Chapter 1 – Waking Up is Hard to Do
Note: HBP Spoilers

There was a painful dryness in her throat – that’s what she noticed first. The difficulty breathing, the raspy sound as she sucked in air.

Is that what woke me up? she wondered as she blinked groggily into the near darkness surrounding her.

It was only after she tried to shift positions that more real, more intense pain shot through her body. Her head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, temples throbbing and ears ringing. She gasped loudly as she raised her hand to her head. It was as if her entire body was one large bruise. Wincing, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, feeling cold, wet stone beneath her hands.

My God, where am I?

A look around her did not answer the question. She was on the floor of what appeared to be an enormous room punctuated with large round columns. The only light came from flickering torches ensconced randomly along the columns. She couldn’t see the ceiling through the gloom above her, and was only rewarded for tilting her head back by a shooting pain that ran up her spine. Shutting her eyes and holding her breath, she tried to will the pain away. It was then that she noticed how cold and damp the air felt on her skin – like being enveloped in a mist. There was a salt smell, too, and she heard faintly what sounded like the dull roar of waves crashing on rock.

I’m near the ocean at any rate, she thought, but without feeling any closer to understanding what that could possibly mean.

Think, Ginny! she said to herself, trying desperately to dispel the fog clouding her mind.

She had been out walking in the woods near the Burrow, trying to find some alone time as the cottage overflowed with company, all rushing about preparing for the next day’s celebration, all trying to throw off the weight of anxiety and sorrow with a steady stream of jokes and playful banter. Hermione had arrived that morning, looking paler and more thoughtful than usual, but smiling cheerily at everyone and even laughing good-naturedly at the nervous excitement evident in Bill’s constant fidgeting and Fleur’s nonstop chatter.

“’Ermione, do you theenk I should wear ze white roses or ze lilies? Zay both look so beautiful in my ‘air, I cannot choose.”

Exasperated at having heard this question for at least the fifteenth time that morning, Ginny had fled. She recovered her calm as she entered the coolness and quiet of the woods, making her way among the trees lightly and reaching out here and there to trail her fingers down a trunk. She wasn’t really angry at Fleur, she had realized. It’s sour grapes, she told herself. Harry would be arriving sometime that afternoon. He’d spent the last couple of weeks with his Muggle relatives, and Ginny hadn’t heard from him or seen him since Professor Dumbledore’s funeral. Since they had broken up. She had needed time alone to prepare herself, to steel herself for seeing him again.

It’s for the best this way, she had thought grimly. As Harry’s girlfriend, I could only be a liability to him, and he has more important things to concentrate on. Like the fate of the world, for instance.

Thinking it hadn’t made the ache in her chest any less, though, or taken away the hollow feeling in her stomach. Recalling it even now as she sat huddled God only knew where, her insides felt twisted in a way that had nothing to do with a physical hurt.

Everything up until this point seemed clear in Ginny’s mind, but what happened next was a blur. She remembered the sudden sound of a cracking twig come from somewhere behind her, remembered tensing in alarm and whirling about, her eyes darting in all directions. But she had seen nothing, and smiled at her foolishness.

Probably Hermione, rushing to escape Phlegm’s clutches, she had thought with a grin.

But as her shoulders relaxed and she stood expectantly, waiting for her friend to appear, she had heard more crackling, distinct footsteps, coming from all directions now. And even as she had attempted to turn, reaching for her wand, she had felt an intense pain in her head, like fire and icewater rushing through her at the same time, and everything had gone black.

I was attacked, she realized, drawing her knees up and huddling closer to the column behind her. I was attacked, and that can only mean Death Eaters.

As panic surged through her, a host of other questions barraged her mind in quick succession. What were Death Eaters doing near the Burrow? What happened to everyone else? Were they okay? Were they attacked as well? Mum and Dad? Ron? Harry? If they weren’t attacked, were they looking for her? How long had she been here?

And why, in God’s name, am I still alive?

That, perhaps, was what made the least sense. Death Eaters weren’t known for their mercy, and Ginny hadn’t heard of them ever taking prisoners. Killing was a sport to them, a game. And if they had taken her prisoner, it could only mean that something even worse than death was in store for her.

What if – what if they found out about me and Harry? What if they were planning on using me to get to him, force him to try to rescue me?

At the thought, tears forced their way through Ginny’s clenched eyelids as she tried not to sob aloud. Conflicting feelings warred within her. She desperately wanted Harry to save her, to feel his arms around her and know that everything was okay. But the thought of him walking into a trap, being hurt, maybe even . . .

“No!” she cried, her voice echoing through the vast darkness.

Sudden footsteps sounded behind her. Ginny immediately reached into her jeans for her wand, only to find that it wasn’t there. Her pockets must have been searched when she was unconscious, she realized.

I’m completely defenseless. With a grimace of pain, she struggled to her feet and turned to meet her attackers. I’ll fight with my bare hands, she thought. If I’m going to die, I’ll at least –

“You’re awake!” exclaimed a small voice with evident relief. Two children emerged from the gloom in front of Ginny. The taller of the two, a boy, was the one who had spoken.

“You’re Ginny Weasley, right? I’ve watched you play Quidditch. You probably don’t know me though. I’m Kevin Pullman – just finished first year. In Ravenclaw. This is my sis, Lizzie – she’s only ten, so she’s not at school yet, er –” he trailed off awkwardly, but wiping a hand on his khaki pants, he thrust it forward for Ginny to shake. She took it, speechlessly, looking in amazement from one of them to the other. Both were pale and a bit wide-eyed, with grime covered faces and disheveled clothes. Kevin was thin and tall for a first year, nearly Ginny’s height, and had close-cut dark brown hair. Lizzie had much lighter hair than her brother, nearly blonde, and it was barely held back in a messy pony tail at the base of her neck. Her face was round and dimpled slightly as she smiled nervously at Ginny. She trembled as she stood close by her brother, and looked very cold in the light sundress she was wearing.

“It’s . . . um . . . it’s nice to meet you both,” Ginny said slowly after surveying the two. “But why are you here? Where are we?” Kevin and Lizzie glanced at each other before replying.

“We don’t know,” said Kevin in a subdued voice. “We had snuck off to the Muggle playground while Mum was taking a nap. Next thing we knew we woke up here. Not even sure how long we’ve been here. At least a week, we think. But there’s no way to tell if it’s even night or day. I’m trying to keep track by the meals the fat guy brings us – think he comes twice a day.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I think he’s a Death Eater.”

Lizzie chimed in with a slight whimper, “He’s scary, the way he smiles at us. And he doesn’t bring us very much to eat. At least that one barely touches anything.” She nodded her head over her shoulder.

“Who barely touches anything? Is there someone else here with us?” Ginny asked.

“Over there,” Kevin indicated with a wave of his arm. “But I don’t think he’ll last much longer,” he added flatly. Ginny glanced at him with surprise at the lack of concern in his voice and then hurried toward the spot he indicated, wincing at the soreness in her legs.

Finally reaching the outer wall of what could only be the dungeon of some immense castle, Ginny saw a thick pile of straw and next to it, a large pitcher with a ladle resting against it. At the far edge of the straw pile was a gaunt figure of a man lying face up with one arm extended toward the wall and the other resting across his chest. Ginny began approaching with trepidation, unsure of whether the man was alive or dead, when she suddenly halted in surprise. This was a figure she recognized.

“Draco Malfoy!” she exclaimed.

The figure stirred slightly and Ginny moved closer. She had never seen Malfoy look so awful. His usually carefully combed white-blonde hair hung loosely across his forehead, and he, like Kevin and Lizzie, had a fair amount of dirt covering his face. The skin that did show through the grime seemed even paler than normal – quite a feat, considering Malfoy’s usual marble-like pallor – now it looked almost translucent and seemed to glow like moonlight in the darkness. His left hand resting on his chest stood out in sharp relief against his black robes, and his long, thin fingers looked so fragile that Ginny imagined they might snap easily if she bent them.

“He was already here when we got here,” Kevin said, moving to stand beside Ginny and glaring at Malfoy’s still form. “We think he knows where we are, but he won’t talk to us. Big, bullying git.” Kevin had clearly already become acquainted with Malfoy at school.

“He said he would eat me if I didn’t leave him alone!” piped up Lizzie. Ginny almost laughed in surprise. Malfoy must be completely deranged if he’d taken to threats of cannibalism, she thought to herself. Stooping over him, she nudged his shoulder.

“Malfoy! Wake up!”

Slowly, Draco Malfoy opened one eye and then the other. “Go aw-” he started to say, but stopped as his eyes slid into focus on Ginny’s face.

“Fresh meat,” he drawled. “And a Weasley, no less.” He chuckled humorlessly, a slight sneer on his face.

“Malfoy, tell me where we are,” Ginny demanded. He didn’t respond, but instead closed his eyes again.

“Malfoy!”

“Go away, little weasel,” he said in a hoarse voice barely above a whisper, his eyes still closed. “Go away, and let me die in peace.”

“That’s what I figured,” Kevin said, shaking his head. “He won’t talk to you either.”

Ginny was stunned. What was Malfoy, a known Death Eater, doing here? And in his condition? She sat down on the floor near Malfoy, staring at him as she tried to figure out what to do. She remembered all that Harry had told her a few weeks back, about how Malfoy was responsible for Dumbledore’s death, how he was going to kill Dumbledore himself. Harry had been obsessing over Malfoy all year, and the seething hate was clear in his voice. But in a conversation she had overheard in the kitchen between her mother and Lupin, Malfoy was discussed with pity.

“Of course Albus guessed all along,” Ginny heard Lupin say, “but he knew young Malfoy hadn’t the heart to go through with it. Albus wanted him to struggle to that realization on his own.”

“Poor boy,” Mrs. Weasley replied, “It’s his parents’ fault, really. Trying to live up to his father’s expectations. And that heartless woman he has for a mother –” Ginny saw her mother shudder.

“Oh, Remus, if only Albus had fully realized what Snape would do,” Mrs. Weasley continued.

“I’m not so sure he didn’t,” was Lupin’s quiet reply. Ginny had heard no more as Ron bounded down the steps and into the room, interrupting them.

She still didn’t know what to believe. When she was Harry’s girlfriend, she of course had wanted to be of the same mind as him, but the intensity of his hatred for Malfoy frightened her a little. She had always despised Malfoy herself – he was a bully and a bigot – and she had quite enjoyed performing her renowned Bat-Bogey Hex on him during her fourth year, but being a bully was one thing, she thought, being pure evil was quite another, and Malfoy just didn’t seem to have it in him. Besides, there was also her run-in with him in the bathroom last spring . . . .

Won’t think of that now, she said to herself, shaking her head slightly and returning her focus to the present Malfoy, lying in front of her, his breath rattling ominously in his chest.

“Whatever our feelings about Malfoy,” Ginny said to Kevin and Lizzie, who had seated themselves beside her, “I think we have to try to keep him alive until he tells us what he knows about this place and why we’re here. It might be the only chance we’ve got at getting out of here.”

Kevin nodded at once, a look of determination on his face. Lizzie seemed more hesitant.

“I don’t have to go near him, do I?” she asked fearfully. “He said –”

Ginny smiled at her reassuringly. “He won’t eat you, I promise. I won’t let him.”

