don’t have anything to say,” Draco told him.

It was true. All Draco could think about was Ginny and how he could prove his sincerity to her. So far he had nothing. Remembering their kiss at every turn wasn’t helping either.

He’d thought about using a spell to create a bouquet of flowers for her, but they would fade after a couple of hours. He wanted something that would last and be remembered. Then he’d thought about kissing her again (and why not, when it was so prevalent in his thoughts?), but that wouldn’t prove anything but that he liked kissing her.

“That’s it?” Blaise demanded. “You just don’t have anything to say?”

Draco nodded.

“You haven’t gone out with Pansy, or any other girl, for that matter, in a long time. Are you sure it doesn’t have anything to do with a special someone you’ve neglected to tell me about?”

Shaking his head at his friend, Draco replied in the negative.

“Sit down, Mr. Zabini,” boomed a gravelly voice from behind them.

Professor Carrow strode into the room, pulling a student behind him. Draco’s eyes widened when he realized who it was. Ginny Weasley, nearly stumbling as she was dragged into the classroom.

Draco half rose from his chair, not really sure what was going on. He had a pretty good idea, however, given what usually went on in this class.

Blaise gave him a confused look and pulled him back down. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

Professor Carrow reached the front of the room and whirled to face the class, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as he did. “This school has rules. These rules were made for a specific reason. Those students who fancy themselves above the authority of the teachers will be punished.” He was clearly angry, as some of his usual, uncultured way of talking punctuated his memorized speech.

The students in the front row shivered. Some with fear; some with anticipation. They knew what this meant.

“Draco Malfoy,” Amycus Carrow called. “I haven’t picked you in a long time. Come up here, then.”

Draco felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs. His brain immediately went into overdrive. How was he going to get out of this?

Thoughts whizzed through his head so fast that he couldn’t grab hold of a single one. The phrase ‘Oh no, oh no, oh no!’ kept repeating itself over and over again.

Blaise, noticing that his friend wasn’t getting out of his seat, gave him a nudge. Draco found himself standing, but couldn’t bring himself to move forward. His feet felt like they were glued to the floor. No way could he use the Cruciatus on Ginny. No way!

“Quickly, Mr. Malfoy. I haven’t got all day!” Professor Carrow yelled. He motioned to Ginny. “Miss Weasley felt that it wasn’t necessary for her to come to class yesterday. Her decision to disobey the rules has earned her a detention.”

Draco still hadn’t moved, so Professor Carrow stormed toward him and grabbed his arm. “Mr. Malfoy,” he began angrily. “I would like you to perform the Cruciatus curse on Miss Weasley.”

The professor’s touch seemed to jolt Draco out of his daze. “I… I can’t do that, sir,” he stammered.

Amycus dragged him up to stand in front of Ginny. “Of course you can, Mr. Malfoy. It’s a very simple spell.” His voice held a taunting note.

Ginny glanced up at Draco, looking extremely frightened, then turned quickly away. A hard glint suddenly entered her eyes as if she were preparing herself. She took a shaky breath and then stood perfectly motionless. She hardly seemed to be breathing.

Professor Carrow, meanwhile, had drawn his wand. “Here,” he sneered. “I will show you how it’s done so that you will understand.”

Draco realized what was happening and, with a cry of rage, leapt in front of Ginny just as Professor Carrow yelled, “Crucio!”

The pain was intense. It seemed to fill every part of him. Draco was thrown to the ground, fire burning in his limbs. He yelled and thrashed, trying to rid himself of the feeling.

“No!” Ginny screamed, throwing herself on top of him. “Draco! Why did you do that?”

Draco tried to summon up a smile for her, but only succeeded in looking more pained.

Professor Carrow dragged Ginny off. He glared down and said, “Yes, Draco. Why did you do that? I have never known a Slytherin to take the punishment for another.”

Draco lay on the floor, gasping for a minute. “I can’t let you do that. I won’t let you torture her. And I most certainly won’t do it myself.”

“Fine then. Crabbe! Goyle! Come here!”

Draco’s overly-large friends tripped over each other in their haste to obey. Professor Carrow was their favourite teacher. In his class, they excelled.

“Hold Mr. Malfoy down over there,” the professor said, indicating the far wall.

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, then at Draco in obvious confusion. They’d never been ordered to do anything to one of their own before. Especially one they looked up to as much as Draco.

“Now!” Amycus bellowed, his face turning red with fury.

The boys jumped and quickly grabbed Draco by the arms.

Draco tried to fight them off, but they were stronger than him any day. “No! Stop!” he cried, straining against his friends.

Pansy Parkinson stood up from her seat in the second row. “Professor,” she began softly. “I’ll do it.” She glared maliciously at Ginny, hate emanating from her eyes.

Professor Carrow nodded happily. “Good. Good.” He beckoned her over, shooting a smug look at Draco as he did.

Pansy didn’t even move from her seat. She raised her wand and shrieked, “Crucio!”

The spell hit Ginny and knocked her backwards, over the top of Amycus Carrow’s desk and onto the floor. She lay there writhing, her screams splitting the air.

Draco screamed along with her. In one last, desperate attempt, he managed to grab his wand out of his pocket. He pointed it at Pansy and cried, “Averte Statura!”

Pansy crashed into the desk behind her with a cry of her own. She gasped and looked up at Draco, stunned.

He finally managed to get free of Crabbe and Goyle’s death grip, their surprise was rather effective in loosening their hold, and ran to Ginny’s side. He put his arm under her head and tried to lift her up.

Amycus was furious. “I’ve had enough!” he yelled. “Petrificus Totalus!”

Draco’s arms and legs snapped straight and he toppled to the ground. He was dragged to one side, none too gently, as Amycus turned back to Ginny.

The professor announced, “Now, without anymore interruptions, we will finish Miss Weasley’s detention. Crucio!”

Draco could hear her screams and tried in vain to throw off the Full-Body Bind. He’d dropped his wand after cursing Pansy because his only thought had been to get to Ginny. Now he mentally cursed himself for his lack of foresight. His wand would have come in very hand at that moment.

The torture dragged on for several minutes, Ginny’s screams growing weaker and weaker. Finally, Amycus seemed satisfied. He lowered his wand and stepped backwards.

Draco could hear Ginny taking deep, gasping gulps of air and whimpering.

The professor called a student forward and gave him whispered instructions. A door opened, then closed, and silence fell. Draco wished he could see more than this patch of ceiling. He had no idea what was happening.

After a minute, the spell was lifted. Draco scrambled for his wand and looked around for Ginny at the same time. She wasn’t there.

“So, Mr. Malfoy. Would you like to tell me why you jumped to the defense of Miss Weasley? Why you would throw yourself in front of the Cruciatus curse for that blood-traitor Gryffindor?” Professor Carrow’s face was inches from his own.

Without speaking, Draco cast an Imperious on him. His father had made sure that he knew that one early on, just in case. He’d said you could never know when you’d need to use it to protect your interests and that, under Dumbledore, that could be rather frequent.

Amycus straightened up, his eyes taking on a glazed look, and locked the classroom door. Working quickly, they Obliviated the students so that they wouldn’t remember Draco trying to save Ginny. Finally, Draco Obliviated the professor.

He made his way back to his seat, and the class continued as it normally did. Everyone thought that Draco had been cooperative and some even gave him thumbs-up. His own thoughts were focused on Ginny, however, and he hardly noticed. Where was she?

---

Following her detention from Professor Carrow, Ginny was transported out of the Dark Arts classroom by way of a floating stretcher. The stretcher was propelled by a seventh year Hufflepuff who refused to look at her. Just straight ahead, his lips pressed together in a firm line.

Ginny moaned, feeling sore and tired. She could fully understand why the Cruciatus was an Unforgivable Curse. It was the worst thing she’d ever had to endure. She could hardly comprehend anything through her haze of pain.

“Hippogriff,” the Hufflepuff said suddenly.

Ginny vaguely decided that he must be a prefect as she felt a bump as her stretcher ran into the side of the portrait hole. Gryffindor Tower, she thought. Good. I’m tired. Could do with a nice long nap.

The student who was guiding her spoke again, this time to the occupants of the common room, “Please see that Miss Weasley gets upstairs and into bed. Professor Carrow’s orders.”

A tall girl got up from her seat on the sofa by the fire. She came over and stood next to Ginny. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked down at her. “Not another one,” she groaned.

The portrait slammed shut after the Hufflepuff prefect. The other students took this as their cue. They all jumped up and gathered around the stretcher, each one trying to help. Ginny couldn’t hold in a whimper as she was jostled by the many sets of concerned hands.

The first girl was finally able to take charge, shooing everyone else away. She took out her wand and very carefully guided Ginny up the stairs to her dormitory. Then she settled Ginny on her bed and vanished the stretcher.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she closed the curtains.

Ginny shut her eyes and tried to thank the girl. Her mouth felt heavy and dry, so all she managed was a soft noise in the back of her throat that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. She fell asleep almost immediately after the door had closed.

When she woke up, she was buried beneath her blankets. She was warm and comfortable, though a bit stiff. She carefully stretched, testing her muscles, then decided she had better see Madam Pomfrey about a pain potion. Rolling out of bed, she groaned slightly, then stumbled downstairs.

The common room was completely empty when she arrived. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time to be half after twelve. She’d been asleep for three hours.

So much for lunch, Ginny told herself as she headed for the hospital wing. By the time she got her potion, the meal would be finished.

Ginny hurried through the corridors, trying to ignore the dull ache she felt in every part of her body. She’d lost count of how many Cruciatus’ she’d been given that morning, but it was enough that she could still feel it, even after her long nap.

“Ginny!” someone suddenly called from behind her. She didn’t want to talk to anyone just yet, so she pretended not to have heard and kept walking.

“Merlin, Weasley! Will you slow down?”

Ginny gasped and whirled around. “Draco!” She ran back towards him.

He smiled and caught her in a hug, burying his face in her hair. Ginny bit back a wince and hugged him back. Then she pulled back and lightly smacked him on the chest. “You idiot! Why did you jump in front of me?” she demanded.

Draco twirled a bit of her hair between his fingers. “Well, you wouldn’t believe me when I told you I cared for you, so I…”

Ginny cut him off. “So you thought you’d show me by being an idiot!”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t just stand there and let him torture you. I had to do something.”

Ginny grabbed his collar in both hands and pulled his face down to within inches of her own. She fought to keep a straight face as his eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t you think I had everything under control?” she asked in a low voice.

Before he could say anything in response, she leaned forward and planted a fierce kiss on his lips. He only hesitated for a second before pulling her tightly to his chest and returning her kiss.

They broke apart smiling. Draco gently yanked on the piece of hair he was still holding and said smugly, “I take it that means you believe me now.”

Ginny sighed. “How could I not? You took a Cruciatus for me. If you’re not sincere, then you’re just plain crazy. Frankly, I’d rather it be the first.”

Draco cleared his throat and asked, “What did you mean, ‘you had everything under control’?” His grey eyes were twinkling.

“Just a technique I’ve been working on to… avoid immediate discomfort,” she replied casually.

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh really?”

Ginny took a minute just to stare at his face. When he was happy and joking with her, he looked laid-back and mischievous rather than his usual glum and intimidating look. He was actually handsome beneath his scowling demeanor and nasty attitude.

He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, taking her by surprise. She blinked up at him and he laughed.

“You make me nervous when you watch me like that. I mean, I’m flattered that you can’t take your eyes off me, but after a while…”

He straightened and led her down the hall. “Where were you going in such a hurry that you couldn’t even stop for me?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

“I was going to visit Madam Pomfrey about a pain potion.” Not wanting to admit that she was still sore, she quickly added, “I have a bit of a headache.”

“Oh. About that.” Draco suddenly stopped walking, pulling Ginny up short as well. “I made a visit to Madam Pomfrey myself and explained the situation. She gave me a little extra to give to you.”

“Oh, good,” Ginny said, sighing in relief. “I wasn’t looking forward to the long walk to the hospital wing and missing lunch for it.”

Her relief turned to uncertainty as Draco looked away, his face reddening. “What?” she asked hesitantly. Then realization struck. “You drank it all, didn’t you?”

He nodded slowly, still not looking at her. “I’m sorry.” His lip twitched.

Ginny narrowed her eyes and grabbed his chin, turning his face toward her. When his eyes met hers, he burst out laughing.

“This isn’t funny,” she scolded, feeling slightly grumpy.

“Yes it is.” He pulled a bottle out of his pocket. “Here is your potion. I wouldn’t really drink it, you know. My own dose is plenty! That stuff is absolutely disgusting.”

Ginny shoved him and took the bottle. “You prat!” she snapped.

She drank the potion quickly and grimaced. “Nothing could make those taste good!” she complained.

Draco smirked. “Really?” He bent down and gave her a tiny kiss.

“Well, maybe some things.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “So, truthfully…”

“Oh, no,” Draco moaned.

“Shut up! Truthfully,” she paused to glare, “who’s a better kisser? Me, or Pansy Parkinson?” She was only half-joking as she asked this. The other half really wanted to know.

Draco paused and place a finger against the side of his chin in a classic thoughtful pose as he pursed his lips. “Hmm. I’m not sure.” He gave her a sly grin. “Maybe we should try again. Just to clear up any confusion.”

Ginny poked him. “Don’t press your luck, Malfoy. I may believe that you didn’t kiss Pansy of your own accord, but this is still new to me.”

Draco took a step back. “I can do slow,” he told her solemnly. “It’s new for me, too, so I understand.”

Ginny looped her arm through his. “Well, not too slow.” She blushed and changed the subject when Draco smirked. “Lunch is almost over. If we hurry, we can grab a couple of bites.”

She knew that it would cause a stir for her to walk into the Great Hall with Draco Malfoy, but she found that she didn’t care. She was truly happy for the first time all year. Besides, damage control was ridiculously easy. A simple little half-truth and they believed whatever.

They stopped outside the doors and exchanged nervous looks, then stepped forward and walked in. Sure enough, ever head in the room turned and focused on the odd couple standing in the doorway. Jaws dropped all over the place.

Ginny and Draco moved off to their respective tables, ignoring hostile glares and incredulous looks. Ginny felt like laughing. She sat down with her friends and waved away their questions. That could wait. For now, she was hungry and really wanted to eat.

---

Draco and Ginny made sure to see each other often over the next week. Secretly, of course. They had managed to convince everyone that they had just bumped into each other outside the Great Hall and there was nothing going on between them. And that the reason they hadn’t hexed each other stupid was because it was time to put petty rivalries behind with the war going on.

When it was possible, the two of them would walk between classes together. They employed as many secret passages as they possibly could to avoid detection. They always stole a couple of minutes before lunch to be alone together.

Draco started opening up to her more and more. He told her about his father’s overbearing nature and the pressure he felt to conform to the Death Eater way. He told her about his sixth year and the fear he had felt when Voldemort threatened his family to get him to make an attempt on Dumbledore’s life. He told her things he’d never dreamed of telling anyone before.

Ginny told him about her life, as well. How difficult it was to be the only girl and the youngest of so many children. How she was easily overlooked amongst all the noise and mayhem of a crowd of growing boys.

Draco figured that that was the reason behind her fiery attitude. It was a self-defense mechanism. He found himself enjoying the stories she told, even if they were about a bunch of Weasleys. Especially the stories in which she and the twins played pranks on Ron.

Draco was gathering his books at the end of his Transfiguration class, hurrying because he had a meeting planned with Ginny and didn’t want to be late. Their time together was the highlight of his day.

He’d just told Blaise to go on ahead to lunch and rolled up his parchment when Professor McGonagall called, “Draco Malfoy. I’d like to speak with you for a moment.”

He swept his quill and inkwell into his bag and walked up to his teacher’s desk. To his surprise, she led him into her office instead. Once inside, he realized what was going on.

Sprout and Flitwick were seated at the desk, each holding a small stack of papers. They looked up at Draco when he entered, and he could see that they didn’t quite trust him, but were willing to give him a chance because McGonagall did.

McGonagall closed the door and motioned Draco toward a seat. The other two professors watched him uncertainly, as if trying to ascertain his hidden intention. He suddenly felt very nervous, sitting down carefully and pasting on a grim smile.

“Draco, I’m sure you must have guessed by now why I asked you to come in here,” McGonagall began. “We have put together some false information for you to feed to your father.”

Sprout and Flitwick held up their stacks. “This is enough for you to give him a couple every week for the next two months,” Flitwick explained in his squeaky voice. “Hopefully he’ll buy it.”

Draco was a bit surprised that they had come up with so much in so little time. He glanced through the papers to see if he recognized any of the spells. When he found that he didn’t he looked back up at the teachers, his eyebrow slightly raised.

Professor McGonagall smiled at his expression. “Most of these spells are completely out of date. They have been replaced with stronger, more complicated wards as they’ve been developed. The others are fake. They wouldn’t so much as singe the ends of your hair.”

Draco smirked. “Nice. I was beginning to wonder what kind of information we could pass on. I didn’t even think of old stuff.”

He thought for a second, then asked, “Were any of these used to protect the school in the past?”

Professor Flitwick nodded. “Yes. In fact, You-Know-Who might recognize a couple of them from his time here. We’re hoping that that will persuade him to believe the one’s he doesn’t know.”

Draco frowned. “Won’t he expect them to have been updated?”

McGonagall chuckled. “We are counting on his ego to fool him,” she replied. “Even as a boy, he believed that he was smarter than everyone. He felt that he could not be fooled, so he was less careful than he could have been.”

“From what we heard from Harry Potter, he is still very much the same,” Flitwick added.

Professor Sprout agreed. “The information we have gleaned from You-Know-Who’s own mind has been invaluable.”

“Potter can read the Dark Lord’s mind?” Draco asked, looking from teacher to teacher in surprise. “I had no idea he was a Legilimens. Can he read other people’s minds?”

“No,” Professor McGonagall stated simply. Then she turned to Sprout and began discussing some plants that could be used in case of an attack.

Draco sensed that he was not going to get any more information about Potter. Probably didn’t trust him not to let it slip.

Snape might know something, but Draco felt that going to see the Headmaster in his current position as a traitor would not be wise. He didn’t want to be turned over to Voldemort.

Draco sighed. It was tricky pretending to work for the Dark Lord when, in fact, he was helping his enemies. He hoped that he wouldn’t slip up and give himself away. Voldemort wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

Already he’d had to put off Pansy’s questions of when he was going to get his dark mark and Theodore Nott bragging about what the Dark Lord had him doing, wondering what he’d asked Draco to do. Even Blaise had been curious about why he didn’t seem to talk about it as much as he’d used to.

A thought suddenly struck Draco and he shot upright in his chair. “Wait. How am I going to get these to my father?” he asked. “He didn’t give me any instructions and it has to be quiet. It can’t look like something the school would know about.”

The teachers exchanged looks.

“Yes,” McGonagall replied slowly, her face indicating that she was surprised by the question. “We thought about that.”

She turned to Flitwick and he nodded. She then continued, “We think that the Floo network would be your best bet.”

“Floo?” Draco repeated. “Don’t you monitor that?”

“We used to,” Professor Sprout replied. “Since Dumbledore was killed, however, the Ministry has taken over. I’m pretty certain that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has some… influence there.”

Flitwick finished for her. “So it should be no problem for you. If your father asks, tell him you overheard us complaining.”

Draco pondered this for a minute. It seemed a sturdy, well-formed plan. All of the apparent loopholes had been considered and explanations provided. Now it was all up to him.

Great, he thought wryly. Now the easy part.

If there was one thing that could be said about Lucius Malfoy, it was that he was careful. He was not likely to let anything slip past him. It there was even one thing wrong with Draco’s report, he would find it.

Draco could feel his already small amount of confidence slipping, and before he could back out completely he said, “Good. I’ll do that. It’s a good idea.

He grimaced as he realized that he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.

