I wrote this after I read GoF, so alot of the stuff is either inaccurate or just off kilter. Hope you enjoy it anyway!


The clouds raced across the sky, lending an added chill to the already cold night. Seventeen year old Draco Malfoy surveyed the night sky with a sense of foreboding. In the distance he heard thunder and he knew the approaching storm would be long and severe. At the moment he welcomed it, it suited his mood. Tonight he was to meet his father at the Parkinson Mansion, where Pansy’s parents were holding a dinner party in honor of Mr. Parkinson’s recent success in shooting down Amos Diggory’s proposed Mandatory Artifact Registration.

Draco smiled darkly. The proposed law would make it mandatory for anyone owning any sort of magical artifact to register it under their name, along with the artifact’s type and class. It would make it quite handy to keep up with those who collected artifacts of a dark nature. Lucius Malfoy was a great collector of such artifacts, and he was already being closely watched. Having his collection known in its entirety would be quite…troublesome. In fact, most families could boast an artifact or two of questionable origin. But those like his father had good reason to keep their collections guarded. Can’t help our powerful allies along if we don’t have the proper tools, he thought.

He was not looking forward to tonight. Any party in which he was allowed to attend, especially at the Parkinson’s, meant that Pansy would be there simpering and carrying on. He remembered when he’d first mentioned her to his father. Lucius had been pleased, and encouraged Draco to “be nice to her and show your affection”. How he regretted the day he ever let her name slip out of his mouth! Now at every social function he was expected to socialize and talk to her, or else earn his father’s disapprobation. The Parkinson’s were an excellent family, rich and of pure blood. That was enough for his father.

Draco had to admit that at first the fawning adoration had been flattering. But it had soon got on his nerves. Her endless simpering and brainless chatter was enough to make him want to rip his hair out at times. The most amazing thing about her was her ability to talk. And talk. And talk. She could carry on a conversation with an empty room! And the things she talked about were boring and stupid. Just like every girl he’d ever met. Now, after six years of socializing with them almost exclusively, Draco had a nasty feeling his father and Mr. Parkinson were going to start dropping big hints of what the future should hold. And he had no idea how he was going to get out of it. All he knew was that marriage to Pansy Parkinson would be the equivalent of a life sentence in Azkaban.

But surely it wouldn’t happen tonight. It was a simple dinner party celebrating a legal victory for Mr. Parkinson. He was to meet his mother at Malfoy Mansion and they would take the BMW out to the Parkinson’s. Draco looked forward to persuading his mother to let him drive it. She was easy, and almost always gave in to his wants. He smiled as he thought of her handing him the keys, telling him that they’d let it be their secret.

“No problem, mum,” he murmured. “Just hand over the keys!”

He looked up at the sky again. The clouds had thickened and had slowed down to pile on top of one another. A sudden flash of lightening heralded the swift arrival of the evening’s storm. He closed his eyes to enjoy the after image of the lightening in the quiet chaos behind his eyelids. Violet fire, like the first jolts of the Cruciatus Curse spearing through the brain.

The after image faded. Draco laughed lightly as he turned and began walking home.

*********

Sixteen year old Ginny Weasley picked up a gnome by its feet and spun it furiously over her head before tossing it far into the bushes across from the garden. De-gnoming wasn’t her favorite chore, but she’d ceased feeling sorry for the creatures when one had thanked her for setting it gently down by suddenly relieving himself on her shoe.

“Good toss, Ginny!” Ron laughed. She grinned as she caught another one.

“Let’s see if I can go you one better!” a deep male voice cried behind her. She turned to see Harry whirl his arm over his head and toss his gnome far over the hedges of the yard. She felt herself blush as he laughed easily with Ron, his wide smile adding an extra beauty to his handsome features. He was even more handsome now, at seventeen, than he’d been at eleven. He’d grown tall and sleek, his bright green eyes sparkling with the mischief he and Ron loved to jump into at any given moment. She felt the familiar ache in her heart and wondered if she’d ever be able to get over him, or make him love her back.

Molly Weasley’s voice suddenly carried through the kitchen window, “Boys? Boys please keep it down some! I have a terrible headache!”

“Sorry mum!” Ron called, as he and Harry laughed more quietly. Harry ran his hand through his unruly dark hair, gripping it and jerking himself to the side. Ron almost collapsed in his fit of giggles. The boys were giddy today, and it was no wonder. It wasn’t ever day you got an invitation to try out for a professional Quidditch team!
The Montrose Magpies were interested in both Harry and Ron, who’d started playing quidditch in his fifth year, as a chaser. Harry had also received offers from the Wimbourne Wasps, the Appleby Arrows, and several other teams. Ron, Ginny remembered, had hidden his jealousy rather well. But she’d seen him in a quiet moment, while Harry had read his umpteenth invitation, and tears had dripped down his face for a moment before he’d hastily wiped them away. Ron and Harry’s friendship was sometimes a double edged sword, and their closeness had sometimes been tainted by Harry’s fame. But Ginny knew that Harry hated this even more than Ron, hated the fact that he was famous for something he didn’t remember. Hated the fact that he got special treatment even when he didn’t want it, and most of all hated how much all of this hurt his best friend. That was one of Harry’s most endearing qualities, as far as she was concerned. Not like that awful Draco Malfoy, who was snobbish and rude and mean spirited…

Where in the name of Merlin’s beard had that come from? Ginny scowled and threw the next gnome she grabbed viciously over the garden gate. It was nearing the end of summer and she’d see that crass dolt soon enough. She refused to ruin what was left of her holiday by thinking about him. She would most especially not think of how, at the end of last term, he’d called her a spotted menace, referring to her freckles. How dare that foul mouthed little bastard spout such things at her! Spotted menace? She’d show him the meaning of menace! The next gnome she threw actually gave a shrill cry, knocking her back to reality.

“Ginny, what’s wrong?” A hand rested on her shoulder and she turned to see Harry looking at her with concern.

She blushed furiously. “Oh, nothing Harry…sorry!”
Feeling like an idiot, she quickly excused herself to wash up. The boys could finish the chore; she needed a moment alone.

She ran into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face and neck, then decided to take a bath. As she filled the tub and stripped down, she wondered how she could have once again embarrassed herself in front of Harry like that. All he had to do was look at her and her tongue would thicken. If he spoke to or touched her directly she would get too flustered to speak, and run. Every time! It was humiliating the way it always happened. He lived with them now, for heaven’s sake, and had for almost two years. Why couldn’t she manage to talk to him like a normal person?

To make matters worse, she’d been thinking about his most hated enemy. Well, her enemy too. In fact, it might be called a family feud. The enmity between the Weasleys and the Malfoys was quite thick, and it was worse for Harry. She’d always had the suspicion that, if the Potters had lived, they too would be caught up in this fierce rivalry that seemed to seethe around the Malfoys and others of their ilk. She frowned. The Potters had not lived, unfortunately, and she thought that maybe Harry believed that Draco’s father may have had something to do with it. Since it was now known that Sirius Black hadn’t done it -- by her family anyway -- whom else did that leave?

Well, plenty of others, actually. But she rather enjoyed putting Lucius Malfoy in the role of Disgusting Villain. Not that he needed help with that, she thought grimly, remembering her mental torture at the hands of Tom Riddle. The Chamber of Secrets, the basilisk -- all she had suffered in an attempt to shoot down her father’s Muggle Protection Act. Well it hadn’t worked, she thought with fierce triumph. It hadn’t worked because Harry had saved her, as well as the rest of the school.

Harry. She blushed at the mere mention of his name, and yet he never seemed to notice. If he did, he hid it rather well. For a moment, she felt resentment well in her heart. What kind of boy could see you and know of your love, and yet ignore it? But another part of her mind jumped to his defense, reminding her that he was sweet and shy, and probably didn’t know what to do about it.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and for once she let them fall. No, he didn’t feel the same. He loved Cho Chang, or maybe he loved that new girl from Scotland, Heather. Did it matter who? It wasn’t her, and it never would be.

Ginny pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed as quietly as she could.

************

Time passed, and September arrived. It was time for the return to Hogwarts. Ron and Harry were seventh years now, their last year at Hogwarts, and Ginny was in her sixth. Ever since Molly and Arthur Weasley had adopted Harry, their monetary fortunes had improved, boosted also by the success of Fred and George’s joke shop. Though they had refused to take much, Harry had been able to give them a good deal of money in return for their raising him. The Dursleys had been only too glad to see Harry go, and since they didn’t know Harry had a small fortune to his name, he’d never heard from them again. Ginny knew that this was fine with him.

She loaded her trunk with Ron’s help and then waved and went to talk to Susan Dresh, her best friend. Susan was a Ravenclaw, but she and Ginny had bonded in Herbology, their worst subject. They had seen each other only sporadically over the summer, but they’d kept Errol and Phil, the Dresh family owl, busy with their correspondence. Susan hugged her tightly in greeting.

“It’s so good to see you Gin!” she exclaimed. “And you look so lovely!”

“Oh please, Susan!” Ginny laughed. “It’s you who looks fantastic! You’re practically glowing! What’s his name?”

Susan blushed. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

Ginny was surprised. “Susan! Why would I laugh? You’re my best friend!”

Susan chewed her lip uncertainly, and then smiled. “It’s Seamus -- Seamus Finnigan.”

Ginny’s jaw dropped, but she didn’t laugh. “I…I had no idea!” Impulsively, she hugged her friend again, “When, how? What happened?”

Susan laughed. “I’ll tell you on the train! Got to say goodbye to mum and dad, they always get so maudlin when I go!”

Ginny said goodbye and ran over to her own parents. Ron and Harry were already saying their farewells, and when her turn came she was surprised to see the tears in her mother’s eyes.

“My baby girl is all grown up now!” She smiled tremulously. “All my children are growing too fast for me to keep up with!”

“Oh mum!” Ginny hugged her tightly. “I’m not quite there yet, I still have some child in me!”

“Yes, and I mean to enjoy it. You take care of yourself my dear, and be good!”

Ginny then turned to hug her father, who was also looking rather sad. “Bye daddy!”

“You make me proud Ginny,” he said quietly, making her start. “I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

You’d think I was going away forever, she thought irritably. “Dad, please! It’s only school!”

“I know darling. But I just can’t believe you’re a sixth year already! It seems like just yesterday we brought you-“

At that moment, the train whistle blew, cutting Mr. Weasley off. He hugged Ginny quickly and pushed her towards the train. “Mind yourselves now, and stay out of trouble!” This was for Ron and Harry.

Ginny ran and hopped on the train just as it began to move. Susan was there to grab her hand and pull her to an empty car at the back of the train. They passed Hermione Granger who waved to them as she settled in with Harry and Ron. Ginny liked Hermione, and admired her great intelligence. Most people were irritated by her, but Ginny thought she was a sweet and compassionate person. Her actions always proved this, though she could come across a bit forcefully – such as with her promotion of S.P.E.W. Yet Hermione’s goal there had been admirable and could hardly be considered selfish. But Hermione was soon driven from Ginny’s mind as she and Susan took their seats in the empty car.

“All right, I’ll tell you everything.” Susan grinned.

“Oh good,” Ginny replied sardonically, “I’d hate to have to beat it out of you!”

They laughed and Susan began telling of how she and Seamus had run into each other when her parents were visiting relatives in Ireland. He had been celebrating his birthday and had invited her to come along with himself and his parents. It turned out that they had a great deal in common, and by the end of the visit she’d fallen hopelessly in love with him.

“Oh Gin, he’s so sweet and kind! I don’t think I’ve met anyone before with a bigger heart! Except Harry,” she added hastily. Ginny smiled and shook her head.

“It’s all right Susan, don’t say anything. I have to learn to pull away from him.”

Susan was taken aback. “What? Why? Did something happen?”

“Yes, I woke up!” Ginny said quietly.

She proceeded to tell Susan about her summer and her growing conviction that Harry knew -- had always known -- how she felt, but didn’t return those feelings and never would. Susan tried to argue.

“Gin, you have to tell him outright! How many times have I told you that? He can’t act on mere suspicion, and how is he supposed to know if you don’t speak up? You always say you’ll tell him when you’re ready. Now you’re just going to give up without trying?”

“It’s no use, Susan,” Ginny insisted. “He knows, I’m sure he does because I’ve been an obvious dolt about it for years! How can he not know? I just have to accept this, and I will.”

Susan looked ready to argue more, but Ginny raised a hand to forestall her. “I’ve made up my mind, Susan. No discussion! I just need time to accept it.”

Susan was shocked, to say the least. But she also knew Ginny’s stubbornness. It would be better to talk of this later, in a calmer atmosphere. But they were alone, how much calmer could it get? How could she change her mind so suddenly about telling Harry how she felt? It had been her prime obsession for the last three years! Six, if you counted the time since she’d met him.

Ginny smiled at the ground. “I can practically hear your thoughts. I don’t blame you if you’re angry with me. But I didn’t arrive at this decision lightly or suddenly. For the last year I’ve known, deep in my heart, that he won’t ever love me. It just took me this long to admit it to myself. Now all I have to do is stop pining.” She put on a brave smile, belying the sparkle of tears in her eyes
. “Trust me, it’s for the best!”

Susan sat down and hugged her friend impulsively. “Gin, I hope you know what you’re doing. This is years and years of love!”

“I know. But they’re wasted years. It’s time to move on, and maybe try to find someone who’ll appreciate me!”

Though her tone of voice was light, Susan could hear the pain underneath. She got up and opened the door.

“Where are you going?” Ginny asked.

Susan made a face. “To kick the thick headed twerp’s shins!”

“Susan!” Ginny burst out laughing, making her friend grin.

“I’m going to find the trolly, I’m starving. Want anything?”

“Get me some Cauldron Cakes, and maybe a Fizzing Whizzby.” Ginny began to dig into her pockets, but Susan waved her away.
“My treat!” she said kindly.

And so the trip passed. They laughed and talked of summer, and of Ron’s and Harry’s antics. Quidditch try-outs had gone well, but they wouldn’t hear anything definite for a while. And the boys had to finish school at any rate. They talked of Seamus and his plans to go into his father’s business, and of his hidden romantic side. “He’s forever giving me flowers, Gin!” There were even quiet moments, and if Ginny wept a bit, leaning on her friend’s shoulder, well, that’s what friends are for.

When I first wrote this chapter, I'd forgotten that Miss Chang was older than Harry and co. and included her. Ack! But to compensate I made her a sort of teacher's assistant, so she's an employee instead of a student. Er, enjoy!

Draco sat staring across the great hall at the Gryffindor table. The first week of school had passed rather uneventfully, but this week Quidditch practice would begin. The new Slytherin captain, Lewis Halford, had hinted rather forcefully that perhaps there was a need to hold try-outs for all positions.

"Just in case," He'd sneered at Malfoy. Just in case what? He thought angrily. Just in case Potter makes a fool of me again? He scowled, his gaze snapping down to his barely touched breakfast. Not this time, not this year, he thought fiercely. I'm going to get that snitch every game!


He stabbed his fork into his sausages, over and over, until they were nothing more than fragments of meat. Wasn't it a pity he couldn't do that to Potter's face? He got up and grabbed his book bag.


"Let's go!" he snapped to Crabbe and Goyle, who had been about to help themselves to thirds. They dutifully abandoned their plates and rushed to flank him, almost dropping their own bags in the process. But Draco wasn't paying attention; he was already headed for his first class, Potions, his favorite subject with his favorite professor. He had always liked Snape, but in the last year he'd begun to feel a strange kinship with him. There were moments when, as they'd talked over the semesters, he'd found the Potions Master looking at him with a strange sort of understanding in his eyes. The thing was he could never recall afterwards what it was he and the professor had been discussing at those times. And he was afraid that maybe he'd let slip some of his more secret thoughts.


Still, Snape had never commented on anything. And what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't like the professor would go around spreading any rumors. Draco wasn't sure why he was thinking about this, so he shook himself mentally and tried to remember all the ingredients needed for the Freezing Fusion. Water, powdered sea slug, two phoenix feathers, what else?


He was still absently thinking as he took his seat in the Potions chamber, when he heard a shout of laughter near him. He looked over irritably to see Weasley and Potter talking cheerily to Finnigan and Thomas about their summer, specifically their Quidditch trials. Draco scowled as he heard Weasley's grating voice.


"So Harry starts flying around above the lot of us looking for the snitch. Mind you, there were about twenty judges or whatever, and they were all watching us like hawks. Their heads were following everything we did, and I thought I was going to fall off my broom trying to keep from laughing! But Harry's whizzing and circling us like a billywig, it was hilarious! Well then-"


Then Precious Potter caught the bloody thing, and then they probably told him he was their new seeker for life, and then they promised him thousands of galleons, blah, blah, blah! Draco burned with suppressed rage and jealousy. No one had called him. No one was interested in a seeker who kept losing matches. It wasn't as if he was the sole reason Slytherin House hadn't won either the quidditch or the House cup for six years running. But he never failed to garner a great deal of irritability from his housemates, though they might not express it to his face. And here Weasley was talking about these trials as if they were funny, not important in the least. Well, laugh all you want Weasley, I'll bet they pass you over for Potter. I'll bet you were invited just to please Potter the Great. I'll bet they have no intention of offering you any position above towel boy. And I hope they do!


The bell rang, and Snape strode swiftly in. His presence had the effect of silencing the class immediately. By the time Snape reached his desk, everyone was seated and ready for their lessons. Draco smirked. Snape commanded respect from every student he taught. Failure to do so carried dire consequences. And whether the students liked him or hated him, they never crossed him if they could help it. Without looking at any of them, Snape sat behind his desk and called roll in his usual sharp fashion. Draco took special pleasure in hearing Neville Longbottom squeak out his reply. Even after all these years, Longbottom was still terrified of the Potions Master. Lovely!


For some inexplicable reason, his father's face suddenly loomed before Draco's mind. Draco stiffened, suddenly hearing his father's voice in his mind.


"Sit up straight boy, you're embarrassing me. Your grades are deplorable; you disgrace the name of Malfoy! How do you expect to get along in this world if you can't even play a simple game of Quidditch without losing! Those Mudbloods humiliate you day in and day out, how do you think that makes me look?"


He felt the familiar tightness in his face, the icy pain in his stomach, the bitter taste of bile in his mouth. Glancing sideways, he felt a vicious stab of pleasure as he saw Neville's pale face screw up in fear of the Potions Master. Insufferable fool! If he couldn't manage to make a simple sleeping draught by himself, then he deserved much worse than teasing and name calling. Why hadn't the fat ignoramus been expelled yet?


Suddenly, the dungeon room's door opened. Snape glared at the intrusion and Draco turned irritably towards the door himself. A young woman with flaming red hair entered slowly, her expression guarded.


"Ginny?" Draco heard Ron whisper in surprise.


"What is it, Miss Weasley?" Snape barked.


Ginny stopped, a tiny line forming suddenly between her brows. "I'm sorry Professor, but I was told to come here for some of your Soothing Sluice. Professor Sprout needs a bit."