“Okay, then,” Lizzie said, more confidently. “I’ll do it.”

“Good,” replied Ginny. “What we’ll need to do first is get him warm. There aren’t by any chance blankets lying around down here?” Kevin shook his head. “Right, I didn’t expect so. Let’s try piling some straw on him. Let his body heat do the work.”

Ginny and the two Pullman siblings busied themselves arranging a thick layer of straw over Malfoy’s unmoving form, Ginny directing them to keep it away from his face. “We don’t want to suffocate him.”

Not yet, anyway, she thought with a smirk.

Next, they worked on getting some water into him. Kevin held Malfoy’s head up while Ginny trickled water into his mouth from the ladle.

“Three scoops ought to do it for now,” she said. “Do we have any food at all?”

Again Kevin shook his head. “But the fat man should be bringing some soon. It’s been a while since he was down here.”

“Well, then, there’s nothing more to do for Malfoy until food comes. I’d like to have a look around this place, see if there might be any ways out you’ve missed.”

“Allow me to escort you on the grand tour, m’lady,” said Kevin, holding out his elbow with a grin.

“Why thank you, sir,” replied Ginny, hooking her elbow through his and smiling in return. “Lizzie, will you stay here and keep an eye on Malfoy?” Lizzie nodded resolutely. “Just shout to us if he wakes up or seems worse.”

Ginny and Kevin moved carefully through the gloomy dungeon, occasionally stumbling over piles of rubble.

“It’s almost a neat place, really,” Kevin said. “Here on this side all the walls are regular stone, but on the far side it’s like it’s carved right out of the rock, all rough like a cave. There’s a really low spot full of water – gets pretty deep I think. But no good for drinking, all salty.” Kevin directed their steps toward the spot.

Ginny couldn’t believe it was possible, but as they progressed toward the far end of the dungeon, the air became even colder and damper, and the salt-smell of the ocean was now clearly discernable. The columns on this side of the dungeon dripped with water, and Ginny felt her thin t-shirt clinging to her uncomfortably.

“There’s the stairs,” Kevin pointed, as a narrow archway suddenly appeared out of the gloom, cut into the rock beside them. “No use trying to get up them, though. Some sort of charm – I can’t even put my foot on the bottom step.” Ginny walked through the archway and saw a staircase curving upwards into the mist. Sure enough, as soon as she tried to place her foot on the first step, it felt like she was kicking a solid wall.

“Damn!” she muttered under her breath, although she knew it had been too much to hope that she’d be able to simply walk up and out of there. She returned to Kevin’s side and he led on to the pool he had mentioned. It was located in by far the darkest corner of the dungeon. The floor had been sloping downward steadily for some time, and Ginny noticed that she was walking on dirt now rather than carved stone. Here, no torches flickered on any of the columns, and Ginny guessed that it was probably too damp to keep one lit. A large pool stretched out in front of her, terminating at the jagged rock wall that marked the dungeon’s end.

“It’s not always as big as this,” Kevin said. “It seems to grow and shrink pretty regularly.”

“Really?” Ginny replied, chewing her thumbnail and scrunching her brow up thoughtfully. “Have you tried –” Before she could finish her question, a shrill, sing-songy voice called out behind them.

“Children! Dinner’s here! Where are you?” Ginny and Kevin looked at each other a moment in hesitation, and then started back up the slope toward the main part of the dungeon.

Just beyond the entrance to the stairs, Ginny saw a rather fat man levitating a tray of food in front of him, heading for the corner where Lizzie and Malfoy were. He must have heard the footsteps behind him, because he suddenly swung around.

“Oh, good! So glad to see you awake at last, Miss Weasley! My goodness! Unconscious for over two days – I was beginning to think you’d been more seriously damaged than we’d intended,” the man laughed maliciously. Ginny took in his appearance quickly – balding on top, large protruding front teeth, rat-like face – but it wasn’t until she saw his one silver arm that she knew who he was.

“Wormtail!” she hissed.

“Ah, you recognize me!” Wormtail said with a mock bow. “Though if you’d like to call me Scabbers for old times’ sake, I wouldn’t mind a bit,” he continued, laughing again.

“Where am I? Why have you taken me?” Ginny demanded furiously.

“So feisty!” replied Wormtail. “But then you always were a little spitfire as a child!” Again the cackle that Ginny was beginning to loathe with every inch of her being.

“But really,” Wormtail said as his laughter trailed off, “all of your questions will be answered in due time. Don’t you worry about it – the Dark Lord has very special plans for you.” He smiled at the two of them evilly and then continued walking toward the straw-filled corner. Reaching it, he settled the food tray on the floor with a flick of his wand, which he then tapped against the side of the water jug, muttering the Refilling Charm, and then with another sinister smile all around, he scuttled away into the gloom. Ginny began to chase after him, but then stopped, realizing that she was totally unarmed and couldn’t do much good against him.

Best come up with a plan first, she told herself. She settled back down with Kevin and Lizzie around the food tray and looked glumly at their meager meal. The tray had a few large hunks of very stale bread, and a large pot of some sort of stew. It smelled strongly of fish and didn’t look at all appetizing.

“Mmm, Seaweed Surprise!” Kevin exclaimed in mock enthusiasm. “My favorite!”

Lizzie giggled half-heartedly, and the three attempted to choke down as much of the foul dish as they could. Ginny set aside a couple of the bread chunks, and after they had eaten their fill, she went about forcing food down Malfoy’s throat. She ripped the bread into very small chunks and then soaked each piece in the remaining stew. Prying open Malfoy’s unresisting mouth, she placed a piece of the soaked bread on the very back of his tongue, and just as she’d hoped, his gag reflex took over and he swallowed the bit of food. With the patience of a saint (so she told herself), Ginny forced Malfoy to eat the rest of the bread and then ladled more water down his throat.

“I feel a bit like a mama bird,” she joked. Lizzie and Kevin laughed.

“If only we could feed him real worms,” said Lizzie, and all three laughed again. Ginny realized that she really liked the Pullmans, which made her feel even more determined to get them all out of this mess.

We’ve just got to find a way out of here, she said to herself, watching Kevin scoop a ladle full of water for his sister. Or be rescued . . . .

The three made themselves comfortable on the hay and tried to have a light-hearted conversation, mainly discussing Quidditch teams and classes at Hogwarts. After a while, Lizzie began yawning and Ginny suggested they all try to get some sleep. As Ginny lay there in the hay beside Malfoy, she thought his breathing sounded more regular. Restlessly, she turned to look at him. He was so pale, so peaceful looking.

He’s beautiful, really, Ginny thought, and then shuddered at the idea of finding Draco Malfoy attractive. Unbidden, her mind wandered back to the day last spring when she had encountered Malfoy in one of the bathrooms, a day she referred to mentally as “Malfoy Madness Day” for more than one reason . . . .

A/N: As much as I may wish to, I don't own these characters, but more importantly, I also don't own the description of the Daydream Charm. For that, see HBP, page 117. The phrase "porcelain-skinned pirate" is, sadly, all mine.

Chapter 2 – Malfoy Madness

What in the weeks to come Ginny referred to only as “Malfoy Madness Day” (with an accompanying shudder) started out innocently enough. At breakfast, one of the school owls dropped a small package off for Hermione, who after briefly glancing at the return label, stowed it furtively in her bag.

“Wha— ” began Ron, newly returned from the hospital wing and once again on speaking terms with Hermione.

“Nothing,” Hermione replied preemptively, giving him a fierce glare. He wisely decided not to push it.

As everyone began filing their way out of the Great Hall toward the first class of the day, Hermione hurried to catch up with Ginny and Dean Thomas.

“Er, I have a . . . um . . . present for you,” she said in a subdued voice to Ginny.

“Oh!” replied Ginny brightly. “Right! Dean, I’ll see you at lunch,” she said, waving him on. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and left. Hermione looked around to make sure they weren’t being observed before pulling the package out of her bag and handing it to Ginny.

“Hermione, thank you so much for ordering this for me. I can only imagine what my brothers might have done if they’d known who it was for. Might’ve refused to let me buy one, knowing them!”

Hermione laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she said. “But seriously, Ginny, be careful using it – it’s detention for sure if you get caught.”

“I will, I will,” Ginny replied.

“And . . . uh . . . let me know how it goes,” Hermione continued, a little sheepishly. “I’ve been too nervous to try mine.”

“Well,” Ginny replied, a saucy smile on her face, “I’ll give you a general idea, but I’m certainly not going to divulge the details!” Both girls giggled and parted ways.

Ginny unwrapped her package carefully during Charms. A small box labeled “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ Patented Daydream Charm ~ 30 minutes of Naughty Fun!” stared back at her temptingly. Under the label was a picture of a dashing pirate clutching a buxom woman to his side. In smaller print, the left corner of the box read “Not for under sixteens.” Ginny smiled to herself. Between the stress of studying for O.W.L.s and the constant bickering she and Dean seemed to be doing lately, she could certainly use a bit of a getaway.

And I know just who would make a perfect pirate, she thought, and then had to refrain from laughing out loud at the image of Harry’s glasses contrasting with the rest of the usual pirate get-up.

In class before lunch, as Professor Binns droned on to the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws sitting around him about the Goblin Rebellion of 1612, Ginny felt herself getting very sleepy and decided the time was right for a juicy daydream.

It was bad enough listening to Ron, Harry, and Hermione complain about this class last year, she thought. Now I have to suffer through it, too.

The clock indicated that there was just a little over a half hour until lunch. Cautiously, Ginny opened the Daydream box in her bag and extracted the piece of candy from within it. The glittery pink gumdrop she held was wrapped in a thin sheet of tissue paper on which were written the instructions: “Place in corner of mouth. As candy dissolves, so will you!” Ginny eyed the gumdrop skeptically, trying to decide whether or not the directions sounded just a bit ominous.

“Um, Luna,” she said quietly to Luna Lovegood, who, seated beside her, was absently chewing on the nub of her quill, “Will you just nudge me a bit if I start to . . . um . . . drool?”

“Sure,” replied Luna dreamily, as if there was nothing unusual in the request.

Okay, then, here goes nothing, Ginny thought, placing the gumdrop, squirrel-like, into her cheek.

As soon as the sugary taste of the gumdrop hit her tongue, the room faded away and Ginny found herself suddenly standing on the deck of a ship, the sun beating down on her and salt breezes stirring through her wavy red hair. Three things struck her at once: one, that she was experiencing the scene from two distinct points of view – a first-person who knew exactly what she was doing there, a captive of the dreadful, but very sexy, Captain Codra, and an omniscient persona who was watching the action as if it were a play; two, that a great deal of swordfighting was going on all around her; and three, that she was not so much standing on the deck of a ship as she was tied very firmly to one of the ship’s masts.

A fourth thought struck her as she glanced down at her scanty attire. Whoa, I’m more – voluptuous – than I remember being.

Ginny watched as the fighting raged on. One figure stood out from all the rest – a tall man dressed from head to foot in black. His back was to her as he fought valiantly against three assailants at once, and Ginny took the time to contemplate his very handsome form. His leather boots terminated near his knees and his tight – very tight – black pants were tucked into them. Ginny could see clearly the sinews of his long, muscular legs as her eyes traveled up them.