He stood quickly and stuffed the phony spells into his bag, hoping the teachers wouldn’t notice his uncertainty. Thankfully they were too busy going over their own plans. McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

Draco mumbled a good-bye and hurriedly left the office. He went to his prearranged meeting place to see Ginny, but she was already gone. He sighed and walked off on his own. He hadn’t really expected her to wait around, but it didn’t change the fact that he was disappointed to have missed her.

Once he got to the Great Hall, lunch was half over. He sought out Ginny’s face. He found her watching him and gave her a strained smile, mouthing the word ‘sorry’.

She gave a small nod in return. That would have to do for now. Having decided to keep their relationship a secret, he couldn’t go over and talk to her.

Draco sat in his usual spot at the Slytherin table with a deep sigh.

“Trouble, Drakie?” Pansy asked, leaning over to grasp his arm.

He pushed her hands off. “Not now, Parkinson,” he growled. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her today.

She stuck out her bottom lip. “Draco…” she began to whine.

Draco rolled his eyes and turned away. Behind him he heard Pansy huff before jumping out of her seat and storming off. Draco bit into a sandwich and tried not to think about the task of fooling his father.

---

Several weeks passed without incident. Ginny quickly fell into a routine again. Stolen meetings with Draco constituted most of her time. The D.A. had been gathering once a month, as well. Her classes were getting harder this semester, and all the teachers were assigning more homework.

Ginny dropped a stack of books on a secluded table in the back of the library. She sighed as she collapsed into the chair. Pulling our her parchment, quill, and ink, she prepared for a couple hours of studying, as had become her norm. She had a ridiculously long potions essay to write and was not looking forward to it.

She pulled the first book towards her and located the information she needed. Felix Felicis was given a rather long chapter in the very center of the book. The list of restrictions on the substance was just as long and complicated as the recipe.

Ginny sighed again as she began taking notes for her essay. Horace Slughorn was remarkably strict and had demanded that they all include a detailed list of obscure side effects. This meant that Ginny was going to have to pay close attention to the mundane medical reports written about the potion.

In 1974, Doreen Conway overdosed on the controlled substance Felix Felicis. Her symptoms included dramatic hair growth and uncontrollable laughter. Fifteen feet of hair had to be cut off during her four hour stay at St. Mungo’s. Her laughter brought on a severe case of the flu.

Ginny rolled her eyes after copying this. No one really cared what happened to a foolish young woman almost thirty years ago.

In Doreen’s explanation to Ministry officials, she claimed she had done it to win the heart of her true love. This resulted in a restriction against using Felix Felicis in matters of the heart.

Ginny pulled out a copy of the decree. She read aloud, “‘ Felix Felicis, the substance originating in Ireland and thought to be the creation of Leprechauns, has been shown to be dangerous to persons in love. Blah, blah, blah… a tendency to disregard cautionary information, blah, blah, blah.

“‘Hereby, Felix Felicis is banned from use for these purposes: blah, blah, blah. Persons in love found to be taking Felix Felicis in order to create feelings of love in another person will be charged a fine of five hundred Galleons and given a night under close supervision by the Ministry to ensure that undesirable side effects do not occur.’ Blah, blah, blah.”

Ginny groaned in boredom. She pulled out her parchment and began taking notes She was surprised when a pair of arms dropped down past her shoulders to rest on the table on either side of her. She gasped as warm breath blew across her neck.

She knew who it was immediately and gently swatted his arm. “Malfoy, I’m trying to study!” she hissed.

“So I heard,” Draco said.

He planted a tiny kiss on her ear, sending shivers up and down her spine. He grabbed the notes she’d just written and glanced at them, holding them out of her reach as she tried to take them back. “Restrictions on the use of potions for the purpose of love. Sounds like you’re planning something,” he whispered. “Should I be worried?”

Ginny finally managed to snatch her notes and swung them at him. “I’m not planning anything! This is the most boring Potions research I’ve ever done.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis. “I don’t have enough brain power left to plan. If I did I wouldn’t still be sitting here.”

“Not enough brain power to plan,” Draco repeated.

A sly look had come into his eyes that made Ginny nervous. “I know that look. Don’t try anything, little ferret!” she cautioned.

He grinned. “You’re still trying to use that name to antagonize me. I warned you that it wouldn’t work. I like it, remember?” His arms came up off the table and wrapped around her, pinning her to his chest.

Ginny made a small squeak of protest as he nuzzled her neck. “Draco! I need to finish this. Professor Slughorn only gave us two days to write the essay.” She grabbed his arms and tried to loosen his grip.

She glanced around, trying to make sure Madam Pince wasn’t anywhere near. The librarian disliked commotion of any kind in her library.

Draco took her actions to mean that she wanted him to continue, ignoring her words. He blew in her ear, making her giggle despite herself.

“Stop it!” she hissed again.

“I can’t help it,” he replied, kissing her cheek. “I mean, you’re an annoying little weasel, but there’s just something about you.” He lifted one hand to brush her hair behind her ear. “I can’t resist you.”

Ginny took advantage of his arm being moved to break free of his grip. She stood up off her chair and spun to face him, feeling triumphant. She grinned at his startled expression and told him, “I really do have to do this essay.”

He took a step toward her and pinned her against the table. His hands circled her waist and he leaned in close, whispering, “Maybe I can help you?”

Ginny sighed and smoothed the fabric of his robes on his shoulders. Truthfully, his interruption had been extremely welcome, but she was already behind in Astronomy and Dark Arts and desperately needed to focus on her homework. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve really got to get done.”

Draco reached behind him and grabbed another chair. “Okay. Like I said. Maybe I can help you.” He pulled her back into her chair and sat next to her.

The time passed quickly with him there. They talked a bit and occasionally one of them would crack a joke about the information they found. Before Ginny realized it, her essay was finished.

She glanced up at Draco in surprise. “That’s it,” she told him. “We’re done.”

“We’d better be,” he replied as he stretched his arms over his head. “We’ve been here for three hours. I’m exhausted.”

“Three hours?” Ginny gasped, shocked.

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. “Amazing. The weasel can understand speech. Yes. Three hours.”

“It doesn’t seem like it took that long,” Ginny continued, choosing to ignore his comment. “Boy, how time flies.”

Draco smirked. “I take it you enjoyed my company then.”

“Oh, don’t get too confident. Given the nature of my project, I would have enjoyed the company of a Flobberworm.”

“Thanks. That makes me feel just wonderful. Maybe next time I won’t come. I’ll send a Flobberworm instead.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible, little ferret.”

Draco leaned over and whispered in her ear, “But you like me anyway, right?”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond before pulling her into a passionate kiss. A tingling sensation began in the pit of her stomach, quickly spreading to the rest of her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, answering with a kiss of her own. When he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily.

Draco cleared his throat, a glint in his eye. “You do like me, right? You never answered.” He casually draped an arm on the back of her chair.

“Oh, Merlin, Draco!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t let you kiss me if I didn’t.”

“Let me?” he questioned. “Seemed like you were doing a bit more than letting, Miss Weasley.”

Ginny blushed and leaned her head back on his arm. She tried to think of something to say, but found herself at a loss for words. “Well, that should answer your question, then,” she finally managed.

Draco trailed his finger down her jaw. He winked at her, then stood up, pulling her with him. “We’d better go. The library’s going to close in a few minutes.”

Ginny winced as his sudden movement made her head throb. She had headaches every night now as a result of the numerous Cruciatus curses she’d received. No one know about them, however, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice now. If he did, he chose not to say anything.

They gathered up her things and put away the books. They left the library with their arms around each other.

As soon as they went out the door, they were set upon by a very angry Pansy Parkinson.

“Draco Malfoy!” she shrieked in a voice loud enough to wake the dead. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Her face was a mottled purple colour and her hands were clenched around her wand.

“Walking,” Draco responded simply.

“You gave up on me for… her?” She motioned to Ginny with a look of pure disgust on her face.

Ginny felt Draco’s hold on her waist tighten possessively and suppressed a smile.

“If you’ll remember correctly, you gave up on me,” he calmly replied.

Pansy sputtered. “I didn’t… You… Never mind that. She’s Ginny Weasley! How can you be with her?”

Ginny felt her ire building and opened her mouth to retaliate, but Draco cut her off, “I know who she is, Parkinson. There’s nothing wrong with me seeing her.”

“Oh, yeah?” Pansy exclaimed.

Ginny felt apprehensive at the anger in the other girl’s eyes. She’d never seen anyone get so angry. Not even Ron in his worst moments of over-protectiveness.

Before she or Draco could react, Pansy had pointed her wand straight at her and yelled, “Sectumsempra!”

Ginny’s face erupted in bursts of pain. She screamed and collapsed onto the floor. The last thing she saw was Draco’s grey eyes staring down at her in shock and fear.

---

The attack came as a complete surprise to Draco. He watched in horror as Pansy’s curse caused several nasty looking abrasions to appear on Ginny’s face. The redhead screamed in agony as she fell.

“What did you do?” Draco demanded, dropping to his knees next to Ginny.

Her head lolled around a bit before her eyes focused on him. Her hand came up slightly, then her eyes fluttered and she slipped into unconsciousness.

“I only gave her what she deserved, the little boyfriend-stealer,” Pansy said haughtily. “I saw Professor Snape use that spell once, but I’m not as good as he is. His victim nearly died.”

Draco frantically began to try any healing spell he could think of, but none of them worked. He growled and scooped Ginny up in his arms, giving Pansy as angry a look as he could muster in his anxiety. Then he turned and ran down the hall.

Ginny hung limply in his arms, making soft moaning noises as his hurried footsteps jostled her. Draco clutched her tighter to his chest in an attempt to absorb some of the impact. He felt panicked when he saw the deathly white tinge to her face and the blood running in little rivulets down her neck.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the hospital wing came into view. Draco put on a final burst of speed and rushed through the doors yelling breathlessly for Madam Pomfrey.

The mediwitch rushed out of the back room looking disheveled and surprised. “What happened?” she gasped as her eyes landed on the bleeding girl in Draco’s arms.

“She’s been cursed!” Draco exclaimed, laying her as gently as he could on the nearest bed. “I don’t know the spell. I’ve only ever seen it used once and that was on me. I don’t remember anything. Snape helped me, but I don’t know what he did.”

He was aware of the fact that he was rambling, but couldn’t seem to make himself stop. He watched Pomfrey as she wiped Ginny’s face of blood.

“Go get him,” she suddenly commanded.

“Who?” Draco asked in confusion. He’d been too busy watching worriedly as Ginny whimpered.

“Snape.”

Draco was hesitant to leave Ginny, but desperately wanted to help her. He ran out of the hospital wing as quickly as he had come into it. He felt stiff with shock, but refused to let himself stop to catch his breath. Not with Ginny lying there, bleeding and unconscious.

It suddenly occurred to Draco as he ran that Professor Snape might not be willing to help Ginny. He was widely acknowledged as a Death Eater, and her parents openly opposed Voldemort. What if he just turned away?

As he rounded the corner to Snape’s office, he suddenly realized what he should do to convince him to come. He pounded on the door yelling, “Professor! Professor Snape!”

The door opened to reveal Snape looking very upset at the disturbance. “What is it?” he demanded. Smoke was billowing out from behind him and a foul odor emanated from the room.

“A student’s been attacked!” Draco gasped out, leaning against the wall for support.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Some girl.”

Snape appeared nonchalant as he calmly grabbed his cloak and closed the door behind him. Draco danced anxiously from foot to foot, mentally willing him to hurry.

“What curse was used?” Snape asked casually.

Draco could feel his ire building as he tried to refrain from screaming. “Sectumsempra.”

Snape suddenly froze. “Are you sure?” He didn’t even wait for a reply. Grabbing Draco by the sleeve, he dashed through the corridors. “Where is she?”

“I’ve taken her to the hospital wing!” Draco gasped as he panted to keep up. Snape seemed to be almost flying down the hall.

They arrived at the infirmary, Draco completely out of breath, and burst through the door. He pushed past Snape and yelled, “Madam Pomfrey, how is she!”

Pomfrey looked up from the bed, her face almost as pale as her patient’s. “She’s not any worse,” she replied.

Draco dropped to his knees beside the bed and grabbed Ginny’s hand in both of his own and pressed it to his lips. Her pulse fluttered weakly and he felt a stab of fear. He glanced pleadingly up at Snape.

“Some girl,” the Headmaster muttered under his breath, imitating Draco, as he leaned over the bed. He began murmuring strange words, moving his wand over the cuts. After a couple of passes, the bleeding stopped and the wounds seemed to shrink slightly. Snape turned to Madam Pomfrey, not stopping his movements, and asked, “Do you have any Dittany?”

“I already tried Dittany, sir,” was her terse reply.

“Try it again.” He said this as thought it were the most obvious solution.

Pomfrey scurried over to her medicine cupboard and grabbed a small bottle near the middle. When she returned, she dabbed a couple of drops on her finger and carefully spread it over Ginny’s face. A greenish steam began to rise along the cuts and there was an odd hissing noise.

When the steam cleared, Draco saw with relief that new skin was stretched over the injuries. It appeared pink and tender. He reached out and ran his fingers over them, smiling as Ginny gave a soft sigh.

Snape straightened up. “That’s all that can be done,” he stated. “We must hope that she is as lucky as you were, Draco, and received attention soon enough to avoid scarring. Each case is unique, though.”

Snape and Pomfrey moved away, whispering quietly. Draco ignored them and turned his attention back to Ginny. She was still pale, but the colour of her injuries masked that. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, lying on a hospital bed, her robes stained crimson with her own blood, that Draco wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and never let go.

Instead, he lifted one hand and stroked her hair back from her face. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. His voice caught in his throat and he frowned. He suddenly felt very angry at Pansy Parkinson. What right did she have to do this?

A moment later, Madam Pomfrey came back to the bedside and Professor Snape left. The mediwitch pulled another potion bottle out of her pocket. “This will help her sleep peacefully,” she told him as she handed him the bottle.

Draco took it, his fingers trembling slightly. He wrapped his arm around Ginny’s shoulders and lifted her head. He pressed the vial to her lips and silently urged her to drink it. When it was gone, he handed the empty bottle back to Madam Pomfrey.

The mediwitch gave him an odd look, then said quietly, “Thank you for bringing her to me, Mr. Malfoy. You should go back to your dormitory now.”

Draco shook his head. “I’m not leaving her.” He pulled up a chair and settled himself into it, trying to cross his arms and hold onto Ginny’s hand at the same time. He gave up and settled for pulling her hand into his lap.

Pomfrey looked surprised. “You’ve done plenty. You don’t need to stay.”

“This isn’t about what I need, ma’am,” he told her, trying to sound calm. “I want to be here with her.”

Madam Pomfrey’s eyebrows shot upwards. She tried for several minutes to persuade him to leave, apparently unable to believe that he could ever really care about Ginny, but Draco resolutely refused. She finally shook her head and went back to her office, hiding a smile.

Draco wearily leaned forward and propped his elbows on the bed. He sighed and ran one hand through his hair as he watched Ginny sleep. The potion was beginning to take effect and the lines of pain that had been etched on her face were fading.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. In response, her fingers tightened around his. He chuckled. “Even in your sleep, I’m irresistible to you.”

The night had been trying, and as the adrenalin worked its way out of his bloodstream, Draco realized just how tired he was. It seemed like ages had passed since he’d been sitting happily in the library, helping Ginny with her Potions essay. Now he was sitting beside her hospital bed as she recovered from some obscure curse.

He sighed again as his vision began to blur and his eyelids to droop. He rubbed his hands over his eyes to try to clear them. Looking down at Ginny again, he found himself smiling. She looked so peaceful. He tentatively reached out and touched her cheek, gently feeling the quickly fading scar that ran from just under her right eye in a half circle down to the bottom of her nose.

Draco shifted slightly so that he could pull the blankets over her. Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek before giving in to the exhaustion that filled him.

---

Ginny woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. Her face felt a bit stiff as well and she wondered why. She lay quietly for a minute trying to remember if something had happened. Then it all came back to her in a rush.

Being in the library studying. Malfoy interrupting her. Walking out with him. Being stopped by an angry Pansy. The curse and excruciating pain. Then nothing.

Ginny’s eyes flew wide open as she gasped. She was in the hospital wing, she noticed. Sunlight was filtering through the windows on the opposite wall, giving the room a happy glow. She tried to lift her hand to touch her face, but found that it was trapped under something.

She looked over to see what it was and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy sitting in a chair, his head supported on the bed next to her. He was clutching her hand tightly beneath his cheek as he slept.

Ginny smiled softly and reached over with her other hand to push his hair back. She let her fingers linger on his forehead before trailing them down to his cheek. He began to stir as she touched him.

When he opened his eyes, she quipped, “Good morning, Sunshine.” Her voice was raspy and grated in her dry throat, causing her to wince slightly.

Draco lifted his head and returned her smile. “How do you feel?” he asked tentatively.

Ginny shrugged. “A little stiff, but I’m okay. How about you? That position didn’t look too comfortable.”

He stretched his back awkwardly, not letting go of her hand. “It wasn’t too bad,” he told her. “Better than these lumpy beds.” He indicated the mattress Ginny was laying on.

Ginny pulled herself into a sitting position and swung her legs off the bed so she was facing him. “I must look awful," she groaned, feeling her face with her free hand. “I feel like I look awful.”

Draco pulled her hand away and shook his head, looking into her eyes. “No. You look perfect,” he stated firmly.

Ginny felt herself blush hotly and looked away. “Don’t lie, Draco. I can feel the marks. Not to mention, there’s blood all over both of us, and I’m willing to bet that it’s mine.”

“I still say you look perfect.” He brought both of her hands to his lips and kissed them. “You always look perfect.”

The look in his eyes caused fireworks to go off in Ginny’s stomach. Not the regular kind either. More along the lines of Fred and George’s Wild-Fire Whiz-bangs, Deflagration Deluxe. “What’s come over you, Malfoy?” she asked nervously. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

Draco leaned toward her, a serious look on his face. “Gin, I…”

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office just then and Draco stopped whatever it was he had been about to say. “Oh, good. You’re awake,” the mediwitch exclaimed. She hurried over to the bed and began to check the wounds on Ginny’s face.

Ginny tried to wave her off. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” She winced as Pomfrey pressed different spots on her face.

“Ow!” she cried suddenly. Madam Pomfrey had found a tender spot on her forehead.

Instantly, Draco jumped forward. He pulled the mediwitch’s hands away from Ginny. “Stop it!” he exclaimed. “Can’t you see you’re hurting her?”

He planted himself in front of Ginny, blocking her from Madam Pomfrey, and put his hand on the side of her neck. “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.

“Draco, I’m fine,” Ginny assured him. “Really.”

His eyes flashed uncertainly, but he backed away, still watching warily.

Pomfrey handed him a potion. “Drink this,” she commanded. “You seem to be experiencing a fair bit of stress. This will help you relax.”

She turned back to Ginny. “You’re doing well. The marks are fading nicely and there doesn’t appear to be any lasting damage. I’d like you to stay here today, however. You lost a lot of blood last night and I don’t want you to overdo it.”

Ginny nodded and peeked over Pomfrey’s shoulder at Draco. She giggled as he grimaced at the flavour of the potion. He rolled his eyes at her with a look that indicated just how funny he thought it was.

“Madam Pomfrey,” he asked, “do any of your potions taste good?”

The mediwitch glared at him. “I do not make them for their taste,” she told him sternly. “They are strictly for medicinal purposes.”

Draco flopped onto his chair, one leg hanging over the side in a leisurely fashion. Ginny was struck by how handsome he looked. His hair was still mussed from his awkward sleeping position and he was wearing a glum expression, but it all seemed to add to his charm.

Ginny suddenly realized that Draco was watching her as she checked him out and blushed. Madam Pomfrey had left without her noticing, so the room was empty but for the two of them. She dropped her eyes to her hands, which she was twisting in her lap, and mumbled a quick, “Sorry.”

Draco grinned. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “I like seeing that admiring look when you look at me.”

“I wasn’t… admiring you,” Ginny said, blushing even more. “I was… just… wondering how you’re not falling out of that chair.” Oh yeah. Good one, she thought to herself.