Draco was surprised, but at what? The firmness of her voice, for one thing. Ginny had always been a very shy, quiet girl, especially around Potter. He could count the number of times he'd heard her speak audibly on one hand. But here she was, staring determinedly at Snape, standing unusually straight as she did so. For the first time, Draco became aware of the gracefulness of her form. She was growing as tall and slender as a willow. He was also surprised to see that her freckles had faded a great deal, leaving only a smattering of them across her cheeks. Her gaze seemed to have gained a steady strength, and she bore little resemblance to the easily hurt girl he remembered from last term. The change in her was obvious, though he'd only now seen it. He hadn't noticed her all the previous week, and now he couldn't understand how he could have missed her.


"Malfoy," Snape growled, "the Sluice is in my store room, along with some empty bottles. Pour out a one ounce measure for Miss Weasley and send her on her way!"


Draco stared at the Potions Master. Why him? Why not make Crabbe or Goyle do it? Because they'd mess it up and would probably smash half the storeroom in the process. Still, Draco was irritated. He got up and headed for the door, feeling the tightness in his face increase. He entered and began looking over the shelves. None of the bottles were labeled, but Draco knew their contents well. On nights when he couldn't sleep, which had been a lot last term, he'd often come down to the chamber to help Professor Snape with his work. The opportunity to relax and just talk with someone had more than made up for the work he'd sometimes had to do: servants work, like cataloging ingredients or rearranging potion bottles, as Snape would explain what they were, what they could be used for, and what was in them. He'd actually enjoyed those times. But now he was to pour out a measure of liquid for the Weasley girl and give it to her, like a bloody House Elf!


He chose a small, bullet shaped bottle and was grabbing the Soothing Sluice when the storeroom door banged open, making him start.


Ginny Weasley strode in and banged the door closed again. Draco stared. What on earth was she doing?


Ginny didn't look at him. She kept her hand on the door and stared down at the floor, her face crimson. After a moment, she closed her eyes and covered them with her other hand.


"What are you doing?" Draco snapped, causing her to whirl around and clamp her hands over her mouth in fright. She had forgotten he was in there.


She tore her hands away from her mouth a moment later; her face going even redder than before, if that was possible. Almost matching her hair, Draco thought. He felt a rush of fresh irritation, and turned to grab a small funnel. "I would have brought this to you, no need to chase me in here!"


"I didn't chase you in here, Malfoy!" she snapped back. "I....thought I'd help you!"


"Help me?" he laughed. "Think I don't have brain enough to pour, or what?"


"Well that's debatable, now isn't it?" Ginny smiled sardonically.


Draco's hand froze on the jar of Sluice. "What did you say?"


Ginny suppressed the mad grin that wanted to erupt on her face, and instead clasped her hands behind her. "Nothing."


"Be careful Weasley." Draco glared at her. "You don't want to go angering the wrong people now, do you?"


Ginny's face tilted up until she looked him directly in the eyes. "Is that a threat?"


"Think of it as a warning." Draco smiled coldly.


"Ooh, a warning!" She returned his smile with three times his frost. "And what will you do, Malfoy?" She suddenly hunched slightly and affected a baby's lisp "'Dear Daddy, Ginny Weasley is being so mean to me. Get her!'"


"Shut up!" Draco hissed. His hands began to shake.


"Oh, I'm sorry, did that piss you off?" Ginny straightened up and glared at him fiercely. "I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy, or your tantrums or threats! If you're looking to bully and call someone names, why not try those who deserve it. How about your dear friends Crabbe and Goyle, since their brains seem to have gone on permanent holiday?"


Draco's hands were clenched around the bottles so tightly they went numb. "You...little...tart! How...dare..."


The door banged open once again, and Snape strode in. The rest of the class was half out of their seats, trying to look inside. Ron looked particularly angry.


The professor's eyes swept over the both of them, taking in every detail. "What is taking so long?"


Not removing her glare from Draco's face, Ginny backed away a step and crossed her arms. "Sorry professor, I distracted Mr. Malfoy. He was just about to pour the Sluice."


Snape's icy gaze pinned Draco, who couldn't think of anything to say in response. Ginny was covering herself, really. But she was also covering him. Turning sharply, he placed the small funnel onto the bullet shaped jar and poured.


"That's enough," Snape growled. Draco stopped pouring abruptly, spilling a little of the Sluice on his hand. It felt cool on his hot skin, and he had the mad urge to take a big swig out of the bottle. He was so enraged he couldn't seem to think straight.


Turning, he handed the bottle to Ginny, taking care not to touch any part of her hand. Ginny took the bottle without comment and strode out of the room, pausing only to quickly thank Snape before she disappeared from view. Draco saw Ron open his mouth and gesture to her, but a moment later the dungeon door opened and banged closed, leaving Ron wide eyed and open mouthed. Harry placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, settling him.


"Wash the equipment, and then resume your seat please," the Professor snapped. Draco nodded, and Snape walked out, banging the door behind him.


Once he was alone, Draco flung the funnel into the sink and gripped its edge tightly, leaning forward. He had managed to get his breathing under control, but his mind was still whirling. That little bitch! How dare she talk to me like some commoner! Her words echoed like a trumpet call in his mind: "Dear Daddy..."


So what if she was right in what she'd guessed? Anyone with intelligence feared the Malfoy name. His father could put the fear of God into her whole worthless family! Lucius Malfoy could make anyone sorry they'd ever crossed him.


He turned on the water, his hands still shaking. He could still see her eyes. They'd burned like fire with her anger. What right had she to be angry? She'd started this! She'd insulted him, his friends, and his family!


Well, he could understand about his friends...


He did not run to his father every time he had a problem. If she only knew, if she could only see how trapped he was. Draco felt sick. His head was spinning and his stomach was queasy in the wake of his flagging rage. He splashed some cold water on his face, then washed the funnel and put it away. He pressed his back against the sink, feeling the edge cut into his spine. The pain cleared his head somewhat, and he took a deep breath.


The little strumpet would pay for her abuse of him. He just had to think of a way. And he would. He was a Malfoy, after all!

***********

October came, and the Halloween feast was an event everyone was looking forward to. Ginny smiled as she and Susan sat by the lake carving pumpkins for the windows of their respective dorms. They had newspapers spread out about them, piled high with pumpkin goo and seeds. Ginny thought about keeping some, to plant a small pumpkin patch at home. She'd owl her mother and see if it was ok.


"Oh Ginny, you're nose is so red!" Susan laughed, tossing some pumpkin goo at her. Ginny laughed. "Hey!"


"I'm happy to see you smile," Susan added. "You've been rather gloomy this week, and you haven't spoken of it."


Typical Susan, Ginny thought wryly, subtle as a thunder storm.


"I'm sorry," Ginny said softly after a moment. "I've had a lot to think about lately. My classes are harder than I had anticipated, and...."


Susan nodded in understanding and decided to say out loud what they both knew.


"And Harry has finally landed the lovely Cho Chang."


Ginny looked up at her friend, her eyes enormous with emotion, and nodded. There were no tears, however. And Ginny seemed, more than anything else, resigned. Susan felt frustration and anger at both Ginny and Harry. Things shouldn't have happened this way, but by some ironic twist of fate, they had. Ginny's love had been there first for Harry and the thick skulled twit had chosen to ignore it. And Ginny! Ginny had chosen to be afraid and live on hope rather than take the initiative and find out what she didn't want to know. Now her pain was deeper and more profound than if she'd revealed her feelings to Harry long before. So many years, wasted! True love tossed aside like garbage. Susan exhaled impatiently. She had a very real desire to knock them both about with a Bludger!


"You're thinking rather loudly," Ginny's voice cut through her reverie. Susan started, and then smiled.


"Sorry, just considering things," she said lightly.


"Considering a certain red headed idiot, perhaps?" Ginny smiled and looked at her friend, an almost playful note in her voice. Susan shook her head.


"It's just that I feel badly for you, and angry about this whole thing! It shouldn't have happened this way, you know. It didn't have to."


"No one is more aware of that than me, Susan," Ginny replied gravely. "But...it worked out for the best. Harry has loved Cho for a long time and he finally found the courage to tell her and win her. I know you think that might have been me, but I don't think so. Harry followed his heart and it led him to her."


Susan wanted to argue, but Ginny's logic was sound. If only logic and emotion weren't two different things, she thought, I might believe this isn't affecting you at all.


"If you believe you made the right choice, than I do too," she finally said. Ginny smiled gratefully.


"Thank you, Susan. That means the world to me."


"Now," Susan picked up her pumpkin again and continued scraping out its insides. "Shall we make them evil or funny?"


"Well if you want an evil one, just carve Malfoy's face on it!" Ginny replied mischievously. Susan laughed heartily.


"That'll scare everyone!"


They both laughed at that and began carving in earnest, deciding on funny faces. They chatted about small things, simply enjoying each other's company and the chill wind that blew across the water, despite the bright sunshine. Neither of them noticed the figure that stood behind a nearby tree. Still for a moment, listening to their chatter, it stealthily moved away towards the castle.

Halloween arrived on a chill and stormy morning. Heavy raindrops pelted the roof, making Herbology impossible. The class was cancelled and the girls found themselves with a free hour to do as they pleased. They couldn't hang out together in one of their dorm rooms, as it was forbidden to reveal the passwords to anyone outside your House, so they elected to go to the library and study. On the way, they passed Ron, Harry, and Cho Chang. Harry and Cho were holding hands. Ginny turned a bit pale, but was able to smile and wave at them. Susan was able to stop herself from flinging her books at Harry's head.


"Numbskull!" she hissed after they passed. Ginny sighed dramatically.


"Susan, if you can't keep from getting violent every time we see Harry and Cho, I'm going to have to muzzle you!"


"Oh yes?" Susan grinned. "You just try it, Weasley, and see if you don't find yourself getting muzzled!"


"A muzzled Weasley, now there's a pleasant thought!" a cold voice spoke from behind them. The girls whirled around to find Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, sneering at them.

Susan frowned. "Mind your own business, Malfoy! Or is barging into other people's conversations the only way you get attention?"


"Stuff it, Dresh!" he snapped, turning to face Ginny directly. "My, my, it seems little Ginny got kicked where she lives! How does it feel? Imagine, finding out you're not even second best in the eyes of your hero!"



Malfoy took a moment to memorize the look on Weasley's face. Her eyes went wide, and a ripple of pain crossed her features. How does it feel when someone talks down to you like you're trash? Does it feel like a thousand needles in your soul? I hope it does!


Draco had never been good at recognizing his own hypocrisy


Susan suddenly gripped her books as if to throw them at Draco's sneering face. "Go away Malfoy, before I call Madam Pince!"


They were right outside the library doors, so Susan's threat held some validity. But Draco wasn't finished yet, oh no!


"Call off your dog, Weasley. She has an obnoxious bark."


"Why you...dirty little...!" Susan sputtered. "This is about that incident in the storeroom, isn't it?"


Draco's eyes flew to Susan, his pointy face suddenly sharpening with fury. She knew!


Ginny placed a restraining hand on Susan's shoulder, realizing that her friend's imprudence was only going to prolong this. "I have no time for your pettiness, Malfoy. You aren't worth a dog's attention, much less my own or Susan's."


She turned to go, dragging Susan by the elbow. Draco's fury boiled over. "At least I don't have to walk through life being second fiddle to some other bint!"


Direct hit! Ginny snapped back around towards him, her face momentarily revealing all of the pain she'd been holding inside. But it was soon replaced by a cold fury.


"Malfoy, you are a low, half witted, brain dead fool! If you had half of Harry's character, you wouldn't be second to him in everything!"


This was not turning out the way Draco had wanted it to. Half witted? Brain dead? Weasley was supposed to be paralyzed with shame or sorrow or something! He had not counted on this...this dragon with a forked tongue! Harry was the chink in her armor and she was supposed to crumble, damnit!


"I have more character than that scarred idiot ever will!" he hissed, beginning to tremble.


Ginny, on the other hand, suddenly calmed. Her gaze once again met his directly, its steady strength piercing him to the core.


"Why do you always feel that you have to beat everyone down in order to be on top?" she asked quietly.


"What? What are you talking about?" he snapped, feeling his heart twist suddenly.


"Maybe if you, for once, stopped posturing like a rooster, you might actually find a reason to smile!" she continued, her eyes enormous. Draco stared, swinging between fury and confusion. He'd never noticed how big her eyes were.


"She's right, you know," Susan piped, "What has being nasty ever gotten you?"


"Stay out of this, you stupid hag!" Draco yelled furiously.


Both Ginny and Susan were almost blown backwards by the volume of this outburst. Madam Pince suddenly appeared, looking around at the lot of them.


"What's going on here? Who yelled?"


But before anyone could answer, an explosion tore through the west end of the hall.



Everyone turned in shock. Ginny felt her heart thundering in her breast. What on earth? Thick, white smoke billowed from the far end of the corridor. It smelled strangely sweet, like burnt cookies.


Ginny grabbed Susan's elbow, just to hold on to something. Madam Pince was now racing down the corridor, directing the students coming out of other classrooms to stay put. Several other teachers came out to join her, Professor McGonagall one of them. She turned in the direction of the students at the library door. There was a fair crowd there by now.


"Inside the library, all of you!" she snapped. "Stay there until you're given leave to return to your dormitories!"


Ginny grabbed Susan's elbow and pulled her slowly inside the door. Everyone retreated slowly, unsure of what they'd see yet not wanting to miss anything. Ginny was staring so intently towards the scene of the explosion that she bumped into the person in front of her.


"Excuse me!" she said absently, not turning until she was completely inside the library door. Draco stood beside her, glaring but obviously distracted.


"Weasley, my shoes cost more than your whole wardrobe, kindly watch where you're going!"


Ginny gave a disgusted snort as Draco stalked away. Crabbe and Goyle were already seated at a table, looking confused (which was hardly unusual) and began whispering rapidly to Draco as he joined them. Malfoy scowled and shook his head vehemently. Crabbe spoke again, his expression almost angry. Ginny stared, wondering what on earth could possibly make Crabbe look so...rebellious. But Malfoy rose half out of his chair and spoke angrily, gesturing at Crabbe emphatically. Ginny caught snatches of his words.


"...hasn't told me...can't move yet...mind your own business! And stop acting like...!"


"Ginny?" a voice beside her made her jump. It was Susan, looking curiously from her to Draco's table. "What's going on?"


"I don't know," Ginny replied. "Let's go find a table."


They walked silently to the back of the library, flinging their books upon an empty table. Ginny tried to comprehend what she'd witnessed. An explosion in the school. She fervently hoped no one had been hurt, and just as fervently hoped it had been an accident. If it hadn't...if it had been deliberately set...her eyes flew to Malfoy's table. He was sitting with a book open in front of him, but he wasn't reading it. He was staring angrily off into space. Crabbe and Goyle were now recovered from whatever had excited their interest, and were idly making paper planes and throwing them at the heads of other students. Draco tossed a disgusted look at them.


He wasn't happy, so perhaps Voldemort wasn't behind the incident. She shivered as her thoughts turned to Harry and her brother. The Dark Lord had not made a move in the last few months, but that didn't mean he wasn't waiting for the right moment to strike. And something like this was sure to draw Harry, Ron, and Hermione right into his path. They never could let others handle things. But then again, it was a good thing they couldn't, as she herself wouldn't be alive today if the three of them hadn't gone investigating on their own. Ironically, it was they that had cleared Draco of any involvement in the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.


She froze, struck by that thought. Yes, Draco had been cleared because he wasn't told what was going on. Could the same thing be happening now?


Ginny looked over at Draco's table again. Crabbe and Goyle were giggling stupidly as Justin Finch-Fletchley pulled a spit ball out of his hair. I guess paper airplanes got boring, she thought wryly. Draco was rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust. He turned towards her then and their eyes met.


Draco stiffened, a scowl erupting on his face. Ginny blushed at having been caught, but refused to look away and composed her features into what she hoped was an icy expression. She was gratified to see his own cheeks turn suddenly red, but he also continued to stare.


Ginny had never engaged in a contest of wills before, and she felt her heart begin to beat fast as she wondered what the hell she was supposed to do. The thought of being the first one to look away was unacceptable. But they couldn't just keep staring at each other like that! Ginny began to feel confused and didn't notice that Draco's scowl was also melting away. Should I say something? She wondered. How do I get out of this?


His eyes are pretty, she thought. Then she got angry with herself, but it was true. Gray they were, like clouds full of rain, and fairly large in his thin face. For the first time she noticed shadows beneath them, as if he hadn't been resting well. A part of her mind idly wondered why. Slytherin parties, or was he capable of having nightmares? Vicious dreams of shadows reaching for him, cold laughter echoing around him, until he welcomed the dawn and the chance to leap out of bed?


She didn't know her expression had softened and that her eyes were once again radiating that steady strength that characterized her. She only knew that for the first time she was looking at him without anger in her heart and the thought occurred to her that he just might be human inside.


"Ginny?" Susan's voice suddenly sliced through her reverie. She gasped and whirled around so fast she nearly wrenched her neck.


Susan started herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You were a million miles away; I've been talking to myself for ten minutes!"


Ginny rubbed the back of her neck, trying not to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry Susan, I was just...worried about Ron."


"Oh! Do you think he was down the west wing? But we saw him and Harry walking outside, remember?" Susan frowned, looking over in the direction of Draco's table. "What were you staring at?"


"Nothing," Ginny said quickly, trying to think of something to distract her friend. "What History of Magic homework did we have?"


Susan's frowned deepened as she turned back to Ginny. "We had a quiz, remember?"


"Oh, that's right!" Ginny laughed nervously. Her eyes flew to Draco, and to her relief she saw that he was hunched down in his chair, holding his book in front of his face. She turned back and stared at the ground, trying to will her heart to stop pounding. What had come over her?


"Well, are you going to tell me what you were staring at?" Susan persisted, suddenly irritating her friend.


"Nothing Susan, I said I was worried about Ron!"


"Sorry!" Susan raised her hands in supplication. "I meant no offense, I beg forgiveness!"


Ginny laughed. "Oh, stop. I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to snap, I'm just scared. I hope no one was in whatever room exploded."


"I do too." Susan tossed her blond hair, her face puckering in a frown again. "Seamus should be in Potions right now. He's safe."


"Oh Susan, I forgot! I'm sure he's safe." Ginny hugged her friend tightly. "Let's just hope that room was empty."


Susan hugged her back, nodding. "It'll be all right. It was an accident, I'm sure. What else could have caused it?"


Neither girl would voice their fear. Ginny straightened and noticed the teachers filing back in to the library, Professor Dumbledore with them.


"Your attention please," came the voice of the headmaster. The students went quiet immediately as he gestured for silence.


"I have good news and bad news," he said gravely. "The good news is that the accident took place in a storage room, so no one was hurt!"


The room stirred with relieved murmuring, and the Headmaster once again gestured for silence. Ginny suddenly noticed Snape enter and whisper to Professor Dumbledore, who nodded before turning back to the students.


"The bad news is that the Halloween feast will have to be cancelled."