Nice, she thought, taking in the view.

The man wore a billowy black shirt, which Ginny just knew she would find very open at the chest when he turned around, in true, clichéd pirate fashion. He had a black scarf tied around his head, obscuring Ginny’s view of his hair. Bet it’s dark brown, Ginny thought with a smile. The man had managed to disable two of his opponents before the third turned and ran, and Ginny lost sight of him as he gave pursuit.

Slowly the fighting around her died down. Clearly, one side had won the day. Ginny began to get impatient as she waited for someone to notice her.

Surely I’m not just going to stand here tied up for the next 30 minutes? What kind of fantasy is that?

A voice suddenly spoke into her ear from behind her. “Miss me?” she heard in a soft whisper. Ginny’s body tensed as she felt hot breath on her neck and the faintest touch of lips against her earlobe.

“So sorry I had to chase your hero away. Looks like you won’t be being rescued after all,” the voice drawled with a low chuckle.

“I’ll never be yours, Captain Codra!” first-person Ginny said defiantly, as omniscient Ginny thought, Hmmm, Harry with a dark side. How fun.

“Oh, no?” Captain Codra replied more loudly, with a sneer in his voice. A hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, scraping the right side of it against the mast. “I beg to differ,” he snarled and leaned in to kiss her, hard, his lips pressed against hers so firmly that she tasted blood. First-person Ginny struggled half-heartedly against him as his tongue found its way between her clenched teeth, while omniscient Ginny found herself growing just a tad hot under the collar.

Dean’s never kissed me like that, she thought.

Just as suddenly as he had kissed her, Captain Codra pulled away and let loose his grasp on her hair. Still standing over her shoulder, he laughed mirthlessly, “Liked that didn’t you? I thought you would.”

Ginny spat on the deck in reply, her scraped cheek feeling hot and her head aching slightly.

“You’re a monster!” she hissed.

“Come now, Lady Ginevra,” replied Codra, his voice once again seductively sweet, “It wasn’t that bad. Not yet, anyway.”

Slowly he strode around to face her. At this moment, like a needle screeching across a record player, all of the fun for omniscient Ginny ground to an abrupt halt. Facing her was not a more forceful, slightly out-of-character bad boy Harry Potter, but a very in-character, perhaps even milder than usual bad boy Draco Malfoy.

Draco “Captain Codra” Malfoy stood inches from Ginny’s face, his features coldly expressionless except for a slight smirk at the corners of his mouth, his steel grey eyes locked onto her own. And as omniscient Ginny spluttered and gagged incoherently in her own head, Draco grasped first-person Ginny’s chin firmly and then leaned in again, first merely brushing his lips against hers, and then kissing her softly.

So soft, thought Ginny, temporarily distracted from the mental fit she was throwing.

Draco’s lips lingered on hers for a moment, and then he pulled away, his eyes still focused on hers. Ginny found herself unable to look away, trembling slightly as she felt his warm breath on her face, the heat radiating from his body. As if reading some request in her eyes, Draco bent and kissed her again, more urgently this time, and Ginny, unable to resist any longer, let out a small groan and began to kiss him back, her urgency matching his as she felt waves of intense heat pouring over her body. Draco released her chin and she felt his hands on her, slowly tracing their way up her ribs, his thumbs barely brushing against the undersides of her slightly enhanced breasts. And then, agonizingly, he was pulling away from her again.

“Was that more your style, my Lady?” he asked, quietly, without the trace of a sneer on his face. Ginny breathed heavily, her head spinning, unable to reply. Draco leaned into her once more, and reaching behind her cut her free, releasing her arms to her sides.

“I think I’ll have to stow you someplace – a bit quieter,” said the porcelain-skinned pirate, seizing Ginny’s wrist and dragging her, completely unresisting, away toward his cabin. Just as ravishment seemed imminent, the scene faded mistily around Ginny and she heard the voices of Fred and George.

“We hope you’ve had a lovely time in your Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ Patented Daydream!”

“For an even longer – adventure – try our new Afternoon Delights, Patent Pending!

“A guaranteed ninety minutes of fun!”

“Only one galleon each!”

Ginny found herself once again in class and sputtered, loudly, drawing a few stares from the people sitting around her. Professor Binns didn’t seem to notice.

“For next class, ten inches on the causes of the Third Goblin Rebellion, with particular emphasis on the role played by the state of drinking water in the Carpathian Mountains.”

“I didn’t see you drooling,” Luna said as everyone was packing up, “but you did have a funny twitch above your right eye. You might want to have a lie down – Dad says that there have been outbreaks of Wumbitty Warples in the area recently.”

“Thanks, Luna,” Ginny replied, not really paying attention as she quickly packed up her bag and rushed from the classroom.

Ugh, I need to rinse my mouth out! she thought as she ran for the nearest bathroom.

Entering it still completely immersed in the idea that she just had a sexual fantasy about Draco Malfoy, she came to a halt as she realized the bathroom was already occupied. Seated on one of the sinks, or rather hovering slightly above it, was Moaning Myrtle, deeply engrossed in conversation with none other than the original from Ginny’s daydream.

“I must be losing my mind,” Ginny murmured, staring in horror at the figure of Malfoy stooped over a sink, his elbows resting on either side of it and his face held in his hands. Neither Myrtle nor Malfoy had noticed Ginny enter.

“You can’t possibly understand!” Malfoy was saying impatiently, his voice catching a little. “There isn’t a right choice – nothing I can do!”

“There, there,” said Myrtle soothingly, and Ginny realized, awe-stricken, that Malfoy was actually crying. Slowly she began edging her way back, hoping with all her might that she could escape the bathroom without being seen. Luck was against her, however. Sniffing loudly, Draco raised his head and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Immediately he spun around.

“What are you doing here? Are you spying on me?” he demanded furiously.

“No, Draco – I didn’t know anyone was in here – I didn’t mean to overhear you!” Ginny replied, feeling sorry for Malfoy as she took in his grayish skin and puffy red eyes.

Draco’s face stiffened haughtily. “What did you overhear?” he asked, his voice coldly quiet.

“Not anything really . . . just something about choices. Draco, if you need someone to talk to . . .” Ginny mumbled, her voice trailing off as she realized what she was saying, and to whom.

Offended, Myrtle sniffed loudly and began, “He has someone to –” but Draco cut her off, his eyes narrowed on Ginny.

“As if I would talk to you, Weasley,” he sneered. “But you didn’t tell me why you’re here. This is the men’s room, after all. Oh,” he continued, laughing mockingly, “perhaps you haven’t learned to read yet?” His laughter suddenly turned to snarl. “And how dare you address me as an equal, you filthy blood traitor scum –”

Ginny interrupted him, enraged. “You’re right, Malfoy – you’re no equal of mine! An equal of mine would know that there is always a right choice! Maybe not an easy choice, but always a right one! They’re called morals, Malfoy! Or haven’t you learned those yet?” And without waiting for a reply, she stormed out of the bathroom.

Ginny glowered her way through lunch, snapping at Dean when he tried to kiss her and ignoring everyone else. The rest of her classes went by in a blur as she tried hard not to think about Malfoy, loathing him for making her feel both repulsed and attracted at the same time. He was such an arrogant bastard, she thought, but then she remembered how soft his lips had been as he kissed her . . . the sweetness of his breath . . . his body pressed against hers . . . .

Get a grip, Ginny! That wasn’t real!

By dinnertime, Ginny had a terrible headache and wanted nothing more than to escape into solitude. The Gryffindor common room was blissfully deserted, so she settled down in a squashy chair by the fire and rubbed her temples wearily.

“What was he crying about anyway?” she wondered aloud, her thoughts sliding hopelessly back to Malfoy. “That’s so typical. He’s all swagger and no substance. Nasty comments and bullying to hide the scared little boy inside.” And while part of her despised him, another felt as sorry for him as she had in the bathroom when she saw the tears glittering in his stormy gray eyes.

Just then, Hermione climbed through the portrait hole into the room.

“Hey, Ginny,” she said brightly, “Just grabbing my Potions book – thought I’d head over to the library to get in some extra –” She stopped abruptly, noticing the troubled expression on Ginny’s face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Something with Dean?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” replied Ginny flatly.

“Oh . . . okay,” said Hermione, registering disbelief in her voice. “Hey, did you try the Daydream Charm?”

“I did.”

“And? How was it?”

Where to begin, Ginny thought glumly. Suddenly she brightened.

“Hermione, do you think it’s possible my brothers found out the charm was for me and somehow hexed it?”

“Why? Didn’t it reveal your deep, subconscious longings? Or” – Hermione paused and then smiled playfully – “are you feeling guilty because you fantasized about someone other than your boyfriend? Because really, Ginny, no one would be surprised, or blame you, if a certain favorite Boy Wonder of ours made his way into your, er, daydream.”

Ginny sighed, seeing the look of satisfaction on Hermione’s face. Clearly she thought she had hit the nail on the head. And Ginny certainly wished she was right.

“I’d be careful using the Daydream Charm if I were you – you might get surprised,” Ginny said finally.

Hermione laughed. “Yeah, I can just imagine it – waiting breathlessly to be ravaged by the masked pirate, only to see him disrobe and reveal himself to be . . . Snape!” She laughed again, a bit nervously this time, and grabbing her Potions book from an end table she hurried off to the library.

Ginny’s dreams that night were again disturbed by images of Draco Malfoy. First she dreamed of him in the Burrow with her, standing in the darkened kitchen, his lips seeking hers with a fierce intensity as she ran her fingers through his white-blonde hair and over his smooth, pale cheeks.

“Gin,” he murmered thickly, his lips grazing her cheek. “Oh, Ginny.” There was such longing in his voice that Ginny felt like her heart would burst. And then suddenly he was gone, and Ginny was standing in her kitchen alone, feeling miserably cold. The scene shifted once more, and this time Ginny was in a room she didn’t recognize, and Draco was with her. Now he was holding up a beautiful gold locket, gazing at her with incredible sorrow in his eyes, and repeating, “It’s for you, Gin. It’s all for you.” She woke up then, her heart beating rapidly.

I really must be hexed, she thought in alarm, trying to throw off the feeling of sadness she had woken up with.

“Draco’s more likely to become a pirate than ever step foot into my home,” she murmured, and then laughed quietly to herself.

Thoughts of Malfoy Madness Day had become fewer and farther between as Ginny and Dean broke up and Ginny began dating Harry. Ginny decided to chalk it up to a short burst of insanity.

But now, as she lay in the rough straw beside Malfoy, listening to his slow, steady breathing, she felt a strange attraction rising within her again. Without thinking, Ginny reached out and gently pushed a lock of his white-blonde hair out of his eyes, the soft skin of his forehead burning beneath her fingers. As if he had felt her touch, Malfoy stirred slightly in his sleep, and Ginny quickly snatched her hand away.

“Madness,” Ginny whispered a short time later, as she drifted into sleep.

Chapter 3 – Progress is Made

Malfoy showed signs of restlessness the next time Ginny force-fed him, trying to turn his head away as she spooned what most closely resembled runny scrambled eggs flecked with something red into his mouth. She ended up having Kevin hold his head steady as she fed him each bite.