Draco gestured to himself. “It’s easy. And that’s not what you were thinking.”

“Oh? And what was I thinking?”

“It was obvious. I could see it all over your face.” He gave her a sly look and added, “You think I’m sexy.”

Ginny gasped. He’d hit the mark straight on. She tried to think of a response, but no sound came out as she opened and closed her mouth. Trying to mask her embarrassment, she swung her pillow at him.

Draco grabbed it as it whipped past his head, giving it a sharp tug. Ginny shrieked as she tumbled on top of him. She planted her hands on his chest to push off, but he grabbed her waist and held her down.

On impulse, Ginny leaned forward and kissed him as softly as she could on his ear and whispered, “Thank you for helping me last night.”

Draco’s fingers tightened around her waist, causing her skin to tingle pleasantly. “You shouldn’t do that,” he whispered, “unless you’re willing to face the consequences.” He pulled her up against his chest and kissed a sensitive spot on her neck.

Ginny moaned and gripped his shoulders. His hands slid up her back to press her tighter to him as he planted little kisses all the way up her neck and across her jaw. He stopped just centimeters from her lips and locked eyes with her.

Ginny felt like she would explode as she mentally pleaded with him to go on, not trusting herself to speak. He just watched her, an infuriatingly calm look in his eyes.

Finally Ginny couldn’t take it any longer. She made a low groan in the back of her throat and did it herself. She pressed her lips to his fiercely; frustrated by the triumphant look he gave her before closing his eyes.

It then became a contest as to who would be in control. Ginny felt that she could never be close enough to him and was pleased that he seemed to feel the same way; if the gentle pressure on the back of her neck, where his hand was tangled in her hair, was any indication. When they pulled apart many minutes later, Ginny’s lips were swollen and red and they were both trembling.

Ginny dropped her head to his shoulder and leaned against him, trying to catch her breath. She listened to his heart pounding away in sync with her own and smiled, pleased that she could affect him like that.

Draco chuckled and stroked her hair. “I knew you wanted me,” he murmured against her ear.

Ginny sighed. “You drove me to it. Somehow, you knew I would respond.” She lifted her head and glared at him. “You’re despicable.”

“And yet… here we are.” Draco shifted to a sitting position and arranged her so she was sitting comfortably in his lap. He twisted a strand of her hair around his finger.

Ginny grabbed his hand and gently rubbed his knuckles, studying the contrast between his pale skin and her red hair. “What were you going to say earlier?” she asked. “When Madam Pomfrey interrupted."

Draco was silent for a minute as he contemplated whether or not to tell her. “It’s not important, Weasley,” he finally mumbled with a slight blush.

Ginny stood up off his lap and sat back on the bed, feeling empty at the sudden lack of his closeness, but determined not to show it. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “Okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

I hope this works, she thought as she leaned back on the pillows, trying to look nonchalant. She failed miserably, however, as her curiosity got the better of her and she glanced back at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked casually, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Ginny nodded, giving up the pretense. “Yes. I do.”

Draco leaned in once more, his voice dropping so that she could just barely hear it. “Ginny, I love you,” he murmured.

Ginny’s breath caught in her throat at his admission. He loved her?

He continued in a rush. “I didn’t realize it until last night, when you were lying there in the hospital bed. You looked so fragile and I was terrified. I know it seems stupid and cliché, but I knew in that moment that I loved… love you.”

Ginny felt like her heart would burst. Tears came to her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Now… would be the time to say something,” he rasped, looking more ruffled that she’d ever seen him.

Ginny couldn’t seem to get a grasp on her thoughts. Her mind was whizzing so fast, she could only comprehend his stormy-grey eyes watching her intently. He looked vulnerable and completely open.

How did she feel? It was all rather sudden; they’d only been together for a short while. She was attracted to him, to be sure. But did she love him? Her thoughts flicked rapidly from one memory to another; smiles, laughter, and kisses all blended together in a haze. All she could make out was pure joy and…

“I love you, too, Draco,” she breathed as she came to the realization.

He beamed and reached for her, nearly crushing her in his arms.

“I love you,” she repeated softly, her face buried comfortably in his shoulder.

---

Draco stretched and surreptitiously stuck the papers he had been copying back into his bag. He glanced around to see if anyone noticed, trying to keep the movement as casual as possible. The Slytherin common room, where he’d been for the last hour, was crowded, but everyone seemed to be occupied with their own activities. They were all ignoring each other.

Draco sat for a minute longer, staring off into the darkened, gloomy corners of the room. He didn’t want to make this visit to his father tonight, but it was absolutely necessary. He’d been putting it off, still hoping there was some way he could get out of it.

He stood with a sigh and headed toward the stairs that would take him to his dormitory. Blaise finally noticed him and jumped up to follow, but neither one of them said anything as they walked.

Once they’d settled into their room, Blaise said, “Did you hear? Pansy has detention tonight for her attack on the Weasley girl.”

“Finally?” Draco replied. “It’s been ten days! About time something happened.”

Blaise looked at him oddly before continuing. “She’s been sent into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid.”

“That’s it?” Draco exclaimed. He didn’t think this served justice for an unwarranted attack on an unsuspecting student. “That’s been a popular one recently, but what she did is so much worse than some of the other stuff that goes on. She should at least spend one night in the dungeons.”

His rage must have shown on his face because Blaise raised his eyebrows. “You seem pretty upset about this,” he stated.

Draco suddenly realized that he was talking to Blaise Zabini, another Slytherin who could never understand or appreciate the depth of emotion Draco was feeling. As a rule, Slytherins did not consider emotion important. Most saw it as a weakness and preferred to be indifferent.

Draco shook his head. “I don’t know what to think, Blaise,” he said, trying to assuage his friend’s curiosity. “This whole system… there’s no… it’s all messed up. There’s no order to it.”

Blaise nodded slowly and Draco could practically see the wheels turning in his head. The other Slytherin was extremely brilliant, even if he usually had his face attached to a girl. It wouldn’t take much for him to discover that there was more between Draco and Ginny that they were letting on.

Draco tried to distract Blaise from his pondering by asking him about his newest girlfriend, an exceptionally curvy girl a year behind them. He made a general comment in reply, then said, “You like her don’t you? And don’t mess with me. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

Draco sighed. “I’ll admit,” he replied casually, “that she’s an attractive girl, and I’m interested. I’m sure it’s only a passing thing though. I mean, look at all the other girls I’ve had over the years.”

Blaise gave him a calculating look that made him want to squirm. “Passing,” he scoffed. “This is different. It’s more than just attraction and passing interest. I can always tell with you Draco. You really like her.”

Draco stared at his friend. He’d known him for ages, but Blaise never failed to surprise him with how well he could read people. How does he do it? he wondered to himself. He just seems to know.

Blaise shrugged as if he’d never been concerned in the first place and changed the subject. They talked for a while about insignificant things like the essay that Professor Flitwick had assigned that day and an odd comment one or the other had overheard.

Finally the other students started going to bed. The boys said good-night, then Draco climbed behind the curtains of his four poster and lay quietly, listening.

Thirty minutes passed before all noise had stopped and the sounds of sleep began. Crabbe let out a deafening snore and Theodore Nott began mumbling nonsensically. Draco cautiously slipped out of bed and out the door, grabbing his hand-written notes on the way.

When he reached the large stone fireplace, the fire nearly dead by now, he took a handful of Floo powder. He threw it into the fireplace saying “Malfoy Manor” as loud as he dared, and stepped into the green flames. As he whirled away through the millions of fireplaces he focused on not allowing anything to show on his face.

After several seconds, the spinning slowed until Draco was able to step out of the grate into his father’s study. The room was dark, lit only be the fire Draco had just exited. Books were scattered across the large mahogany desk in a haphazard way, which was unusual for its normally immaculate state of organization.

Lucius Malfoy lifted himself out of a chair that had been hidden in a deep shadow off to one side of the fireplace. He stepped in front of Draco and surveyed him stiffly. “So you finally decided to come, Draco,” he drawled. “I haven’t seen you in nearly two weeks.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Draco replied. “A lot has been happening this week. It’s my N.E.W.T. year, you know. Homework has been exhausting.”

Lucius stalked to his desk and pushed the books to the floor. “How many times do I have to tell you? School is not important anymore. With Him you won’t need any of that. Your assignment is worth so much more than your education.”

“I want it anyway, Father.”

“Why? What can that school give you that the Dark Lord cannot?”

Draco took a deep breath. “The satisfaction of knowing I’ve done it for myself. That I’ve actually earned what I get, rather than having it handed to me,” he explained, hoping his father would understand.

Ice seemed to shoot out of Lucius’ eyes. “You are earning it, Draco.” He settled easily into his seat and motioned to the one across the desk from him. “Now, what have you brought me?”

Draco handed his father the three spells he’d grabbed earlier. Lucius looked at the first two casually, as if they were nothing. When he flipped to the last one, however, his expression changed. His eyes took on a hard, accusing cast and his face flushed.

His jaw clenched, he threw the paper back at Draco. One edge caught his cheek, scraping roughly across the skin. As Draco clutched his face, Lucius bellowed, “You already showed this one to me!

Draco picked it up in horror and read over it. “I did?”

Could he possibly have forgotten? Could he have made such a stupid mistake? He had been so careful, trying to keep from getting caught in his deception. It was hard to keep all the spells organized, but he thought he had been doing well.

Lucius stood abruptly, throwing his chair backwards. “It was one of the first. You brought it to me the second time you reported.”

“I don’t… remember. There have been so many.” Draco was beginning to feel uneasy. Lucius was not known for his forgiving nature. If he had made such a big mistake… Draco hated to think.

Lucius rounded the desk and ripped the paper out of Draco’s hand to shake it in front of his face. “This spell is connected directly to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry. It keeps out known criminals. Easy to remember!” He slammed the spell back onto the desk. “You need to start keeping a record so this doesn’t happen again!”

Deciding that acquiescence was the best course of action, Draco replied, “Yes, sir.”

Lucius turned and headed back to his chair in the corner, which was the cue to leave. Draco stood slowly and moved over to the fireplace, surprised that Lucius hadn’t been more angry. He reached up for the Floo powder, but Lucius suddenly returned to the light and grabbed his wrist.

“This should help you to remember,” he said, glaring menacingly. He pressed a borrowed wand into Draco’s palm.

Instantly, Draco felt a searing pain. He cried out and tried to pull away, but the combination of his father’s vice like grip and the force of the magic prevented him.

After an agonizing minute in which Draco continued to struggle vainly, Lucius removed the wand. Draco clutched his throbbing hand to his chest and stumbled backwards, trying to keep himself from yelling again. Lucius grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire and shouted, “Slytherin common room, Hogwarts!” He shoved Draco, who tumbled into the flames.

The spinning was more intense because he wasn’t upright. He began to get dizzy and nauseous. Finally it stopped and Draco spilled out onto the hard stone floor. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

He tried to push himself up, but a strange, heavy sort of sensation spread from his hand into every part of his body. He fell stiffly back to the stone floor, unable to lift himself. This is going to be a long night, he thought glumly.

---

“I wish they would let us go to Hogsmeade,” Ginny was saying. “There’s nothing to do on a Saturday except study.”

Neville nodded in agreement. They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, going over their homework assignments. “Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, you know,” he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Ginny was a bit surprised at that. “Well, yes.” She looked at him questioningly.

He sighed. “Neither of us has a date. Everyone is going to be with someone special. Except us.”

Ginny blushed. She hadn’t told anyone about Draco yet, and the only time they’d been seen together was that time they’d gone into the Great Hall together, so it wasn’t as if anyone could have figured it out, especially with their denials and explanations.

They hadn’t actually made any plans for the holiday, but she hoped they would do something. She had sent an order by owl to buy a gift for him. Right now, a brand new pair of Quidditch gloves were hidden in her trunk waiting to be given to him. They had cost her a good portion of her saved money and she was very excited about them.

Neville continued, “We’ll be stuck doing the usual stuff.” He glanced down at his hands nervously. “Er… Ginny? Would you like to… er… hang out with me tomorrow?”

“Oh, Neville,” Ginny sighed.

He cut her off. “I know you and Harry were going out and you only broke up because of You-Know-Who so it won’t be anything really serious, but I just thought that you might want to hang out because we won’t have anything else to do. As a friend. I mean, you don’t have to. I just wondered.”

Ginny put her hand on his arm. “Neville…” She paused. How am I going to explain this to him? “I kind of have plans,” she said slowly. I’m sorry.”

Neville seemed to relax as he said, “Okay. That’s fine.” He closed his book. “I was just curious.”

Ginny stood up and stretched. “I’m going to take these back to the library,” she told him, pointing towards her pile of Transfiguration books.

Neville nodded absently, picking out another book from his own stack.

Ginny smiled fondly at the top of his head. He’d always been such a good friend to her. In her third year, he’d asked her to the Yule Ball because she’d desperately wanted to go and no one else would ask her.

Leaning down, she gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Neville,” she said. “You’re a great friend.”

Neville gave her a shy grin as she gathered up her books. “It’s nothing.”

As she left the common room, Ginny wondered where Draco was. He hadn’t been in the Great Hall for breakfast, nor had he been anywhere else. He’s probably sleeping in, enjoying a lazy morning, she told herself.

In the library, Ginny put away her books and greeted a couple of friends. They talked for a few minutes, mainly about extravagant plans for the upcoming holiday, then Ginny waved good-bye and made a hurried escape. She didn’t know what she was going to do next, but she definitely didn’t want to sit with a bunch of giggly girls and pretend to be enjoying herself.

Once she left the library, holding her wand just in case, she stopped. After a moment’s thought, she headed back to Gryffindor Tower. At least there she wouldn’t be alone. Maybe she could challenge someone to a game of wizard’s chess. She’d become really good, what with playing with Ron while he was still around.

About halfway there, Ginny finally saw Draco. He was several feet ahead of her, walking slowly, as if deep in thought. She walked faster and called, “Draco!” She caught up and slipped her hand into his, intending to pull him into a nearby classroom, but he gave a slight yelp and jerked it away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. She tried to look into his eyes, but he turned his head away from her.

“Nothing,” he told her shortly. Draco tucked his hands under his arms, unwilling to let her see them.

Ginny refused to be put off that easily, however, and pulled him to a stop in the hallway. She gently grabbed his arm and took his hand back out.

Draco clenched his fist and tried to pull away again. His hand throbbed beneath his fingers, but he didn’t want to let go.

Ginny held him firmly and said, “Draco. Let me see.” She prised his fingers up easily as he wasn’t holding them very tightly. She gasped when she saw his palm.

In the center was a blackened, burned-looking circle surrounded by a red ring. Little red streaks extended outward towards his wrist and fingers. Ginny looked up at Draco in horror.

“Bloody hell, Draco!” she exclaimed. “What happened?”

Draco looked around cautiously, then pulled Ginny into the nearest room, closing the door behind them. She pulled his hand closer to her as he set a locking charm and reached to touch the wound, but hesitated, settling for gently cupping his hand. It looked awfully painful and she didn’t want to accidentally make it worse.

Draco settled himself stiffly in a chair and sighed. Ginny sat next to him and urged, “Please tell me. What happened to your hand?”

Slowly he told her of his visit to his father. A couple of times, Ginny had to give him some encouragement. When he reached the part where Lucius attacked him, she gasped and tears filled her eyes. “How could he do that?” she asked. She shook her head incredulously.

Draco snorted. “My father has no qualms about using such methods to get what he wants. He certainly wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if I displeased him.”

“That’s awful,” Ginny murmured. “Does it still hurt?” She ran her fingers along the back of the hand she was still holding.

Draco shrugged. “Not too bad. Mostly it just throbs.”

Ginny leaned forward and, as gently as she could, laid a kiss against his palm. “I wish I could make it better.”

“You just did,” he replied. Draco lifted his uninjured hand and stroked her cheek, smirking as she leaned into his touch. “Just having you here makes it hurt less.”

Ginny smiled. “That’s really sweet, Draco. I never thought I’d hear you say something so sensitive.”

“Me neither. But it’s true. I really do feel better.”

Ginny moved to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head and captured her lips with his. His hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer. Ginny grinned and happily accepted this change.

They pulled apart and stared at each other for a minute. Ginny thought to herself that if someone had told her last year that she would be in love with Draco Malfoy, she would have suggested mental care. She inwardly shook her head at how things had worked out.

Aloud she said, “This is too dangerous. You shouldn’t go back to your father anymore if he’s going to be doing this.”

“Worried about me?” Draco asked huskily.

“It’s just that… this time it was just a curse. What if next time…” she paused and dropped her voice to a whisper. “What if next time he kills you?”

Draco sighed. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. But if I don’t go back he certainly will kill me. It wouldn’t be too hard for him to manage, either. The Floo Network is being monitored by the Death Eaters and they wouldn’t mind him coming here to Hogwarts.

"Besides, I have to do this. I have to keep putting them on the wrong path. If I don't do it, they'll get someone else; someone on their side. Then they'd be getting the right information and the school would be in danger.”

Ginny fell silent, then she stood and pulled him up with her. “Come on, little ferret. I’ll take you to Madam Pomfrey.”

Draco grinned at the nickname and allowed her to lead him out of the room and towards one of their secret passageways. “I really don’t want to go.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll know what to do.”

Madam Pomfrey ended up just wrapping his hand in a length of gauze, making his whole arm feel weighted down. She told him that it would heal by itself in a couple of days and until then to keep it bandaged and avoid using it as much as he could.

When Draco and Ginny prepared to go their separate ways again, he asked her to meet him in the kitchens after lunch the next day for Valentine’s Day. Ginny happily agreed and left, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

---

Draco finished his lunch in a hurry and took a back route to the kitchens. He patted his pocket to make sure Ginny’s gift was still there. He had been looking forward to their meeting since he’d invited her the day before. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw what he’d gotten her. He was quite proud of himself for picking it.

Seeing another student coming in the opposite direction, Draco ducked into a nearby alcove. He was tired of people constantly asking about his hand. The bandage he was wearing attracted a lot of attention and questions. Out of frustration, he’d told Pansy, after she’d pestered him all night long, that he had a highly infectious disease and she ought to keep away. This, of course, had started a rumour that created a lot of sick curiosity.

Gryffindors had swarmed the Slytherin table at breakfast, cheering that they would soon be rid of him. Students who had previously avoided him out of fear were seeking him out, asking, with disgust evident on their faces, to see his hand. Hufflepuff girls shrieked and ran away whenever they saw him.

When the coast was clear, Draco came back out of the alcove and continued on towards the kitchens. He’d almost made it when he heard an unfamiliar voice call, “Malfoy!” A fifth year Ravenclaw had just popped around the corner in front of him and there was no escape.

“So, is it true, then?” the boy inquired. “Are you about to kick it?”

Draco grimaced and sighed at the ceiling. “No,” he replied shortly. He tried to step around the boy, but was cut off.

“Well then, what is the deal with your hand?” he said persistently.

Draco growled. “If you must know… I was bitten… by a snake.”

The boy recoiled in horror. “Oh, that’s awful!” he exclaimed, but the glint in his eyes belied that statement. He leaned closer again and said, “Can I have a look?”

Draco glared at him and stormed away. He reached the kitchens and tickled the pear carefully, not wanting to vent his anger on the painting for fear that it wouldn’t let him in. Thankfully the handle appeared as usual and Draco opened the door.

He entered the kitchens and looked around unseeingly for a minute. He was surprised when a voice very close to his ear whispered, “I was wondering when you would get here.” Jumping slightly, he turned to find Ginny grinning up at him.

“Nervous, aren’t you, little ferret?” she said, standing on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck.

Draco sighed and wound his fingers in her hair, enjoying the feel of it as he calmed himself down. “I swear,” he said firmly, “if anyone else asks me about my hand, I’m going to hex myself. I’m sick of it.”

Ginny chuckled and leaned in to kiss his chin. “That’s too bad. I was kind of getting used to you.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe you can change my mind.”