"What?" Susan gasped. All around similar outbursts were taking place, especially among the first and second years. One young girl burst into tears. "I spent ages on my costume!" she sobbed.


"Students, please!" Dumbledore called for silence again, and the rumbling stopped. "This is for your own safety. Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and I will be conducting an investigation into what precisely caused the accident. That will take the whole of this day, and perhaps into the weekend. You are excused from all further classes. Please return to your common rooms for the remainder of the day. That is all."


"Well, that's that." Susan said briskly, gathering her books. "Pity about tonight though, I was looking forward to spending it with you and Seamus. Now we might be restricted until next week."


"I'm sure we won't" Ginny replied, though she was worried. For Professor Dumbledore to restrict everyone to their common rooms meant that he had a reason for being concerned, and Ginny knew of very few things that could cause the headmaster to feel such a way.


Voldemort was one of them.


No, she thought fiercely. It's not about him. It was an accident!


But as she filed out of the library with the rest of the students, Ginny couldn't stop the little sliver of fear that worked its way into her heart.


They filed down to the staircases that led to the four common rooms. Ginny and Susan said their goodbyes, and then melted in with their respective housemates. On the way to the entrance of Gryffindor tower, Ginny spotted Ron, who rushed over to her.


"Ginny! You're all right!" He hugged her, looking pale and scared. Ginny was surprised.


"Of course I'm all right. I was worried about you, too," she replied, turning to hug Harry as well. He grinned at her, his eyes warm with brotherly affection.


"Knew you'd be ok. But you were near the library, weren't you? We thought you might have been in it!"


"We saw it. Susan and I, I mean. Madam Pince and Professor McGonagall were off the moment it happened, though. No one was hurt."


"Thank goodness!" Hermione joined them, taking Ginny's hand and squeezing it comfortingly. "Do they know what caused it?"


"Professor Dumbledore is going to investigate with McGonagall and Snape. He said it might take through the weekend."


"Snape?" Harry asked softly, causing Ginny to look at him curiously. He exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, and then nodded slowly.


"Makes sense," Ron said, looking seriously at Harry. Hermione nodded in agreement. They all seemed to have forgotten Ginny was there.


"What makes sense?" she asked a little forcefully, making them start.


"Nothing," Harry responded. "Was Susan all right?"


Ginny suddenly wondered if he would ever dare to ignore Cho like that. "She was fine but disappointed that she won't get to see me and Seamus tonight, though. So what were you-"


"Ginny!"


She turned to find a white faced Seamus running towards her. "Ginny, you're all right! Was Susan hurt?"


She clasped his hand. "She's perfectly fine, Seamus. She sends her love."


"I was so worried!" He closed his eyes. "I heard that the two of you were near the explosion. What happened?"


Ginny felt a rush of irritation. She didn't have time for this; she wanted to speak to Harry about what he'd been talking about. "They don't know yet," she said hurriedly, "They're investigating. Now if you'll excuse me-"


She turned back to talk to Harry and the others, but they were gone. She looked around the common room, leaving Seamus gawking at her. But the trio had either gone upstairs or were out where they shouldn't be.


She scowled, frustration bubbling up in her belly. She wasn't a baby, why did they continue to treat her like one? Was it too much to ask of The Fantastic Trio to trust in her? Turning on her heel, she marched up the stairs to her room and fell to brooding.



*****************



Draco sat in a corner chair of the Slytherin common room, listening to the excited chatter around him. Everyone was speculating on whether or not the explosion was a direct attack by the Dark Lord or merely an accident. The favorite theory at the moment was an attack, but some were not pleased about it.


"It's bad," said Frieda Lawson, a sixth year who was exceptionally brilliant at curses. "The Dark Lord arose almost two years ago now. But what has he done? He still hasn't reclaimed the power he once had, and his allies are deserting him faster than rats upon a sinking ship! They don't want to be beholden to him again. And why should they? Why should anyone? We work hard to raise our fortunes, to spread our power. Why should he reap all of the benefits, when he doesn't contribute?"


"Because he holds more knowledge of the dark arts than anyone living!" snarled Mordred Bowen, a fifth year whose family could trace its lineage back to Merlin. Or so they claimed. "The Dark Lord richly rewards those who faithfully serve him, with long life, monetary wealth, and power over your enemies. He could lead us to a day when we will all be free of the Mudblood scourge."


"So he claims!" Frieda sneered. "But all that has happened so far is a lot of talk, and most of it hasn't even been from him."


"You are too young to remember, Frieda," the soft voice of Jared Stone, a burly seventh year whose accomplishments in transfiguration were second only to Hermione Granger's, snaked into the conversation. "We all are! Our parents saw his rise and fall, and we would do well to heed their words."


He suddenly turned towards Draco, his gaze narrowing. "What say you, Malfoy? Your family has always been part of the Inner Circle. Does your father share with you the secrets that he's been told?"


Draco's expression became so cold his eyes resembled chips of ice. He leaned forward, his face becoming dimly visible in the half-light of the fire. "What the Malfoys are told stays with us. We are not the trusted servants of the Dark Lord for nothing!"


Those nearest to him went silent. Draco's steely gaze bore into Stone's, causing him to look away with a nervous laugh. "Of course, that's always the way of things, isn't it?"


Draco didn't bother to reply. He merely sat back, allowing the shadows to envelope him once more. He had crushed the impudence of an inferior and he had nothing more to prove. Crabbe and Goyle were grinning, proud to be his supporters at such a moment.


After a while, the conversation resumed and the topic shifted to the cancellation of the Halloween party. Most present declared their indifference, but Draco knew they were disappointed, especially the younger students. And why not? It might be silly, but it was one way to pass the evening. Definitely better than sitting in the common room, listening to the bickering and posturing of fellow students. Draco looked over at Crabbe and Goyle, his dear friends. They were currently engaged in an arm wrestling match, their faces screwed tight with their concentrated efforts.


Friends to be proud of. They might even graduate if he helped them through their finals again.


Draco was suddenly tired. Tired of listening to this useless talk, tired of looking at the two idiots he called friends and most of all tired of sitting in the shadows looking mysterious and pretending to know more than he did. The truth was he had no idea if the explosion had been an attack. He hadn't heard anything from his father since leaving for school. And though his mother owled him every week, she was ignorant of anything that might concern Voldemort's plans. Lucius Malfoy had not married Narcissa McFain for her intelligence. And her love of gossip made her untrustworthy as a confidante.


Draco stood suddenly and walked to the stairs, heading for his room. Crabbe and Goyle started to follow, but he waved them away. He wanted to be alone; he needed to think. Climbing the stairs, he felt exhaustion creep into every limb until his legs burned with fatigue.


Once in his dorm, he threw off his robe and stripped down to his underwear, letting the chill air tingle his skin. Discomfort always cleared his head somewhat, and lately his mind had suffered many disturbances, the biggest one of all being Ginny Weasley.


He scowled as he thought of her, running a hand through his hair restlessly. She had hounded his thoughts, her cold fury a sharp sting to his pride. She had insulted and degraded him in ways he'd rarely experienced. He was constantly plotting revenge, but everything seemed to backfire. He'd thought that twisting the knife called Harry Potter into her broken heart would do it, but she'd proven stronger than that. His thoughts flew to that moment in the library. He'd seen that strength in her eyes, those enormous, beautiful brown eyes that seemed to reach across the space between them and draw him into their depths. He'd felt it. Like the gossamer spider web she appeared delicate and flimsy, but she was actually strong as steel.


She was going to be harder to crack than he'd first imagined.


He stood abruptly and began tossing clothes out of his trunk, looking for his pajamas. His face tightened so badly it began to hurt, and he felt his stomach cramp. He roughly pulled on his bed clothes, tearing the delicate silk top but not caring. His mind emptied with his intense concentration on physical activity, so he grabbed his robe and swept out of his dorm. He didn't look where he was going, he just moved.


Before he knew it he found himself at the foot of the stairs to the common room, where most of his housemates still sat awake. He looked over the room and saw that most of them were seated near the fireplace. The back of the common room was deep in shadow, and there were some pieces of furniture -- like the big writing desk -- that, if necessary, he could duck behind. Moving with admirable stealth, he made it to the entrance without drawing any attention and was quickly out the door.


Once outside, Draco didn't stop to think, he just walked. His feet were bare, as he'd forgotten his slippers, but he welcomed the almost painful chill as another barrier against the insufferable thoughts in his mind. He walked with head down, almost leaning forward, hands clasped behind his back. The stone floor seemed to swim past his feet with the speed of his movement, as the light of the moon and the shadows mingled in a dizzying pattern upon it. White light, pure and innocent, like her smile...


"NO!" he jumped at the sound of his own voice.


Draco's heart thundered in his chest. Looking around, he saw that he was climbing the stairs to the Tower, the entrance only a few feet away. He frowned, wondering what had brought him here. His legs were burning with fatigue again, but he was near the top. Would it be open right now? He slowly climbed the last few steps and tried the knob. The door opened easily and he walked outside.


The tower's Lunoscopes and other observation equipment were covered in drop cloths. The ceiling stretched about five feet from the castle wall behind him, and then ended abruptly, leaving a nice large space to observe the heavens or to look out at the grounds. Draco walked to the edge of the wall and looked out at the lake, a strong wind blowing his hair back and chilling him to the bone. His feet were numb with cold and his eyes watered from the lash of the wind. But somehow this didn't seem to matter as he stared at the moon's reflected light on the water. The shadow of the Forbidden Forest loomed ominously behind the lake, and in the distance Draco heard a long, mournful howl. A werewolf? Lupin perhaps?


He smiled nastily at this, remembering how the young professor had always favored the Gryffindors, just as Snape always favored his own House. But thinking of the Gryffindors brought Ginny's image sharply into focus, and Draco whirled away from the peaceful scene below him. He never saw the large animal shape that ran from the Forest towards the Whomping Willow.


A cloud passed before the moon, throwing everything into shadow. He threw himself down, ignoring the freezing chill that climbed up his rear to his spine. Was there no escaping her? Why did she intrude on his thoughts, disturbing what little peace he had? He remembered the warmth that had pervaded his being as they'd stared each other down, confusing his resolve and emptying his mind. And yet he hadn't been angry when it happened. On the contrary, he'd felt something strange blossom in himself. Something...quiet and warm, and completely alien.


Draco snarled, his irritation sharpening, cutting into his thoughts like a razor. Damn her! Why was she still in his mind? Why couldn't he dismiss her as he'd done the rest of her dirty, sniveling family? What was so special about her?


Was she special? Was there something about her that he could use to further himself or his ambitions? Is that why he couldn't seem to get her out of his head, because he'd subconsciously recognized a trait or talent? Draco paused, narrowing his eyes as he considered this possibility.


"Ridiculous!" he growled. She was a Weasley, a Mudblood loving tart. As worthless as her numerous brothers and that idiot father of hers. There was nothing special about her, no unique talents that he'd noticed over six years. She was nothing, just another Spotted Menace in a too large family of idiots.


Quite suddenly, the memory of his first words to Ron flashed into his mind:


"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford!"


He blushed, but didn't know why. More children....yes, he hadn't had a Weasley free term at Hogwarts since he'd started.


But why was he thinking about this?


Lowering his head, Draco forced himself to consider the accident, if indeed it was one, and nothing else. It was quite possible that it had been completely innocent, since there had been no one near enough to get hurt. What would have been the purpose, if not to cause an injury or death? Destroying something? What was in the west wing worth destroying? He frowned. Transfiguration class, the library, the storage rooms, Filch's broom closet -- what else? And was it anything important?


Whoff!


Draco froze, his head snapping up.


Whuff, snuff, snuff! Snort!


The noise had come from the stairs! He sat absolutely still, straining his ears for the slightest sound.


Grrruff!


It sounded like an animal. Draco looked wildly around. What would an animal be doing in the castle? There were only the owls and the pets of students - cats and toads. But this sounded like...a dog!


Snuff, whuff!


Draco didn't wait any longer. He gathered his numb legs and feet under him, ignoring the cramping pain, and crawled as quietly as he could behind the largest telescope, just as the door eased open.


As carefully as he could, Draco peeked out from behind the telescope as an enormous, black shape padded in. It had its head to the ground, sniffing deeply and growling softly. Draco felt his heart pound as the creature began to sniff a trail towards the wall -- to the very spot where he'd been sitting.


Trying to stay calm, Draco tensed his body to run if he were spotted. He had severe doubts as to whether he'd get away, however. Is it a dog? He thought fearfully. Somehow he didn't think so, though it resembled one. It was thin through the flanks like a dog, and its snout was long and pointed. Suddenly the clouds that had been building parted, and in the light of the moon Draco saw the beast clearly.


A werewolf!


His heart thundered, and fear suddenly threatened to choke him. The werewolf was hunched over the spot where he'd been sitting, sniffing carefully and its growls becoming louder. He had to run, escape! But the strength suddenly left his legs and he was paralyzed with fear. The creature's head snapped up suddenly, causing Draco to gasp audibly.


GrrrrrRAAFF!!!


He had been spotted! The werewolf's eyes bored into his, and Draco knew he was trapped.

Ginny stared up at the Tower staircase, wondering at her sanity. She needed to go to Dumbledore, or McGonagall -- anyone! There was a werewolf in the castle, and she was the only one who knew!


Slowly, as quietly as she could, she began to climb the stairs. As she did she cursed the curiosity and anger that had landed her in this position. After Harry, Ron, and Hermione had disappeared that afternoon, she'd spent about fifteen minutes on her bed brooding. It was unfair the way they didn't trust her and kept all the mystery and intrigue for themselves. She'd gotten so angry that she'd gone downstairs determined to find them. On the excuse that she'd forgotten something in the library, she escaped the common room and headed there as a starting point. The trio was not in the library, and Ginny had a close call when Madam Pince almost spotted her. Making it out of the library, she was startled by voices down the corridor. It was Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall, discussing their investigation in one of the classrooms. She heard snatches of their conversation filter out.


"I'm sure it isn't," Dumbledore's voice said. "He has my implicit trust, and I cannot see where you're going with this, Severus."


"My point, Headmaster, is that very few people know of the entrance at the Whomping Willow. I know you...favor him, but to be fair we cannot rule out-"


"That's ridiculous, Severus!" McGonagall's voice snapped. "What you're suggesting is contrary to what we know of the man!"


The voices began moving out of whatever room they were in, and Ginny was forced to run as quietly as she could for the stairs, her heart pounding. Once safely downstairs, she pondered what she'd heard.


The entrance at the Whomping Willow? She hadn't known there was a door anywhere around there. It wasn't even close to the castle! How could there be an entrance there? Ginny looked around, wondering where to go next. Harry was very tenacious once he started investigating something, but she had no idea how he accomplished the things he usually did. Well, she wasn't going to let that stop her! There was no way she could investigate the Whomping Willow at that moment. The front doors would be watched, and everyone was supposed to be in the common room. Still, she wasn't ready to go back yet. So she headed downstairs, towards the kitchens. There she finally ran into the Fantastic Trio, all loaded down with cakes, tarts, fudge, and jugs of pumpkin juice. They claimed to have gone to the kitchens for treats so Gryffindor could throw its own Halloween party, and Ginny might have believed them had it not been for the fact that not one of them would look her straight in the eye. It hurt and angered her, but she pretended to swallow their story, determined to do some investigating of her own once everyone had gone to bed.


A resolve easier said than done! The party lasted well after midnight, as the next day was Saturday, and Ginny had eaten a lot once her anger had cooled and more than once had almost nodded off! But the biggest problem had been the trio themselves. They didn't seem a bit tired, even when the clock struck two thirty, and everyone else had finally retired. It was then that she'd gotten the distinct impression that they, too, were waiting for everyone to go to bed -- including her! So she casually yawned and said goodnight, climbing the stairs to the girl's dorm, opening and closing it without going in.


Not many seconds passed before she heard the subtle murmur of their voices, and movement. A moment later she heard the portrait door open and close, followed by silence. They were gone. Ginny headed after them in a flash. Yet no matter how she ran, they eluded her, seeming to have disappeared into thin air! She'd headed for the kitchens again, straining her ears for their voices, but all was silent. She walked through darkened corridors, heading into parts of the castle she had never seen before. But no Harry, no Ron, no Hermione. This was not what she'd had in mind! She had walked for over an hour before she heard the growling.


Ginny stared up at the top of the Tower stairwell where she could just make out the moonlight spilling in through an open door. A sudden gust of cold air made her shiver, and she tugged her sweatshirt down. She couldn't remember what part of the castle she was in. She had just heard a large, growling animal down an opposite corridor and had elected to follow it at a distance before waking one of the professors, so she would be able to tell them where it had gone. As she'd followed it, cringing every time it growled or whuffed, she'd realized that the creature seemed to understand where it was going. It moved with a purposeful gait, and when it sniffed the ground it didn't stop walking. It turned this corner and that with confidence, sometimes not even bothering to look up. It had chilled Ginny to see a wild creature act so...human! Her heart hammered with fear as she stared up at the open door. She could shut it, trap it, and then run for Professor Dumbledore. But she was terrified that it was right on the other side of the door.


Stop it! she scolded herself. If she left now, the creature might escape. Then it could go anywhere it wanted to in the castle. That would put everyone in danger, and she couldn't just run away and let that happen. What if it broke into one of the common rooms? Though this was almost impossible to do magically, would the doors' securities be able to prevent physically forced entrances, especially by powerful beasts? Ginny didn't know, and thinking of Susan made her not want to take the chance. Besides, Harry wouldn't back down from this!


That decided it! Ginny screwed up her courage and began climbing the steps. She was so scared she could hear her own heartbeat, but this only made her more determined. She took a step, then another, until she was almost running towards the door. With each step she took, Ginny found more courage, and moved more quickly, wanting to slam shut the door and run to Dumbledore as fast as she could! She was halfway up the stairs when she heard the creature growl loudly. She froze for a split second, and then ran towards the door. Three steps from it, Ginny reached out to grasp the knob. Just as her fingers closed around it, she heard a strangled cry.


Already in motion, Ginny slammed the door shut before she completely froze.


GRRRROOOWWLLLL!!!!


The creature roared loudly, making her squeal in fright. But then another cry joined the creature's growls -- a human cry! Someone was on the tower with the beast!


For a moment, Ginny simply stared at the door in horror. She had trapped an innocent person up there with the werewolf! What should she do? She couldn't run for help, it might be too late for the victim. What if it was Susan? The thought made Ginny's heart thud with terror. She had to do something! With no other choice, she grasped the doorknob and leapt inside.


She ran past the observation instruments and out into the uncovered part of the landing. Immediately she spotted the werewolf crouched on the ground, its jaws clamped around a boy's throat. Ginny stopped and would have screamed if her voice hadn't deserted her. Then she realized the boy was whimpering and there was no blood. The creature's mouth was on the boy's throat, yes, but its jaws hadn't penetrated the skin. It seemed to be merely holding the boy stationary. The creature's blue left eye was fixed on Ginny, and its growls sounded very threatening.