This better be worth it, Ginny thought as she glared at Malfoy’s death-pale countenance.

Leaving the Pullman siblings to keep an eye on Malfoy, Ginny wandered back to the far side of the dungeon and sat down beside the pool. Cold moisture, like the gossamer strands of a spider’s web, clung to the bare skin of her arms and face and tangled itself in her limp red hair, but the dank gloom surrounding the pool matched her mood. Based on her calculations, she had been here about four days, and still there was no sign of a rescue.

Four days! Four days, and nothing done, no one here to save me! When I was dragged – possessed by a fragment of Voldemort himself – into the Chamber of Secrets, Harry rescued me in a matter of hours!

Ginny shivered as she remembered the terror of being so near death, frozen in her own body, unable to move or even to cry out. Harry came, and with shining sword and phoenix song, she had been saved. He had been like the hero from a fairy tale, and in her heart she had worshipped him. But now, when surely he loved her, he had not come. Hot tears mixed with the cold dampness on her cheeks. Ginny suddenly realized how frightened she was, away from her family and friends, no Harry, no Ron, no Hermione to help her. She was on her own.

It’s up to me, she thought grimly, and the only progress I’ve made is keeping Malfoy alive, which might not count as progress at all. The futility of her situation sat like a cold pit in her stomach. Even if Malfoy knew exactly where they were, and exactly why they were there, what good would that do? How could it possibly get them all out of there?

Glumly she stared at the black water, and noticed that it had receded a few feet from her. Ginny took in the wet ground now visible at her feet, and slowly, the faintest ray of hope dawned on her.

“Only one way to find out,” she murmured, and began pulling off her trainers and socks.

-----

Some time later, Ginny was sitting in the hay with Kevin and Lizzie, eyeing Malfoy warily. He had regained consciousness once, while Ginny had been absent, but after muttering some choice curse words, he had drifted off again. Ginny thought it was a definite sign of improvement.

Malfoy rolled his head slightly and let out a soft groan. Slowly he opened his eyes and stared dully around him.

“Morning, sunshine!” Ginny said brightly as his gaze rested on her. Malfoy winced, perhaps in pain, perhaps at the cheerfulness in Ginny’s voice.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him, her tone more serious.

“Alive,” he croaked weakly.

“And I’m sorry for that, truly,” Ginny replied. “But I will keep you that way until you help us.”

Malfoy turned his face to the ceiling and groaned again in reply. Ginny, Kevin and Lizzie exchanged a glance and then looked to Malfoy expectantly.

“Water,” he finally croaked. Ginny nodded to Lizzie, who hurried over to the jug and filled the ladle. Taking it from her, Ginny approached Malfoy and stooped to raise his head to the ladle. As if her touch had burned him, Malfoy hissed sharply and recoiled. Quickly Ginny pulled her hand away.

“Lift your own damn head then,” she snapped. Glowering at her, he tried weakly to push himself into a sitting position, but was unable to do so.

“Here,” Kevin said. “Let me.” And without waiting for Malfoy’s response, he roughly hauled him up and leaned him against the stone wall. Ginny held the ladle to his mouth, careful not to touch him, and he drank deeply, his eyes still narrowed on her in rage.

“It’s your own fault,” Ginny said coolly, reading his expression.

“Dare . . . touch me . . .” he gasped.

It was Ginny’s turn to narrow her eyes. “As if I wanted to touch such a coward and a . . . a murderer as you!” she hissed, and was infuriated when he only smiled in reply.

“A coward, yes,” he said softly, almost to himself. “But if I were a murderer, I wouldn’t be here.” Ginny snorted in disbelief, but he ignored her.

“Why,” he continued, “do you think I can . . . or will . . . help you?”

“Basic human decency would be my first answer,” Ginny said, “but I suppose that would mean nothing to you. I’d think, though, that you’d at least be interested in saving your own miserable skin.”

“And don’t you think I’d have done something already if there was a way out of here?” he snapped. “Don’t you think I’d have tried to escape already if it were possible – if there was someplace to go? No, Weasley, you’d do better to follow my advice. Starve yourself, die on your own terms – it will be better than what they’ve got planned.”

“What, what do they have planned?” Ginny asked, wanting to shake him in her frustration.

Malfoy gave a low chuckle.

“Ask the brats about what happened to the other one,” he said. Kevin inhaled sharply.

“What ‘other one’ is he talking about?” Ginny asked, turning to Kevin. Kevin glanced down at his hands, his shoulders slumping forward.

“When we got here, you know,” he started awkwardly, “we weren’t alone. This git was here” – he nodded toward Malfoy – “and so was Miranda Vale, she was in Ravenclaw with me – a fourth year. But . . . but,” he faltered, “they came and took her away with them.”

“Who took her?”

“I don’t know – bunch of ‘em in black robes. We didn’t even see their faces.”

“And she screamed and screamed!” said Lizzie, beginning to cry. “She screamed at us to help her!”

“There was nothing we could do,” Kevin whispered, his voice choked. “We just sat here, glad it wasn’t one of us . . . .”

Ginny rounded on Malfoy, icy fear filling her chest. “What happened to her?” she demanded, her voice steel-edged.

Malfoy regarded her carefully, his face blank of all expression. “Food,” he said finally.

“Food? What? Are the Death Eaters eating children now?”

“Not the Death Eaters. Not yet, anyway,” Malfoy said with a faint smirk. “No, food for the Dark Lord’s favorite . . . pet.”

The sickening truth dawned on Ginny.

“Do you mean that giant snake? The one that almost killed my dad?”

“Apparently it has a taste for the young. The innocence, the purity, the tender flesh . . .” Malfoy shrugged. “Feeds once, twice a month. In fact, I bet they’ll be coming for one of these wee bairns any time now.”

“What? Don’t you get a turn?” Ginny asked, her voice hot with anger at his complete indifference.

Malfoy laughed. “No, little weasel, I just get the pleasure of watching you all come and go. Part of the Dark Lord’s sense of humor. He knows I’d rather be dead, so . . . he keeps me alive.”

Ginny shuddered at the thought. “How long have you been here, then?”

“Don’t know. How long since the night – the night . . . .” Malfoy trailed off, unable to finish the question.

“The night you helped Snape murder Dumbledore?” Ginny asked harshly. “It’s been over a month now.”

Malfoy sighed. “That long then,” he said.

Ginny felt her rage at him abating. He looked so weak, so broken, his hair falling in his eyes, his hands lying limply, palms up, in the hay at his sides.

“Where exactly are we?” she asked, more gently.

“Dagonet Castle. South of London on the Channel. Death Eaters’ stronghold. Completely unplottable and protected by so much magic it can never be penetrated. Believe me, there is no way out of here.”

There was a pause as they all sat there, digesting Malfoy’s last remark. Finally, Ginny spoke, measuring her words carefully.

“If – if – I knew of a way we could escape, would you three be willing to risk it? It will be dangerous, and . . . and –”

“And we could be killed?” Kevin interrupted. “Ginny, they’re going to kill us anyway. I’m in.”

“Me, too,” said Lizzie, her voice full of nervous excitement. All eyes turned to Malfoy, who was studying Ginny intently, a strange look on his face.

“Help me up,” he abruptly barked at Kevin. Dumbly, Kevin rose to comply.

“Wait, Malfoy, where are you going?” Ginny demanded as he struggled to his feet and leaned heavily on Kevin’s shoulder.

“I’m going to relieve myself, Weasley, if you’ve no objections. Oh, yeah, I forgot how interested you are in my bathroom activity – so rude of me. Would you like to come watch?”

Ginny felt her cheeks redden as he stumbled off toward the garderobe, Kevin at his side.

When he returned, panting faintly from the exertion, he merely said, “I might as well. It might be a quicker way to die.”

-----

When Wormtail brought the next meal, he seemed to be paying particular attention to Lizzie, leering at her and complimenting her on her health, and this made Ginny very nervous.

If we are going to do it, it has to be soon.

“Malfoy, are you strong enough to walk?” Ginny asked as they were finishing their pitiful meal of stale bread and more Seaweed Surprise.

“I can walk,” he replied, eyeing her inquisitively.

“Let’s go, then – something I want you to see.” Ginny was a little taken aback when Malfoy didn’t protest her command, but merely rose to accompany her.

Dungeon life seems to have taken some of the fight out of him.

“We’ll be right back,” Ginny said over her shoulder to Lizzie and Kevin.

Despite Malfoy’s assertion, navigating through the rubble-strewn dungeon was proving difficult for him. When he nearly fell for the third time, Ginny lost her patience.

“Just lean on me, will you? It won’t kill you, and I promise not to tell anyone,” she snapped. Malfoy eyed her coldly for a moment, and then roughly grasped her shoulder.

“I bet you’re just loving this, Weasley,” he snarled.

“No, actually. Seeing someone else in pain’s never really been my thing. I’m not like you, you know. And the name’s Ginny – Weasley is my brother.”

“I know what your name is – it’s just that it’s so . . . boring.”

“So sorry not to have a really look-at-me-I-love-the-Dark-Arts kind of name like Draco! I mean, honestly, what were your parents thinking? Why didn’t they just tattoo the Dark Mark on your forehead when you were a baby?”

“Draco is an old family name, I’ll have you know. It’s been passed down for generations. That’s what wizarding families with pride do.”

Ginny didn’t rise to the bait, and instead returned, “So your family just uses the same name over and over again? I don’t know – that sounds a little boring to me.”

Out of the corner of her eye Ginny thought she saw just the flicker of a smile cross Malfoy’s face, but he didn’t reply and the two walked on in silence.

As Ginny led the way to the pool in the far corner of the dungeon, she was painfully aware of Malfoy’s hand gripping her shoulder, his long fingers burning through the fabric of her thin t-shirt. The gloom and the silence surrounded them like a kind of intimacy, and Ginny felt a chill run up her spine. She was relieved when they finally reached their destination and she was able to pull away, breaking their contact. Malfoy stood silently, unmoving, as if he, too, had been strangely affected by their silent walk.

Finally coming out of his reverie, he said, “Is this what you wanted me to see? Because, sorry to say, I’ve already visited and wasn’t impressed.”

“So you’ve seen it,” Ginny replied. “Did you pay attention to how it changes?”

Malfoy raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“It’s been growing and shrinking regularly – cyclically,” Ginny said.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“It’s the tide! The tide is coming in and out through here, and that means there’s a way out through the wall!”

Malfoy turned to the pool again with renewed interest.

“This side of the castle is carved out of a cliff jutting into the Channel,” he said thoughtfully, “but an opening for water doesn’t necessarily mean and opening for people.”

“That’s true,” Ginny said, nodding her head, “but given the amount of change and the speed of it, I know the opening has to be quite large. I – I tried to get a look at it myself, but the water was up to my neck when I got halfway out, and – well, I can’t swim.” Ginny hated that she’d had to admit a weakness to him.

“I see,” Malfoy replied, smiling faintly. “And you couldn’t get one of the babies to do it?”

“Well, they’re just so –”

“Useless?” Malfoy cut in.

“Young, I was going to say.”

“And so you’d rather risk my neck? In my weakened condition, no less?”