“Maybe,” Ginny said, placing a teasing kiss on the side of his neck.

Draco put his hand on her waist and kissed her ear. This would definitely take his mind off of things. He used the hand that was already entwined in her hair to tip her head back. He bent forwards, aiming for her mouth, but she pressed a hand to his chest.

“I have something for you first,” she told him, biting her lip.

Draco slumped in disappointment and sighed. He took a step back as she reached into her pocket and hoped that this part would go quickly and they could get back to something a bit more interesting.

Ginny wrapped her fingers around the package and pulled it out, trying not to grin like an idiot in her excitement. The gold paper glinted in the firelight and shot streaks of light over the two of them.

Draco took the package in awe. It was obviously charmed to twinkle more than normal. The golden light was shining in Ginny’s hair, giving the illusion that she was glowing. “Beautiful,” was all he could manage.

Ginny blushed and broke eye contact. “Open it,” she urged.

Draco snapped out of his reverie and pulled off the paper. As soon as he did, the enchantment was ruined. He looked up a little sadly until a pair of Quidditch gloves fell into his hand. “Perfect!” he exclaimed. “I was almost ready for new ones.”

“I thought you’d like them,” Ginny said happily. She was practically jumping up and down with pleasure. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Draco laughed and planted a kiss on her lips. “Thank you. I love them. And now,” he said dramatically, “I have something for you. Close your eyes.”

Ginny looked at him suspiciously for a moment, then did as she was told. Draco swept one hand across her cheek as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out her gift and held it in front of her, feeling guilty for not wrapping it. “Okay. Open your eyes.”

Ginny’s gasp of surprise was well worth the worry. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw the silver locket he was holding up. It was in the shape of a little heart, studded with a single emerald and ruby near the middle with a diamond between them, almost as if it was connecting them.

“Draco,” she breathed as she looked up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

Draco turned it around so that she could see the back. “My Everything,” she read aloud. Before she’d even finished, she jumped forward and enveloped him in a crushing hug.

Grunting at the impact, Draco wrapped his arms around her as he tried not to stumble. “I take it you like it,” he mumbled through the red hair that filled his mouth.

Ginny pulled back and met his eyes. “I love it!” She turned around and pulled her hair up off her neck.

Draco, feeling quite pleased with himself, reached around her shoulders and, after planting a kiss on the back of her neck, clasped the locket around it. “Happy Valentine’s,” he whispered.

Ginny turned back to face him, holding up the necklace. She read the inscription again and sighed. “This is wonderful, Draco,” she told him happily.

Draco smirked. “Do I get a kiss now?”

Ginny seemed to ponder this for a minute with a twinkle in her eyes. Then she gripped his collar and pulled him to her.

Draco responded by scooping her up so that her feet hovered just above the floor and proceeded to snog her senseless. They only stopped kissing when they began to feel dizzy from lack of oxygen. He set her down and rested his forehead against hers.

Ginny stared up into his eyes and saw the love plainly evident there. She smiled contentedly and snuggled closer to his chest.

Draco rubbed his hands up and down her back as he held her. She felt so right in his arms. She fit so perfectly that Draco had to wonder how he’d gotten along without her. It seemed ridiculous that someone who so obviously belonged here, leaning up against him, had only just entered his life.

Ginny was having much the same thoughts. She marveled at how comfortable she felt with his arms around her, like they’d been made to fit together; something she’d never felt with Harry. She felt like standing right here, like this, forever.

Draco obviously had other ideas, because he leaned down and nibbled her neck. Ginny moaned and tilted her head back. He captured her lips with his own and kissed her slowly and gently.

Ginny felt her whole body tingle with the sweetness of it. She pressed her fingers into the back of his neck as her knees turned to jelly. His arm tightened around her middle and she melted against him. Feeling that it was a decidedly unfair kiss, she sucked on his lower lip and was gratified to hear him groan. She sneaked her tongue into his mouth and began to do a thorough exploration.

They were soon up against a table that Ginny hadn’t noticed was there and Draco lifted her up onto it. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and tugged him closer. Her blood was humming and she wanted to ensure that he was just as affected as she was, so she slid one hand in between them and massaged his chest.

They finally pulled slightly apart, still wrapped tightly around each other, and Draco lifted the locket so that the words engraved on the back were plainly visible. “My everything,” he said huskily. “You are my everything. You saw me when no one else was looking. When no one else cared. I’ve fallen in love with you and I never plan to let you go. You mean more to me than anything.”

Ginny smiled, oddly touched by his sappy little speech. Draco wasn’t one for sentiment and emotion, so this was a big step for him. “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” she told him.

As Draco lay in bed that night, the image of Ginny with golden lights streaming from her hair filled his thoughts. All he could see was her face, shining with pure joy… because of him. It gave him a warm feeling to know he had that effect on someone. Especially since that someone had the exact same effect on him.

---

Ginny quickly made her way up the seven flights of stairs to the Room of Requirement. Neville had finally managed to arrange a D.A. meeting and she was really excited about it. Two new students had agreed to join and they would be sworn in today.

Stopping beside the blank wall across from the large tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his trolls, Ginny glanced around. Satisfied that she was alone, she began the familiar routine to make the door appear. She stepped into the room and looked around with a smile.

The new D.A. had made several changes since Harry Potter had left. Quite a few new books had been added to their Defense Against the Dark Arts collection and posters indicating the use of different spells were pinned up all over. Not to mention the blown-up photo of Harry Potter himself from the Daily Prophet declaring him No. 1 Undesirable that was prominently displayed in the middle of the far wall.

Neville jumped forward and greeted Ginny. He pulled her into the group of students, talking excitedly about an idea he’d had. Ginny was impressed with the way Neville had taken charge of the group. No one would have expected it of the shy boy.

The meeting started five minutes later, after Ginny was forced to use a Sonorus spell to get everyone’s attention. The two new students, both from Ravenclaw, signed the parchment that Hermione Granger had enchanted when the D.A. was created. The charm she had used instantly revealed the identity of anyone who betrayed the secret group.

The students looked a little nervous as they took part in their first meeting. Ginny offered them comforting words as Neville asked them to demonstrate a couple of spells to test their knowledge. They did pretty well and accepted their congratulations with relieved faces.

Ginny helped them practice the Reductor Curse for a while, until the older one, Annette Wimbly, misfired and destroyed a mirror behind Ginny’s head. Good-natured laughter rang out around the room and the other members were quick to put the girl at ease. Soon she was laughing as well.

As it turned out, the younger Ravenclaw, Marcus Dembol, was brilliant with a variation of shield charms. Neville immediately asked him if he’d be willing to work with the younger students. Marcus was excited to be singled out and quickly agreed. The meeting progressed smoothly after that and the new members found it easy to fit in.

As Ginny was about to leave the room, Parvati Patil stopped her to talk.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Ginny,” she said. “What have you been up to?”

Ginny shrugged. “Studying, mostly. I’m trying to stay on top of my schoolwork now they have us doing so much ridiculous stuff.”

Parvati suddenly noticed Ginny’s necklace. “Oh, my gosh!” she shrieked, lifting it to study up close. “This is beautiful! Where did you get it?”

“It was a gift,” Ginny said evasively. She tried to cover up the happy smile that came to her face at the memory.

Parvati winked. “Who is it? Who have you been seeing?”

“What?” Ginny exclaimed. “I never said I was seeing anyone!”

Smiling, Parvati agreed. “No. But you didn’t have to. These past few months you’ve been practically glowing. I’ve never seen you this happy. Not even when you and Harry were going out.”

Ginny started to argue, but Parvati cut her off. “Not to mention,” here she paused to turn the locket over, rubbing her thumb over the inscription, “it says ‘My Everything’. It’s obviously from a guy. A particularly romantic guy.”

Ginny blushed and a self-conscious giggle escaped her lips. “Okay. There is someone. I don’t know about ‘particularly romantic’, but…”

Parvati squealed. "I knew it! Why haven’t you told anyone?”

“Well. He’s not exactly very popular among the students. We figured it would be better to keep it under wraps. At least for now.”

“So does that mean you’re not going to tell me?” Parvati gave a little pout.

Ginny hesitated. Should she tell? She couldn’t keep it a secret forever, especially from her friends. It would come out eventually. But how accepting would everyone be? She knew that Draco wasn’t what everyone thought, but that wouldn’t change how they already thought of him. Besides, they’d agreed to keep it a secret. Ginny shook her head.

Parvati looked crestfallen. “Oh,” she said. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t tell a soul. I swear.” She clasped her hands under her chin and stuck out her bottom lip. “Please?”

Ginny laughed and shook her head again. “Sorry, Parvati,” she said. “I can’t tell you just yet. We agreed.”

“Oh, alright. But I’m still dying to know.” Parvati’s eyes suddenly lit up and she gasped. “I know! Invite him to a meeting. Then we can meet him and he can get involved with the cause!”

Ginny had to admit that it was a good idea, though she had no idea how Draco would feel about actually joining the fight against Voldemort. He was already supplying false information to thwart the Dark Lord’s plans, but it was another thing entirely to actually join an army.

To Parvati, Ginny said, “How do you know he isn’t already a member?”

Parvati grinned. “Because you told me that he wasn’t popular with the students. Members of the D.A. are pretty well accepted.”

She was right, of course. This group had originally come together to defy Professor Umbridge two years ago and to learn practical defense. As time went on, however, they had become more active in the school itself. A lot of the members were tutoring younger students and there were all-around good deeds.

There had been a few rescues performed for students who had been imprisoned in the dungeons below the school (those hadn’t gone so well, though, so it had been reluctantly abandoned) and everyone absolutely refused to take part in the torturing of other students that had become a regular part of their lessons. When a Slytherin attacked someone, a D.A. member was right there to bring an end. All in all the D.A. was well-loved by everyone (except for the Slytherins).

Ginny blushed as she realized that Draco was one of the very group that despised her ‘do-gooder’ friends. On more than one occasion he’d sneered at their defense of the younger students. He claimed that it was weak to worry about anyone but yourself. Ginny had reminded him of his concern for her after Parkinson’s attack and was rewarded with a sullen look and a complaint that ‘that was different’.

Parvati chuckled. “He’s not a Slytherin, is he?” When Ginny didn’t reply, she gasped. “He is! A Slytherin, Ginny? I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Ginny gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” she told her friend. “He’s nothing like the rest of them. He used to be, but… he’s changed.”

“So, are you going to bring him to a meeting? Neville told me that he’s got one planned for the first of March.”

“We’ll see,” Ginny said. She didn’t want to make any promises, but deep down, she hoped he would come. She just needed to figure out a way to ask him without offending him or making him angry.

Parvati surprised her by suddenly asking, “What about Harry?”

“Harry?” Ginny was a little confused by the switch in topic. She was still thinking about Draco. “What about him?”

Parvati shrugged. “Well, you two were going out last year. I was just curious. It’s quite the change.”

You don’t know the half of it, Ginny thought to herself. Truthfully, she had felt a little guilty at first about falling in love with her former boyfriend’s enemy. He hated Draco almost as much as Voldemort. She’d gotten over that, though. Harry had broken up with her, after all.

Aloud, she said, “Harry and I broke up. We didn’t really work out as a couple as well as I thought we would. He said he just wanted to protect me from You-Know-Who, but I think we’d both begun to fell the same way.”

Parvati nodded in understanding. “I thought you guys didn’t seem quite comfortable with each other. I mean… not in a bad way. You just didn’t seem very… couple-ish. You know? You were always more like brother and sister.”

Parvati wrinkled her nose. “It was interesting to watch you snogging.”

“Thanks,” Ginny said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She knew it was true, though. Harry hadn’t been the best kisser. He had nothing on Draco, for sure! And she hadn’t felt any excitement from it. It was almost like snogging one of her brothers. No offence, Harry.

Parvati giggled. “Come on. Let’s get back to the common room before we get in trouble.”

She headed out the door and Ginny followed with a sigh. They talked the whole way back to Gryffindor Tower about insignificant things, Ginny still trying to figure out the best way to approach Draco about Parvati’s idea. So far she had nothing.

The common room was full as the early curfew trapped all the students together. It was much too early to go to bed, so people tended to congregate down there. The noise was incredibly loud and both girls paused for a second to brace themselves against the commotion.

Parvati said a quick good-bye and went to sit with her seventh year friends. Ginny took the opportunity to escape to the relative quiet of her dormitory. Her roommates were already there, discussing hair-styles and makeup, but it was better by far that the chaos to be found downstairs.

Ginny curled up on her bed with a book, but that was more for show than actual reading, caught up as she was in her thoughts. She’d already discarded two plans for bringing up the D.A. with Draco and her mind was quick-firing ideas to her. Bit by bit, she pieced together an approach.

It was a long-shot, but she figured Draco had probably had enough with riddles and beating around the bush. That was pretty much the way of things in Slytherin. Straight-forward and direct, she decided, would be her best bet. It was quite late by the time Ginny settled on this, so she began preparing for bed. She could only hope that it would be effective.

---

March first found Draco reluctantly following behind Ginny as she led him through endless twists and turns and up several flights of stairs. “I’m not really sure about this, Ginny,” he told her grumpily. After all, who would be happy, preparing as he was to go meet up with a bunch of Gryffindors and whatnot who were planning to overthrow his father’s precious master?

“Don’t chicken out now, little ferret,” Ginny scolded, stopping abruptly and turning to face him. “You agreed to come.”

Oh, but he did love it when she called him that. Though right now she was using it to soften him up. And to Draco’s chagrin, he know it was working. He scowled and motioned for her to lead on.

Ginny smiled triumphantly and turned back around, once again setting a fast pace along the corridor. Draco sighed, unsure whether he wanted to hex her of snog her. She made him feel like that a lot; so easily messing with his head and, dare he think it, his heart. He didn’t realize he was standing in the middle of the hall just staring at her until she looked back at him and cleared her throat.

Draco grumbled to himself as he followed her. Finally, after another set of stairs and five more turns, she stopped in front of a nondescript wall. Draco raised his eyebrows and asked in disbelief, “The Room of Requirement? Your group meets in here?”

“Very good, Malfoy,” Ginny replied teasingly. She ignored his glare and continued. “Yes, we meet in the Room of Requirement, same as we always have. Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad couldn’t scare us off.”

She paused and looked up at him, concern flashing in her eyes. “Are you ready?”

Draco shrugged. “Well, I’ll never be ready. But I’m not going to run away, either.”

Ginny laughed and anxiously smoothed his robes over his shoulders. “I didn’t expect you to.”

Draco grabbed her wrists to stop her frantic movements. “You’re going to make me nervous. Calm down.” He placed a feather light kiss against her fingers. “It’ll be fine.”

Ginny sighed. “I know. I’m just worried about how everyone’s going to react to a Slytherin, especially this Slytherin, walking in.”

Draco still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to convince him to do this. She’d come to him almost two weeks ago and innocently told him about a group of students who studied Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Draco could remember something like that in his fifth year and had been kind of surprised to hear about its continuation.

He was even more surprised by the fact that he’d agreed to join. It wasn’t a sudden desire to be noble or even just to gain recognition. He now realized that he wanted to fight Voldemort. Not just disobey him, but actually fight him. He’d been putting it off for a long time, but he’d always known he would eventually need to pick a side and commit to this war.

“Just keep your wand in your pocket,” Ginny said warningly, interrupting his thoughts. “They’ll be less likely to attack you if you are unarmed.” She grabbed his hand then.

“Thanks,” Draco drawled. “That’s very reassuring.”

A minute later they were pushing open the heavy wooden door. Draco took a deep breath as the interior came into view and squared his shoulders. It was already full of students, and they were all looking at him. He immediately put on his most confident expression, the same one that had carried him through these seven years of school, and allowed Ginny to pull him inside.

The room was rather simple. Not really decorated so much as… loved in. Posters and pictures and old books littered the place. A couple of dummies, presumably for practicing more hazardous spell, were mounted in one section and pillows were scattered across the floor in another.

Across the room a giant photo of Potter himself glared at Draco as he stepped into the room. Of course, they would have him in here. The great bloody hero who was going to save the world from doom and destruction. He must have tensed because Ginny started rubbing her free hand up and down his arm.

The members of… the D.A. wasn’t it?… cautiously gathered around. Draco looked back at them just as cautiously. Truth be told, he really did feel like running away. It was only his pride that kept him there.

Ginny smiled at the other students and her grip on Draco’s hand tightened. “Hey, everyone,” she said nervously. “This is Draco Malfoy. He wants to join.”

Several members looked at him with disbelief written on their faces. Someone called out, “He just wants to spy on us! Why’d you bring him here?”

Ginny stiffened and leveled a glare at the speaker that made Draco cringe and feel thankful that he wasn’t on the receiving end. “He is not a spy!” she snapped. “He just wants to join us.”

Another student argued, “His father’s a Death Eater! How do you know he’s not one too?”

“I trust him,” Ginny replied. She glanced at him for a second, then back to the crowd of students who still didn’t seem convinced.

Draco had had enough. “Do you want proof?” he asked, desperately reigning in his anger.

Ginny tugged on his arm. “Draco,” she hissed, “you don’t have to prove anything to them.”

The members of the D.A., however, felt differently. Shouts of assent came from every direction. Draco gently pulled himself out of Ginny’s hands and pulled up his shirt sleeves, exposing his unblemished arms to the group.

Neville Longbottom stepped out of the crowd and extended his hand. “Welcome to Dumbledore’s Army, Malfoy,” he said.

Draco gripped the boy’s hand and was surprised by the firm shake he received. Several more students stepped forward to shake his hand, though slightly less confidently than Longbottom had.

Draco glanced down at Ginny and she smiled. He took her hand again as she led him to a table he hadn’t noticed before. It looked like it was ready to fall apart. Or maybe already had and been sloppily repaired. She handed him a quill and pointed to a piece of parchment that was covered in signatures and bearing the heading DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY.

“You’ll need to sign this,” she told him. “It’s charmed to reveal anyone who betrays the group, so be sure you don’t mention it to anyone.”

When he’d signed the paper, Ginny took the quill back and held up a Galleon. He raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned. “It’s got a Protean Charm on it so that we can send messages to the members. Meeting times and stuff.”

Draco nodded and stuffed the coin into his pocket. “Hm. Well, that’s not a bad idea,” he said, mildly impressed.

Ginny‘s smile grew. “It was Hermione who set it up. She planned the whole thing and charmed the member sheet and the coins.”

Draco’s first instinct was to take back every complimentary thing he’d said, but he forcibly swallowed the urge and settled for simply smiling back at the red head. She seemed pleased.

The meeting started then, and, to Draco’s surprise, Longbottom appeared to be in charge. He paired them off and told them to practice stinging charms and shields. Draco found himself across from Ginny, though he could see by the looks some of the others were giving him that they would have loved to be the one to have a chance to hex him.

“Do you want to go first or should I go ahead?”

Draco shook his head. “I don’t care. You can do it.”

Ginny smiled and the glint in her eyes made Draco feel a bit nervous. “Alright,” she said simply.

He only just had enough time to cast his shield charm before Ginny’s nonverbal spell flew at him. He glanced at her sharply and she merely laughed at his surprise. Draco retaliated with a quick stinger of his own, but her block was just as quick as his.

They waged their own little battle for quite a while until Draco finally managed to get past Ginny’s shield charm. His spell hit her and knocked her off her feet. Ginny pushed up onto her elbows and glared at him.

Draco hurried over to pull her up, laughing and apologizing at the same time. Ginny slapped his hand away and got up on her own. “That wasn’t funny, Malfoy,” she told him sullenly.

Draco kissed her on the cheek, trying to make her feel better, and said, “No. But your reaction was.”

Ginny swatted his arm, but he could see the amusement dancing in her eyes. She pushed him away and whispered, “Back to your spot. You’re going to pay!”

At that moment, however, a dark-skinned girl came up behind Ginny and asked, “So it’s Draco Malfoy? He’s the one you’ve fallen for?”