"Help me!" the boy cried hoarsely. "Please!"


"Draco!" Ginny squealed, recognizing him for the first time. She bounced in panic, not knowing what to do. Then Draco's whimpers turned to gasps of pain, as the creatures jaws finally began to tighten. She saw his mouth open wide in a silent scream of pain, and blood appeared suddenly on his collar.


"Stop!" she screamed, picking up a nearby metal rod and throwing it at the wolf. The rod glanced off the creature's skull, and it dropped Malfoy, instead turning upon her.


GRRROOOOWWLLLLLLLL!!!


Ginny was too terrified to stand and continued to bounce on the balls of her feet. The werewolf was angry now, and Ginny's mind raced as she tried to think of some way to knock it out. She didn't have her wand with her, as she'd left her robes in her room. And as she grabbed a second piece of metal (she didn't pay attention to what it was) she wondered what her parents would say when the school contacted them to inform them that she'd been eaten by a werewolf.


The creature suddenly stood on its hind legs and let out an earsplitting howl.


OOOOOOOOWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOO!!!


The volume of the cry stunned her, making her stumble and drop the metal piece. She made a grab for it, and at the same moment the werewolf pounced on her. Its huge paws struck her back, pushing her to the ground. Ginny screamed in terror. She felt her head strike the stone floor, and her left arm bend awkwardly beneath her, elbow cracking as it struck the ground. Her face was pressed hard against the stone, and she could taste blood from where she'd bit her lip. The shooting pain in her arm made her struggles weak, but struggle she did. She had no intention of ending her life the meal of a wild animal!


Crack! The sickening thud of metal on bone met her ears, and the werewolf flew off of Ginny. She rolled over immediately and began to scuttle backwards to get away. That's when she saw Draco, the metal telescope in his hands bent from striking the skull of the creature. He turned to her and held out his hand.


"Come on!" he yelled, dropping the telescope and moving towards her. Ginny didn't hesitate. She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up, ignoring the pain in her arm. Malfoy stumbled weakly from pain and fear, and instinctively Ginny grabbed him around the waist and propelled him towards the exit. The wolf was wobbling on all fours, stunned, but it would recover soon enough. Ginny didn't look behind her, she just kept her eyes focused on the door. Once they reached it, she tossed Malfoy through and grabbed the knob, slamming and locking the door behind them just as the werewolf reached it. The creature howled in rage, throwing its body against the door. Ginny backed away, staring at the hinges that were bending with the force of the creature's blows. She backed right into Draco.


She gasped and turned towards him, then winced as a fresh wave of pain shot through her arm.


"You all right?" he whispered, grabbing her shoulder and studying her face.


She gritted her teeth against the pain and nodded.


"Good," he said, staring intently at her. Her eyes fluttered open after a moment, and Draco was fascinated by how vulnerable she appeared. Her skin was waxen, her eyes enormous with pain, and her lip was swollen slightly, bloody from where she'd bitten it. He found himself wanting very much to lick it clean.


"Uh...we should go!" he stammered, looking quickly away.


Ginny felt weak from the trauma, but she had noticed Draco looking at her...very strangely. It had made her feel strange, at least. She felt her stomach flutter as she looked at his pale face, his blond hair falling into his eyes. It had grown a bit longer than she was used to seeing on him, the back almost touching his collar. She saw a white hand reach up and sweep the hair aside, smoothing it behind one ear. Then she realized it was her own. His eyes rose and met hers, and for a moment they just stared. Then, as one, they straightened and drew away from each other as another loud bang resonated through the stairwell.


"I'm going to Dumbledore!" she said quickly, as they began to trot down the stairs. "We have to tell him right away!"


"You go to him, I'll get Professor Snape!" Draco replied. "Then get yourself to Madam Pomfrey!"


"You should go to her now!" Ginny gasped, looking at his neck with sudden fear. "It bit you!"


Draco stopped walking and stared at her, the color draining from his face. He started to touch his neck, but yanked his hand away. Snape, he had to find the Potion Master!


"Come on!" he hissed, grabbing her elbow and walking faster than before


They walked as quickly as they could down the hall. Draco seemed to know where he was going. "My common room is over here," he said quickly, "but I think Professor Snape might still be in his office. Where's Dumbledore's office?"


Ginny halted suddenly, realizing she didn't know. The reason she'd kept thinking of getting him was because, like most everyone, she believed there was nothing the headmaster couldn't handle. But she hadn't stopped to remember that she had no idea where he lived!


"What?" he asked her, frowning. She felt a stab of anger, but whether at him or in response to her own ignorance, she wasn't sure.


They turned suddenly as voices floated towards them. It was Snape and the Headmaster, followed by Professor McGonagall.


"Miss Weasley!" she gasped, "Mr. Malfoy! What on earth are you doing here?"


Ginny had the sudden, sinking feeling that they were in trouble. She opened her mouth to explain, when suddenly the corridor's silence was shattered by the music of the werewolf's howl.




Everyone gasped and whirled around. The creature was standing behind them on its hind legs, blood dripping from its jaws. Ginny felt her heart thunder in her chest, while confused fear nearly blinded her. How had it gotten down there without their hearing the door crash in? She ran behind the teachers, along with Draco. Dumbledore had his wand out already, and his eyes nearly glowed with power.


"STUPEFY!" he bellowed, just as the creature leaped. Ginny screamed as it let out a yelp and fell unconscious at their feet.


They all stood for a moment, just looking at the creature. Its rib cage rose and fell with its rapid breathing, and blood was now spilling from its jaws. Ginny stared in horror, suddenly remembering how she had found Draco. Her eyes flew to him.


"You were bitten!" she gasped, her eyes wide.


Snape turned to his student, grabbing his chin and jerking his head up, while Professor McGonagall pulled out a handkerchief and tried to clean his wound. Snape knocked her hand away angrily, unable to see the wound clearly in the dim light.


"Take them both to the hospital wing, Severus," Dumbledore said quickly. "Minerva, please get Hagrid here immediately!"


Snape didn't answer; he just grabbed Draco and Ginny hard by their upper arms and fairly pushed them down the corridor. Draco almost stumbled twice, but the professor's grip was strong, and kept him upright. As he was propelled along, Draco found himself feeling remarkably empty. He'd been bitten by a werewolf! There's no cure for the bite, he thought dazedly. What would happen to him? Would he now turn into a monstrous, shaggy wolf? The thought made him cringe inwardly, but he was too numb to feel anything beyond that. To be bitten by a werewolf was to be the recipient of a powerful curse, one that no amount of magic or medicine could cure. He noticed the moonlight filtering in through the windows reflecting upon the floor. It would be his enemy, the signal for change into a mindless beast. No more Hogwarts, no acceptance. He thought of Professor Lupin, poor and derided because of his condition, which made him think of his parents, particularly his father. Oh God! What will he say? Draco's heart finally began to pound in terror in reaction to this thought. Lucius Malfoy was a merciless racist, and Draco had no idea if he would make any exception for his own son! He might very well find himself disowned and discarded. He turned to Ginny then and found her staring at him, her expression filled with fear and pity. He jerked his gaze away.


"Please stay calm, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said mildly, as his grip tightened on Draco's arm and he walked even faster. They arrived at the hospital wing in record time.


Madam Pomfrey took Draco first, and with a damp towel began to clean his wounds. "Looks bad. There's a lot of blood," she murmured worriedly. Draco shut his eyes against the pity on her face. This wasn't happening. He wasn't really here!


Suddenly Madam Pomfrey called out to Snape in an excited voice. "Professor, the skin isn't broken!"


Draco's eyes flew open and focused on the face of the school nurse, his heart tripping worse than ever. Snape strode over quickly, his face crunched in a look of angry concern, and bent to examine Draco's neck. After a moment, his expression cleared.


"Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy. You've avoided a fate worse than death."


Draco didn't know he was going to cry until the moment that he did. Relief surged through his whole body, and he went limp and weak as the tears coursed down his cheeks. He faced his teacher, mouth opening and closing, unable to speak or make any sound. Madam Pomfrey looked at him with compassion, and held up a small mirror.


"See for yourself, Mr. Malfoy. It bit you hard, but not hard enough!"


Draco grabbed the mirror and anxiously examined his wound. There were swollen, red tooth marks on his neck -- tender still, the skin around them beginning to bruise. But he was whole, no curse to ruin his life and crush his soul.


"Yes," Snape said briskly, taking the mirror from him. "Now he needs rest. And you have another patient."


Madam Pomfrey quickly settled Draco into a corner bed, and then bustled over to Ginny. Her elbow was indeed cracked, and she had a large bruise forming on her head where she'd struck the pavement. The nurse mended her bones in a flash and gave her something warm to drink as she settled her in the bed next to Malfoy's. Snape had gone as soon as Malfoy had been settled to report the good news to Dumbledore. As she lay in the bed, sipping her drink, Ginny felt exhaustion sweep over her. What a night! Happy Halloween indeed! This definitely hadn't been a treat. The nurse came and took their mugs, advising them to get some sleep, and extinguishing the candles. Ginny didn't need the encouragement. But as she closed her eyes she heard Malfoy sniffle a bit, and she turned to him in the darkness.


"Are you all right?" she whispered. He was silent for several minutes, and Ginny was about to ask again when he spoke.


"No, I'm not," he replied flatly. "I was almost a werewolf. This has been the worst week of my life!"


Ginny frowned, feeling a surge of irritation. "Well you're not a werewolf! Things aren't all bad. Maybe life will get better from here."


"My father might have disowned me, you know," Draco continued. "I might have been expelled!"


"You might also be dead!" she said angrily, "Or you might be facing a monthly transformation into a monster!"


As soon as she said it, a wickedly funny thought struck Ginny. Ha! Then you would know what we girls go through every month! She had to slam her hand over her mouth to keep from snickering. In the dim light of the room, she saw him frown.


"What?" he asked.


"Nothing!" she replied quickly, hoping he wouldn't pursue it. But the thought was spreading through her mind, and she suddenly let out a snort of laughter. Draco scowled.


"I'm so glad you find my suffering amusing!" he snarled.


"Oh please!" she snapped, her humor disappearing. "You survived an encounter with a werewolf, with no harmful effects to show for it! You aren't getting expelled or disowned. Allow me to thank you for all your concern. I mean, I live to save your life! It's one of my hobbies."


Draco fell silent, chagrined and not wanting to admit it, just as he didn't want to admit that he was growing addicted to the fire in her eyes. His own eyes narrowed as he attempted to throw up a barrier of anger between them.


"No need for sarcasm, Weasley. Allow me to thank you for accidentally finding me and doing the right thing!"


Her mouth dropped open at his arrogance, and her blood began to boil. "You ungrateful twit!" she hissed, "I should have let that thing rip you to pieces!"


His lip curled in a confident sneer. "Don't be silly. You're too sentimental to do that...Gryffindor!"


"And you," she replied furiously, "are too horrible for words, snake!"


With that, Ginny turned away from him and pulled the covers over her head, seething with anger. Malfoy stared at her prone figure, forcing himself to stay silent and not apologize. He'd felt a stab of pain in his heart at her words, and he tried very hard to convince himself it was nothing. She's a Weasley, a worthless rag doll, he thought. No riches, no refined mannerisms, no taste. She was nothing like Pansy Parkinson.


Nothing like Pansy Parkinson. No plastic smiles, no simpering compliments, no false praise, just honest anger and unbelievable courage.


A true Lion Heart.


He felt his heart and soul grow warm with the most unfamiliar feelings as he continued to stare at her well after she fell asleep.

************

Hagrid shook his shaggy head and threw a bloody rag into a bucket of warm water.


"It's sick, Professor," the gamekeeper said sadly. "I'm not right sure wha's causin' it. But I'd say it's a blood sickness, like in them's that can' stop bleedin' when they're cut on the finger, or summat like tha'."


"Do you mean hemophilia?" Dumbledore shook his silver maned head in concern. The werewolf was still unconscious. And as the early light of dawn began to pour across the sky, the Headmaster's concern for his students increased. "I do hope Severus is almost through."


No sooner had the headmaster spoke than a sharp knock was heard on the shed's door. Without waiting for a reply, Snape walked in carrying a goblet of smoking liquid. "It's ready."


"Thanks, Professor." Hagrid took the mug and a baster, and started squeezing and pouring the liquid down the animal's throat.


"Thank you, Severus," the headmaster said quietly. "Now at least we can be sure the poor creature won't be a danger."


"Are you so certain, Headmaster?" Snape asked, frowning. "Werewolves are human as well. And as such, their hearts are not always predictable."


"I am well aware of that, Severus," Professor Dumbledore replied calmly, "which is why I've taken the added precaution of placing an Unbreakable Charm on this shed."


"I hope it will cooperate, then," Snape murmured darkly.


"As do I, Severus. We will allow the creature to rest until tomorrow, and then I will attempt telepathic communication if it doesn't regain human form by then."


"Shouldn' be a problem, Professor," Hagrid said, straightening up from his task. "The moon'll on'y be full one more night."


Dumbledore nodded, hoping that answers could be gained as painlessly as possible.

Ginny stood stiffly in front of the wash basin, scrutinizing her reflection. There were dark circles under her eyes and her complexion could at best be called pasty. She had slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares of shadows, cold laughter, and the monstrous howling of a lone wolf. She sighed, wondering if she would ever be free of the nightmares that disturbed her sleep at odd intervals.

Her comfort was that, since it was Saturday, she would be able to collapse back into bed once she reached Gryffindor Tower. She rarely had nightmares when she slept during the day, though she didn’t know why. She finished washing up, and then stepped back out into the infirmary where Draco was waiting for her to finish.

“About time!” he snapped. “Did you fall asleep Weasley?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and smiled, too tired to be baited. “Sorry Malfoy. It’s all yours!”

He scowled as he brushed past her into the washroom, and Ginny felt a stab of satisfaction. Pretending to be in a good mood was one way of getting even with Malfoy, particularly since he looked worse than she did! She had awoke that morning to the sound of Madam Pomfrey lecturing Draco on the benefits of a good night’s sleep, and had looked over to see him propped up against his pillow, staring stonily at the nurse with bloodshot eyes.
Practically the same position he’d been in the night before. Ginny wondered if perhaps he’d been having nightmares too, but was still too angry at him to ask or care. Madam Pomfrey interrupted her thoughts by coming over to examine her head.

“That’ll fade in no time, Miss Weasley,” she said reassuringly. “Just don’t turn your head too quickly today, as it still might be tender.”

Ginny promised to be careful as Draco came walking out of the washroom. She took her leave then, wanting to get to her room and bed as soon as possible. She had just closed the door behind her when she heard her name, and looking down the corridor, saw Ron and Harry coming towards her. She smiled and hurried over to them.

“Are you all right?” Ron asked anxiously, giving her a hug.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s just a bruise.”

“What did you think you were doing?” Harry scowled. “You might have been seriously hurt!”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed angrily. “Don’t you dare lecture me, Harry Potter! The pot is not allowed to call the kettle black!”

It was Harry’s turn to look taken aback. He and Ron exchanged amazed looks, and then Ron began to laugh. “Yeah, ok. She’s right, you know. Now we know how everyone else feels when we go off!”

Harry laughed too. “All right, sorry sis, just got carried away. We were really worried, is all.”

Sis, Ginny thought. That’s all I’ll ever be to you. She felt the familiar ache in her heart, but for the first time she realized it didn’t hurt as badly as before. Her soul was healing and she was finally moving on. The knowledge lifted her spirits a bit more, allowing her to return their smiles.

“All right, I forgive you,” she said lightly, “Heavens! I never could stay angry at the two of you, though you’re not as much fun as Fred and George.”

They all laughed at that, and Ginny hugged Harry tightly. At that moment, the infirmary door opened and Malfoy walked out, freezing momentarily at the sight of them. Ginny was still smiling as she turned towards the sound, but sobered instantly when her eyes met Draco’s flushed and furious expression.

“Morning Malfoy,” Ron cried jovially, “Heard you had a run in with a werewolf. Pity it didn’t have you for supper!”

The ugly red weals were still visible, and Draco’s hand flew to his neck.

“Goodness, in your jammies even!” Harry snickered. “Would have been bloody stylish, wouldn’t it, to have died in such fine silk!”

“Stop it!” Ginny reproved them quietly, “It’s not funny.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Weasley.” Draco said even more quietly. His glare grew cold as ice as he turned and swept down the hall.

“Well good day to you, too, milord!” Ron guffawed, causing Harry to snort derisively.

“Boys, stop it!” Ginny hissed, feeling guilt squeeze her heart. Ron and Harry turned to her, still grinning with pleasure.

“Sorry, Gin, but he’s had that coming for a long time!” Harry said with great satisfaction.

“You don’t understand,” she said softly, her brow furrowed, “It was horrible! That thing almost killed him. It isn’t funny, even if it is Draco Malfoy.”

The boys stopped laughing and looked at her. She was clenching and unclenching her hands, staring into the distance with remembered fear. Ron put his arm around her.

“Sorry sis, you’ve been through something awful and we’re being insensitive.”

“Come on,” Harry smiled gently, “Let’s get you some breakfast!”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, “And afterwards, Hogsmeade!”

“Really, you mean that?” she asked, smiling with pleasure finally. Ron and Harry almost always went alone, or with Hermione in tow.

“Of course, it’ll be fun!” Harry grinned. “Besides, you’ll get to hang out with Cho finally. She’s been dying to get to know you better.”

Ginny suddenly felt as if she’d swallowed a hot potato. All that mess about her getting over Harry suddenly flew out the nearest window. Hang out with them? See them together for a whole day? Impossible!

“Well, actually…I’m still a bit tired-“

“Aw, come on Ginny, it’ll be great!” Ron said excitedly, “And Susan’s been bouncing off the walls since she heard, you know. She made us promise we’d bring you with us today since she and Seamus have already gone.”

“Susan? Oh…” It seemed she was trapped. The world spun as Harry took her elbow and began to pull her along.

“It’ll be fun, you’ll see.” He smiled. “And it’ll take your mind off of things.”

Ginny looked up at him and held his eyes for a moment. They were warm with affection and concern, and something else, too. Guilt. Guilt at having left her feelings unanswered and unfulfilled, at never saying anything to her, not even to let her down. He dropped his eyes and laughed softly.

“Come on, we’ll have a good time.”

Ginny produced a smile and allowed herself to be led away. Despite their assurances of fun, she didn’t believe she had anything to look forward to.

***********************

Draco swept into his dorm room and flung himself on his bed, pulling the drapes closed on Goyle and Crabbe’s puzzled expressions. His head was pounding and he felt his chest tightening. His breath wheezed in and out of his throat painfully and his nose was stuffed up. Great, a cold. That was all he needed on top of everything else. He pressed his face into the pillow, hoping it would cool his feverish skin. What he needed was rest, something he hadn’t gotten all night. Why? Because he’d spent it staring at that red headed bint, that stupid little girl who was still hopelessly in love with that blind idiot, Potter. What the hell had gotten into him? Draco snorted in disgust and turned over, pulling the pillow over his face and squeezing his eyes shut. What he needed was sleep, forgetfulness. Maybe he’d be able to banish the image of Weasley practically snogging that scarred idiot.