It was Ginny’s turn to smile. “I didn’t think it would be much risk for you,” she said, her voice sugary sweet. “I read somewhere that ferrets are excellent swimmers.” Malfoy eyed her narrowly.

“Funny,” he said as he undid the clasp to his robe, “I thought the same applied to weasels.” He tossed the black robe on the ground near one of the columns and began undoing his dress shirt. Ginny realized that under the robe he was still in school uniform – another indication of how very long he had been trapped down here.

“What? Like what you see?” Malfoy’s voice broke across her mind. Ginny realized she had been staring at him, hard, and that he was now shirtless.

“Sorry,” she murmured, feeling her cheeks redden once again in response to his taunts.

She hadn’t been looking at him – like that – but now, as he undid his belt buckle, Ginny cast furtive glances in his direction. He was far too thin – the sharp curves of his ribs were visible beneath his pale skin – but the long, sinewy muscles on his arms spoke of strength, and the milky whiteness of his chest looked so soft, so inviting. Ginny felt the burn in her cheeks increasing – if it were possible – as Malfoy slid out of his trousers and stood before her in nothing more than a pair of black satin boxers. His legs matched his arms – long, lean muscle – the perfect build for a Seeker, Ginny thought appraisingly. Harry was built the same way, not that Ginny had ever even seen him shirtless – he had liked to take things slowly and had a regard for Ginny’s chasteness that she found irritating at times. With a guilty start, Ginny realized that she had been comparing Harry, the man she loved, to Draco Malfoy, and, Merlin save her, she had found Malfoy very, very attractive.

“Wish me luck,” Malfoy said, and waded out into the water; when it reached slightly above his waist he leaned forward and dove in, his body sliding gracefully through the murk like a shooting star cutting across a midnight sky. He reached the far wall in a matter of minutes and began edging along it, slowly bobbing up and down as he tread water. Suddenly he dove under and Ginny lost all sight of him. She held her breath, tensing, and when he didn’t surface after half a minute had passed away she began to panic.

He’s going to drown . . . he’s going to drown, ran through her head and she made for the water, determined to go in after him, ability to swim or no ability to swim. But before she had the chance to jump in, she saw him surface and begin slowly swimming back.

Malfoy pulled himself out of the water and threw himself down beside it, eyes closed and panting heavily. He draped one arm over his forehead and looked utterly spent.

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked urgently, kneeling at his side. He only nodded, still trying to catch his breath. She waited silently and patiently by his side as his breathing slowly became more normal.

“You were right,” he finally said in a weak voice, “the opening is large. I felt the pull of the tide when I came near it – must be going out. I swam down and found it – not hard when the water is tugging you along – and it’s big enough to enter. I went along it for a little way . . . but I don’t think we’ll be able to get out that way.”

“Why not?” Ginny asked, alarm in her voice.

“For one, it’s absolutely black down there – I couldn’t see a thing, just had to feel my way along. And it’s possible the tunnel has multiple openings. We could end up taking a wrong turn and drown. The other problem is that we won’t be able to breathe long enough to make it out – I only made it a few feet before I had to turn back, and this tunnel could very well be quite long. It is, after all, carved into the base of a cliff. I just don’t see how it can be done.”

Ginny ruminated a moment. “I had kind of expected that might be the case. After all, it would be too good to be true if it were only a matter of ducking under a wall and coming up in the Channel. I think, though, that I have a way to solve both the lack of light and the breathing trouble, but it will take all four of us to carry it out.” Malfoy opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow expectantly. “No, I’ll explain when we get back to the others,” Ginny said, beginning to stand up. She was surprised when Malfoy grabbed her wrist.

“Not yet,” he rasped out, “I need to rest a moment.” Ginny sat back down beside him and eyed him warily as he lay there, making no move to rise and dress. She was again surprised when he spoke.

“Have you wondered why I’m down here?” he asked in a voice that clearly invited the question.

“I did. What happened?”

“Cowardice,” Malfoy replied. “You know . . . you know I couldn’t do it, right? Couldn’t kill that old fool. I was too scared – I panicked. Snape stepped in and –” He broke off and shrugged. “We came back here. The Dark Lord already knew of my failure, and he was waiting for me . . . with my father.”

“I read about his escape from Azkaban,” Ginny murmured.

Malfoy’s lips curled into a slight sneer. “My father, ever ready to prove his loyalty to his master, offered to perform the Killing Curse on me himself. He would have, too, without the slightest hesitation, but the Dark Lord said he had another way to make me . . . useful.” Malfoy’s voice trembled slightly as if he could hear Voldemort’s high-pitched tone still echoing through his head.

Ginny was silent, filled with pity for Malfoy. She couldn’t imagine a father so cold, so cruel to his only child. Malfoy pulled himself up, his weight resting on his elbows, and he looked at her, gauging her reaction. Ginny found herself unable to meet his searching gaze and looked dumbly at the wet earth, the small space between them. When he spoke next she was caught totally off guard.

“You tried to be kind to me – that day – in the bathroom.”

“Don’t know what I was thinking,” Ginny replied, her voice low.

“And you were right, what you said,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her.

“Right about what?”

“You said something about choices – how there was always a right one – you were right.”

“I’m . . . touched . . . you remember,” Ginny replied, her tone a mix of faint sarcasm and genuine surprise.

“Shame I didn’t listen to you,” he said, his voice bitter.

Ginny could think of nothing to say in response.

Malfoy stood awkwardly, still clearly shaky from his exertion, and Ginny followed suite. He pulled his trousers on in silence while Ginny stooped to retrieve his shirt. As she straightened up, shirt in hand, she realized that he had moved closer to her, close enough for her to take in the salty smell of his bare skin.

“Um . . . here,” she said faintly, holding out the shirt and cursing herself silently for the slight tremor she felt at his nearness. Wordlessly he grasped it, his fingers brushing against hers. Ginny, completely distracted by a strange gleam in his gray eyes, realized suddenly that she hadn’t let go, that the tips of his fingers rested lightly on the back of her hand. She gasped and pulled away, reaching for his robe as she tried to cover up the sudden flush she knew was visible on her face. When she turned back to him with it, he was buttoning up his shirt, his face void of expression except for the still-strange gleam in his eyes.

“Guess we’d better get back huh, Ginny?” he said softly, taking the robe from her and turning to make his way up the incline toward the main part of the dungeon. Ginny stared after him for a moment, feeling as if she’d been standing too close to a furnace. Then, with a shake of her head, she followed.

-----

Ginny worked hard to avoid Malfoy’s gaze as she explained her plan to everyone. Kevin was impressed with her for discovering the exit through the pool and even more impressed that she knew how to do a Bubblehead Charm. Both children seemed frightened but excited about the roles they would play in the escape. Malfoy, though not evidently enthused, nodded in agreement.

“It might work,” he said with a slight shrug.

Silence fell over them as they sat there, waiting tensely for the sing-songy voice that would call them into action, and Ginny found herself once again stealing glances at Malfoy.

What happened back there? she asked herself, absolutely sure that something had happened, and that Malfoy knew it, too.

Speaking quickly before she could think better of it, Ginny said, “I don’t think you’re a coward, Draco. I think, maybe, that you have a heart.”

Chapter 4 - Dark Water, Bright Stars, and the Dawn

Ginny must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Kevin was urgently shaking her.

"It's time!" he hissed. Quickly the four moved into their positions as they heard Wormtail threading his way toward them through the columned dungeon.

He's actually humming, that evil bastard! Ginny thought, a shudder of revulsion running up her spine.

"Now!" she whispered to Lizzie who nodded fearfully and ran off toward Wormtail. Her voice carried back to Ginny.

"Sir! Sir! It's Draco Malfoy, sir! We think he's dead! He's not moving and we don't think he's breathing anymore!" Wormtail's humming cut off abruptly and Ginny thought she heard him mutter a few curses. He hurried into view and quickly set down the tray he had been levitating in front of him.

"The Dark Lord will not be pleased, no, not at all! He still has plans for the boy!" Wormtail wrung his hands nervously. "Are you certain he's dead?"

"We don't know for sure," Ginny replied. "We didn't want to get too close - he kinda smells." The part of her that wasn't half-terrified at what they were about to do was keenly satisfied that Draco wouldn't be able to retort to that comment.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" Wormtail muttered as he approached Draco. He leaned close, apparently to prod Draco in the face with his wand, when suddenly Draco's knee came up and connected squarely with Wormtail's nose. It shattered, spraying blood everywhere and sending Wormtail staggering backwards. Immediately, Kevin hit him from behind with the iron ladle. Wormtail, temporarily blinded by the blood covering his face, was thrown off balance and fell against one of the columns, his wand skittering off across the floor. This was the moment Lizzie had been waiting at his side for - quickly she fetched it and tossed it to Ginny.

"Petrificus Totalis!" Ginny shouted, pointing Wormtail's wand at him just as he, coward as ever, morphed in an attempt to escape. The four of them gathered around to look at the fat, bloodied, frozen rat.

"Give me the wand, Ginny," Draco said quietly, his pale face flecked with blood that was not his. "At least there will be one less Death Eater because of me."

Ginny shook her head and clutched the wand tighter. "No, Draco. You're not a murderer, remember? We'll leave him here - hopefully he won't be missed for a while." Draco looked at her for a long moment, and then silently nodded.

"Right," Ginny said. "We need to go, and quickly." The four made their way to the far end of the dungeon and paused before the pool.

"I'll lead," Draco said, "but it's going to be pitch black down there and we'll need to stay together. Hold hands and don't let go." Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Spiramentum!" she chanted, performing the Bubble-Head charm for each of them and herself. Slowly they waded into the pool, and Ginny's chest constricted in panic as the water crept up around her head even though she knew she was perfectly fine. Draco took the wand from her and she saw him mouth the word Lumos as the wand tip erupted in silvery light. He grasped her hand tightly, she held Lizzie's behind her, and Kevin brought up the rear.

The murky water of the pool was nothing to the darkness of the tunnel they entered, feeling the current pull them along. All Ginny could see was the faint circle of light cast by the wand reflecting off of the bubble around Draco's head, his face a mask of grim determination. They walked on in the silent blackness for what seemed an eternity, faltering occasionally over unseen rocks. Once, Ginny thought she felt something brush past her and tensed in alarm, waiting to be attacked by some monster of the deep; once she thought she felt Draco squeeze her hand in reassurance. It was dream-like, and Ginny felt strangely detached as she stumbled along in the cold, watery tunnel, the darkness the color of nightmare, the color of death. Ginny's universe was only Draco, silvery-pale before her, his hand holding hers, pulling her along, steadying her when she slipped. Only vaguely was she aware that her other cold-numbed hand still clung to Lizzie's.

After a time, Ginny realized that they had left the tunnel. The current had ceased to pull at her, and out of the gloom, she could faintly see large beds of seaweed rising from the ocean floor. Draco turned and gave her a tense smile and the four continued on. Now the ground was steadily rising upwards and becoming more rocky. More than once they were forced to navigate around the massive boulders blocking their path. When Ginny's head finally broke the surface of the water, she was surprised at the frantic motion of the waves crashing around her; it was so different from the stillness of the deep.

The last twenty yards to shore were the hardest. The four fought their way through the water as wave after wave sought to throw them against the rocks looming around them in the dark night. Their bubbles proved enormously helpful, keeping the salt spray out of their mouths and eyes.