Ginny blushed and nodded, giving Draco a sheepish look. “Draco, this is Parvati Patil, a housemate of mine. She saw the locket and guessed that I was seeing someone. I didn’t tell her it was you, though,” she hastily added.

Draco smiled and shook the girl’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Patil.”

The girl looked him up and down and grinned. “I never would have thought that you would be the romantic type, Malfoy. I seem to remember you trading insults with Harry on a near daily basis.”

Draco was slightly taken aback. “What do you mean? I’m certainly not the ‘romantic type’.”

Parvati reached for the silver chain around Ginny’s neck and lifted the locket that was hanging there. Draco felt a hum of satisfaction when he saw that she was wearing it. Parvati called his attention back by pointing out the engraving on the back. “I would give anything for a guy who would put something as sentimental as this on a piece of jewelry. It’s so sweet!”

Draco could feel himself flushing. He stared down at his feet as he tried to come up with a decent reply. “I just… wanted… I couldn’t… It’s only…”

Parvati smirked and interrupted. “I’ll just leave you two alone now.” And with that, she turned and left.

“Parvati’s a hopeless romantic,” Ginny explained. “She makes Romeo and Juliet look like a pair of love-sick puppies.”

“Who are Romeo and Juliet?” Draco asked. He’d never heard of anyone by those names.

Ginny shook her head. “Never mind,” she said. “Come on. Let’s keep going.”

They continued practicing for the rest of the meeting. Ginny did end up paying Draco back for his hex. Twice, in fact. Finally, none too soon in Draco’s opinion, Neville called an end and students began filing out the door.

Draco waited until nearly everyone was gone before sneaking up behind Ginny. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she jumped. He chuckled and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for bringing me. It was… fun.”

Ginny tried to turn to face him, but Draco prevented her. He put his chin on her shoulder and kissed her jaw. “Did you really like it?” she asked, giving in and leaning against him.

Draco sighed as she laced her fingers with his. “Yeah. I did. I’m kind of surprised, actually. And I’m glad you convinced me to join the good side. Your friends are nice, once they get over the hostility bit, that is. Just don’t expect me to turn into a goody two-shoes hero.”

Ginny laughed softly. “I won’t. Want to walk me back to my common room?” She cocked her head so that she could look at him and Draco took advantage of that by pressing a short kiss to her lips.

They pulled apart and Draco grabbed her bag for her in a show of chivalry. Ginny raised her eyebrows and led the way to Gryffindor Tower, smiling all the way. Once there, Draco handed her her bag, but instead of letting go, used it to pull her against him.

“Good night,” he whispered, right before covering her mouth with his own. His hands automatically moved to her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck.

Ginny pulled back first, her breathing heavy, and gave a little chuckle. “Good night,” she murmured. Then she disappeared through the portrait hole. Draco didn’t even remember hearing her give a password.

He sighed happily and made his way down to the dungeons. He had now officially joined the fight against the Dark Lord, but because he was with Ginny, he wasn’t the least bit worried.

---

The next few weeks passed by in a blur for Ginny. She could tell that people were becoming tense, as if they expected something to happen, but no one had said anything for sure yet. This, in turn, made Ginny tense. She and the D.A. were on their toes, waiting for a signal, a sign… anything.

On top of that, her work load had increased due to the approaching holiday, so she had little time for herself. Not that it mattered, since the only thing she wanted to do was to spend time with Draco, and he was busy as well. He had N.E.W.T.s that year and had been given even more homework that Ginny.

The majority of her time was spent either in the library or the common room with Neville or the other students in her year cramming for tests. The D.A. had gotten together again, but for the express purpose of practicing a new spell for Charms that was giving people trouble.

Ginny found herself going to bed later and later each night and waking up earlier and earlier each morning to work on all of her assignments. She landed herself three more detentions that month for late assignments and one for falling asleep in class. Only one of her detentions had been with the Carrows, but that didn’t make it any easier. She was still completely worn out by the end of the day.

She tried to make time to get away and see Draco, but it always seemed that she had an assignment due the next day. She began to get extremely frustrated with the way her homework was getting in the way. No matter how hard she worked, there was always more.

There were only two days left before spring break when Ginny finally had a free evening. As soon as she realized she could get away she took off for the kitchens. That was her best chance for meeting Draco since it had become a pretty regular spot for them.

Sure enough, when she entered the room, he was there, perched on a cushioned stool. His back was to the door so he didn’t see her come in. Ginny stood quietly for a moment to watch him. He had a mug of some steaming liquid gripped in both of his hands as he stared solemnly into the fire.

Draco sighed heavily and Ginny smiled as she admired the curve of his shoulders, broader that they had been in past years, and the way his hair brushed the back of his neck. Was it even possible for her to have once thought him to be unattractive?

Ginny waved away a house-elf before it could speak and give her away. She quietly walked toward the boy… man, really… that she had come to love in the past few months.

Love. Now that was an interesting thought. She’d once thought she’d been in love with Harry Potter; for several years, in fact. And maybe she had been… in a way. But this that she felt for Draco was so far above and beyond any other feeling that it was in a league of its own. Her relationship with Harry was hardly worth comparing.

Ginny came up behind Draco and reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Hi, there,” she said, kissing the side of his neck.

Draco jumped slightly and grabbed one of her wrists, twisting around to look at her. “Oh, so you finally decided to come and see me,” he snapped. He pulled her arms off of him and stood up off the stool.

Ginny was surprised at his reaction. “Draco?” she asked cautiously. She reached out to touch his arm, but he turned away from her to stare back into the fire.

“You’ve just been too bloody busy for me, haven’t you?” he said crossly. “I’ve been in here every night for three weeks waiting for you, but you never came. Not once in all that time.”

Ginny took a half step back and frowned. “I’ve had homework coming out my ears! I couldn’t just drop it and go for a jaunt! It seemed every time I finished something, there was something else to take its place.” She paused and added more gently, “I wanted to come. I really did.”

Draco rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “And you couldn’t bring it with you?” His face seemed to be made of stone as he continued to glare at the dancing flames. “We could have done our homework together.”

“Draco…” Ginny hesitated, then tried again, hoping she would be able to keep her frustration down. “If I had known you wanted to study with me… But you’ve got your N.E.W.T.s… and Neville’s been helping me in Herbology, and he needed help with Potions. We’ve been studying together.”

Draco made a grunting noise as he turned back to her. “Oh, of course!” he yelled, his eyes flashing angrily. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your precious Longbottom! Naturally you’d rather be with him!”

Ginny gasped. What had gotten into him? “Draco. You’re being completely ridiculous…”

“Am I?”

“…I wanted to see you more than anything!”

“Then why didn’t you?” He turned away from her once again and spoke in a deathly cold voice. “If you’d really wanted to, you would have found a way.”

Ginny could see that he was hurt by the way he was holding his arms. He seemed stiff and aloof, his way of blocking out emotion. She reached out and took his hand, relieved when he didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry, Draco.”

He sighed and his shoulders dropped slightly. “I haven’t seen you in three weeks, Ginny,” he said. “Except at those D.A. meetings, and that hardly counts.”

“Come home with me,” Ginny said impulsively. It was a sudden idea, but why not? They would be together every day, and he could meet her parents. “You can spend Easter at the Burrow.” Now that she’d said it, it seemed perfect.

Draco looked down at her with a sneer. “You’re kidding me, right? Why would I want to spend two whole weeks holed up in a shack with a lot of Weasels?”

Ginny was taken aback by his vehemence. “Excuse me? I’m one of that ‘lot of Weasels’, in case you’d forgotten!”

“Well, of course I don’t mind you,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “It’s all the rest of them…”

“They are my family!” Ginny cried, interrupting him as she jerked her hand out of his. “Just because you don’t happen to like them doesn’t mean…”

“Oh, come off it, Ginny!” Draco said loudly. “Our families have hated each other for years. I’m not going to suddenly like the rest of those dirty blood-traitors just because you and I have started seeing each other.”

Ginny’s eyes widened at this. “You still don’t need to be such an arse about it, Malfoy!” she spat. “You could tell me it would be torture and you’d rather die without insulting us!”

“Malfoy now, is it?” Draco asked, one eyebrow raised at her. “What happened to little ferret? That used to be your favourite insult for me.”

“Don’t you change the subject!” She emphasized her words with sharp jabs to his chest. “We’re talking about how you called my family, which includes me, a lot of Weasels and dirty blood-traitors!”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t see why you’re getting so worked up about it. You always knew that I hated your family. I never tried to hide it. In fact, if I remember correctly, which, of course, I do, you hate my family as well.”

“Yes, but I don’t flaunt my dislike like you do!” Ginny countered. “I respect the fact that they are your family, and I think I do pretty well at keeping my thoughts to myself!”

Things were getting extremely out of hand. Ginny could feel all of the stress of the last month building up behind her anger, making it much worse than it normally would have been. She couldn’t seem to make herself calm down, though.

And the way he was looking so… Malfoy-ish about the whole thing. He was wearing his usual smirking mask that kept his feelings hidden and his eyes were cool and expressionless. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or teasing or if there was something else behind his barbs against her family.

Draco sniffed. “Oh, well, thanks for that,” he snapped sarcastically. “But notice, this is the first time I’ve mentioned your family. And you brought them up!”

“Oh, Merlin!” Ginny said, waving her arms exasperatedly. “I was inviting you to spend the holiday with me. Not them! And I certainly never expected you to make nasty comments about them!”

Ginny was reminded of the way Draco had always acted with Ron when he smirked and said, “You opened the door, Weasley. What did you expect? I certainly don’t want to spend that much time cooped up with your rowdy horde of brothers and your Muggle-loving father!”

“Well, I’m sure glad we cleared that up! Good night!” And with that, Ginny spun on her heel and stalked out of the kitchens. She wished she could have slammed the door, but it was too heavy. She settled instead for stomping extra hard.



~///~



Draco watched Ginny go with a scowl on his face. He really hadn’t meant to make her angry. He just couldn’t seem to stop the words that were coming out of his mouth.

This had been building up all month long. What she’d said about the homework had been absolutely right. He’d certainly had a healthy dose of it. He had wondered several times whether the professors were doing it just to be cruel.

Then there had been the Voldemort thing. He’d been a bit apprehensive about going back to Malfoy Manor after his last meeting with Lucius. Another mistake would likely have resulted in more that just a burned hand.

All in all, he’d been under a fair bit of stress. Not to mention he hadn’t seen her in all that time. He’d been in a pretty bad mood to begin with, so when she finally showed up, all the pent up emotion had come rushing to the surface and he’d just snapped.

It was true though, the things he’d said. She had been spending more time with her friends than with him. Even if they had only been studying, the fact remained. It wasn’t fair that they got to see her all the time and he was limited to watching her from across the Great Hall or passing her between classes. As her boyfriend, he felt he was entitled to more of her time.

And of course he didn’t want to spend spring break at the Burrow. Draco grudgingly admitted to himself that he could have gone about it better, but he was still a little upset. He’d never hesitated before to insult the Weasleys, so it didn’t make sense that Ginny would have flipped out at him like she had.

But now he was even more upset. Not only was he frustrated and stressed, now Ginny was angry with him.

Oh, why did I keep going? he berated himself. Why couldn’t I have just been happy that she was finally here? We could have had a nice evening and I had to go berserk and ruin it.

A portion of his mind reminded him that she had argued and yelled right back at him. For every remark that Draco had, Ginny had one in response. So it wasn’t completely his fault.

But she had started out in a good enough mood. “I was the one who brought it to a fight,” Draco mumbled into his mug.

He wished that he had just turned around and kissed her when she’d come up behind him, since that had clearly been what she wanted. He closed his eyes against the memory of her arms wrapped around him. It was really amazing what she could do to his insides when she wasn’t even around.

It suddenly occurred to him, belatedly, that he should have gone after her and apologized. “What an idiot,’ he said, shaking his head at himself.

Draco dejectedly made his way back to the dungeons, determining to speak with Ginny the next day. He wished he could talk to her tonight, but he’d never be able to catch her.

However, as luck would have it, she didn’t appear at breakfast or at any point after breakfast. Or the next day. And then she was gone; back at home for the Easter holiday. There were two whole weeks before he would get another chance.

---

“What do you mean?” Ginny shouted at her parents across the kitchen table in the Burrow. She was the only one who was visiting for the holiday; Bill had stayed home with Fleur, Charlie in Romania, Fred and George in Diagon Alley, and Ron gallivanting Merlin only knew where with Harry and Hermione.

Molly Weasley cast a side-long glance at her husband before replying. “It’s gotten out of hand, dear. That school is no longer safe.”

“Mum! We’re talking about Death Eaters!” Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “If they want to attack me, they can do it just as easily here as there!”

Arthur nodded. “Yes, that’s true, but at least here we can protect you. We have no control over what happens at Hogwarts.”

Ginny groaned. “You don’t understand! My friends and I have been working against Snape and the Carrows all year! I can’t just leave!”

How could they expect her to just abandon her friends? She was just as much a part of this war as Harry and Ron and Hermione. No one had forced them to sit at home and do nothing! Why her?

Molly squeezed her hands together until her fingers started to turn purple. “You are out last child, Ginny,” she said quietly. “The only one left at home. We need to keep you close. I don’t know what I would do…” She bit her lip and shook her head.

Arthur slipped his arm around Molly’s shoulders and sighed. “I know how much you want to be involved, Ginny. You’re a Weasley. Passionate, confident.

“But you’re also our daughter. Our only daughter.” He paused, blinking quickly. “We have to do what we can to keep you safe.”

Of course they would play that card. The we-can’t-bear-to-lose-you card. Being the only girl in the family had a lot of drawbacks. This over-protectiveness was high on the list. Everyone treated her as if she belonged in a bubble, hidden from the world.

Ever since her first year and the thing with Tom Riddle’s diary, her parents or one of her brothers was always nearby to ‘keep her safe’. They were afraid to let her out of their sight. Afraid something would happen.

Even now, with her seventeenth birthday coming up, they were still trying to protect her. Smother her, more like. Whenever she dated a new guy, Ron would pull him aside for a customary big brother warning.

Ginny hadn’t had a normal relationship except for the one with Harry. Dean had come close, but every time they tried to snog, Ron would suddenly appear, as if drawn by some magical force (which, knowing him, he may have been). He would get so angry Ginny would’ve sworn some came out of his ears.

Then of course, there would be an owl from Mum telling her to be careful, not to do anything she wouldn’t do if Molly was watching her. Ginny just wished she could be trusted to take care of herself.

She’d proven herself time and time again. Her grades were nearly perfect. She hadn’t been in any danger since the diary. She helped Harry whenever she was allowed. Her Bat-Bogey Hex was a thing to be feared. She’d used it in defense a time or two, so clearly she didn’t need protection.

But still, everything stayed the same. No freedom. No peace. And now, no school.

Ginny sighed and slumped down into her chair. “I’m perfectly safe at school, Dad. Sure, Snape’s in charge and they’ve got Death Eaters for teachers, but I’m not in danger. Besides, I’m part of the student resistance movement.”

“Exactly!” Molly exclaimed. “Just look at what happened to poor little Luna Lovegood! They won’t hesitate to do the same thing to you.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’m not Luna. Besides, the only reason they arrested her was because of her father. Mr. Lovegood has been printing his support for Harry in the Quibbler. It had nothing to do with her or Dumbledore’s Army.”

“That doesn’t matter, Ginny,” Molly said firmly. “We refuse to leave you in that place while there is any danger at all, however minute. It’s too much of a risk and I won’t have it.”

Arthur leaned forward, looking very serious. “I know you don’t agree with us Ginny, but we only want what’s best for you. Now, you’re staying here. End of discussion.”

Ginny threw herself out of her chair and stormed upstairs to her room. “Wonderful!” she shouted before flopping across her bed.

She probably wouldn’t have been so upset had it not been for her recent argument with Draco. She’d been in an uncharacteristically bad mood since that day. This… development was just enough to push her over the edge. The straw that broke the camel’s back, as the Muggles had it.

“Why?” she moaned into her pillow. “For once, can’t things just go right?”

Ginny was confident that she could do just as much in the war as anyone else. Having been a part of the D.A. for two and half years now, she’d become pretty good with defensive magic. She was even better with offensive magic.

She had always been top of her class in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts (when it was still a class). Through independent study she’d learned spells that most Aurors didn’t know. Hermione would have been proud of her knowledge. She would be able to fight, no problem.

But simply because she was the youngest member of her family she was forced to sit at home and be ‘protected’. It wasn’t fair!

After an hour of absolute silence and brooding, Molly called Ginny down to supper. Things were pretty uncomfortable in the tiny kitchen. The tension was so thick you could taste it.

Ginny refused to speak, knowing that she’d probably only end up exploding again. Molly and Arthur were quiet as well, seeming to understand that she needed some time to cool down in peace.

The good thing about Ginny’s short temper was that it usually burned itself out quickly. That first initial burst of anger and then it would peter out. Short, but intense.

Sure enough, a week into the holiday Ginny began to reconsider the episode with Draco. She realized that she’d been too quick to get angry. Already primed from a month of stress, it didn’t take too much too set the fuse.

Ginny didn’t know why Draco had been in a bad mood that night, why he’d snapped at her, but she decided that she’d handled it poorly. Really, she should have expected him to insult her family. He always had.

Storming out the door angrily and avoiding him had been wrong as well. Her mother had always taught her to suck it up and take care of problems, not run away. Now she couldn’t see him and talk it out. They would have this hanging between them for an indecipherable period of time.

That was the worst part about being kept at home. No Draco. And she didn’t know if… no, when, not if… she would see him again. It wasn’t like they could just arrange to meet for coffee. The only people who knew they were together were the other members of the D.A. Well, Pansy knew, but no one had believed her when she went tattling.

And Martha, of course. Ginny had written to Charlie’s fiancée as soon as she’d arrived home, telling her that she’d been right, but that it was no use anyway. Martha had replied immediately with congratulations (more of an I-told-you-so, really), sympathy, and encouragement.

They kept up a pretty regular correspondence and Ginny spent a lot of time with Mr. Lovegood, so she had no lack of conversation and company. But nothing could ever make up for the long-term separation from Draco.

In an effort to keep herself from thinking too much and upsetting herself Ginny regularly pulled out her broom and flew around the protected area of the Burrow. She could spend hours in the air. The exhilaration of flying though the air easily took her mind off of things. Until she landed.

She only had an old Cleansweep, one of Fred’s old ones, so she didn’t go very fast. But it was enough to just feel the air stinging her cheeks and whipping her hair out behind her.

Molly complained that her hair would be tangled forever and that she always smelled like grass and brooms. But then she would smile, glad that Ginny had found something she enjoyed instead of spending her time being angry about having to stay at home.

Arthur would laugh and joke that she was better at sports that some of her brothers. Fred and George had always been known as a ‘pair of human Bludgers’, so in turn Ginny was compared to a Quaffle. Though it didn’t hold quite the same level of gratification.

And yet, no matter how much she did, her mind always found its way back to Draco. The instant she locked her broom away in the shed, or put down her book, or stopped practicing spells, she thought of him.

She wondered if he ever thought of her. Would he be upset when she didn’t come back after Easter? Would he care? Would she ever see him again?

---

Draco slammed his books down on a table in the back of the library and threw himself into a chair. The Slytherin common room was teeming with rambunctious students and he’d been forced to escape in order to be able to study. It was impossible to focus in there.

With the Easter holiday ending and students coming back to Hogwarts everyone was running around, excited to see friends again. It ended up being chaotic, loud, and annoying. Draco had had about enough.

Sure, he was anxious to see Ginny so that they could talk, but he wasn’t about to go crazy in anticipation. His excitement was limited to frequent glances at the clock and grimaces at the slow passage of time. He was careful not to let his impatience show any more than that.

The D.A. had a meeting planned for that night to welcome back the members who had been away. Draco figured, if he didn’t see Ginny before then, it would be a perfect opportunity to talk to her. Then he could… apologize… for being an arse that night in the kitchens. He shuddered at the thought. He had never been one to apologize, for any reason.