“Er…Draco?” It was Crabbe. “We’re going to Hogsmeade; you said you wanted to come.”

Why didn’t the other idiots ever learn to recognize his need for solitude?

“Changed my mind,” Draco snapped. “I don’t feel well!”

“Oh, that’s probably just as well,” Goyle said darkly. “Jared’s saying you’ll probably be wetting yourself forever since you saw that werewolf!”

Draco bolted upright and tore the bed curtain aside. “What?”

Both Crabbe and Goyle reeled back slightly, their faces at once scared and bemused. After a moment, Goyle spoke.

“A…a werewolf. You mean it’s true, you really saw one?” They stared at him with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Draco growled. “Now why is that moron saying I’ll wet myself?”

But Crabbe was now staring at Draco’s neck with wide eyes. “It bit you?”

“Yes!” Malfoy shouted, throwing his pillow on the floor, then suddenly recovering, “I mean, no! It didn’t break the skin, I’m not a werewolf.”

But both of them had backed away from him, fear plastered all over their stupid, puffy faces. Draco longed to find a Bludger.

“When a werewolf bites you, it has to make you bleed or the Curse doesn’t take effect,” Draco explained with forced calm. They said nothing, just continued to look at him stupidly. Not for the first time, Draco secretly wished he could transplant the intelligence of Granger or Ron Weasley into the nimrods! He slowly raised his head, till they had a clear view of his neck, and he spoke even more slowly.

“See? The skin is red from where its teeth b-…er, hit me. But the skin didn’t open, I didn’t bleed. So I am not a werewolf.”

Crabbe and Goyle bent forward stiffly; as if afraid he’d turn into a shaggy wolf at any moment. Squinting, they examined Draco’s neck while he felt his muscles stiffen and begin to cramp. His irritation meter was beginning to go off, but he didn’t want the two buffoons spreading any more rumors than were apparently already in circulation. So he held still while they stared and stared at his neck. Finally, Goyle straightened and gave a goofy smile.

“Boy, that was close!” he grinned.

Yes, it had been close. So very nice of Gregory to state the incredibly obvious. What had he done to deserve such friends?

You accepted their fawning, as your father has done with theirs, said a voice in his mind. Draco blinked, wondering why he’d actually answered his own rhetoric. They served him and defended him. That was simply the way of it. He shook himself from these musings as Crabbe reiterated his invitation to Hogsmeade. Draco stared at them, and then spoke.

“What was Jared prattling on about?”

Goyle blinked stupidly, and then suddenly remembered. “Oh! He was saying it was something you made up, till Snape said it was true. Now he’s telling everyone that you’re probably going to leave the school and hide out for the rest of your life.”

Crabbe sniggered. “He said, ‘Malfoy’s cryin’ and I’m not lyin’.”

They both guffawed until, turning to Draco, they saw he wasn’t laughing. Their expressions fell immediately. Draco’s eyes flashed and he ground out his next words menacingly.

“That…idiot…called me names! And you…laughed!”

“Er…” Crabbe eloquently defended himself. “Um…” Goyle added.

Draco began to pace the floor, his blood pumping hard and his mind seething with fury. Jared was talking shit! That meant that his image had suffered because of the werewolf incident. It wasn’t bad enough that he had gone through a hell of terror beneath that monster, oh no! Every power hungry weasel was now salivating at the thought of bringing him down and taking his place. Admittedly, power at school wasn’t much, but the position it afforded was. The aura of favor you held would open doors later in life. Especially for ambitious seventh years who thirsted for power.

Damn! All the power in the school and he couldn’t manage to get a decent few hours of sleep. Not that it mattered now. Draco was too angry to be tired. He would put in an appearance at Hogsmeade and blast all of those rumors to bits, and maybe Jared Stone’s head as well.

“I’ll be ready in twenty minutes,” he snapped. “Wait for me in the common room.”

Crabbe and Goyle obediently scuttled out as Draco yanked his trunk open and began tearing through it for something sufficient to wear.

******************

Hermione smiled gently at Ginny as they walked towards Honeydukes. Ron was laughing in happy anticipation, while Harry and Cho smiled and shook their heads at his excitement. A trip to Honeydukes was always on Ron’s wish list, and he never failed to spend too much money there.

“How are you?” Hermione asked Ginny quietly, squeezing her hand. Ginny smiled bravely and nodded.

“I’m fine, really. This has been fun!”

Susan, who was on Ginny’s other side and holding hands with Seamus, muttered softly, “Are you sure?”

Damn it, Susan! Ginny thought irritably. She didn’t need her best friend analyzing her constantly. Susan seemed to get the message, as she smiled apologetically and squeezed her other hand. Ginny smiled back, and then turned to Hermione. “It’s all right, I’m perfectly fine.”

There was a small line between Hermione’s brows, but she accepted Ginny’s answer. The trouble was that, although Ginny had laughed and smiled with them the whole day, Hermione could see the strain around her eyes. Harry and Cho had been almost nauseatingly affectionate by holding hands, kissing sweetly here and there, and talking nose to nose half the time. And Ginny had endured it all with either an averted gaze or a plastic smile. Harry had never acted so idiotic as far as Hermione could remember. Seeing it all the time was definitely going to cause cavities. Her parents would not be pleased!

They had browsed Gladrags, walked through Dervish and Banges, where Ron had looked for a new set of scales. From there it had been a parade of small shops and window shopping. Hermione bought a used book from a small bookshop entitled Family and Career, How the Modern Witch Can Have It All. Ron had snorted, saying that since Hermione would most likely be an Auror she wouldn’t have time to get married. She bashed him in the arm with the book. Now it was time for sweets, but Ginny couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to get away, to find a Harry/Cho free place to calm the turbulence in her mind. She stopped in front of the entrance to Honeydukes and announced that she would join them in a moment.

“What?” Harry asked, surprised. Everyone turned around to look enquiringly at her, so she hastily pointed to a beauty parlor two buildings down.

“I’m thinking of doing something with my hair,” she said quickly. “I thought I’d just see what was available.”

“Oh, I’ll come with you!” Hermione said brightly. “I don’t feel like candy right now. Why don’t we all meet up at the Three Broomsticks in an hour?”

“That’s an excellent idea! I need a bit of shampoo myself,” Susan declared, waking over to them. Seamus smiled and decided to stay with the group.

Ron shrugged. “Okay. Just don’t do anything drastic, like cut your hair short or something.”

“Ron!” Hermione sniffed as she and Ginny began to walk away, “As if I would!”

“Have fun!” Harry called after them.

“Thanks!” Ginny murmured as they approached the shop, Your New Beauty.

“It’s all right,” Hermione smiled at her knowingly. “I had to get away from all that sappy romance too. I was beginning to get queasy!”

“Get used to it,” Susan said wryly. “Being in such close proximity is going to have its drawbacks!”

Ginny giggled in spite of her pain. “I thought it was just me!”

Susan grinned. “Of course not, I could feel myself getting wired on a sugar overload!”

Hermione laughed as they walked into the shop. The strong smell of various hair care potions struck them immediately and Ginny felt a bit nauseous. Looking around, she began to idly wander down an isle. Hermione walked next to her, picking up a bottle of Sleek EZ’s potion, while Susan darted over to the shampoos.

“Right, now I need some curling stuff!” Hermione eyed the next shelf, then walked down a bit further and grabbed a violet bottle with a pink label. “Are you going to get anything?”

Ginny smiled and shook her head. “I still have my straightening potion and it works all right.”

Hermione looked at Ginny with penetrating eyes. “Not over him, are you?” she asked softly.

Ginny blushed, pained at being such an open book. “Not as much as I’d like to be. But that will come in time.”

Yes, Hermione thought, unless you decide to take a more active stance. She thought of Ron and her own troubles with him.

“That’s the right attitude. You’re a lot stronger than you know. Besides, I don’t think this affair will last long.”

To her surprise, Ginny nodded sadly. “Cho is a very nice girl. She’s smart, pretty, and not caught up in his fame. It’ll be Harry who ruins or ends it.”

“What makes you say that?”

Ginny raised her enormous eyes to Hermione and answered with the simplest, most poignant honesty. “Harry is the sweetest, most self sacrificing person I know. But he doesn’t know how to reveal himself. That’ll get in the way. And he’ll eventually realize that his hormones can’t choose his life partner.”

Hermione stared, wondering at Ginny’s insight. But before she could ask her to elaborate, Ginny suddenly smiled and took the purple bottle.

“This is curling stuff? Does it work?”

“Oh yes! It’s really wonderful. Most stuff I buy leaves my hair feeling sticky, but this one -- it’s called Madam Fiona’s Curling Serum -- doesn’t. It’s a handy de-tangler too!”

Ginny laughed spontaneously and handed the bottle back. “You sound like an advertisement!”

“That’s not surprising, since she memorizes everything she reads!” Susan joined them, chortling. Hermione assumed an expression of mock hurt.

“That’s not true; I haven’t been able to memorize all of Most Potente Potions.”

“That’s because they won’t let you take it out of the library anymore!” Ginny giggled.

The girls stood laughing as a pretty shop witch walked up to them with a smile. “Is there anything I can help you find, ladies? A product you might be interested in?”

“Oh, I’m all right,” Ginny said. Susan concurred, but Hermione suddenly smiled mischievously.

“Actually, I understand you give product demonstrations. Would it be possible to get one now?”

The shop witch was eager to comply. And Ginny found, to her horror, that she was the guinea pig when Hermione looked at her meaningfully, holding up the purple bottle of curling serum.

“I’m Louise,” the beauty witch introduced herself, herding the girls over to a small chair and table laden with various potions and make-up products. “What would you like to see?”

Susan, who’d cottoned on, grabbed Ginny’s arm and said, “Our friend here would like to see how well Madam Fiona’s curling serum works. Nice, spiral curls, I think!”

Ginny blanched, but before she could say or do anything, Hermione had grabbed her other arm and added: “I think that would be lovely, especially gathered behind her head, perhaps. It would give a kind of waterfall effect!”

Louise smiled, delighted with this idea. “Oh miss, allow me to say that your hair would be lovely in curls!”

Ginny was seated in the chair and her head tipped back into the sink before she could protest. Susan grinned and whispered, “You need to do something for yourself! Come on, let’s have some fun!”

Louise chattered about all the possibilities of hair potions, as her ministering hands began to relax Ginny, who realized Susan was right. The day hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought, but why walk around being depressed? A little beauty parlor visit wasn’t going to do her any harm. It was time to loosen up and have some fun! Especially after the week she’d had. She began to chatter with Louise, asking for tips and such. Susan requested a facial when Louise was done with Ginny, and Hermione, getting into the spirit, requested a make-up demonstration. They truly began to have fun...

Draco walked along the cobbled street, Pansy Parkinson on his arm. Her chatter was a grating buzz in his ears, and her continual remarks about everyone and everything was enough to make him want to toss her into the next puddle of mud.

Still, he needed her at the moment. He’d run into her and Millicent Bulstrode as they were all leaving the common room. He had a nasty feeling she’d been waiting for him, so he could accompany them. Pansy was clever when she needed to be, especially when it came to her goal of snagging Draco Malfoy as her husband. But it had helped to be seen with her. Several Slytherins had commenced to murmuring when he’d appeared in the common room. A few had even laughed openly. But this had quieted as he looked about coldly, giving off his air of icy composure and hidden, steely resolve. He was wearing his Slytherin scarf, so the bite marks were not visible. That hadn’t stopped questions from coming at him from several students they’d passed. And the questions had continued from housemates he’d run into. He’d answered coldly that yes, he’d been attacked, but no, he hadn’t been bitten. Crabbe and Goyle had simply nodded in agreement. And this had worked out fine: everyone knew they wouldn’t lie about it, but asking them to explain would be like asking a two year old to point out the constellations.

Being seen about with Pansy Parkinson was normal. It was expected. So he endured it, and felt relief when his housemates walked up to him to talk more and more frequently. He even got greetings from students in other houses, which he’d acknowledge with a nod of his silver-blond head. That was unusual, of them and of him. But he was too tired to be Malfoy the Bastard today. It was all he could do to maintain Malfoy the Magnificent.

“Oh Draco, let’s go to Gladrags! I need a new dress! And I could show you that wonderful black shirt, with the silver buttons I was telling you about!” Pansy squealed, once again knocking his thoughts off track.

“Don’t you have enough dresses?” he asked coldly. But Pansy didn’t notice, and began to tug him towards the shop. He was SO not in the mood to try anything on! He allowed himself to be dragged there anyway, as an argument with her would only ruin the day’s work and drain what little strength he had left.

The inside of the shop was crowded with other students, mostly girls from the various houses, though there were witches on holiday as well. A trip to Gladrags was always at the top of their to-do lists. Draco pulled away from Pansy as she and Millicent, who didn’t look any happier about being there than he was, began to flit around the shop.

Draco went to a small corner containing racks of leather cloaks and full length coats. One was a very nice full length trench coat, with a double breasted, four button front, nice deep pockets for hiding stuff, and a zip out fur lining. It looked rather macho, and Draco grinned. He suddenly remembered a picture he’d seen of a man on a motorcycle in a Muggle magazine. He’d actually been admiring it until his mother had snatched the magazine out of his hands and had had one of the butlers throw it away. She’d lectured him for an hour about “that unseemly Muggle garbage”, and her eyes had been darting around fearfully. Draco had later understood that his father might have found out and there would have been hell to pay. After all, there was always hell to pay when Draco did something wrong.

His eyes were strangely unfocused as he thought of this, several memories suddenly rising up at once. Draco had failed to fly his broomstick the way his father had shown him to the first time, and he’d been slapped across the face. Then there was the summer holiday after his second year at Hogwarts, when he’d failed to help Slytherin defeat Gryffindor. Draco had endured a whole summer of acidic remarks, and comparisons to Mudbloods and, worse, Muggles.

“Perhaps you should consider that Hermione Granger as a future wife. You’ve sunk beneath even her level, but you could raise her fortunes nicely, so I’m sure she could be prevailed upon to have you…We’re having some new business associates over for dinner, try not to call to much attention to our blood ties. I want to make a favorable impression…”

Lucius always had a snide insult, always comparing him to another student or an associate’s child. Never a kind word, unless it was to bribe him into doing something. But Draco had learned to get what he wanted with loud tantrums and stubborn demands. It increased his father’s willingness to shut him up by any means necessary. Once again, Draco felt his face tighten and his stomach clench. At least his father would look at him then…

What I felt, what I’ve known
Never shined through in what I’ve shown
Never be, never see
Won’t see what might have been
What I felt, all I’ve known
Never shined through in what I’ve shown
Never see, never me
So I dub thee Unforgiven….

Draco listened, wondering if the music was in his mind, or outside of him. He closed his eyes, seeing Lucius Malfoy before him in a rare moment of happiness. That is, until he remembered why…

“Well boy, you made it! I’ve got your letter for Hogwarts right here. The way you’ve been ruining your spells recently, I’d begun to wonder if I’d produced a defective heir…”

“May I help you sir?” A young sales wizard suddenly appeared at his elbow, smiling brightly.

Draco didn’t look at him, didn’t change expression, and didn’t even blink. “I’ll take this. Have it delivered to Hogwarts School, to Draco Malfoy of Slytherin House.”

The sales wizard was only too happy to help. Once they ascertained that it fit him, the transaction was quickly concluded, to the tune of two hundred and fifty galleons. Not very expensive, Draco thought absently. He turned to see Pansy sidling up to him.

“Draco! Did you buy me something?” She smiled eagerly.

“No,” he replied blandly. Her expression fell slightly, but she recovered almost immediately.

“I just bought a new dress, perhaps I can show it to you?”

Draco looked at her, his patience with her at an end. “I’m thirsty. Let’s get a drink.”

He didn’t stop to see Pansy’s expression, or to note if anyone else agreed. He simply walked out. Bastard mode was hitting, which meant everything was normal. The tapping of several feet hurrying to catch up with him confirmed this, and he smirked in a very satisfied way.

****************

“I’m serious Ginny, you’re beautiful!” Susan gushed as they walked in the cold autumn air towards the Three Broomsticks. “I think everyone’s going to faint!”

“All right Susan, I believe you!” Ginny laughed. Her hair had been done into lovely spiral curls and, as Hermione suggested, pulled up in a knot to spill down her back. They fluttered delicately, glossy and sleek. They had all had a make-over, and Ginny in particular was really feeling confident and pretty. She looked admiringly at Hermione who looked lovely, her eyes darkened slightly and her lips touched with a warm rose color. Susan positively glowed: the shades of blue upon her lids made her eyes seem very large and bright, and the subtle pink shades that dusted her cheeks and lips gave them a pleasing shape. They all were looking forward to showing off their new looks, however temporary they might be, and walked quickly to Madam Rosmerta’s place.

Walking inside, they received a lot of stares from other students. Parvati Patil and her sister were sitting nearest the door, with two Ravenclaw boys. All four jaws dropped. Hermione was irritated, and reminded of the unflattering stares the other girls had given her at the Yule Ball in their fourth year.

“Be careful,” she said acidly, “insects might fly right into your mouths!”

Susan sniggered and they walked on in, spotting Ron and Harry waving at them. As they approached the table, the boys’ jaws dropped as well. Ron, in particular, seemed stunned, and he stared exclusively at Hermione. Seamus hugged and kissed Susan, telling her she looked beautiful. Ginny smiled at that, and then turned to Harry. He was smiling at her in a dazed sort of way.

“Wow!” he said, “You look wonderful!”

Cho, who was sitting next to him, smiled warmly too. “I always knew you’d look great in curls! Susan’s always said so.”

“Thank you.” Ginny blushed, feeling more magnanimous towards Cho. She was still feeling that empty ache, but she was determined not to let it ruin what was left of the day.

“Ginny!” Ron exclaimed, “Why are you wearing make up?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, let’s see. Because she’s sixteen and it’s allowed?”

Ron frowned. “You didn’t wear make up at sixteen,” he pointed out.

“No, I was fifteen. When Viktor Krum asked me to the Ball, remember?” Hermione replied. Ron shut up.

“Well,” Harry said lightly, changing the subject, “you had fun then? Did you see anyone?”

Hermione replied that they hadn’t, and Susan asked if they had seen Rita Dorn, the Ravenclaw Prefect, as she knew she would love to see the array of supplies at the beauty store. Talk then turned to more general subjects, as a waitress came and took their orders. Butterbeer and a cup of soup for Ron, who was feeling a bit hungry. She listened to the chatter as she waited for her drink. Ron, of course, had also made a stop at Fred and George’s joke shop, Wacky Clandestine, which was doing extremely well. He’d loaded up on Dungbombs, which were still his favorite gag, and also bought Exploding Snaps. When her drink arrived, Ginny sipped it thoughtfully. Harry was joining in the general conversation but he seemed to look at her far more than usual. Instead of feeling happy, she felt confusion squeezing in the pit of her stomach. It was only a few looks, after all. His hand was still tightly laced through Cho’s and he seemed more surprised than anything. She knew that continuing to pine was ridiculous, but she saw him every day. And while she felt that her feelings were finally lessening, her attention was still caught by him very easily. What did it all mean? She wondered if she would ever be free of these emotions that continued to come out of nowhere and disturb her piece of mind.