When they made it those last few feet, the saltwater splashing around their ankles, when Draco quickly mouthed Finite Incantatum toward each of them and then himself, when they stood breathlessly on the shore under that starry sky, then Ginny allowed joy to bubble and surge through her.

We did it! We actually did it! We're free!

In a rush of exuberance, she threw her arms around Draco, hugging him tightly and feeling wonderfully alive again. Her excitement was checked abruptly when she felt his rigidness against her, his arms frozen at his sides.

"Sorry," she muttered, not looking up at his face, not wanting to see the disdainful expression she was sure was plastered all over it.

Funny, he seemed almost, well, human in that dungeon. I guess once a prat, always a prat.

Ginny shrugged off the faint tinge of disappointment she felt and rushed to embrace the Pullman siblings, who were hugging, jumping up and down, and chanting "We did it! We did it!" all at once.

Behind them, Malfoy cleared his throat loudly.

"Not to interrupt your - prancing - but we're hardly out of danger yet. You do recall, I hope, that a little way down the shore sits a castle full of Death Eaters, a castle guarded by Dementors who may even now know of our disappearance and be searching for us? This is hardly the time for celebrating - unless of course you want to draw attention to yourselves and become, once again, snakebait?"

His words had a sobering effect on all of them.

"Malfoy's right," Ginny said. "We need to put as much distance between us and that castle as we can."

"Can't one of you just apparate us all out of here?" asked Kevin.

Ginny and Draco exchanged a look.

"I haven't taken lessons yet," Ginny said.

"I was - distracted - by other things last year, and never properly applied myself during lessons," Draco said haughtily.

"Which is just a snooty way of saying you don't know how to either," Ginny snapped at him. He ignored her.

"It would be unwise of us to use any sort of magic out here," he continued. "Even a small spell would alert the Dementors to our whereabouts."

"You mean, we're going to have to . . . to Muggle our way home?" Lizzie asked, a faint expression of horror on her face. Ginny almost laughed.

"We can do it," she said firmly. "We've already gotten past the hard part." And secretly, she hoped they had.

-----

They made their way inland heading northwest, staying within a thick forest of oaks, pines and massive wych elms. The tall trees stood in sharp relief against the starry night sky. The evening was unseasonably cool for the end of June, and while it quickly dried their wet clothes, it left them shiveringly cold as they stumbled along. None of them had slept in the last twenty hours, and exhaustion was beginning to set in.

"I'm tired. I want to stop," Ginny heard Lizzie murmuring behind her.

"Shhh, Liz, just a bit farther," Kevin said, flashing her a tense but comforting smile.

Ginny halted. "She's right - we're all on the point of collapsing. We need to rest."

"Why are we stopped?" Draco asked, his voice registering surprised annoyance. Apparently, he had walked a few yards ahead before realizing that no one was following him.

"We've been walking for hours. We're tired. We need to sleep before one of us keels over."

The look of annoyance on Draco's face deepened. He glared at Ginny, seemingly searching for the right words for his reply. It dawned on Ginny then that he was going to leave them, that they were just slowing him down.

He doesn't need us anymore, so he's just going to go!

The same thought seemed to have occurred to Draco, because at that moment he turned silently from them and continued walking.

"Malfoy!" Ginny could hear the panic and pleading in her voice, but she didn't care.

He can't leave! He can't! What will I -

Draco's shoulders tensed as if Ginny's voice had hit him squarely in the back and he turned around to look at her once more. His face was an expressionless mask.

"We'll make camp under that elm. That will at least afford us cover from any dementors flying overhead."

Ginny nodded faintly as a wave of relief washed over her.

Draco offered to take the first watch, sinking to the ground with his back against the elm and Ginny, Lizzie and Kevin curled up to sleep around it. Ginny tucked her knees up against her chest and rested her head in the nook of her bent elbow, trying to feel warm and comfortable enough to sleep. From the heavy rhythmic breathing on either side of her, she gathered that the Pullmans were not having the same problem. She felt tense all over, and realized that she was straining her ears to hear any movement Draco, seated behind her, made.

Maybe he's waiting 'til we're all asleep. Doesn't want to make a scene. He'll just disappear into the night. What if he was lying about not being able to apparate? He's got the wand - God, I just know he's going to be gone when I wake up. Panic was beginning to creep in around the edges of her thoughts, and Ginny forced herself to take a long, steadying breath. It doesn't really matter, does it? I mean, so he leaves - we'll be fine. It's not like we need him, either. But Ginny felt like she was lying to herself. Since Draco's recovery from the brink of death, he had been taking care of things, shouldering some of the responsibility that felt so frighteningly heavy to Ginny. Because that's what had been so bad about being stuck in that dungeon - knowing that she was on her own, that she couldn't just hide behind Harry, that her life and even the lives of others were in her hands for the very first time, and that she wasn't sure she was strong enough to handle it. And now I want to hide behind Malfoy. Some Gryffindor I am - always looking for the next hero to come rescue me. She hated herself bitterly at that moment, even as every muscle in her body tensed, fervently hoping that Malfoy would just stay there, just stay with her . . . .

"Where would I go?"

Ginny tensed, unsure of whether Malfoy had actually spoken or if she was becoming unhinged. Deciding it was the former, she sat up and turned to face him.

"What?"

"I asked you where you thought I would go." He was looking at her with mild curiosity.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

"I can tell when someone's only pretending to sleep - especially when they're doing a really poor job of it. And that's what I'd be thinking, if I were you."


"Well, are you going to leave?" Us . . . me?

"To be frank, the thought occurred to me. These brats are exceedingly slow. But the painful fact remains to me, that I have nowhere to go."

"What do you mean?"

He laughed softly.

"No, of course - you wouldn't have considered it. Here it is, then. My father would very much like to see me dead, as would his - friends - and Voldemort will certainly not be pleased that I have escaped him. Embarrassment alone will probably cause him to search for me extensively. My doting mother, who I am sure would want to help me, would never disobey her husband. So much for 'my side.' On the other side is the Ministry and that little rag-tag group you and all your friends belong to. Wouldn't they love to get their hands on me? After all, I may not have said the words, but I'm responsible for Dumbledore's death, I let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. I'm sure they'd like nothing more than to give me a speedy trial and then lock me up in Azkaban for the rest of my miserable life. No,- he sighed heavily, - I have nowhere to go."

"Malfoy, that's not true! Nobody blames you for what happened" - well, that was a lie, Ginny thought - plenty of people, including Harry, blamed him - "I mean, Voldemort would have killed you if you hadn't gone through with it! Look what he did even when you tried to go through with it! And besides, you're under-age. You can't be sent to Azkaban when you're under-age."

"I'll be of age in a few weeks. And you're wrong. The Ministry would love to have someone to pin all of this on publicly. They've been floundering around hopelessly all year."

Ginny silently agreed with him. The Ministry was spectacularly botching the war so far.

"The Order will protect you, Malfoy. You have my word. I'll tell them that you saved me, that you saved Lizzie and Kevin. That's got to be worth something. I know my mum doesn't blame you I heard her talking about it."

Draco shook his head. "I didn't save you. It was your plan, and you would have gotten out of there with or without my help."

"I don't know," Ginny said with a slight smile. "You were awfully handy at breaking Wormtail's nose."

"I've had practice," Draco said darkly, a half-smile creeping onto his face in return.

Ginny became earnest again. "Please trust me," she said. "All we have to do is get to the Burrow, and everything will be alright - for you and for me."

Draco didn't respond to this, perhaps out of disbelief. Instead he said, "I thought we were on a first-name basis. What happened?"

The smile vanished from Ginny's face. She decided to be honest with him. "Well, I tried to hug you, but you just acted like such an enormous prat. As if you might catch something from coming in contact with me."

"Ah. Well. I'm not exactly - comfortable - with, ah, affectionate displays." That was certainly true, Ginny thought, she had seen him wincing under his mother's embraces often enough before they all boarded the Hogwarts Express.

"And," Draco smiled now, "with a Weasley hugging a Malfoy, I thought the sky might fall next."

He looks so nice when he smiles, Ginny thought, and flashed him a smile in return.

"I admit - I surprise myself sometimes."

"I'll bet you do," he replied with an arch look. Ginny felt unaccountably like blushing again.

Suddenly Kevin's voice interrupted. "Look, could you two just kiss and make up already? Some of us are trying to sleep."

Ginny winced at his word choice. "Er, sorry Kev," she murmured. "Gï'night, Draco."

"Sleep well, Ginny."

Ginny nestled down beside Lizzie and this time had no trouble falling asleep. When she awoke, it was to the first fragments of birdsong in the air. The sun was not yet up, but the sky had perceptibly lightened, an indication that dawn was approaching. Despite the tree root digging into her ribs, she felt almost comfortable. For Ginny, early morning had always been the best time of the day. When she was very young, she used to sneak out to the broomshed in the morning before anyone else was up and "borrow" her older brothers' brooms. She taught herself to fly in those early morning hours, when the sun was just beginning to flash from behind the trees and the air was laden with dew. Flying for her was exhilarating - it was one of the only times Ginny actually felt in control, totally independent, with no one older than her telling her what to do or babying her. It's what made her feel like she deserved to be in Gryffindor in the first place (besides the fact that it was a bit of a family tradition); she felt she had proven her mettle by soaring over the trees all alone each morning. Sometimes Ginny wondered where that little girl had gone. After her first year at Hogwarts, when she had nearly caused so many deaths through her foolishness with Tom's diary, she felt unsure of herself, distrustful of her own strength. Fear of making another big mistake had perhaps made her more reliant on Harry. It was part of what made her so glad to have Draco through all of this.

Ginny sat up and yawned leisurely. She noticed that beside her, Lizzie was now snuggling comfortably beneath Draco's robe. He must have covered her with it in the night, an action that both surprised and pleased Ginny.

Who knew he could be so thoughtful? she wondered to herself, glancing over at him. He was still propped up against the trunk of the wych elm, but his head sagging on one shoulder indicated that he had fallen asleep.

No wonder - he was supposed to wake me up hours ago for my turn at watch. Well, no sense waking him up now just to tell him to lay down and go to sleep, Ginny thought, stretching her arms out above her head and trying to roll the cricks out of her neck. Her stomach rumbled mutinously and visions of sausages, blueberry muffins, and syrupy pancakes danced through her head. Idly, she glanced around, wondering if there were any twigs or leaves nearby that would give her the same satisfaction as one of her mother's Saturday breakfasts. They had set up camp (if it can be called setting up camp when you are just throwing yourself onto the ground to sleep) close to the edge of the forest, and Ginny could see the opening to a large field beyond. Quietly, so as not to wake the others, she rose to get a closer look at it.

The field bordering this part of the woods was large, swelling uphill and out of Ginny's sight. It was a wild tangle of long grasses, nettle, pink-blossomed sweet briar, and purple-headed thistle. The sun rising just beyond it spread a rosy haze over everything. If Ginny had been out for a stroll, she might have considered it one of the loveliest places she had ever seen. Instead, she looked at the idyllic scene in dismay, thinking that unless she were ready to stoop to eating insects so soon, she would find little by way of food here. But as she was turning to head back to her sleeping friends, a wonderful sight met her eyes. To her right, running down the length of the field as far as Ginny could see, was a row of bushes covered in small, dark berries.