Draco knew that he was starting to get soft where Ginny was concerned. It used to be that he picked fights on purpose, then figured out a way to make it seem like it was the other person’s fault for kicks. What had happened? When had he become such a pansy?

A third year Hufflepuff began pawing through some nearby Transfiguration theory books nearby. Draco growled at him to get lost and smirked to himself when the boy turned white and ran. That’s better!

He turned his attention back to his textbooks and glowered at his half-finished History of Magic project. The class was so stupid and mind-numbing. He had no idea why he was even still taking it. Except it was a good time to catch up on any sleep he was missing.

Draco sighed and picked up his quill, immersing himself in a dull account of some dispute between some dead wizards no one cared a Knut about. The whole thing had happened something like three hundred years ago. No one even remembered it.

As he read and copied the details of the dispute, Draco lost all track of time. It wasn’t until Madam Pince tapped him on the shoulder that he even remembered where he was. “Are you planning on going down to supper, or have you developed a sudden interest in obscure history?” the stern-faced librarian wanted to know.

Draco cleared his throat and closed his book. “No. Thank you for reminding me, ma’am. I simply got distracted. Books, you know,” he said, adding a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

The greying woman flushed happily, clearly pleased that one of the students was showing such appreciation for the written word. “Of course, Mr. Malfoy,” she replied in a kinder voice. “Now, off you get. Don’t forget your things.”

Draco grinned, snatched up his bag, and hurried out of the library. He felt quite proud of himself that he could still charm the socks off of anyone if he wanted to. Ginny hadn’t completely ruined him yet.

He marched into the Great Hall and shot a sneer at a Gryffindor who was standing in the doorway. He almost laughed when the girl squeaked and cowered away from him.

Then he spotted Parvati Patil, that pesky girl from the D.A. talking with a group of her friends. She gave him a grin and waved. Automatically, Draco lifted his hand and waved back.

Then he realized what he was doing, acting all nice and… Gryffindor. He snapped his arm back down and shoved his hand into his pocket. He launched himself in the direction of the Slytherin table before he could do something even more embarrassing.

Blaise grinned at him as he dropped into his usual seat. “Hey,” the dark-haired boy said cheerily. “I noticed your entrance. Very impressive. The Draco I know is back!”

Draco traded his frown for a smirk. His fellow Slytherins all relaxed. Their leader was back to normal. All was good; the world could go on.

Pansy sidled up to Draco’s side and put a hand on his knee. “Drakie,” she simpered, leaning on his arm so that her imported perfume invaded his nostrils. “I was so worried about you, hanging around with that awful Gryffindor girl.”

Straining not to grimace, Draco pulled Pansy’s hand off of his leg. He put it on the table and patted it before turning away and talking with Blaise. Pansy was visibly disappointed, but not angry. She pouted and ate her food, contenting herself with just being near him again.

When the meal finished, Draco went back to the library to pass time until the meeting. He managed to finish his project and keep Madam Pince off his case at the same time. She kept trying to suggest books for him to read, but a few well placed compliments and scholarly comments and she was pleased as pie.

Finally the time came and Draco hurried up to the seventh floor. He’d figured out a couple of shortcuts that enabled him to make it there unseen. He paused in front of the tapestry of Somebody the Barmy; he’d forgotten the name of the idiot depicted teaching trolls ballet because he never cared; then he glanced around. When he was sure no one was nearby, he marched up and down.

Everyone else was already there when he stepped into the Room of Requirement. A couple of students said hello, but still more gave him a wary berth. That was fine by Draco; the distrust ran both ways.

Parvati broke away from her group and hurried over to him. She smiled and said, “Sorry about embarrassing you in the Great Hall. I hadn’t realized you were going back to being the bad boy.”

Draco waved her off. “Whatever. You lot are okay. I’ve just been getting some weird looks from my housemates. They all think I’ve gone loopy.”

“Well, haven’t you?” Parvati asked. Then she laughed. “I mean, who would have thought that Draco Malfoy, resident Death Eater of the future, would be chummy with a secret organization of Gryffindors hoping to defeat You-Know-Who?”

“I’ve been trying to salvage what’s left of my reputation by being as mean as possible. It’s all because of Ginny that I’m here in the first place.”

Parvati smiled. “She has a way of doing that, doesn’t she? I can’t wait ‘til everyone gets back! Though I’m expecting a few more will have decided that it’s safer to stay home, away from the school and its current teachers.”

Draco felt a sudden stab of alarm. He hadn’t even thought of that, but of course it was a possibility. “You don’t think….” He broke off, not quite sure what it was he was asking.

Parvati shrugged, looking troubled. “You never know. The Weasleys are thick in this war, but they’re extremely protective of Ginny, her being the only girl and all.”

At that moment, the door opened, preventing any more conversation and it seemed to trigger an increase in commotion. The gathered students surged forward to surround the newcomers, shouting greetings at their friends and trying to be heard over each other.

Draco stretched, trying to see over heads, searching for a telltale flash of red. He was taller than most of the members, but with everyone jumping excitedly and jostling each other, it was nearly impossible.

Using his elbows, Draco pushed his way through the crowd. Parvati followed in his wake, having a much easier time of it. When at last he broke through, it became painfully evident that Ginny was not among the group of smiling, chattering students.

Neville Longbottom came up as Draco’s shoulders sagged and glanced sadly between him and Parvati, who was looking just as disappointed. “Ginny Floo’d me last week and said she wasn’t coming back. Her parents are afraid it’s too dangerous. She seemed pretty upset about, but she didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

Draco glared at the other boy. “She Floo’d you?” he snapped. “She didn’t Floo me. Or owl me. Or anything.”

“Well, really Malfoy,” Neville said with a small shrug. “Can you imagine if she had Floo’d you in Slytherin? You’d probably have been murdered. And owls are just too easily intercepted these days. Hardly anyone even uses them anymore.”

Parvati quietly added, “Her family’s a part of the resistance movement. If she wrote to you and her owl were intercepted the both of you would be in a lot of danger.”

“Not that any of us would care,” said a boy who was standing nearby. Draco wasn’t sure, but he thought he remembered him being called Zacharias Smith or something equally awful.

Draco raked his eyes over the boy with a look of disdain on his face. To his credit, the boy didn’t back down, but he did look a little nervous.

The moment passed when someone revealed a stash of Butterbeer and proposed a celebration. This was met with cheers and the jostling began all over again.

To Draco’s immense surprise, Neville appeared at his elbow, having disappeared without notice, holding three Butterbeers. He handed one each to Draco and Parvati and led the way to an empty corner, opening his bottle as he walked.

Draco was a little unsettled about how easily he was being accepted by his former enemies. Neville and Parvati seemed to have no trouble being nice to him, simply because Ginny said he was okay. They included him in their conversation, even asked his opinion. It was as if the last six years had never happened.

After a while the group began to break up. The students were anxious to get back to their separate common rooms before curfew so they didn’t get a detention.

Draco sighed in relief and said a short good-bye to Neville and Parvati as the room emptied and made his way out. On his way to the dungeons, he tripped someone to make him feel less Gryffindor.

The person he’d tripped, a girl, had long red hair. Draco cursed under his breath and helped her up. A Hufflepuff, he realized. Susan Bones, if he remembered correctly. “Sorry,” he mumbled before practically running away.

For Merlin’s sake! One girl and he found himself suddenly nice and helpful! What was the matter with him! Couldn’t he act like a Slytherin anymore without feeling guilty?

And now, of course, she wasn’t even coming back to school. That should have made it easier for him to slip back into his old habits. And yet, one simple reminder of her… It wasn’t right!

Draco swept through the Slytherin common room, oblivious to the mixture of fear, awe, and admiration on the faces of his peers. When he disappeared into his dorm the other students glanced at each other, sharing a common thought: Thank Salazar, he’s back.

---

When Ginny’s D.A. Galleon changed and the urgent message from Neville appeared she knew exactly what it meant. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were back and the war would soon be coming.

For nearly a year the Trio had been gone, doing Merlin only knew what. It had all been this great secret and they hadn’t told anyone, but they were hopeful that their success would bring an end to Voldemort and his destruction. For good this time.

Ginny, Fred, George and the twins' friend, Lee Jordan, all made a mad dash for the school (Ginny had gone to stay with them near the end; strength in numbers and all that), Apparating straight into the Hog’s Head as Neville had instructed. They passed through a tiny tunnel hidden in a painting and eventually came out in the Room of Requirement.

Dean Thomas and Luna had arrived just before and Ginny exchanged a smile with her friend. Luna grinned dreamily and glanced significantly around the room.

Ginny had never seen anything like it. The room was divided into sections by house, banners hung from the walls like miniature common rooms. Slytherin was the only one not represented. There were hammocks in each section and bulging bookshelves along the walls with books varying in subject from Muggle fiction to Hogwarts: A History.

Students crowded around, all talking at once in excitement and curiosity. Bits of conversation could be heard, but not enough to make any sense. Ginny stood between Fred and George, who were busy cracking jokes, and surveyed the scene. It looked almost the same as a normal D.A. meeting with only one exception.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing together, seeming slightly separate from the rest of the group. They looked so different; grown up and tired. They looked as if they’d lived ten years in their comparatively short time away from home.

Harry looked up as they were coming in and Ginny gave him a smile. Ron and Hermione were standing shoulder to shoulder behind him. They all looked a little surprised.

“Aberforth’s getting a bit annoyed,” said Fred, speaking of Dumbledore’s brother, the owner of the Hog’s Head. He raised his hand in greeting to the other students. “He wants a kip and his bar’s turned into a railway station.”

At that moment, Cho Chang climbed through the tunnel. “I got the message,” she said in a soft voice, holding up her fake Galleon with a dazzling smile at Harry.

“So what’s the plan, Harry?” asked George with the air of one ready for a fight.

“There isn’t one,” said Harry. He looked a little dazed and he had a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Fred chuckled. “Just going to make it up as we go along, are we? My favourite kind.”

Harry turned to Neville. “You’ve got to stop this! What did you call them back for? This is insane.”

A couple of other people spoke up with their two bits, then Ron pulled Harry aside and the Trio had a mini-conference. They spoke in hushed voices for a minute so that even those who were leaning close could not hear.

Then Harry turned back and called, “Okay!” All noise stopped and everyone looked at him expectantly. “There’s something we need to find. Something… something that’ll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It’s here at Hogwarts, but we don’t know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?”

He looked over towards the Ravenclaws and Luna piped up. “Well, there’s her lost diadem. I told you about it, remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy’s trying to duplicate it.”

“Yeah, but the lost diadem,” said Michael Corner, rolling his eyes, “is lost, Luna. That’s sort of the point.”

Ginny tuned out the conversation, contemplating why Harry would be looking for Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem. How could an old, lost accessory be of any use in the fight against Voldemort? Why was it so important that he would come back to Hogwarts looking for it?

Her attention was caught back when Harry swayed slightly and his eyes looked off into middle space, apparently seeing something that was not there. He whispered something to Ron and Hermione, then glanced at Cho, and back to them. “I know it’s not much of a lead, but I’m going to go and look at this statue,” -Ginny wondered what statue he meant- “at least find out what the diadem looks like. Wait for me here and keep, you know… the other one… safe.”

Cho jumped to her feet, ready to volunteer to lead Harry to Ravenclaw Tower, and Ginny burst out, “No, Luna will take Harry, won’t you, Luna?” She may not have still been in love with Harry, but having been for so long, she was protective of him. She remembered the fiasco with Cho and was reluctant to leave Harry in her clutches.

“Oooh, yes, I’d like to,” said Luna happily, and Cho sat down again, looking disappointed.

Harry and Luna left and the room exploded into mayhem. Everyone had a speculation about Harry’s mission. After a while, Ron and Hermione began mumbling to each other again, looking edgy and nervous. They said something about a bathroom and snuck out the door.

The tunnel opened up again and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Fleur climbed out. Molly embraced Ginny and the twins while Arthur explained to Neville that one of the D.A. members had contacted the Order and that the others were on their way.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin arrived. They were closely followed by Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet.

Pandemonium ensued as everyone began telling their version of the story at the same time. Ginny sat quietly in her chair, her thoughts focused on a certain blond Slytherin. Where was he? What had he been doing these past few weeks?

She tried to catch up with her fellow D.A. members, but found her attention slipping. It was a long time before Harry and Luna came back and people were getting restless and agitated.

When they finally appeared Lupin rushed forward and asked, “Harry, what’s happening?”

Harry replied hurriedly. “Voldemort’s on his way, they’re barricading the school… Snape’s run for it… What are you doing here? How did you know?”

Fred explained the chain of events, then George asked loudly, “What’s first, Harry? What’s going on?”

“They’re evacuating the younger kids and everyone’s meeting in the Great Hall to get organized,” Harry said. “We’re fighting.”

Molly pulled Ginny up out of the chair and began pushing her towards the tunnel. “Mum!” Ginny cried.

Molly turned wide, frantic eyes on her daughter. “Come along, dear. That’s it! G-go back to the Hog’s Head, then Apparate home. No matter that you don’t have your license, we’ll just…”

“Mum!” Ginny said again. “I can’t just leave! How could I?”

“You’ll be safe at the Burrow, dear,” Molly went on as if she hadn’t heard. “Well, safer at any rate. Come on, Ginny! Don’t dawdle!”

“Mum!” Ginny exclaimed, yanking her arm backwards to keep from being pulled along. “You can’t expect me to leave. The battle’s about to start! I have to fight!”

“You’re underage!” Molly shouted, ignoring Harry’s approach and still trying to get Ginny into the passage. “I won’t permit it! The boys, yes, but you, you’ve got to go home!”

“I won’t!” Ginny cried, finally getting her arm free. “I’m in Dumbledore’s Army…”

“A teenager’s gang!” Molly cut in.

“A teenager’s gang that’s about to take him on, which no one else has dared to do!” said Fred, unexpectedly coming to Ginny’s defense.

“She’s sixteen!” Molly shouted. “She’s not old enough! What you two were thinking, bringing her with you…”

Fred and George looked sheepish while Bill said, “Mum’s right, Ginny. You can’t do this. Everyone underage will have to leave, it’s only right.”

“I can’t go home!” Ginny said forcefully, feeling tears spring to her eyes. “My whole family’s here, I can’t stand waiting there alone and not knowing and…” She turned to look at Harry, hoping he would understand.

He shook his head and she turned away angrily. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll say good-bye now, then and…”

She was cut off by a loud thump as someone tumbled out of the tunnel and fell over. He used a chair to pull himself up and looked about the room, his horn-rimmed glasses half off his nose. “Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I… I…”

The entire Weasley family stared in shock at Percy, who trailed off and stared back. After a long moment of uncomfortable silence, Fleur turned to Lupin and asked desperately, “So… ‘ow eez leetle Teddy?”

Lupin looked startled before replying loudly, “I… oh yes… he’s fine! Yes, Tonks is with him… at her mother’s… Here, I’ve got a picture!”

Suddenly Percy yelled, “I was a fool! I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a… a…”

“Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron,” Fred supplied.

Percy gulped. “Yes, I was!”

“Well, you can’t say fairer than that,” Fred said, holding out his hand to Percy.

Molly burst into tears. She ran forward and pushed Fred aside to pull Percy into a strangling hug while he patted her on the back, his eyes on Arthur. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he said.

Arthur blinked quickly and hurried to wrap Percy in a hug of his own.

As the family caught up, Ginny sneaked forward, trying to get up the stairs to leave the room. If she could make it out she could find Draco before the battle started. They could talk about their argument and…

“Ginny!” Molly yelled. She’d spotted her just as she was about to make it out. Ginny came back down the stairs she had managed and folded her arms as she leaned against the wall grumpily.

“Molly, how about this,” said Lupin. “Why doesn’t Ginny stay here, then at least she’ll be on the scene and know what’s going on, but she won’t be in the middle of the fighting?”

“That’s a good idea,” Arthur said firmly, cutting off both Ginny’s and Molly’s protests. “Ginny, you stay in this room, you hear me?”

She wanted to argue so badly. She wasn’t a child, after all. Well, technically she was, but really, in a war one grows up so much more quickly than normal. But at her father’s stern look, Ginny nodded her head.

The others started preparing to leave and Ginny watched them glumly. She vaguely heard Harry ask where Ron and Hermione were and Arthur mumble something.

“They said something about a bathroom,” she said, “not long after you left.”

“A bathroom?” Harry asked. Then he walked away without another word.

Ginny plopped down on one of the hammocks beneath the Hufflepuff banner and ignored the rest of the room.

Before she knew it, she was alone. She could hear people running around frantically, and shouts, but she couldn’t tell what was going on. This was almost worse than not being here at all.

A couple minutes later, the door opened and a crowd of students jostled each other to try to get in ahead of the others. Everyone who was underage and all the Slytherins were lining up to go through the tunnel into the Hog’s Head.

Ginny stood up and began searching for a familiar shock of white-blond hair. She finally spotted him, just as he was being pushed into the tunnel. “Draco!”

He turned around and his wide grey eyes locked with hers. He opened his mouth, but someone shoved him, anxious to make their own way through. He stumbled out of sight as more people climbed in after him.

It took almost half an hour to get all the students through. Several fights broke out over who would get to go first, but finally it was over, quiet ringing out once again. Ginny sat back on the hammock and waited. She kind of hoped that Draco would come back through.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open again. Ginny jumped up and ran forward, but it was only Tonks. Her face fell, but she quickly caught herself and smiled. “Tonks!” she exclaimed.

Tonks smiled back a bit shakily. “Where is everyone?” she asked, quickly scanning the empty room.

“They’ve all gone to fight,” Ginny said, her own gaze drifting up to the door leading to the school. “They told me to… to wait for you,” she finished in a rush. “Lupin suspected you’d come.”

Tonks looked at her suspiciously, but then the door opened again. Once more Ginny looked up in anticipation, only to come face to face with an old woman who was wearing a moth-eaten hat with a vulture atop it. She could only be Neville’s grandmother.

“Well, hello there,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “You must be Ginny Weasley.” She stuck out her hand and Ginny took it, mildly startled. “Neville’s told me so much about all of his friends, I’d know you anywhere.”

She turned and shook Tonks’ hand as well. “Come on then. We don’t want to miss this.” Waving her wand at the tunnel, the old woman made her way up the stairs. Ginny and Tonks shrugged at each other and followed.

They’d just reached the bottom step when Harry, Ron, and Hermione came flying down. “Ah, Potter,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “You can tell us what’s going on.”

“Is everyone okay?” Ginny and Tonks asked at the same time.

“As far as we know,” Harry replied. “Are there still people in the passage to the Hog’s Head?”

“I was the last to come through,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “I sealed it…”

Ginny’s heart dropped, and she didn’t hear the rest. Sealed it. That meant that no one could use it anymore. Draco wouldn’t be coming back to the school. She came back to the present as Mrs. Longbottom ran, actually ran, out the door.

Harry turned to Tonks and said, “I thought you were supposed to be with Teddy at your mother’s?”

“I couldn’t stand not knowing…” she replied with a look that echoed how Ginny felt. “She’ll look after him. Have you seen Remus?”

“He was planning to lead a group of fighters into the grounds…” Tonks was gone before Harry could finish.

He looked at Ginny and said, “Ginny, I’m sorry, but we need you to leave too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in.”

Ginny nearly laughed with relief as she hurried off toward the battle. Harry shouted after her, “And then you can come back in! You’ve got to come back in!"

As if, Ginny thought. She got to the entrance hall, stopping now and again to throw a curse out of a window at the advancing Death Eaters, and skidded to a stop.

People were running everywhere, trying to get organized. There were sounds of fighting from outside, and from up the stairs Ginny could hear several voices yelling spells. The battle had begun.

The enormous front doors opened and the Death Eaters charged into the entrance hall, eliciting screams from those standing nearby. Ginny stunned the first two while people came from all directions to meet the invaders. She was soon caught up in a duel with one of the masked figures.