An image of Draco flashed unbidden into her mind, making her freeze. She could see him clearly, hear his voice low and cool in her ears. She remembered him at his worst, his cold, gray eyes almost empty of life, his thin mouth curled in a sneer. Then she recalled his appearance the night before, his hair falling into his face as he looked at her with deep fascination, pale cheeks flushed, and his expression soft and almost warm. Then there was the terror that had invaded his being, visible on his face as they were propelled to the infirmary by Snape. So many different emotions had come over him, emotions she had never seen in him and had not imagined he could feel. The scene in the library came flooding back, when they had stared each other down. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered how he’d seemed to reach out to her, almost as if he wanted to push past the barrier between them and….

And what? This was ridiculous. She shook herself and tried to attend to the conversation, just in time to hear Seamus growl:

“Speak of the devil!”

Ginny blinked, turning towards the door. Draco Malfoy was walking in, Pansy Parkinson on his arm. They were closely followed by Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode.

“Well, here’s a group that ought to be penciled in for a visit from the Angel of Death!” Ron quipped, causing Seamus and Harry to snigger. Hermione dismissed them, and was turning back to the table when Ginny caught her attention. She was sitting straight in her chair, looking over at Draco with a very angry expression. Puzzled, Hermione looked again. Draco was settling at a large table, looking bored and a tad restless. Everyone sat down, and Pansy immediately began to hang on Draco with her eager smiles and, doubtless, annoying chatter. A look back at Ginny startled Hermione. Her expression had gone from angry to enraged.

She touched Ginny’s hand, startling her. Hermione silently inclined her head towards Malfoy’s group, her eyes enquiring. Ginny smiled with nervous embarrassment and took a hasty drink of her Butterbeer. Then she leaned towards Hermione to whisper, and noticed Susan leaning with her. She looked at her friend, realizing that she had noticed her odd behavior too. Oh, for the love of Merlin!

“Sorry,” she whispered to them both, “I just hate…that Pansy. She uses him, you know.” It was the only excuse she could think of.

“He uses her back, so what?” Susan whispered. “You said yourself he was a bastard to you, after you saved his life and all!”

“Susan, you know perfectly well that saving someone’s life makes you feel a tad obligated to them,” Hermione whispered soothingly. She smiled encouragingly at Ginny. “Ginny has a right to express her opinion, and I’m sure the obligation aspect is temporary.”

Ginny smiled back, feeling stupid and oddly guilty. Why should she feel guilty? She hadn’t lied exactly, she did hate Pansy Parkinson! Hated the way she dressed, hated the way she talked, hated the way she was hanging all over Draco. She was an obvious, gold digging, status hungry slut! Ginny could not believe Draco was unable to see right through her!

What in the world was she thinking! I don’t care, it’s his life! She shook herself and tried to steady her suddenly trembling hands. Draco Malfoy was a cold hearted, evil bastard. He deserved Pansy, as she deserved him. Ginny resolutely took a healthy swig from her bottle and ordered another, hoping that if Pansy married him he would suddenly discover that she was really a man in drag!

Draco was looking idly about the Pub, letting Pansy and Millicent fill the silence with their chatter and allowing Pansy to put her arms around him. It was necessary, for now. He just wanted to make sure they were seen everywhere, in case anyone still had any doubts. Nothing soothes doubt better than seeing exactly what you expect to see. He hadn’t allowed this privilege to Pansy for awhile, as it usually put her voice right in his ear and that annoyed him to no end. But this trip would soon be over. One drink and they were going back to Hogwarts. He’d made his point, he was perfectly fine. He couldn’t wait to leave and get back to his bed.

As his eyes roamed the Pub, he spotted Potter and his group. They all seemed really happy with each other, talking and laughing. He never had much of a chance to do that, certainly not with his brilliant friends Crabbe and Goyle. Then he saw Ginny, did a double take, and stared. Her hair… she’d done something with her hair. Now it streamed in loose ringlets down her back, catching the light of the fire and giving off its own glow. She turned to Hermione, and he saw her face was made up very nicely too. Her eyes, already big and lovely, seemed more beautiful than ever, the light blush on her cheeks adding a glow to her complexion which was enhanced by the soft shade of her lips. So red, a lovely cool red, like holly berries. Soft and pouty, tasting of honey and Butterbeer…

Draco felt his heart beat faster, and found himself wanting to walk over and kiss her. Kiss those soft, berry lips and taste the warmth of her mouth. He felt himself grow warm, his skin burned and his stomach began to flutter. What’s happening to me? He wondered distractedly. What am I feeling?

“Good afternoon, Draco!” A soft, cold voice suddenly sliced through his heady desires. Draco started, looking up to find Stone sneering down at him.

Draco felt anger coursing through him, but his expression cleared in an instant as he leaned lazily back in his chair to regard Stone. Pansy removed herself from Draco, suddenly looking tense. Crabbe and Goyle started to stand, but with a gesture Draco stopped them, and they resumed their seats.

“Hello Jared,” he drawled. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Though Stone was smiling, Draco could tell he wasn’t pleased. The rumors he’d started had fizzled out and now here Malfoy was, looking in excellent health and frightened of nothing. He was angry and wanted to get back at Malfoy somehow. Draco kept his eyes trained on Jared, but didn’t discount the little band of thugs behind him: three fifth years whose names Draco tended to forget. Crabbe and Goyle could flatten them -- they had before -- but it wasn’t as easy as it usually was. They were big and burly themselves. Just not as big as Draco’s friends.

“I guess the Potion Master lied then? You weren’t bitten by a werewolf?” Stone began nastily. Draco’s eyes narrowed.

“I truly doubt those were the Potion Master’s words.” He waved his hand airily. “I was attacked, not bitten. Perhaps your skull is too thick to tell the difference between the two.”

Stone’s face went white with fury.

“Tell me,” he hissed, “who had to save you? A werewolf is a formidable enemy, and we all know you don’t have the skill to take one on!”

Draco relaxed. He was used to jealousy, even from the children of other Death Eaters. Stone was no different than anyone else.

“Stone, I don’t have time for your pettiness,” he said, remembering Ginny’s words to him. “You aren’t worth a dog’s attention, much less my own. Please do the rest of us a favor and dig in someone else’s closet for bones!”

Crabbe and Goyle snickered, while Pansy let out a high pitched titter. Jared’s hand began to twitch.

“Careful Stone,” Draco said mildly, “there are teachers here today, and not a few Aurors. Attacking me would look very bad for you…and your family.”

Draco’s eyes locked with Stone’s, and once again Stone backed down. But he wasn’t finished.

“I hear they have the creature locked in a shed and that Dumbledore’s going to attempt to question it.” Stone’s eyes glittered with malice. “It will be interesting to discover why it didn’t kill you, Malfoy!”

And with that he swept off, leaving Draco to stare after his retreating back and wonder if the whole world was going to shit.

****************

Harry watched curiously as Jared Stone walked out of the pub, Malfoy sneering at his retreating figure. He wondered what had passed between them and if it had anything to do with the attack on the school. He knew they’d been talking about the werewolf, because Stone’s parting shot had been audible even from their table. What exactly did Stone, or Malfoy, know?

The ideal person to ask was Ginny, but she was wearing an almost dangerous expression on her face at the moment. Two years of living with the Weasleys had taught Harry that Ginny was a lot like her mother. Sweet, kind, gentle, loving, but with a temper that would frighten trolls! He’d been on the receiving end of her wrath a few times, crush or no. It wasn’t pleasant, and he tried to avoid it at all cost. He’d ask her later, once she got over whatever was bothering her.

He thought about the moment he’d seen Ginny come in The Three Broomsticks earlier that afternoon, allowing his surprise at her beauty to wash over him again. He supposed he shouldn’t be so astonished, seeing that she was sixteen now and growing into a woman. Still, she’d been like a sister to him for years. Her crush had sometimes discomfited him, and he knew he should have spoken to her about it before. But what in the world could he have said that wouldn’t have sounded mean and insulting?

I’m sorry Ginny, but I’m in love already…Oh yes, that would have gone over nicely! Ginny, you’re a wonderful person, but I just don’t love you.
No matter how he phrased it, he sounded insensitive and condescending. She didn’t need that. What else could he have done?

He sneaked a glance at her again. She and Susan had their heads together, and Susan was whispering something funny judging from the smile Ginny was trying to hold back. He was sorry that he’d ever pained her, but really, was he responsible? He thought of the words he’d overheard Ginny and Susan saying only a few days before. He’d gone to check the entrance to the Whomping Willow and set some supplies on the inside of it. On his way back, he’d seen Ginny and Susan sitting near the lake, right in the direction he’d been heading. He hadn’t wanted to be seen, lest they should ask him what he was up to. So he’d decided to sneak past them, and had unfortunately heard everything they’d said about him and Cho and Ginny’s feelings. He’d felt horrible, more so because he’d been eavesdropping on a private conversation and had heard things he really hadn’t wanted to. As soon as he could, he’d peeled off from behind the tree and headed for the castle to think. No matter how hard he’d thought it over, however, he hadn’t seen what else he could have done.

Maybe what was really bothering him was the fact that he was the bad guy in this little love scenario and he just couldn’t stand the idea. He felt a flash of irritation at the thought, but couldn’t deny its merit. He hadn’t asked to be her dream boy, but neither had he done anything to squelch her ideas about him. He looked over at Ron, wondering if he’d ever noticed or thought ill of him because of it. If he had, he’d never said anything about it, seeming to prefer to let the situation handle itself. For this, Harry was profoundly grateful.

He checked his watch. Four o’clock. Looking out one of the windows, he noticed thick, heavy clouds moving in. Snow perhaps? It was time to get back to the castle. He looked around the table and said as much, clasping Cho’s hand as he stood. He caught Ron’s eye as everyone shuffled around for their scarves and cloaks, and nodded slightly. Ron understood immediately and silently communicated the same message to Hermione, who caught his eye and inclined her head in Malfoy’s direction. Ron responded with a shrug. There would be time enough to discuss this once they returned to Hogwarts. As soon as they returned to the castle, they would have to set about getting to the shed. Lupin would be there; indeed, he was probably already there. They’d see him soon, and hopefully find out why everything had gone so horribly wrong with their plan.

“Hey Harry, we’ll see you at dinner. I want to take Susan to Mr. Bandine’s,” Seamus told him as he helped Susan into her cloak. Harry nodded and smiled, knowing that Susan was probably about to get the surprise of her life. Bandine’s was the finest maker of enchanted necklaces, rings, and various other jewelry in Hogsmeade. Ginny gasped and hugged Susan, who was beaming, as soon as Seamus let her go. Hmmm, maybe Susan wouldn’t be surprised after all!

Once outside, Seamus and Susan headed off to the jeweler’s and the rest of the party trooped back to Hogwarts. Ron fell back to walk next to Hermione, and she smiled almost shyly at him. Harry fervently hoped that Hermione’s new appearance would be Ron’s impetus to finally resolve his unspoken feelings for her. He didn’t think he could take much more of his friend’s angry, yet clueless, jealousy whenever another guy at school paid Hermione any attention. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Cho smiling at him.

“Where are you?” she laughed softly. “You seem miles away!”

He laughed too and kissed her gently. “I’m sorry, just thinking about stuff. I haven’t studied for that test on Monday; I’m going to have to get cracking once we get back.”

Cho nodded, saying nothing. He felt bad about the lie but he, Ron, and Hermione had to get to the shed and see that werewolf. They had agreed that the Wolfsbane would be in full effect by that evening, so entering would be relatively safe. Harry still couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. The three of them had made it down to the Whomping Willow to meet Lupin and a friend of his, also a werewolf. They had waited for an hour in the chilly air, and Harry vividly recalled his unease as the time for the meeting had passed, and neither Lupin nor anyone else had arrived. Then they’d heard that chilling howl from the forest, followed moments later by Lupin in wolf--tamer than he would usually have been because of the Wolfsbane Potion--form clambering over to them. He’d been alone, and had whined and whuffed desperately. Harry had taken this to mean that his friend’s absence was a bad thing, and they set about trying to track him down.

They had only searched for a short time, however, when that terrifying howl had come floating down the wind from the castle itself. Flinging aside caution , the four of them had dashed back to find Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore guiding a floating stretcher to a sturdy shed outside of Hagrid’s house. Dumbledore had sent Lupin directly to his office, telling him that McGonagall would be waiting there to let him in. Then they had heard the news about Ginny and Draco. Harry had almost been sick, and was hardly calmed by finding out that Ginny was “just fine”. Draco’s condition, however, had been a different story. Harry had been rather disappointed to learn that Ginny had actually saved him from the wolf. If it had been me, he thought, I’d have let the stupid git take his chances while I went for help. The thought almost made him chortle, even as he recognized its untruth. He might think of, and wish for, all sorts of horrible fates to await Malfoy, but in Ginny’s place he would have done exactly the same. He thought of Cedric, and of the echo he had heard of his parents whenever he had been near a Dementor. He was too well acquainted with death to truly wish it on anyone. Though, if ever there was a person who deserved such a fate, it was Malfoy. It still made Harry’s hackles rise when he remembered how callously he’d spoken of Cedric’s death, and how gleeful he’d been about the Dark Lord’s return.

Instead of wishing death on Malfoy, Harry thought, perhaps he should wish on him a chronic case of genital itching. Or, better yet, life with the not so lovely Pansy Parkinson. He was half way to that one already, and Harry almost felt sorry for the moron. Almost.

****************


“Draco, you really need a haircut,” Pansy was saying, fingering the growth of silver blond hair that was touching his collar as they entered the Slytherin common room.

That did it!

“Pansy, you really need to swallow super glue!”

Ha! That had felt extremely good! Draco swept away from Pansy and almost ran up the stairs to his dorm, leaving her standing open-mouthed and stiff with anger. An almost perfect end to an almost disastrous day! The only thing he needed now was sleep, glorious sleep. Every muscle in his body ached and his eyes felt like burning coals. He looked forward to sliding into bed with an appreciation he’d only ever felt after Quidditch practice. As he reached the top of the stairs, he approached a group of girls in deep conversation. One of them was Frieda Lawson, the Superior Slytherfemme. He smirked slightly at her back, wondering what diabolical conspiracies she was imagining now. Get a life, Lawson! He thought wryly.

As he moved closer, he began to hear snatches of their conversation.

“…the Headmaster is going to question it, and soon! He’ll probably try tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest,” Frieda was saying.

“Why does this concern you, Frieda?” Judy, another seventh year femme, asked.

“Because, idiot, it might know everything! It might even have been behind the attack!” Frieda snapped. “Who knows what it might reveal! And before you tell me that my theory is ridiculous, allow me to remind you of a potion called Wolfsbane.”

Draco had stopped walking. He was just close enough to hear the conversation but not be seen, as the girls stood with their backs to him.

“Frieda, this is all very interesting, but what’s it got to do with anything?” Judy asked irritably, obviously offended at being called an idiot. Frieda turned her head towards Judy and laughed softly.

“Don’t you see? The creature somehow gets inside the castle and makes straight for the son of Voldemort’s biggest supporter. And it happens on the heels of a mysterious explosion that could be construed as an attack on Harry Potter! Doesn’t that strike you as odd, an attack on Potter and Malfoy in the same day?”

“Wait, why would anyone think the explosion was aimed at Potter?” another girl asked. “He was outside, no where near the library or the Transfiguration classroom, or the corridor! And the explosion happened in a storage room!”

Frieda looked up. “No, he wasn’t there when the explosion went off. But he’d been in McGonagall’s classroom only ten minutes before, and the explosion was right next door!”

The girl who had asked the question nodded her head, but Judy frowned. “All of this is a bit of a stretch, Frieda. I’m not convinced you’re right. Draco wasn’t hurt, after all.”

Frieda sighed with exasperation and began moving down the hallway towards the door that led to the girls’ dorms. “That’s because you lack imagination, my dear. Someone else is trying to elbow their way in, I’m sure of it! I don’t know why Malfoy wasn’t hurt, but if I were him, or Potter, I’d watch my back!”

Judy made a face at Frieda’s turned head as the group disappeared through the door, leaving Draco to ponder what he’d just heard. Someone else was trying to elbow their way in? That made no sense! Frieda had always been rather melodramatic, but her statement gave Draco pause. He walked slowly to his dorm, recalling the explosion and the attack by the werewolf. On the issue of the explosion, Frieda was right. The room right next to McGonagall’s had been the one attacked. Draco pondered what this might mean as he reached his room and began to undress, picking up his discarded nightclothes from the floor as he did so. All right, he thought, the explosion came close on Potter’s heels, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was meant for him. The attack had been poorly timed, if Potter had been the target, and why set off the explosion in an empty room? Draco was no expert on explosives, but it hadn’t seemed to be a very big one. In fact, he had spoken briefly to a Slytherin who’d been in McGonagall’s class when it had gone off. Other than feeling the concussion and hearing a boom – not to mention being scared out of her wits -- no real harm had been done. It hadn’t even penetrated the wall. Not an effective attack at all, so that must not have been its purpose. What had been the purpose, then? To frighten? Yes, it had definitely frightened everyone, and caused the cancellation of classes and the Halloween party that night. But visits to Hogsmeade had still been permitted, which meant that Dumbledore was no longer worried for the students’ safety. Why? Just because he’d captured a werewolf didn’t mean he had a suspect, did it? The two events might not even be related.

Draco stared out his window, watching as the darkening sky began to release clouds of snowflakes. Perhaps they’d concluded that it had been an accident. This seemed more plausible than Dumbledore suspecting a werewolf of planting an explosive. But the headmaster was a sly one, and it was wise not to underestimate him. The fact that they’d been allowed out of the school might have hidden other motives, such as an extended investigation or the implementation of safeguards to make sure another attack wouldn’t hurt anyone. The first and second years had been restricted to their common rooms, after all, so they would have been relatively safe from harm. But if the attack had been meant as a weapon of fear, then had the actions of the headmaster been meant to thwart that fear? And what of the werewolf? How had it gotten into the castle? Frieda might have a point in thinking someone had deliberately let it in. It wouldn’t be the first time: Draco clearly remembered the troll that Professor Quirrell had let into the school during his first year at Hogwarts. But if that was the case, why send it after him? Or had it been allowed in to make random attacks and Draco had simply crossed its path by coincidence?

He remembered seeing the creature enter the tower. It had been sniffing the ground intently, walking right to the spot where he had been sitting before hearing the creature’s approach. That didn’t necessarily mean it had been looking for him, but it didn’t erase Draco’s sudden unease either. Come to think of it, he had been near the explosion site. And if he hadn’t stopped to insult Ginny Weasley, he would have gone right by that room on his way to…

On his way to Ancient Runes, a class which was also down that wing of the castle!