"Blackberries!" Ginny exclaimed, plucking a ripe berry and popping it into her mouth. It was juicy and sweet and tart all at the same time, and Ginny couldn't remember anything ever tasting so good. Best of all, there were enough blackberry bushes to feed a small army, let alone the four of them. Eagerly, Ginny began gathering a handful, eating as she went, thinking to bring some back to show the others. She was surprised when Draco burst from the woods on her left and franticly rushed over to her.

"Where were you?" he demanded breathlessly, grabbing her wrist roughly. "What are you doing?"

Ginny faltered, seeing the enraged expression on his face. "I've been right here. Why? Has something happened?" She was worried now.

"Something happened? You disappeared, that's what happened! I must have nodded off, and next thing I know, you're gone. What were you thinking? I thought something happened to you - that they got you somehow, when I was supposed to be watching, and . . and -" Draco cut off abruptly, drawing a deep breath and smoothing his face into its usual composure.

"It was a stupid thing to do," he muttered.

"I'm sorry," Ginny replied. "I just thought I'd have a look around - you were all sleeping so peacefully. And look - " she held up her berry-filled hand - "I found breakfast."

"I've been going out of my mind thinking you were dead, and you've been here enjoying a light snack?"

"I'm really sorry, Draco. I didn't mean to worry you."

Draco didn't respond right away. He looked at her, his expression inscrutable, and then finally said, "You are a Weasley."

Ginny eyed him inquisitively. "And you are a Malfoy," she replied in a tone which faintly suggested that her listener was a few knuts short of a sickle.

"You and your family are poor and always have been."

"You and your family are a bunch of snobs and always have been. Where are we going with this?"

"You regularly consort with muggle-borns, half-breeds, and other such undesirable company."

"The closest things to friends you have are the Death Eaters. And, oh yeah, they want you dead! Seriously, are we playing a game of state the obvious here? Because not to state the obvious, but this talk - not so fun."

"I'm simply trying to set the parameters by which to judge how wrong, how insane, and how utterly foolish this is."

"What are you talking about?"

Instead of replying, Draco leaned in and kissed her, lightly brushing her lips with his own.

"Oh. That," Ginny murmured weakly before Draco kissed her once again, more firmly now, his hands cupping her face.

Ginny felt like there were dragons doing somersaults in her stomach as she began to kiss him back. She parted her lips slightly and Draco slid his tongue lightly over her bottom lip. It was tantalizing, and Ginny's mouth opened wider as she made a small sound of pleasure in the back of her throat. Draco deepened the kiss, his tongue meeting hers, softly, hesitantly at first and then urgently as they explored each other's mouths in wild abandon. Draco pulled away only to trail light kisses up the bridge of her nose and across her forehead. He tilted her head back and looked into her eyes.

"I feel like I've wanted to do that forever," he said. Ginny's brain was still whirling and she couldn't think of a reply. The full meaning of his statement finally sunk in.

"You've wanted to kiss me for forever?" she asked skeptically.

"Well, at least since you stared at me so wantonly by the pool."

"That must have been almost two days ago, now. I admire your restraint," Ginny said with a wry smile, feeling like she could finally think straight again.

"I don't know what it is about you, Ginny Weasley, that affects me so. Is it this impossibly red hair?" - he curled a lock around his finger - "or all these freckles?" - he next traced his finger along her cheekbone - "or is it these . . . purple lips? Merlin, woman, your tongue is black!"

"I ate a lot of berries," Ginny replied, a sheepish expression on her face. "And besides, Draco, at this point, your tongue's looking a little black, too."

Thus it was that though she had kissed him in her dreams, and in a charm-induced fantasy, the first real kiss between Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy took place at the edge of a flower-filled field, at dawn. Ginny thought with a smile that reality could sometimes surprise you.

---
A/N: "Spiramentum" is Latin for a figurative space to breathe. I thought it would be fun to use it literally for the Bubble-Head Charm.

Chapter 5 – Muggling Home


A jackdaw circled lazily over a field, searching for snails and berries in the scrub below. The early morning sun gleamed off its wings, which flashed iridescent blues and greens as the bird wheeled in a widening arc, heading steadily southward. It gave a few languid flaps, distracted suddenly from its hunt by the sight of a strange herd already feeding on its favorite berry bushes. Its prospect of an easy meal ruined by these unexpected interlopers, the jackdaw gave a raucous “Caw!” and flew off.

Below, the strange “herd” continued grazing. Two witches and two wizards were spread out along a row of blackberry bushes, eating silently and contentedly. If the jackdaw had continued its observation, it would have marked the distinct differences between each of the four. The smallest, a slightly chubby witch, plucked the ripe berries quickly and frequently stuck a finger or thumb in her mouth as she accidentally met a thorn in the thick bramble. Nearest to her was a young wizard, his short hair a rich brown; he ate more slowly, dividing his attention between berry seeking and the small witch beside him.

“Slow down, Liz – you won’t have any fingers left at the rate you’re going!”

A few yards away, another witch, this one with fiery red hair and a delicate build, was also breakfasting on the blackberries. This witch pulled her berries slowly from the bush, making a small mound of them in the palm of her hand before eating any. As she ate she seemed lost in thought, sometimes only holding a berry between her thumb and forefinger distractedly for a few moments before raising it to her mouth.

Beyond her stood the tallest of the group, a pale wizard who plucked each berry with a slow and easy grace, his taper fingers easily navigating through the thorny bushes. Of the four, he was the only one who seemed alert to his surroundings, his eyes frequently scanning the line of the trees for signs of movement. He also cast the occasional glance at the red-haired witch nearby, glances that she in her distracted state was oblivious to.

The first excitement of their kiss past, Ginny was left feeling confused and guilty. A whole troop of Death Eaters could have stormed up to her with Voldemort leading them, and Ginny probably wouldn’t have noticed.

Sweet Circe, what did I do? Well, I know what I did – I kissed Draco sodding Malfoy – but what the bloody hell was I thinking? I mean, it was Malfoy! Really, Ginny, remember him? Git who made life miserable for your brother and his friends – your friends – for years? And you cheated on Harry with him! Ginny accidentally crushed the berry she was holding, her fingers closing on it convulsively. Except it wasn’t cheating on Harry, a more rational part of her said. Harry broke up with you, remember?

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me! That doesn’t mean I don’t love him! And how badly he’d be hurt if he found out I snogged Malfoy! Ginny felt her chest constricting and forced herself to take a deep breath. Be rational, Ginny. It was just one kiss. It won’t happen again. But it hadn’t been just one kiss, and Ginny knew it. It had been the most amazing kiss she’d ever had. Draco’s lips had met hers, and the whole world swirled away – he was everything. Ginny hadn’t been able to think, she could only feel – the softness of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the heat of his palms against her cheeks, the fabric of his robes brushing against the skin of her neck – it awakened an ache inside of her she’d never felt before. No one had ever kissed her like that – not Michael Corner, not Dean Thomas, not even Harry. But Harry’s kisses are good – warm and sweet and safe. The kind of kiss that makes you want to smile from ear to ear like a loony. Draco’s kiss on the other hand – she didn’t know how it made her feel – whether she wanted to smile afterwards, or slap him, or pull him to her and make him do it again and again and again.

It’s some weird physical attraction, that’s what it is. Some animal urge is all. And really, that’s not so big a deal. Lots of people are attracted to one another – it’s natural. And as long as it’s just a physical thing, it doesn’t really matter, does it? My heart belongs to Harry, after all, and nothing could change that.

Ginny suddenly thought of the conversation she’d had with Hermione following her Draco daydream. Hermione had asked, “Didn’t it reveal your deep, subconscious longings?” But of course she was wrong, wasn’t she? I mean, this is all just coincidence. I never thought of Draco like that before that weird daydream – not even subconsciously. At least she didn’t think so.

Ginny stole a glance at him. He plucked berries methodically, a neutral expression on his face, but she had the feeling he knew she was looking at him. She wondered how he managed it, how he could look so calm, like nothing ever affected him. Even when he’d kissed her, his face hadn’t revealed any excitement, any emotion. Well, perhaps surprise, she thought. But there had been something there when he first found me – he had seemed so angry. But what’s angry? That doesn’t mean anything. It certainly doesn’t mean he cares about you. This – thing – between you, it’s just physical for him, too.

Ginny sighed, wondering why she even cared how Draco felt about her. And thinking about him only left her feeling more confused than ever.

“We should move on,” he said, his silky voice sliding across her thoughts like a stick trailing through water, sending ripples to the far corners of her mind. She shuddered involuntarily before looking up at him.

“You’re right,” she replied.

-----

The four made their way back into the woods and continued traveling westward, the sun climbing into the sky behind them. Draco set a fast pace, and no one spoke much as they struggled to keep up with him. Ginny felt an awkwardness growing between her and Draco – only a few hours ago they had kissed, had shared something so intimate – and now she was having trouble even meeting his eyes. He hadn’t made any move to renew their contact – wasn’t speaking to her really, not any more than he did to Lizzie or Kevin – and Ginny got the sense that he was waiting for her, waiting to see how she’d react to him given the time to think things over. She realized that she didn’t know him, not really, at all. And that she wanted to.

“Draco . . .” she began hesitantly, quickening her pace to catch up to him. He slowed down slightly and glanced at her. Ginny didn’t know how to begin. She wanted to ask him why he had kissed her, why he had suddenly found her attractive enough to do something that went totally against his character, against all that he believed in. But she didn’t know how to even begin when he was looking at her so intently, his expression unreadable.

“What was it like for you, growing up?” she asked instead, feeling completely foolish for it. He raised an eyebrow, apparently not expecting the question. Then he shrugged carelessly.

“Summers in France, winters in Switzerland – no different than any childhood, I suppose.”

Ginny stifled a laugh. No different than any childhood, indeed, she thought, trying to picture the Weasley clan sunning themselves on the French Riviera. “That’s not what I meant. I mean – what was it like, you know, with your parents?”

It was Draco’s turn to laugh a short, mirthless bark. “You mean, with two beings of pure evil? You want to know if we made blood sacrifices before every meal?” He sighed and ran a hand through his white-blonde hair. “No, I’m sorry to shatter your fantasy, but my parents were fairly normal. My father was away a lot, business trips, dealings with the Ministry, that kind of thing, and my mother spent most of her time organizing parties, showing the world what it means to be a Malfoy. I was taught to do the same – to have a proper sense of pride. I might not agree with the extremes my father has gone to, not anymore, but he’s right to be proud. The pureblood families are simply better than everyone else, and the Malfoys are the best of the best.” Ginny rolled her eyes, but Draco ignored her.

“My father was never exactly a warm man,” he continued. “But I always thought that deep down, he loved me. That he was proud of me. He never said so, of course – he never praised me, not once – it was always ‘You could have done better, a real Malfoy would have done better,’ but I thought that was just to spur me on, make me stronger. It wasn’t until he offered to kill me – his own son – that I realized he never cared about me, I was always just another piece of property to him. My mother, though – I know she loves me.”