Someone managed to catch the doors on fire so the Death Eaters had to jump through, two or three at a time. This made it a little easier to fight them, as they couldn’t all charge at the same time. That is until one of them got smart and put out the fire.

Death Eaters poured through the opening faster than the Hogwarts fighters could fire spells. Ginny found herself face to face with two Death Eaters now, both shooting at her with surprising speed. She was only just able to deflect the curses as she was forced slowly backwards.

Suddenly someone slammed into her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. At the same time, someone screamed the killing curse and another shouted a stunner. Whoever had hit Ginny collapsed on top of her, crushing her to the stone floor.

She twisted desperately, trying to get out. She caught a glimpse of pale blond hair and a scream caught in her throat. When she finally managed to sit up, her worst fear was confirmed. Draco lay there limply, half in her lap.

Ginny dragged him behind a statue, blocking a spell as she went, gasping for air. “No, no, no!” she said pleadingly. “Merlin, please no!”

Praying harder than ever that he’d only been hit with the stunner and not, God forbid, Avada Kedavra, Ginny held her wand shakily over his head and stammered, “E-enervate!”

Draco’s eyes flew open and Ginny collapsed onto his chest, sobbing hysterically, “Oh, thank you! Thank you! He pulled himself up and wrapped his arms tightly around her, one hand tangling in her hair. He planted a long kiss on top of her head and whispered,” I love you, Gin.”

“I love you, too,” Ginny said, sniffling. “And I’m sorry we fought.”

“Me too.”

They kissed fiercely, almost desperately, and sat there for another minute, unwilling to let go to return to the fight, until a misfired spell caused the statue to crumble around them. As if it was a cue they’d both been waiting for, they jumped up, firing spells, hand in hand.

Eventually they were torn apart by the crush of fighting students, teachers, and Order members. Ginny engaged with three Death Eaters, Luna by her side. She looked around when she could, searching for a glimpse of Draco.

That’s when she saw a Death Eater shoot a spell into the crowd and slink down a hallway. Ginny stunned one of her opponents and took off after him.

---

Draco was still awake when Professor Slughorn came to get all the Slytherins. When he announced that the school was going to be attacked, a general frenzy ensued. The students followed their Head of House to the Great Hall where McGonagall and Potter, who’d apparently returned, were talking.

When all of the houses had arrived and sat at their tables, McGonagall stood up and began a speech. Something about the school being threatened and younger students being evacuated. Draco wasn’t really paying attention; too busy noticing the youngest Weasley’s continued absence.

Harry stood up to say something as well. Then everyone in the Hall froze as a voice rang from nowhere. Voldemort. Draco recognized it at once. His was not a voice easily forgotten. He demanded that Potter be turned over to him to prevent an attack that would surely end in a disaster for Hogwarts.

For a couple of seconds after the voice faded away the silence in the school was nearly tangible. Then Pansy jumped up out of her seat and screamed, “But he’s there! Potter’s there. Someone grab him!”

Immediately, the entire Gryffindor table, followed by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, stood facing the Slytherins, wands drawn. Potter stood there, gaping like an idiot, as if he had no idea what to do.

“Thank you, Miss Parkinson,” McGonagall said. “Please follow your Head of House. The rest of the Slytherins may go as well.”

The whole table stood up and began to file out. Draco remained seated until he saw Longbottom, whom he hadn’t seen in weeks, nod his head at him, then incline it towards the door.

Draco nodded in return, understanding that his staying behind would be taken the wrong way and cause more trouble. Then he got up and followed his housemates. He nodded at the other D.A. members on his way out, hoping they would recognize that he meant it as a good luck wish.

He spotted Luna Lovegood standing with the other Ravenclaws and smiled at her. He remembered that she’d been one of Ginny’s friends; the one arrested over Christmas break. And wouldn’t you know it, he was acting Gryffindor again because of Ginny’s influence!

Younger students from other houses followed the Slytherins. McGonagall had to go around and shunt off the Gryffindors who tried to stay. They all hurried up the stairs, many people pushing to try to get to the front and escape ahead of the others.

Draco was mildly surprised when they were led to the Room of Requirement. Someone opened it, he couldn’t see who from his place in the crowd, and people began piling in.

On the opposite side of the room, which looked very different from D.A. meetings, stood a tunnel. Slughorn stood on one side of the opening and Professor Vector on the other. They ushered students through, trying to keep order. It was still chaos, however, as everyone wanted to be first and didn’t seem to care how they got there.

Draco’s turn came up and he stepped into the tunnel. At that moment, someone called his name. He whipped his head around, searching the room. And there was Ginny. He opened his mouth to shout back, not really sure what he would have said, but an impatient student shoved him.

He tried for several minutes to fight the tide of students back into the room, but for every step he gained he was pushed back two. Eventually he was carried out into a room he recognized as the Hog’s Head, a pub in Hogsmeade village. He continued trying to get back in, but people were too frantic coming out for him to make any headway.

Crabbe and Goyle came up behind him. They gripped one shoulder each and pulled him aside. “Goyle had an idea,” Crabbe whispered hoarsely.

Draco spun around to face the boys, very surprised. “Well?” he demanded.

Goyle pulled himself up proudly and explained in a very superior voice, “See, we’ve learned how to do Diss’lusionment Charms. We do ‘em now, and when everyone’s out, we sneak back in, find Potter, and take ‘im to the Dark Lord.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. Getting back into the school was exactly what he wanted. Though not necessarily to get Potter, and definitely not to aid Voldemort. But if he went along with Goyle’s plan he could get what he wanted and no one would be the wiser.

Nodding once, Draco replied, “Good. Goyle, I never knew you had it in you. Perhaps you’ll make it yet.”

They waited until no one was looking, then cast the charms on each other. Crabbe’s was a little sloppy, but he did better on his second try. They stayed off to the side where they couldn’t be bumped and therefore given away.

Half an hour later, the last group of students Disapparated. It took a little longer than normal because most of them had to go by side-along and there weren’t very many who had licenses and could take them. The three boys stepped toward the tunnel, but someone Apparated suddenly, nearly landing on top of them.

It turned out to be Draco’s cousin and clumsy Order member, Nymphadora Tonks. Without a word, she dived into the tunnel and ran, tripping and tumbling, all the way to the school. Trying not to laugh, Draco followed.

When he climbed out into the Room of Requirement, he saw Tonks talking worriedly to Ginny. Draco, with Crabbe and Goyle on his heels, (literally, since they were clumsy even when they could see him) stepped closer to listen.

It was a good thing they did, for, not five seconds later, someone else came through the door. It was an old witch who was wearing an ugly old hat that Draco remembered Longbottom’s boggart wearing back in third year.

She shook Ginny’s hand saying, “You must be Ginny Weasley. Neville’s told me so much about all his friends, I’d know you anywhere.”

She turned bustle-y to Tonks, shaking her hand, too. “Come on then,” she said. “We don’t want to miss this.” Then she waved her wand at the tunnel and took off.

Draco heard a low crash and was glad they’d come in when they had, otherwise they would have been stuck in the Hog’s Head, or worse, the tunnel itself. He followed Ginny and Tonks as they went after the old witch.

The bloody hero trio came barging down the steps then. Draco got there just as the old witch was saying that she’d sealed the tunnel. Ginny stiffened and her face fell. He focused on her and blocked out the others, so it surprised him when she ran off and Potter yelled, “And then you can come back in! You’ve got to come back in!”

The trio went back up the stairs, and Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle followed. They were just in time to see Ginny dart down the staircase at the end of the corridor, shooting a curse as she went. Draco went after her without a word to the other two. As he ran he took off his Disillusionment Charm.

When he got to the Entrance Hall, the huge front doors had been thrown open and Death Eaters were pouring in. Draco fired an Incendio spell at the door to slow their progress. Thankfully it worked… for a while.

He searched the crowd for Ginny. When he finally spotted her, she was fiercely blocking spells from two Death Eaters at a time. She was being pushed back step by step, but seemed to be doing pretty well.

Then Draco saw a third Death Eater point his wand at her. Ginny was so focused on her battle that she didn’t notice. Draco gave a wild cry and jumped forward, knocking her to the ground.

He had just enough time to hope she was okay before he was hit by a spell. The world slipped into darkness and all sound faded away. He was vaguely aware of things happening around him, but none of his senses seemed to be functioning.

Next thing Draco knew, he was behind a statue in a corner. A warm tingle spread through him and he was able to open his eyes. Ginny, eyes wide and tear tracks down her cheeks, threw herself on top of him, sobbing. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!” she cried.

Draco lifted himself carefully to a sitting position so that he could wrap his arms around her. There was so much to say that he couldn’t think where to start. He kissed the top of her head while he sorted his thoughts. “I love you, Gin,” he mumbled.

“I love you, too,” Ginny replied, sniffling. Her voice trembled and she squeezed him tighter. “And I’m sorry we fought.”

“Me too.” Then he did the best thing he could think of. The thing he’d wanted to do since she left him that night in the kitchens seemingly an age ago. He kissed her. It was a sweet kiss that said everything they couldn’t find words for.

They didn’t break apart until the statue crumbled from a stray spell. At that point they jumped up and began firing spells. They stayed together as long as they could, unwilling to be separated so soon, but it was inevitable.

Draco kept his eyes peeled for her as he fought his way through Death Eater ranks. The next he saw of her, she was chasing a lone Death Eater into a deserted corridor. The moment of distraction allowed his opponent to fire a spell that only narrowly missed him, hitting the wall instead.

He stunned the masked figure as chunks of stone rained down on his head, then ran after the redhead.



~///~



Ginny darted through the crumbling archway and glanced around for the Death Eater. Where had he gone? The hallway seemed completely deserted. She took a couple steps further, growing a little nervous.

Suddenly someone leaped at her from behind, wrenching her wand arm behind her back and slamming her into the wall. Her other arm was pinned between the wall and her chest and no amount of struggling was enough to free it.

Her left shoulder and cheek took most of the impact, leaving both with a very numb feeling. She tried kicking the Death Eater with her heels, but he easily avoided her and she only succeeded in scraping her knees on the wall.

The Death Eater twisted her arm behind her back and she clenched her teeth together to keep herself from crying out. She could feel his wand pressing into her ribs and his hot breath on her neck.

“I recognize you,” he hissed in her ear. “You’re the little Weasley girl. Your blood-traitor father’s caused me a bit of grief. Wouldn’t it be just fitting if I killed his little girl?” He laughed a hoarse, manic chuckle and gripped her arm tighter. “Prepare to say good night!”

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. She thought of her parents and her brothers, who were still out there fighting, and prayed that they would be okay. Then she thought of Draco and felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest.

She didn’t even get to say good-bye. She wouldn’t ever see him again. Never get to hear his voice, or kiss him, or look into his eyes. She’d never get to tell him just how much she loved him.

Unbidden, a tear slipped down her cheek. The Death Eater saw it and chuckled again. “That’s right, girlie. It’s all over.” He shifted his wand to her chin. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“Let her go!” a very familiar voice called from the entryway. Draco! Ginny tried to twist around to see him, but she was pressed too tightly to the wall.

The Death Eater looked up at the newcomer and smacked his lips together. “Well, Mr. Malfoy. Good to see you ‘round again. But, pray tell, why should I let her go?”

Draco’s answer was to hit the man with a Full Body-Bind. His arms and legs snapped straight and he fell face first to the floor.

Ginny immediately whipped around and jumped away from him. She looked up at Draco shakily. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He looked so handsome. Even with dirt smeared across his face and his robes torn, little streaks of blood coming from under his hair. She stood there for a minute, just glad to be able to see him again. More tears began to fall from her eyes as she realized just how lucky she was.

“Oh, Ginny,” Draco said softly. Then he swayed and had to lean against the archway.

“Draco!” Ginny cried, rushing toward him. That’s when she noticed that the blood wasn’t just streaks, but a steady flow coming from several cuts all over the top, back, and one side of his head. “Holy Merlin!”

Draco put his hand on Ginny’s cheek and rasped, “I’m so glad I made it in time.” He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb as his eyes slid shut.

Ginny clutched his robes with one hand and with the other brushed his hair aside as gently as she could. The cuts weren’t very deep, she noticed, and would heal with little trouble, but there were a lot of them, and some of them were surrounded by purplish bruises. “What happened to you?” she asked.

He didn’t get a chance to answer, because from the battle still going on behind them a spell flew up and hit the top of the arch. Draco tried to curl himself around Ginny as the stone began to crumble, but she pushed him to the ground, flattening herself on top of him.

“Ginny!” he cried frantically as she threw on arm over his head and the other over her own. Their wands went flying as bits of stone crashed around them.

Trying not to scream, Ginny held Draco down. The archway collapsed, hitting both of them with broken pieces of rock.

It seemed to be falling in slow motion, as thoughts were flying through her head at an amazing rate. He’d saved her life twice tonight, and now it was her chance to save his.

Once again she thought of her family. She thought of her friends and remembered their time together. She hoped that everyone she loved would make it through this, and that maybe even, by some miracle, so would she.

The dust got into her eyes and mouth and she was choking. She heard Draco doing the same beneath her and pulled herself tighter against him. He’d put his arms around her and was trying to shield her back.

Ginny leaned in and pressed her lips against his ear. “I love… you,” she gasped brokenly. Pieces of rock were hitting her arms and legs and she knew they were hitting him too. She wished she could protect him better.

The whole ordeal only lasted about six seconds, but it felt like hours. She heard Draco trying to say something through the dust, but as she strained to hear, a chunk of stone caught her behind the ear and everything went black.

---

The first thing Draco became aware of was the pressure. Pressure pushing down on top of him and pressure inside his chest. He coughed and tasted dirt in his mouth.

The second thing he noticed was the pain. His head was absolutely pounding, his arms and legs ached, and his back was sore. He felt like he’d been run over by a heard of rampaging centaurs.

The next thing he noticed was the extreme lack of sound. Last thing he remembered was a lot of crashing and banging and a fair bit of yelling. But now he could hardly hear anything.

Finally he noticed that something soft was tickling his face. It smelled like citrus and vanilla. He opened his eyes and saw red. The red shifted and moved in a slight breeze and he caught a glimpse of a blackened, broken stone ceiling.

His left arm was pinned by whatever was on top of him and he reached up with the other one to push it off. He felt something soft and warm and realized that it was a person. Ginny!

Draco gasped, choking on dirt and Ginny’s hair, as everything came back to him. He’d followed her when she went running after a Death Eater to find her pinned to a wall by said Death Eater. He’d been a little dizzy, but he remembered cursing the guy and then Ginny running over to him.

The rest got even more fuzzy. A loud crash right above his head; he remembered that. He’d tried to hold onto Ginny, but found himself on the floor instead. He must have passed out soon after that.

He could distinctly recall her voice in his ear as she wrapped herself around him. What was it she’d said? Draco racked his brain for a minute before it came to him. “I love… you.” She’d been coughing and choking as she said it, so it wasn’t terribly clear, but that was it.

Heart pounding in his ears, Draco lifted his hand and smoothed her hair back. Her face was turned away from him and she hadn’t moved the entire time he’d been thinking. Cautiously, he pressed his fingers to her neck and was relieved to feel a pulse.

Draco slid his hand down her back, knocking away chunks of stone as he went. One of her arms was still wrapped around his head, so he gently pulled it back down to her side. After pushing away some of the rocks he was able to prop himself up slightly. He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders to keep her from slipping off his chest and began to examine the damage. He cried out when he saw the size of the rock that was pinning her legs. It was huge!

Ginny groaned softly and her head lolled against his neck. Draco lowered himself back to the floor so that he could rub her back. He buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply, biting down on his lip.

After a minute he reached around to free his other arm. He fumbled around a bit, and discovered that it wasn’t just Ginny pinning him. One of the columns that had adorned the sides of the arched entryway to the corridor had come down and now lay across his left hand.

Draco wondered vaguely why it didn’t hurt very much, but then he realized that it was numb, so of course he wouldn’t really feel pain. The logical part of his brain, which seemed to be functioning on its own, completely independent of him and the situation, reasoned that he must have been there for a while.

He looked around for his wand and spotted it about five feet away, right where the far wall met the floor. Ginny’s was in the opposite direction, resting just next to the petrified Death Eater. Great. He’d just have to get them out of here without magic.

Bracing himself, and trying not to jostle Ginny, Draco pushed against the column and pulled on his trapped hand. His first attempt was short-lived, as flashes of pain surged through his left arm. But after about six or seven more tries, he was free.

Draco clutched his hand close and waited for the pain to subside. As he was laying there, he heard voices. Someone was yelling. Two people? They sounded familiar.

They came closer and Draco suddenly recognized them. They were calling for him. “In here!” he yelled back, his voice grinding through his dry throat. “Mother! Father! I’m in here!”

Two sets of footsteps pounded as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy hurried towards their son’s voice. “Draco!” Narcissa exclaimed, almost before they’d come through what was left of the archway. Draco realized that the breeze that had moved Ginny’s hair earlier was coming from several exterior walls that had broken.

When Lucius saw his son lying on the ground, one hand curled at his side, the other clutching a red-headed witch to his chest, he pulled up short. “Sweet Salazar,” he said. “What happened here?”

Draco tightened his arm around Ginny’s shoulders reflexively. “The wall collapsed. We’re trapped.”

Narcissa immediately jumped forward and reached out. Draco flinched and lifted his injured hand. “Careful,” he said, coughing. “She’s unconscious and I don’t know how badly she’s hurt.”

At that moment, Ginny moaned again, louder this time. Draco stiffened, one hand going to her head, the other to her back. She tucked her chin slightly, then threw her head back and cried out, her eyes wide.

“Ginny,” Draco said softly, curling his fingers into her hair. “Ginny, it’s all right.”

Her response was to dig her fingers into his shoulder and burrow her face into his neck. “My leg!” she gasped, her voice rough and cracked.

Narcissa’s eyes darted down to the large rock that had Ginny pinned to the floor. Lucius followed her gaze. Draco didn’t need to look; he already knew.

“I can’t reach my wand,” he said. “I can’t get it off of her without it.”

Narcissa pulled out her own wand and shakily pointed it at the chunk of stone. She muttered, “Wingardium Leviosa,” and the stone lifted a couple of millimeters before settling right back where it had started.

Ginny cried out again and Draco exclaimed, “Mother! Oh, Ginny! Are you all right?” He slipped his good hand to her neck and held her closer.

She nodded tightly and let out a shaky breath. Draco glanced at each of his parents and said, “Maybe if you work together?”

Lucius glanced up at the ceiling, then over at the wall. “The Dark Lord took my wand to use against Potter and it broke,” he explained.

Draco looked to where his wand lay against the wall. “You can use mine,” he offered. “Please.” He couldn’t quite keep the note of desperate pleading out of his voice.

Finally locking eyes with his son, Lucius nodded. He retrieved the wand and stood next to his wife. Together they said the spell and, a moment later, Ginny was free.

She relaxed against him so minutely that he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been watching for it. Draco sat up slowly, supporting her the entire way, and cupped her cheek in his good hand.

Ginny smiled up at him and put her small hand over his. “How’s your head?” she asked. Her eyes were carefully guarded and Draco knew she was trying to hide her pain from him.

“I’m fine,” he said with a smirk. “And I would ask how your leg feels, but I know you too well.”

Ginny wrinkled her nose at him, then turned to his parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,” she said. “Thank you for your help.” Her voice only shook the slightest bit.

The Malfoys nodded as Draco got to his feet. It was a little awkward holding Ginny with his hand in its current state, but in that they were too much alike. He just shifted her so that her weight was supported on his shoulder instead.

“Draco, you don’t need to carry me,” she said in protest. But her hand slipped up to hold onto his other shoulder anyway.

Narcissa led them out of the corridor after retrieving Ginny’s wand for her, telling them that everyone had gathered in the Great Hall after Potter had defeated Voldemort.

“It’s over?” Ginny asked. “Voldemort’s dead?”

Narcissa nodded, smiling back at her husband sadly. Lucius was following behind, silent and brooding.