Hold on, Draco told himself, get a grip! The timing would have been too perfect then, wouldn’t it? Catching him while he was walking by that particular room would require precise timing on the part of the bomb maker. And again, would he have been hurt? He would have, but not badly. The classroom was almost at the end of the corridor, with Filch’s broom closet in between it and the explosion. Again, the motive would have been to frighten. But why, and who would go to all that trouble? Potter? No, he was far too noble and self sacrificing to hurt anyone in that manner, even his most hated enemy. Weasley? That thought was too hilarious to contemplate, as the idiot was too wrapped up in Dungbombs and attempting to actually pass his classes to plot something so intricate. Granger? She was definitely clever enough, but Gryffindor honor would prevent her from being so artful. Draco knew he had plenty of enemies besides those three. But he couldn’t think of anyone, not even Stone, who would actually go so far.

He suddenly felt dizzy with exhaustion and pondering these questions. The headmaster could handle this without anyone’s help. Besides, if someone was really after him, an owl to his father would take care of the problem!

Draco threw his nightclothes into his trunk and climbed into bed wearing only his underwear. His chest was hurting again and he was tired. He hoped the blissful forgetfulness of sleep would help to erase the memory of the past two days. As he drifted off, he allowed a vision of Ginny Weasley to steal through his mind. She was beautiful in curls, just beautiful!

****************

Dumbledore stared down at the young woman who was shivering slightly as she adjusted her borrowed robes. Remus Lupin took her hand and whispered quietly to her. She nodded her head and squeezed his hand. “I’m all right, Remus.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” the headmaster said gravely, “but I’m sure you’ll understand my desire to question both of you.”

The woman raised her eyes to Dumbledore’s. They were a strange color, a cross between brown and green, like an overripe fruit going bad. Her hair was short and brown, framing a heart shaped face. There were shadows under her eyes, cuts and bruises around her mouth, and her complexion was very pale. She stared back at the Headmaster with a weary expression, but nodded her head.

“All right,” he smiled slightly. “First, what went wrong?”

“That’s my fault, Albus,” Remus said apologetically. “I didn’t pick up enough of the potion from my connection in Romania. I assumed we’d only be there for a short time, and then back here before the new term started. But the delays I mentioned --” Here he shot a dark look at Professor Snape, who was watching the proceedings from a far corner -- “prevented us from returning as soon as I’d hoped. We had precious little potion to split between us, and it wasn’t enough for us both.”

“And yet curiously,” Snape’s voice drifted coldly over to the pair, “you remained unaffected by the dementia, Lupin. I find that very interesting!”

“Perhaps I just had enough of the potion in me to keep control. It’s not like it wasn’t a close thing, you know. I was experiencing a lot of the urges that come with the transformation. And Elizabeth is still new to this. She doesn’t have a lot of control over herself yet.”

“Please!” the woman called Elizabeth protested quietly, putting a restraining hand on Lupin’s shoulder.

“Yes, I would prefer this not disintegrate into another of your schoolboy fights,” Dumbledore agreed, looking sagely at Remus, then Severus.

“I would like to address the delays that prevented you from making a timely return, Remus.” Snape’s mouth opened to protest, but the headmaster held up a hand to stop him. “But alas, that must wait. My immediate concern is for my students and faculty. Many are already on edge because of the explosion, and we know it was deliberately set. But we are no closer to explaining why, or who, the target was.”

“Draco Malfoy,” Remus answered immediately. “The information that we’ve been gathering-“

“Is inconclusive, Remus, and you know it!” Elizabeth interrupted, making all three men turn to her in surprise.

“Why would anyone want to kill Malfoy? His family is well connected in important circles, and I can say with absolute certainty that many people have every reason to keep the Malfoys safe!” Snape argued, obviously taken aback by the suggestion that his favorite student was a target.

“I was as surprised as you,” Remus said slowly. “And Elizabeth is right, we aren’t absolutely certain that Malfoy is the target. We only know that the intended victim is a student here, a well connected student from an influential family.”

“Do you know why?” Dumbledore asked.

Remus turned to Elizabeth, who nodded and spoke. “We have been gathering information for months, sir. We went straight to Romania after your last owl informed us of the Lestranges’ presence there. We found out that they were once again attempting to form a concrete alliance with the Vampire Nation.”

“They won’t succeed,” Snape drawled. “The ruling body is too concerned with maintaining its ties to the various Ministries. The majority of them hold their personal honor dearer than what Voldemort can offer them.”

“Yes, we had an informant tell us the same,” Lupin replied. “But our informant also warned us that some in the lower council are not against an alliance, and if Voldemort had control of the world, it would give them the freedom to kill when and where they pleased.”

“And if that was all that defined a vampire’s existence, I would be more concerned. Happily, it is not,” Dumbledore said. “They are wild and dangerous creatures, to be sure. But they are still part human, and not completely soulless. .”

“But to kill is still their primary instinct, professor,” Remus said quietly. “Many vampires are attracted to the idea of joining with Voldemort. Many rogues already have.”

“True, Remus. But it might also be said that to kill is a werewolf’s primary instinct, yet there are a few I trust,” Dumbledore replied, blue eyes twinkling. Remus smiled ruefully at this.

“Headmaster,” Snape cut in, “what of my student?”

Elizabeth straightened and continued. “Once we’d concluded that the danger had passed, Remus and I returned to our room and packed. We had plans to make a stop in Germany and follow up on a rumor of Voldemort’s presence there. Before we could leave, however, we were attacked by three wizards. We were able to fight them off, but we had to flee quickly because we could see more flying in on a magic carpet. We apparated to the home of our informant, and he was able to arrange Muggle transport to Germany.” She smiled here. “It was my first time on an arrow-plane.”

Snape snorted impatiently here, and Elizabeth hastily continued. “We arrived safely and set about contacting several of my informants. That’s when we started hearing a rumor that Voldemort was searching for a security breach in his own circle.”

This made Snape start. But Dumbledore calmly urged Elizabeth to continue.

Remus, instead, began to speak. “Apparently, we are doing our jobs too well since we’ve managed to foil several of the Dark Lord’s attempts at an outright take over, and are impeding many of the alliances he’s trying to forge. Sirius owled me once we reached Germany and told me that he’d heard the same rumors on his end. The difference is that the source of the leaks seemed to be known to Voldemort, or at least suspected. There was also a rumor about a young man, a pure-blood of influential family, who is said to be the spy’s weak spot. Word has it that this young man is a Hogwarts student.”

Snape scowled. “That’s hardly conclusive!”

“That is what I said,” Elizabeth replied gently. “We can’t simply make assumptions.”

“Then why did you go looking for him?” Remus asked her quietly.

“The dementia was clouding what little reason I had!” Elizabeth replied tensely. “I don’t really remember why I did it. And it’s a good thing he escaped me when he did!”

Remus took her hand again, while Snape began to pace the small room. Dumbledore remained silent, deep in thought, his expression almost unreadable.

“Severus,” he said after a moment, “please go to Professor McGonagall and inform her of what we’ve learned. I think we’ve finished for now. I’ll follow along in a moment.”

Snape opened his mouth to protest, but seemed to change his mind. With a curt nod to Dumbledore, he left.

Once he was gone, the headmaster turned to Lupin and smiled. “Now am I right, Remus, in guessing that Mr. Potter and his friends have been to see you?”

Lupin smiled ruefully and nodded. Elizabeth also smiled and said, “He’s a remarkably strong boy, and very determined. I understand now why he’s eluded Voldemort’s grasp!”

“He’s worried, of course,” Remus added. “He thinks he might be a danger to his fellow students again and he’s desperate to stay on top of things.”

“I hope you convinced him that he’s better off here than chasing after demons?” Dumbledore asked with a chuckle.

“Yes. I didn’t tell him everything, of course, but I managed to convince him that things are too disjointed at the moment to be sure about anything.”

“And I apologized to Mr. Weasley,” Elizabeth said quietly, “for putting his young sister in danger.”

“I’m certain he accepted it,” Dumbledore said. “I have never known Mr. Weasley to hold a grudge for very long against anyone who has apologized.”

The headmaster straightened. “And now I will leave you. I must go and look for some information before I speak to you again.”

“Albus,” Remus said suddenly, “I’m sure it’s Draco Malfoy they’re after! Who else could be considered a spy’s weak spot? They must know Severus is feeding you information, and they’ve decided to strike against him.”

“Remus, it isn’t that simple. Severus is not in direct contact with any of the Death Eaters any longer because Lord Voldemort suspected him from the beginning. He has a very good network of spies and informants, however, so I agree that I cannot discount your theory. But I would like to look at all sides of the problem first.”

“Do you know of anyone else who could be considered a traitor in need of punishment?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

“There are many who have been feeding information to various sources behind the Dark Lord’s back. Not all are pleased with the way things are going!” Dumbledore said simply, walking out the door.

Draco sat on a low stool in the dungeon, pouring preservative into a large jar of dragon’s liver. He’d felt restless this evening, and had come down to help Professor Snape with some menial tasks. He was glad to keep busy, as moments of idleness gave him time to think. He found he didn’t much like what he thought about these days.

“Finished there, Mr. Malfoy?” Snape asked, corking a small vial of blue liquid called Mesmrixa. It was actually a powerful hypnotic potion, giving the user complete control of his victim. The victim would do whatever was asked of them, even end their own lives, yet they would not appear dull or abnormal to others. It was one of Snape’s more unpleasant mixtures. Draco nodded in response to the query, capping the jar and heaving it over to the storeroom. There he and the professor began the task of cataloguing what had just been replenished and what would need to be replenished soon. Draco wrote carefully, taking the left side of the storeroom while Snape inventoried the right. There was much to do there, as always, and it never failed to impress Draco how Snape knew it all so perfectly. His potions were of the highest quality and fetched a fair amount of Galleons from the apothecaries he sold to. He could have made much more if he had taken his products to the open market, but he didn’t. He chose to remain a Hogwarts teacher and Draco had never understood that. Neither had his father, who didn’t approve of his close relationship with the Potions Master. Draco smiled to himself as he conceded that this was exactly why he’d maintained their friendship. Why had Snape chosen to remain at Hogwarts, though? Draco had never had the nerve to ask before, but tonight he felt particularly frustrated. As he measured a jar of snake eyes, he drew a deep breath.

“I noticed you and Miss Parkinson by the lake this afternoon, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape remarked before Draco could speak. “Did you enjoy the wind off of the water?”

Draco stopped writing and slowly turned towards the professor. Snape’s back was to him as he calmly continued to catalogue potion ingredients, and Draco cleared his throat.

“Well, I wanted to be outside today, since it had stopped snowing. Of course the Gryffindors were taking up half the grounds with their snowball fights, especially Potter and Weasley. If Pansy and I were to have any peace, we had to go down to the lake.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Potter and his faithful sidekick,” Snape said mockingly. “Where there is mischief to be done, there you’ll find the Terrible Twosome.”

Draco laughed and began writing again. “At least they can brew something effectively. I’ve never seen any two who were better at causing trouble and headaches. Three really, we can’t forget about Granger.”

“Yes, my most adept student,” Snape agreed, “so annoyingly unforgettable. I sometimes think she ingests her textbooks. And her knowledge of Hogwarts: A History is legendary, I hear.”

Draco snickered, grinning gleefully as he began to warm up to the topic. “I can just see her doing that. Starting with breakfast she’ll have Arithmancy, Transfiguration for lunch, then Advanced Charms for supper. If brains could give you attitude, she might have made a decent Slytherin!”

“Perish the thought, Mr. Malfoy. I’d hate to think of her bushy head bobbing around the Slytherin Common room, telling everyone what to do.” Snape chuckled.

“Well, it would be constructive, at least.” Draco’s lips pursed. “A lot better than the drivel that spews out of others' mouths.”

“Indeed,” Snape replied absently, leaning over a jar of dried billywigs.

Draco frowned as he remembered the conversation he’d had with Pansy that afternoon. “She thinks I don’t pay enough attention to her. I was wondering when she’d get the hint.”

“I see, the infamous attitude of men being careless and thoughtless. Careful, Mr. Malfoy, you’ll give us all a bad name.”

“I just don’t see myself with her, Professor,” Malfoy said suddenly. “I sometimes don’t see myself following the exact path my father’s chosen for me either.”

Snape turned carefully around to regard his student. Draco had stopped writing and had half turned himself, staring at the ground, the frown on his face betraying his whirling thoughts.

“You’re quick to judge your father’s plans. Are you so certain of what they might be?” Snape asked casually.

“I’m sure of some of them anyway,” Draco replied restlessly. “I look forward to some, but not others. I suppose it’s my laziness, not wanting to always be toiling for the greater good. When do I get to be selfish?”

“I’d say when you open your eyes in the morning, of course,” Snape quipped, causing Draco to laugh.

“Yes, you’re right. I have plenty to be thankful for. I’m rich, influential, and a pureblood. What more could I want?”

“A life, perhaps?” the professor suggested helpfully. Draco smiled slightly as he lifted a jar of scarab beetles, unaware that the professor was studying his every move and word.

“I have a life,” Draco answered.

“Yes, you do,” Snape agreed.

“In fact, I’ve been meaning to tell my father that I want to…” Draco began, but paused uncertainly.

“Let me guess,” Snape smirked, “you’re secretly in love with Ginny Weasley and the two of you intend to elope this summer.”

“Professor!” Draco whirled around in shock, sputtering and dropping his clipboard in the process.

Snape laughed. “Only joking, Mr. Malfoy. My sense of humor tends to get a bit twisted at these late hours.”

Draco smiled weakly, a line forming between his brows as he retrieved his clipboard. Where had that come from? He was wondering how the professor could have said such a thing, when the Potion Master’s voice cut into his thoughts again.

“Did you enjoy Hogsmeade? I thought I’d heard that you had gone on Saturday,” Snape asked. Draco scowled. “Really, Mr. Malfoy, you should have rested,” Snape rebuked quietly.

“Yes, I did go, and no, I didn’t much enjoy it since I hadn’t slept,” he replied. “Stone was in a bit of a snit as well, because I’d had the bad manners to recover quickly.”

“Mr. Stone displays admirable ambition, Mr. Malfoy. I’d have thought the two of you would unite on some point of scholastic collaboration or other.”

Draco smiled wryly at his clipboard. “We have frequently united on term papers and experiments, Professor, as you well know. And he’s helped a fair bit in the development of the skills of some of our younger members, not to mention in finding…er…volunteers for some of our more experimental charms.” Draco laughed as he remembered Stone gesturing to a bush a few weeks before, indicating Neville Longbottom’s presence. Draco had walked over to the bush with his wand extended, and cast a freezing charm he’d been developing. The spell worked similarly to the Body Bind, except it froze the victim in his or her action completely, instead of binding them and leaving them aware. It was more like petrification with a wand, and the victim’s last memory would be seeing the spell cast. Draco grinned as he recalled how Longbottom had frowned at him for the next week. Pity he’d become so used to being the Slytherin whipping boy, as now he no longer offered the extra entertainment of running away from them.

“So you do get along, then?” Snape asked.

“For the most part,” Draco agreed. “But there’s always competition.”

“Indeed yes,” the professor said lightly, “and where would we be without competition to keep our skills sharp?”

“True, but it gets a bit much at times. It’s just so damn constant,” Draco replied, finishing his list. “You know, there are times I feel more unsafe with my own house mates than I do on a Quidditch field. It’s sad.”

“Why is it sad?”

“Well,” Draco stared at the ground, groping for the right words to express what he was feeling, “I see the other houses and the other students and they all seem so happy together. They look like they know that they’re safe, and that their house mates would defend them in an instant if they were in danger. Hell, Gryffindor proves that time and again! But Slytherin only presents a united face to outsiders. On the inside, the scheming and backstabbing is par for the course. When we sit together and chat at tea or meal times, most of the conversations are opportunities to out do each other’s bragging. It’s pathetic sometimes, it really is.”

Snape was quiet for a moment, then spoke carefully. “There will come moments in your life, Mr. Malfoy, when you will experience doubts about the path you choose to walk in life. The thing to remember is that your choice, once made, will define your person for all time. Whether that leads to success or regret is entirely up to you.”

Draco stared at the Potion Master. His father had often spoken to Draco about choices in life, but not like this. Was Snape telling him something? Draco couldn’t decide, but he had no doubt that he’d been handed another kernel of wisdom from his mentor. Snape just usually chose to be cryptic about it.

“I’m finished with this. What else needs to be done, sir?” Draco said, handing Snape the clipboard.

“That’s all for tonight, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape replied. “You may go.”

Draco nodded and took his leave, heading up the stairs towards the Slytherin Common room. He had made it to the blank stone wall that was the door to the common room before deciding he was hungry. He turned away then and headed for the kitchens.

Like many other students, Draco had discovered the kitchens and the joys of after hours snaking thanks to the obeisant House Elves. Finding Dobby there had been a bit of a shock, and the former Malfoy servant had never once spoken to or served him, but it really didn’t bother Draco. It had irked his father to have to hire paid help, but life had continued pretty much the same for the Malfoy family even after Dobby’s departure. Nothing would ever stop them from living as they were accustomed to.

Draco reached the painting of the fruit bowl and tickled the pear, sweeping into the large kitchen grandly. The House Elves always treated him with the respect he was due, and it was fun reminding them of his station – and theirs.

Immediately upon his entering, several House elves ran over to him, smiling widely and bowing.

“Master Malfoy, is you hungry? We has some freshly baked puddings.” One called Dinky squeaked happily.

Draco looked around imperiously. “That will do, and a sandwich as well.”

The Elves bobbed as four more came running up behind them. Two of them carried a pudding on a plate; another carried a glass, while the fourth carried a small flask of pumpkin juice. Draco accepted them and looked around for a place to sit.

“Yous can sit with Miss Wheezy!” Dinky said shrilly. Draco blinked.

“Sit with what?” he asked.

“He said you can sit with Miss Weasley,” said a low voice from the fireplace. Draco’s head snapped towards the hearth, where Ginny sat looking coolly at him. He scowled.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped. She cocked her head and smiled in amusement.

“The same as you, apparently,” she replied. “I was studying for a test tomorrow and got hungry.”