Draco was only half-listening to the conversation. His attention was focused mainly on Ginny and walking without dropping her. They had to take the long way through the school because of several obstacles in the shape of crumbled statues and walls and even large holes in the floors.

Before long, he grew dizzy and stumbled, leaning against a wall for support. Ginny’s head popped up, her eyes full of concern. “Draco, I can walk,” she said, already pushing herself out of his arms.

Draco reluctantly lowered her to the floor. She gave him a reassuring smile as she balanced on her left leg. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Lucius cleared his throat and she stepped away, her leg immediately buckling beneath her.

Draco caught her before she collapsed and pulled her against him. Her face was contorted in pain, but she quickly smoothed it out and smiled at him. “I’m all right,” she said.

Ginny tried to walk away again, only to collapse once more. Draco lifted her off her feet and gave her a gentle shake. “Stop it,” he said. “Stop being so stubborn. You’re not all right.”

“But, Draco…” she began, only to have Lucius cut her off.

“Here,” he said commandingly. “You’re wasting time with this arguing. I’ll carry the girl and let’s keep moving.”

Draco tightened his hold on Ginny protectively. “You, Father?” He looked down at Ginny to find her looking up at Lucius. She didn’t look scared, or even nervous, but merely cautious.

After a second, she nodded and squeezed Draco’s shoulder. Once again, Draco reluctantly released her. Lucius took her out of his arms and motioned for Narcissa to continue. The group moved forward again, Draco wondering what had gotten into his father.

As if he’d heard his thoughts, Lucius said, “The Dark Lord was not able to follow through on his promises. I’ve decided that it might be a good time to change my loyalties. Losing has never appealed to me.”

Ginny gravely said, “You do realize, I hope, that that won’t be enough to save you from Azkaban. You were, after all, a major part of this war until a short time ago.”

Lucius nodded. “I do know that,” he replied. “But I hope that recent events will be taken into consideration.”

Ever the self-preservationist, that man. Draco shook his head as he realized, had that been him, he would have done the same. Thankfully he’d taken his stand sooner and actually joined the fight against Voldemort.

By this time they had made it to the Great Hall. Draco suddenly realized that Ginny’s family had no idea that they were seeing each other and would probably not be too happy to see her come in with his family. He started to step away, to give an impression of indifference, but Ginny reached out and grabbed his hand. She tugged him closer and smiled, one eyebrow raised; whether in question or challenge was not clear. Either way, Draco nodded.

As expected, when the unusual group came through the doorway, every eye was on them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing off to one side, their arms clutched around each other. They remained where they were, their expressions showing shock and disbelief.

True to his nature, Ron broke from the group first. He charged up to the Malfoys, his eyes red and flashing, hands clenched into fists, and demanded, “What in Merlin’s name are you sorry lot doing with my sister?”

Potter and Granger were two steps behind him. Potter looked like he was ready to shove Draco’s wand down his throat. Granger, though still with a dark look for the Malfoys, put a restraining hand on each boys’ shoulder.

Narcissa quietly said, “She was hurt. Her leg was trapped under a piece of the ceiling that had fallen. We helped her and brought her here. We mean no harm.”

Ron’s eyes darted from one person to the next while Potter took a step forwards and stretched out his arms. “Thanks,” he said stiffly. “We’ll take her from here.”

Ginny squeezed Draco’s hand, drawing the trio’s eyes to their intertwined fingers, and shook her head. “That’s okay, guys,” she said. “I’m fine. In fact, how can I help?”

Draco whipped his head around to look at her. “But, Gin. Your leg,” he cautioned. He almost laughed at the trio’s reactions to his familiarity. Granger’s eyes widened, Weasley’s jaw hit the floor, and Potter’s face turned purple.

“I’ll get Madam Pomfrey to put a splint on it,” Ginny said. “It’ll be fine for a while. I want to help with the wounded ones.”

“I can do a splint,” Hermione offered. “Madam Pomfrey is busy with other things.”

Draco held up his hand as she stepped closer. “You, Granger?” he asked. “You’re not a mediwitch. You shouldn’t be trying that sort of thing. What if you made a mistake? What if you hurt her?”

The Weasel King’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair. “Since when do you care if something happens to my sister?”

“First of all, Weasley,” Draco drawled, “I know whose sister she is, there is no need to yell. Second…” Here he paused to bring Ginny’s hand to his chest. “I’ve cared for a little while now.”

Ron opened and closed his mouth angrily for several minutes, but Harry spoke right away. “What?” he yelled. “Ginny, you’re with him now? What about me… what about us? I thought you and I…”

Ginny looked at the floor, then back up to meet Harry’s gaze. “We broke up, Harry,” she reminded him. Hermione cast the charm to splint her leg while she spoke. “I’m sorry if you’re upset, but… I moved on. I love him.”

Harry shook his head slowly and joined Ron in stunned silence.

Lucius lowered Ginny to the ground and she tested her weight on her leg, leaning slightly into Draco’s side. The elder Malfoy kept one hand on her elbow, surprising everyone, until she was steady. She nodded and said, “Thanks, Hermione. And Mr. Malfoy.”

“Er… Gin,” Ron said, finally managing to speak. “There’s… there’s something… you need to know. You should come with us.” Harry and Hermione instantly became serious when he said this.

Ginny looked between her brother and his friends, taking in there expressions. “Okay,” she said. Then she turned to Draco. “I’ll be right back.”

He nodded and turned to follow his parents as Ginny left with Ron. The Malfoys kept their heads down as they walked past the staring groups of fighters. They settled themselves in the farthest corner of the room and tried to ignore the hostile feeling in the air.

The three exchanged several looks, but no one spoke. It soon became apparent just how distant they had become. Lucius had always been focused on serving the Dark Lord and hadn’t had any time for his family. Narcissa had spent her days doing… whatever it was she did with her time, usually away from home. Draco had been mainly just trying to keep his head above water.

They hadn’t actually sat down together in years. Draco realized that he didn’t actually know his parents; what they were like. Well, aside from Lucius having always been absolutely horrid and Narcissa being distant. They weren’t your average close-knit, or even remotely civil, family. More like a group of people who just happened to live in the same house and share a name.

Several more minutes and awkward looks later, Narcissa turned to Draco and asked, “How is your hand? You’re still favouring it a bit.”

It was true, Draco realized. Even just sitting there doing nothing he held his left hand close to his side, even though it was his primary hand, and relied on his right. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing it.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, it doesn’t hurt. But then, I don’t actually feel it at all.”

“Probably broken,” Lucius muttered. “What were you and the Weasley girl doing in there together?” His voice held a measure of contempt.

Draco was looking everywhere except at his father. He cleared his throat and replied, “When the Death Eaters came in she and I were fighting them. One of them managed to lure her into that hallway.

“I followed them and petrified him before he could kill her. Then… I think it was a misfired spell… I don’t know… But the ceiling collapsed. She jumped on top of me. And then next thing I knew I was waking up.”

Draco paused, looking back and forth between his parents. “If you hadn’t come along, we’d probably still be there.” Then he laughed. “If the other Weasleys had found us I would have been severely hexed several times.”

Narcissa smiled weakly while Lucius smoothed his hands over his robes. “So you were against the Dark Lord, then,” Lucius said.

Draco nodded. “I’m sorry I deceived you, Father,” he said. “I was against him the entire time. The spells I passed to you were false. I went to McGonagall as soon as I got my assignment and she and the other teachers provided me with fakes.”

“Well, then you are in a better position than I,” Lucius replied. He looked at his son sadly. “I am glad you, at least, had the foresight to choose the winning side.”

Draco was about to reply that it wasn’t about winning, but about fighting the evil that was Voldemort, but Narcissa shook her head and changed the subject. She asked Draco if he’d like her to mend his hand. When he nodded she pointed her wand and muttered a spell. Draco felt a warm tingling, then a sharp pain. When it passed, his hand was no longer numb.

He flexed his fingers and smiled. “Thanks, Mum,” he said. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Narcissa’s eyes filled with tears as she touched the spot. “You called me Mum,” she said in a watery voice. “You haven’t called me Mum since you were five years old.”

“I know,” Draco replied. “There are a lot of things I haven’t done that I probably should have.” They exchanged smiles, then lapsed into a more comfortable silence than the last.

---

Ginny followed Ron, Harry, and Hermione back over to her family, wondering why everyone looked so forlorn. A feeling of dread began in the pit of her stomach and, with every step, stretched into other parts of her body. By the time she reached her mother’s side, her legs were as heavy as lead.

Arthur had on arm around his wife’s shoulders and, with the other, reached out to hug Ginny. Percy stood off to one side, his hands in his pockets, looking both guilty and angry. He didn’t look up when Ginny arrived and she wondered vaguely if it had something to do with him.

Charlie and Bill stood next to him, the looks on their faces ones of disbelief and horror. Bill had his arms around Fleur, who had buried her face in his chest. Charlie seemed to not know what to do with himself as he stared at something behind Ginny’s back.

Ginny looked around and saw George sitting in a chair against the wall, his head buried in his hands. His shoulders were shaking slightly, but he was completely silent; almost eerily silent. He would usually be cracking a joke with his twin.

She searched the nearby crowd for Fred’s face, the dread she was feeling quickly making her whole head feel numb. When she didn’t see him, she slowly turned to Molly. “Where’s Fred?” she asked, her voice shaking uncontrollably so that even just those two words were difficult to understand.

A sob burst out of Molly’s and George’s lips simultaneously. Arthur waved a hand towards the group of bodies against the wall, then returned to hugging his wife with his mouth pressed closed tightly.

Ginny allowed her eyes to drift to the side and land on the familiar red head of her brother. His face was pale and his eyes blank. His lips were slightly parted in the remnants of his signature smile.

Her heart, which had stopped beating somewhere along the line, dropped to her feet. No. It couldn’t be. Not Fred. Any second she was going to wake up, still trapped under a ceiling in a drafty corridor, and it was all going to be a dream.

It sure seemed surreal enough. That couldn’t be her hand reaching to stroke the beloved cheek. His skin wasn’t really that cold. Fred had always been warm and lively. In a minute he was going to sit up and laugh. And then she’d kill him herself, because this wasn’t a very funny joke.

Something wet fell onto her hand, followed by hundreds of the same. It took Ginny a moment to realize she was crying. She lifted Fred’s limp hand and brought it to her lips.

Molly dropped to the floor by Fred’s legs and George knelt by his head. They were both crying openly now, great gasping sobs that instantly made everyone else around want to cry with them.

Molly kept mumbling, “My boy. My son.” Arthur was still trying to comfort her, but he himself was visibly torn up.

The look on George’s face alone was enough to break the hardest of hearts. He’d lost his brother, his best friend, business partner, and other half. Never again would it be ‘Fred and George’ or ‘the twins’. He looked absolutely lost as he stared into his brother’s face.

Charlie, Bill, and Ron were still trying to appear strong, but Weasleys had never been good at concealing their emotions. All of them looked strained as they resolutely held back tears.

Percy kept making little moaning noises and occasionally wringing his hands together. His gaze drifted from one family member to another and he gasped, “I’m sorry. Oh, I’m sorry.”

Arthur reached out and pulled him into the circle they’d unconsciously made around Fred. Everyone tried to tell Percy that it wasn’t his fault, but they all seemed incapable of stringing words together into intelligent sentences through their grief.

Harry and Hermione had pulled themselves slightly away from the group, but the instant Ron turned his red eyes on her, Hermione jumped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He clung to her for dear life and buried his face in her bushy hair

Ginny looked around at her depressed looking family, then back to her brother who, no matter how hard she wished it, would never laugh or joke or come home late for dinner again. “Fred wouldn’t want this,” she said suddenly, surprising everyone. “He wouldn’t want us to sit here and cry. He’d probably make a joke and tell us how ridiculous we all look.”

George choked slightly as he nodded. He ran his fingers lightly over his twin’s tousled head. “She’s right,” he whispered. “Even in… even like this, he’s smiling.”

Molly whimpered and clung tightly to Arthur’s arm. Then she sighed and pushed herself to her. “There are people who are injured,” she said. “One’s who… who still have… a chance. We should help them.”

Ginny stood up after her mother and pushed away her tears. She drew in a shaky breath and the two women made their way towards the section of the Great Hall that had been set aside for the injured.

They passed the Malfoy’s on the way and Draco jumped out of his seat. He took one look at Ginny’s face and grabbed her arms, effectively pulling her to a stop. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “Did someone… one of your brothers…?”

Ginny bit her lip and nodded, willing herself not to burst into tears. “Fred,” she told him in a small voice. “It doesn’t seem real.”

Draco wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he stroked her back with light, comforting touches. “Are you okay?”

Ginny buried her face in his shirt and nodded again, breathing deeply. He still smelled the same as always, but stronger somehow. A slight smoky smell clung to his robes, but it hardly interfered with his own scent.

She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek. “I’m going over there to help out,” she said. “Do you want to come?”

“I’m not going to be able to convince you to take it easy, am I? Not even for a broken leg?”

Ginny shook her head and Draco sighed. “Then I’ll join you,” he said. “That way at least I can make sure you’re not trying to do too much.” He nodded good-bye to his parents and they walked off hand in hand.

The Weasleys gave him half-hearted glares as they approached, but were too caught up in their grief to do anything more. They worked steadily side by side, Malfoy with Weasley, animosity put aside, until the sun had fully risen.

Ginny had started limping again, so when all the injured had received attention, she was infinitely relieved. She sat down on a nearby bench with a heavy sigh, and as the blood returned to her leg she was reminded of just how much it hurt.

Draco sat down next to her and she gave him a shaky smile. His eyes narrowed shrewdly as he asked, “Your leg still hurts, doesn’t it?” Without giving her a chance to protest, he waved to Madam Pomfrey.

The greying mediwitch dragged herself over to them and Draco explained in his most winning voice, “I’m sorry to bother you, Ma’am. I know you’re tired, but Ginny got her leg broken during the battle and it hasn’t been mended yet.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded and pulled out her wand. “Which leg is it?” she asked quietly.

Ginny pulled her robes to the side and held out her right leg, trying not to wince at how stiff it was. Draco squeezed her hand and she leaned against his arm as Madam Pomfrey said the spell. The tingle of bone mending spread through her leg for a minute, then she was fine.

“Who did this splint?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she vanished it. Draco told her and she turned to smile at Hermione. “Well done, Miss Granger.” Hermione blushed and the two left, chatting tiredly.

When they were alone again, Draco sighed. “I need to go back to my parents.”

Ginny nodded, but squeezed his hand tighter. She leaned her head against his shoulder and breathed in his scent. He just smelled so good. And looked even better. After nearly losing him twice in one day, she wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

Draco used his free hand to tip her face up and she saw in his eyes the same look that must have been reflected in her own. The same look worn by most of the survivors of this battle. A combination of sadness, determination, and relief.

Impulsively she moved closer and kissed him, intending it to be a short, sweet, ‘I’m glad you’re okay’ kiss. But the instant their lips met, it seemed like she was being sucked into a vortex. An explosion erupted in her stomach and she clung to his neck to keep from falling off the bench.

His arms went around her waist, crushing her to him. The kiss became desperate; all of the feelings from being separated, along with the horrors of the day, crashing in on them at once.

Draco Malfoy, and his hands caressing the bare skin of her back beneath her robes, and his lips hungrily pressing against hers, and his tongue exploring her mouth, were the only things that mattered in that moment. All the rest of the world just drifted away.

His hand drifted around to her stomach and Ginny released a soft moan. Her fingers clenched in his silky hair and pushed his face closer to hers. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and they gasped together when she touched the skin of his chest.

How long they stayed like that, desperately clinging to each other, she didn’t know. When they finally pulled apart their lips were swollen and red and they were both breathing in short, whimpering bursts.

One of his hands curled around her cheek and his thumb stroked away tears she hadn’t known she’d cried. He leaned down and gently kissed each of her eyelids, then down her cheeks and over her nose before settling on her forehead.

Ginny closed her eyes and leaned into him, sighing contentedly. This minute could go on forever, as far as she was concerned. Just the two of them, sitting like this, not needing to do anything but touch each other.

“I love you, Ginny,” Draco whispered, his lips brushing against her forehead and his breath tickling her face. “So much,” he added with a slight squeeze.

“I love you, too, Draco,” Ginny breathed. Was it possible for one heart to be so full? She could hardly breath through the intensity of her feelings. He was okay, she was okay, they were together again, and they were in love. She felt like her heart was going to burst right out of her until it filled the whole room.

Draco leaned back, ever so slightly, and held up her hand. “Would you wear my signet ring?” he asked shakily. “Until I can propose to you properly?”

If Ginny thought it had been hard to breathe before, the way she felt now made the previous moments seem almost insignificant in comparison. A new stream of tears fell from her eyes as she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Draco looked as if Christmas had come early as he took off the heavy ring and slipped it onto her finger. The emerald snake that was entwined around the Malfoy ‘M’ glittered brightly, but neither noticed it as they came together for another kiss, this one sweet and loving.

As Ginny pulled back, she saw Harry out of the corner of her eye, watching them. She sighed and squeezed Draco’s hand. “I need to go take care of this,” she said softly.

Draco followed the direction of her gaze and nodded. “Right. Go set the great hero straight; let him know that you are mine.”

Ginny chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” She untangled herself from him and walked towards her ex-boyfriend.

Harry shoved his hands deep into his pockets as she approached and adopted his customary puppy-dog look. “Hey,” he mumbled.

“Hey,” Ginny said. “So, good job with Voldemort. I always knew you could do it.”

“Thanks.” He looked at his shoes. “I came over here because I wanted to talk to you about Malfoy, though. And us.”

Ginny played with the hem of her sleeve as she replied. “Harry, there is no us. You broke up with me last year.”

Harry shrugged. “I kind of thought you’d wait for me. I still like you, Ginny, and I think I’d be better for you than him.”

Shaking her head, Ginny said, “First of all, you gave me no reason to expect you would take me back after all of this. All you said was that it was too dangerous for us to be together and it would be better to break up.”

“That’s not what I meant, though!” Harry interjected. “I meant I didn’t want Voldemort coming after you.”

Ginny nodded and continued. “Second, we didn’t have that much of a relationship anyway. Ours wasn’t a true, deep love. Surely you can see that?”

Harry looked a bit sheepish. “Yeah, but we were happy. We would have gotten married and had kids and we would have been comfortable. I would have taken care of you.”

Ginny smiled. “I know,” she said. “But, while comfortable is nice, it’s not what I want, Harry.”

“And Malfoy can give you what you want?” Harry asked, looking skeptical. “He can do better than me?”

“Draco makes me happy,” Ginny replied. “We’re in love and I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Suddenly Ginny was being wrapped in her mother’s arms. Molly had managed to arrive without either of them noticing. “I’d certainly rather you had chosen Harry,” the other woman said in a choked voice, “but I can accept the Malfoy boy if he’s the one you want.”

Ginny returned the hug. “He is the one I want. And I’m sorry, Harry. I know I would have been happy with you.”

“But I’m not enough,” Harry put in. “I know.”

“Oh, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley began, reaching for him.

Parvati Patil disengaged from a nearby group. “I’ll take it from here,” she said, slipping her arm through Harry’s and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Harry looked more than a little flustered as he was dragged away. Molly and Ginny giggled as they watched the pair. “I don’t think we’ll need to worry about him anymore,” Molly said.

With a smirk, Ginny replied, “Or rather, our concern has just taken a new direction. Parvati has been infatuated with Harry almost as long as I was and she’s the sort of girl who does what ever it takes to get what she wants.”

Molly shook her head in amusement. “Now. How about you, dear? Let me meet this boy who has made my daughter so happy.”

Ginny grinned and led the way to where the Malfoys were sitting. Everything was going to work out. Fred’s death was a black spot on the day, but they would get past it; they would move on and heal. Now was the time to go forwards and look to the future.

Draco saw them coming and stood up with a smile. Ginny smiled back and sighed contentedly. The future looked very bright indeed.


THE END

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