The House Elves had already cleared a place for Draco next to Ginny, spreading a blanket on the stone floor and placing his sandwich next to her. It was on the tip of his tongue to order them to wrap everything to go, but he decided against it when Ginny smiled and said, “You afraid of me, Malfoy?”
“Afraid?” he laughed, “don’t be stupid.” He strode over to her and sat down, pouring the pumpkin juice and digging in to his sandwich. He looked over and saw that she was having the same, a corned beef sandwich and pudding. Dinky ran over to them.
“You need more food?” he asked eagerly.
“No, you may go,” Draco replied coldly, making Ginny glare.
“Thank you, Dinky,” she said pointedly, “but I’m fine. I don’t need anything else.”
Draco was irritated by the rush of sudden embarrassment he felt. Why should he be embarrassed? They were servants, and he treated them as such. Why did she have to make it seem like he was being an arse? As soon as Dinky ran back to his duties, he turned to her.
“Look, you and I have both had a pretty rough time recently. If it’s not too much to ask, could we possibly just eat in peace? I’m starving and really not in the mood for an argument.”
Ginny looked at him, surprised at this little demonstration of maturity. He was frowning intently at her, and she had to admit he did look tired. The tender bruises under his slightly red eyes lent him an aspect of vulnerability, much as the night when he’d been attacked. And he looked thinner: his cheeks appeared sharper in his pale face. Even his hair was slightly mussed, falling over his stormy gray eyes and sticking out in little tufts around his ears. She blinked as she realized he was cute.
“Well?” he demanded impatiently, causing her to start.
“All right, yes.” She frowned, turning away and stuffing her sandwich in her mouth to cover her embarrassment. Draco looked at her for a moment, then nodded and turned his attention to his own meal.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, Ginny glancing furtively at him. He ate quickly, obviously famished. She wondered what he’d been doing to work up such an appetite, and then wondered why she cared. He certainly seemed to take no more notice of her once their little agreement had been reached, which irritated her. A sudden desire to make him acknowledge her presence seized hold, and she followed it.
“The first Quidditch game of the season is next week,” she said casually, “Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. Are you ready for it?”
Draco looked up at her, frowning. “What do you mean ‘am I ready’? Of course I’m ready. I’ve been training harder than last year, so why wouldn’t I be ready?”
“Sorry,” she replied irritably, “I was just making conversation.”
“Supper’s for eating, Weasley. If I want conversation I’ll find my friends.”
“Crabbe and Goyle,” she laughed, “what brilliant discussions you must have! Do they involve words?”
“Sod off!” he snapped.
Ginny glared for a moment then turned away, gulping her pumpkin juice so forcibly she choked.
“Watch it!” Draco began pounding on her back roughly, causing Ginny to spew out half her juice. She grabbed a napkin and pressed it to her mouth with one hand, using the other to fend off his fist.
“I’m all right,” she gasped, “stop it, I’m fine!”
“Sorry.” He stopped hitting her, feeling awkward. “You sure you’re all right?”
Ginny nodded, one hand pressed against her chest as she waited for the burning in her throat to die down. He looked at her, wanting to ask again if she was all right, and feeling a flash of irritation for it. She wasn’t dying, for heaven’s sake!
After a moment, she lowered her napkin and rubbed her throat. It was then that they both noticed several of the House Elves ringed around them, looking anxiously at Ginny.
“Does Miss need a warm drink?” one of them asked. Ginny smiled and shook her head.
“I’m fine,” she croaked, sounding for all the world like a frog with laryngitis. Draco barely stifled a snort, and the House Elves continued to watch Ginny with concern. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“Really, I’m all right.” This time her voice was merely scratchy, and the House Elves breathed a collective sigh of relief. Probably think they’d be held responsible, Draco thought in amusement. He didn’t see how, though, considering the forgiving nature of the Headmaster. Now if they worked for the Malfoys, it would be a different matter entirely.
“You can go,” he said to them. Ginny nodded her agreement, and the elves dispersed.
Ginny continued to rub her throat, though every second it was feeling better. She turned to Draco and found him grinning at her.
“What?” she asked, frowning in surprise.
“You,” he replied, shaking his head. “For a moment you sounded like a toad.”
She glared at him. “If I did, it’s your fault Malfoy.”
“My fault, is it? How’s that? I didn’t go and make you slurp your drink like that. You should be more careful. Next time you might drown on a glass of milk.”
She closed her eyes. “Malfoy, do me a favor and shut up!”
He chuckled, feeling giddy and enjoying her embarrassment. Drown on a glass of milk! He cracked himself up sometimes. She was throwing him quite an evil look, but it only made him laugh harder. Her lip twitched, and for some reason that was funny too. He began to chortle and rock forward, holding his stomach.
“I’m fine,” he croaked in imitation of her, and Ginny had to bite her lips to keep from smiling.
“It’s not funny,” she said forcefully, her face contorting as the struggle not to join him became obvious. But at that moment, Draco rocked forward hard enough to almost bang his head upon the floor, and as he reared back he over balanced and cracked his skull into the fireplace.
“Ouch!” he cried, his hands flying to the back of his head. Ginny’s laughter burst out of her, the situation rendered all the more ridiculous because Draco was now curled up on the floor, holding his head and laughing like a maniac. He had a laugh like a crazed hyena, which amazed her, and tears started to run down her face.
“Stop it!” she gasped. “I have to pee now!”
Draco nodded vigorously, his face red and tear streaked as well. After several minutes they were able to stop, but the moment they looked at each other, they burst into giggles again.
Is this happening? Ginny wondered. It felt very unreal, lying on a stone floor laughing hysterically with Malfoy. It was several more minutes before she was able to reign herself in again, and as she sat up, she noticed Draco was flushed and glowing.
“Blimey, you look good with color in your face,” she murmured.
Draco stopped laughing and stared at her in surprise. “What?”
Ginny blinked, unable to believe she’d said that out loud. “Er…well you’re always so pale,” she explained awkwardly, “I was just saying, I mean thinking…you look all right,” she finished lamely.
Draco wasn’t at all certain how to take that. Had Weasley just complimented him? Or was this a clever insult? His expression was caught somewhere between confusion and irritation, and he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Ginny fidgeted for a moment, and then stood up abruptly.
“I have to get back,” she said, not looking at him. “Er…good night.”
She had almost reached the door when Draco’s voice stopped her. “Hey Weasley!”
She turned around to face him. He was still sitting on the floor, his robes askew and his hair sticking out in all directions. There was a strange look in his eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his face.
“Thanks for the laugh,” he said quietly.
Ginny’s heart gave a thump at that. “You’re welcome Draco. Good night.”
A moment later she was gone, leaving Draco to wonder what was happening to his life.

*****************

The weeks passed and autumn became winter. It was a cold Saturday morning in December when Ginny found herself headed for the Quidditch Pitch with the rest of the school. The match for the day was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, and Ginny was eager to get a good spot to watch Harry and Ron, who’d become a Chaser in his fifth year. Hermione gripped a jug of pumpkin juice and grinned at Ginny, and they walked faster towards the Pitch.
Once they arrived, they were able to snag top spots in the stands. The teams were still in their locker rooms, so Ginny took a glass of juice from Hermione and settled in to wait. The stands were filling fast, and students were jostling playfully and talking excitedly about the chances of Hufflepuff pulling a victory out of the hat. They had a new Beater named Enid Foster, a fourth year with a strong arm who could deliver powerful blows from her bat. Their Captain, Donald MacCabe, had put together a strong team, and their Seeker -- a girl by the name of Charlotte Graham – was quick as lightening and particularly adept at diving. But Gryffindor still had Harry; arguably the best Seeker the school had ever seen, who owned the best broom around, and Ron, a fierce Chaser who thought nothing of flying recklessly through any formation in front of the goal post to gain a score. Their Beaters, two fifth years named David Stiles and Andrew MacLeod, were spot on with their bats, often almost knocking opponents off their brooms. The other two Chasers, Natalie MacDonald and Robert Carroll, and the Keeper, Neville Longbottom, were all strong and capable players. Neville had surprised everyone when he’d finally built up his courage enough to try out for a position, but he’d turned out to be an excellent Keeper, strong and quick on his broom. The Quaffle rarely got by him.
“D’you think it’ll be a tough game?” Dennis Creevy, seated next to Ginny, asked anxiously. She grinned.
“Yes, but I think our chances are excellent. We’re undefeated so far.”
“If Slytherin could just manage to lose their match next Saturday, they’d be that much closer to elimination,” Hermione sniffed.
Not bloody likely, Ginny thought. Slytherin’s only defeat so far was to Gryffindor, which put them just behind in the competition for the Quidditch Cup. If Hufflepuff could win this game, they’d pull ahead of Ravenclaw. Ginny found herself hoping that wouldn’t happen, since Ravenclaw was her best friend’s House. Not to mention she was rooting for Gryffindor!
She looked around the stands, and directly across from their position, saw the Slytherins all grouped together. She squinted a bit and caught the silver blond head of Draco Malfoy standing with Crabbe and Goyle, as usual. He was looking around the field and talking with several people, but he was too far away for her to see his expression clearly. Her heart gave a thump as she stared at him and she felt confusion flood her mind. She hadn’t forgotten that night in the kitchen. She had, in fact, thought about it a great deal. Since that time she’d been unable to see him in the halls without blushing. She was no longer certain about who he was, or how she felt about him, and that made her angry and miserable. She felt her face grow warm as she recalled the times their eyes had met whilst they passed each other in the corridors. She would see him, and his eyes would lock with hers. Something tremendous and almost palpable would pass between them in those scant moments, and she never failed to experience a draining heat wash over her. Only a few seconds, yet it felt timeless and unreal as her heart would begin to pound. But they never spoke or had any other communication except that. Something like frustration shivered through her, and she had to tear her eyes away from him in order to force it from her mind.
“Professor Lupin!” Hermione gasped, causing Ginny to start. Hermione was looking towards the stairs as Lupin and a woman Ginny didn’t know entered their row. He smiled widely at Hermione and Ginny, walking towards them and taking a spot on Hermione’s other side. Hermione shook hands with him and the lady, and then turned to Ginny.
“This is Ron’s sister, Virginia Weasley. Ginny, you know Professor Lupin, and this is his friend, Elizabeth Morgan.”
“Call me Ginny,” she smiled, shaking hands with both. The woman was very pretty, but there was something about her that pricked Ginny. She had strange hazel eyes, short dark hair, and was dressed in violet robes. She and the professor were holding hands, which was nice. But Ginny felt slightly uneasy in her presence.
All around Lupin the students who remembered him were greeting him enthusiastically, asking where he taught at the present and if he’d consider returning to Hogwarts. Remus laughed and thanked everyone, but assured them that he was very busy and was unlikely to return to the school. Disappointment greeted his words, but everyone was glad to see him.
“What brings you here Professor?” Ginny asked. He turned back to her and smiled.
“I was in Hogsmeade picking up supplies and I thought I’d visit. It’s always wonderful to see the place and the staff, especially the headmaster. And since I haven’t seen a good Quidditch match in a while,” he grinned here, “I asked if perhaps I could see how the teams have changed since I’ve been here.”
Hermione laughed. “Very clever Professor. I’m sure we could all benefit from your critique on the match as well.”
Elizabeth laughed too. “I always tell him he’s too clever for his own good!”
Ginny smiled but said nothing, turning her attention to the Pitch. The players were emerging, and Caleb Anderson, a Slytherin sixth year and the new commentator, began to announce them.
“The Hufflepuffs take the Pitch, all decked out in their canary yellow too. Fashionable color, yellow, you can see it for miles! Aahh, and here comes Gryffindor in their own ketchup colored robes. This should be an interesting game indeed! Er…is anyone suddenly in the mood for a hamburger, or is it just me?”
“Professor Snape,” McGonagall glared, “perhaps you could encourage your student to concentrate on the game?”
The Potions Master smirked. “Now, Mr. Anderson, please refrain from using too many accurate descriptions. No one will be able to watch the game from laughing.”
“Apologies, Professor. Back to the game—and the Quaffle is up, caught by Weasley, whose hair clashes with his robes. Sorry Professor, just an observation. He’s trundling along—nice pass to MacDonald. Knows when he’s licked, of course. MacDonald is streaking over to the Hufflepuff goal--Oo--Almost knocked off her broom by a Bludger from Foster. She’s dropped the Quaffle, and it’s picked up by MacCabe, who I hear wears frilly pants under his school robes-“
“Anderson, you will keep such drivel out of your commentary!” McGonagall growled.
“Sorry Professor McGonagall. And MacCabe is headed off midway by Carroll, who snatches the Quaffle quite nastily away. Makes you wonder at their constant accusations of cheating to Slytherin—yes Professor, I was just saying—Carroll ducks a Bludger and is thrown into contact with Barnes. Nice shoving match! Oo, and Barnes is kicking. Any wagers as to who gets knocked off their broom?”
“Mr. Anderson,” Snape smirked nastily, “betting is not allowed.”
“Indeed not, Professor Snape. And Carroll whips around Barnes as Alnor knocks a Bludger towards—but he’s past them! Keeper Lara Bussey charges out to stop—GRYFFINDOR SCORES!”
Ginny cheered loudly and enthusiastically, almost dancing with glee. Ron spun a loop with joy, then raced back into the fray. The Quaffle was now held by James Caldwell, a Chaser for Hufflepuff, who was flying like mad towards the Gryffindor goal. He was stopped short when MacLeod swung his bat and sent a Bludger straight for him.
“FIRST BLOOD!” screamed Caleb Anderson. “Caldwell gets a Bludger to the face! Very picturesque, I might add. Sorry Professor. An unbiased observance, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Ginny gasped with everyone else as Caldwell floated jerkily to the ground. A time out was called, and Ginny looked up to see where Harry was. She spotted him flying high above the Pitch and she knew he was searching for a glimmer of gold. After a few moments, the game resumed, Caldwell having refused to stop playing, cleaning up as best he could. The Quaffle was thrown and once again caught by Ron, who flew towards the goal post. He was forced to pull up as a Bludger from Foster flew towards him, and as he dodged the Quaffle was snatched out of his arms by MacCabe, who once again began to zip towards the Gryffindor goal. Stiles bashed viciously on a Bludger, aiming for MacCabe’s broom, but the Hufflepuff Captain expertly dodged. He managed to sweep past MacDonald, but almost smacked into Carroll and the two tussled furiously before MacCabe managed a mid-air roll away from the Gryffindor Chaser. Ron was still flying towards him, but he had a clear shot and launched the Quaffle.
BAMPF! The sound of leather colliding with cloth met MacCabe’s ears as Neville suddenly appeared and blocked the shot perfectly, launching the Quaffle at Ron as soon as he was close enough. MacCabe and Caldwell sped after him.
The game grew furious. Down in the stands, Ginny was clutching at Hermione’s robes and cheering herself hoarse. Ron passed to MacDonald, who shot upwards and managed to avoid both Bludgers aimed at her. When Barnes streaked for her, she passed the Quaffle smoothly to Carroll, who shot it to Ron in front of the goal. Once again Gryffindor scored. They were up twenty to zero, and the cheers from the Gryffindors in the stands were deafening. Another time out was called, and Ginny took a moment to grab her juice and gulp it excitedly, her throat raw from screaming. It was then that she noticed Professor Lupin’s companion, the woman named Elizabeth, was gone. Professor Lupin was talking excitedly to several students and Ginny had a clear view of the lower stands from where she was. But the woman had vanished.
“Professor, your friend might want to return quickly, before the time out is over,” Ginny said, looking at the Pitch.
“What’s that?” The Professor blinked at Ginny, and then looked around. “I’m sure she’ll be along in a moment. Probably had to take care of some personal business, if you know what I mean.”
Ginny nodded, wondering why he wasn’t concerned. Probably? Hadn’t she told him? They’d seemed rather close when they’d appeared, so she had a hard time believing that Elizabeth had ran off without even saying where she was going. The feeling of uneasiness returned, and Ginny began to wonder what secrets the woman might be keeping from Lupin. But perhaps she was overreacting. She knew absolutely nothing about the woman; perhaps this was the way she always behaved. . Ginny tried to shrug off the negative feelings by allowing her eyes to sweep the stands for Draco again. She found him quickly, and felt her stomach clench when she saw Pansy Parkinson standing with him, her arm looped comfortably through his. He didn’t seem to mind, and Pansy, as usual, appeared to be talking since she was gesturing a lot with her other hand. What in the name of sanity did he see in her? Even from this distance, Pansy’s every gesture and move spoke of her shallowness. Her stance was affected and obvious, and Ginny could almost hear her annoying voice bulleting out mindless drivel, from make-up to this or that person’s appearance. Draco Malfoy might be shallow and rude himself, but surely he didn’t like hearing it from someone else, did he? The crowed roared suddenly, indicating that the match was resuming. It was then that Ginny caught a flash of violet to Draco’s left.
She snapped her gaze back towards the stands; straining her eyes at the spot she’d seen it. But it was too far away, and all she could see were the black robes of the students. She continued to sweep her gaze over and over the spot, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Another roar of applause told her another goal had been scored, so she reluctantly tore her eyes away and tried to concentrate on the game. Hufflepuff had scored a goal, and it was now ten to twenty. Harry was flying low over the players, almost in their midst. Charlotte Graham was doing the same and seemed to be marking Harry’s every move. It made sense, since her broom wouldn’t match the speed of Harry’s Firebolt.
“And the Gryffs are still ten points up,” Anderson prattled. “But perhaps the Badgers might be able to change things, if they can get focused! Don’t know when I’ve seen Beaters miss so much, though perhaps Foster and Alnor can look forward to a successful career with the Chudley Cannons. Joking, Professor, only joking. Weasley has the Quaffle, amazingly enough, and the Hufflepuffs pursue him lovingly—AH!—MacDonald collides with Barnes, preventing him from getting to Weasley—MacCabe flying like a madman towards the goal and—successful block by Bussey, and the Hufflepuffs take possession. Hang on, Potter is diving!”
Ginny watched as Harry suddenly swept into a spectacular dive, arm outstretched. Graham was right behind him, fighting to catch up and stretching her arm out as well. Everyone stopped and held their breath as the seekers fought to lay hands on the Snitch. Ginny couldn’t see it, until it suddenly streaked vertically, avoiding the ground and the Seekers’ grasping hands. Harry was after it in a flash; Graham struggled to match speed with him as the crowd roared louder than ever. Ginny lost the Snitch after a second, but she saw Harry begin a sharp horizontal rise. Graham was still a little behind him, but was catching up. A Bludger suddenly flew towards Harry, and he was forced to slow and pull his hand back, giving Graham the chance to pass him. Ginny could almost hear Harry swearing viciously in her mind, and she watched him race towards the Snitch with redoubled speed. He and Graham were neck and neck, reaching and diving and stretching their arms—
Harry’s longer reach allowed him to pull ahead of Charlotte and his hand snapped closed. He suddenly slowed and rocked back on his broom, holding his hand high above his head. He’d caught the Snitch!
“Potter pulls it off,” Anderson yelled sourly as the stands exploded with cheers. “Gryffindor wins 170 to 10. Now who’s just as stunned as I am?”
Ginny was jumping up and down with Hermione and the other Gryffindors. They’d done it, they’d won! She was sure a party would be thrown. Hermione was glowing with pride, and even Professor Lupin was grinning from ear to ear.
“Has the game changed much professor?” Ginny asked breathlessly. He laughed.
“Not at all Miss Weasley, it’s everything I remember and more!”
Ginny spun around happily, feeling silly but not really caring. Victory was in the air, and she loved it. She looked across the Pitch once more, hoping to see Malfoy and maybe catch his eye and rub it in. But the Slytherins were already emptying out of the stands, and she was just in time to see Draco’s silver blond head disappear through one of the exits.
Followed by a figure in violet robes.