Ginny, thinking of the coldness and selfishness etched into every line of Narcissa Malfoy’s face, snorted in disbelief.

“What? Don’t you think anyone could love me? Is that so impossible?” Draco demanded. Ginny was surprised by his sudden anger.

“No, Draco, I’m sorry – I wasn’t thinking that. It’s just, your mother has always seemed so . . .”

“My mother is a weak woman, foolish – I know that,” he interrupted. “But . . .” his voice trailed off.

“I’m sure she loves you – you’re right,” Ginny said quickly. He glanced at her and then looked away.

“I used to have nightmares,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed forward, not meeting her gaze. “Every night, when I was young. They were about my father, but I always said I couldn’t remember what I had dreamt. It was always the same dream though. I was in the library, at home, but everything was cold and dark. My mother was beside me, and Father, he was always standing by the fireplace, except there was no fire in it. Mother would tell me to go to him, that it was proper that I go to him and hug him. And I was always scared to, in the dream, but I didn’t know why. And I’d go to him, and hug him, and he’d start to hug back, like everything was fine, but then he’d be squeezing too tight, squeezing so hard it hurt and I couldn’t breathe, and I knew that he was trying to kill me. And he’d be laughing and my mother would be standing next to him and she’d be laughing, too. That’s when I would wake up. I’d wake up screaming, and the house elves always heard me and told my parents. Mother would come, then. She used to sit by my bed, and she’d stroke my forehead and make me imagine someplace nice until I fell asleep again. That’s how I know she loves me.”

Ginny was silent.

“What was the nice place you imagined?” she asked finally.

Draco shook his head and laughed softly. “I imagined deer,” he said. “I imagined I was looking at a field full of deer. I don’t know why – I guess it seemed peaceful to me.” He shook his head again.

“My mum used to do the same for me, when I had bad dreams,” Ginny said. “I used to have this one about being chased by a dragon. It was horrible. But Mum would sit there, and I’d just know that everything was okay, that I was safe with her.”

“A scary dragon, huh?” Draco laughed, but he looked at her with an almost grateful expression on his face.

“It was scary!” Ginny replied, and she laughed too, glad that the mood between them had lightened, that the tension was lifted. They continued on without speaking, but now the silence between them seemed almost companionable.

-----

The heat of the summer sun slowly filtered through the trees, and when the four travelers came across an inviting stream, they decided to rest for a while. Kevin, half joking and half serious, waded into the water and tried to catch a sunfish.

“We could cook it and eat it!” he said.

“No, no fires,” Draco said. “The smoke might be spotted.” Ginny sighed. A bit of fish had sounded nice.

“I’m so hungry,” Lizzie said, voicing Ginny’s feelings exactly.

“We’ve got these,” Draco replied, spreading open the robe he’d been carrying and revealing that he’d had the forethought to bring some of the blackberries with them. There wasn’t much there – enough for each of them to eat a handful – but, Ginny thought, it was better than starving.

“You know,” she said as she finished the meager lunch, “I used to love blackberries. I’m not sure I’ll ever eat them again though after this is all over.”

“My mum makes great blackberry pie,” Lizzie said. “I’d still eat that.”

The four of them reclined wearily in the shade of the trees along the stream’s bank. They weren’t tired enough to sleep, but they were too tired to continue walking.

“Hey Kevin, I thought of a story while we were walking. Do you want to hear it?” Lizzie asked.

“Lizzie’s going to be a writer some day,” Kevin said by way of explanation to Ginny and Draco. “She’s always coming up with neat stories.” Lizzie blushed at her brother’s compliment.

“That’s great, Lizzie,” smiled Ginny.

“I don’t know that they’re any good, but Kev is always nice enough to listen,” Lizzie replied.

“I think I need to soak my feet,” Ginny said, “I don’t think they’ve ever been so sore.” She stood up and made her way to the stream bank. “I can still hear you from here, though Lizzie, if you want to tell your story.” Pulling off her shoes and socks, and rolling up her jeans, she dipped her feet in the cool water. Lizzie’s voice trailed over from behind her.

“. . . upon a time, there was a beautiful witch, who was also a princess . . .”

Ginny leaned back on her elbows and was surprised when Draco sat down beside her, quickly removing his footwear and placing his feet in the stream, too. They sat side by side, shoulders almost touching, neither speaking.

“. . . and the hex was a terrible one, and her parents cried and cried . . .”

“Why did you kiss me?” Ginny asked abruptly in a low voice. She didn’t look at Draco, and when he didn’t respond right away, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her.

“I don’t know,” he replied finally. “Why did you kiss back?”

“I don’t know.” Both were silent again.

“. . . and the hex finally took effect, and everyone had to leave the castle, and the poor princess witch was all alone . . .”

“I thought you had a girlfriend – aren’t you with Pugsy Parkinson?” Ginny saw a smile flit across Draco’s face.

“Pansy and I aren’t dating – not in the sense you mean,” he replied.

“Then what is it? You’re always together. She looks at you like she’s starving and you’re her favorite dessert.” Draco laughed out loud this time.

“It’s a matter of convenience – for me at any rate. Our parents expect us to be together. Even before we started Hogwarts, we were always thrown together. Every dinner party, every gala event – our mothers would force us together and coo over us. I suppose I was expected to marry her one day, and I know she would have been pleased to be the next Mrs. Malfoy – but I’ve never had feelings for her. She’s not supposed to have feelings for me, either. It’s a business arrangement.” He shrugged. “One benefit of my – failure – is that she wouldn’t come near me now with a ten foot pole.”

“. . . and the brave wizard prince felt drawn to the abandoned castle, and even though he knew that others had tried and perished before, he had to go on . . .”

“And what about you,” he continued, a note of hesitation in his voice. “Aren’t you dating anyone?”

Ginny sighed. “I was,” she said. “Harry and I broke up though. He was worried I might get hurt in the war because of him.”

“How very . . . noble of him,” Draco said with a faint sneer, and they both dropped back into silence.

“. . . but he didn’t see the dragon’s talons in time, and he was clawed down his chest . . .”

Draco abruptly turned to her. “I kissed you because when I thought I was going to die in that dungeon I opened my eyes and saw you, and you looked warm, like the fireplace in my bedroom or a sunset. I kissed you because when you look at me, it’s like you’re really looking at me, not at my money or my name. I kissed you because you’re nice to me, and you make me actually want to be nice to you. I kissed you because you’re beautiful. I kissed you –” He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Ginny leaned in suddenly and kissed him.

“. . .enough, and the hex was lifted, and she knelt by him and her tears fell on him . . .”

Draco’s arms snaked around her, pulling her against him so that he could kiss her more deeply.

“. . . and it turned out that he was NOT DEAD, because she had healed him with the magic of her tears . . .”

Ginny ran her fingers through his hair, over his cheeks, tasting the sweetness of him in her mouth, feeling his heat through her clothes.

“. . . knew that it was his love that had saved her from the hex, and hers that had saved him from the dragon’s wound . . .”

They pulled apart, his arms still around her waist, hers pressed against his chest where she could feel the rapid beat of his heart. Their eyes were locked together, and Ginny knew that whatever this was, between them, he felt it too, and she didn’t want to fight it, didn’t know if she could fight it.

“. . . family could return, and they were married and lived happily ever after, the end.”

Ginny broke away from Draco’s embrace and looked back at Lizzie and Kevin.

“That was great,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She scrambled to her feet and returned to where the Pullmans were sitting, Draco following behind her.

“That was a nice story, Lizzie,” he said quietly. Lizzie turned a deep red at the unexpected compliment.

“Thank you,” she said. “It needs work, I think. All that love stuff seems too cheesy . . .”

-----

Over the next two days, the four of them fell into an easy pattern of long intervals of walking followed by short rests, regardless of whether it was day or night. Nuts and berries were not hard to find in the fertile summer season, and this far south the forest was thickly crossed with streams and rivulets running toward the ocean and providing ample drinking water. Draco, Ginny and Kevin alternated guard duties.

Draco and Ginny fell into an easy pattern as well, and if either of them had grown up in a Muggle household, they might have seen the similarities between their journey and the countless Disney movies where a talking dog and cat must put aside their differences to find their way back home. Ginny grew used to Draco – his brooding silences, his sarcastic remarks, his sometimes barely repressed impatience with all of them – because underneath all of that, she was learning about a different Draco entirely, one that was thoughtful, and felt deeply, and seemed to see right into the center of her. She grew used to his touch as well – not used to it in a way that took away the punch she felt every time he kissed her, the sudden painful flutter in her chest, but used to it in a way that meant she could feel the absence of him when he wasn’t near her. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they would keep their relationship a secret from Lizzie and Kevin, and for that Ginny was grateful. She told herself that she didn’t want the Pullmans to feel awkward, but deep down, she didn’t want her family to find out, or Harry. None of them would ever be able to understand.

And so, when Lizzie and Kevin were asleep, Draco would hold her in his arms, and sometimes they would kiss until Ginny could barely breathe for wanting more of him, and sometimes they would simply whisper to each other about nothing, about everything. Ginny found that she liked talking to Draco as much as she liked kissing him.

On the afternoon of the third day, or perhaps the fourth – Ginny had lost track – the woods ended abruptly and they were standing at the side of a road. In the distance was a town, nestled in a little valley between rolling downs. Ginny took in the road, took in the town, and suddenly jumped in the air.

“Oh! Oh!” she cried, almost flapping her arms at her companions. “We’re saved! This is it!”

“What are you on about, woman?” Draco drawled, eyeing her like she’d just sprouted a second head.

“It’s a road!” Ginny said, not even caring that she sounded crazy. “It’s a road, and all we have to do is wait right here, and the Knight Bus will come for us – transportation for the stranded witch or wizard!”

Draco’s face maintained its skeptical expression, but behind him, both Kevin and Lizzie began making excited noises.

“She’s right!” and “I’ve heard of the Knight Bus!” exclaimed Lizzie and Kevin simultaneously.

“I don’t like it,” Draco said.

“What?” Ginny grinned playfully. “Public transportation too low class for you?”

Draco’s expression remained serious.

“I don’t like us being out in the open like this.”

“It shouldn’t take long – flash the wand and we just wait here for a few minutes and it should show up – that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“We can try it, but all of you, stay alert.” Draco pulled out Wormtail’s wand and waved it at the road. Then they waited. At first the four of them remained standing, nervous excitement keeping them silent and breathless. After fifteen minutes had passed, Kevin sat down, and then Lizzie, while Ginny remained upright, her eyes glued to the road. Draco continued warily monitoring their surroundings.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and Kevin and Lizzie began to exchange downcast looks.

“I don’t think it’s coming, Gin,” Draco said quietly. Ginny didn’t reply. She refused to believe that the Knight Bus wouldn’t come for them. It had seemed like everything was about to be alright again – no more weary trekking through endless woods, no more sleeping on the ground, no more trying to survive on what they could scavenge. For a short time, she had seen the end to all of this – could almost feel her mother’s embrace when she arrived at the Burrow. Tears sprung into her eyes and she met Draco’s sympathetic gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We need to keep moving.” As she nodded silently, feeling the hard lump in her throat, her attention was suddenly arrested by the sound of an approaching vehicle. Cresting the hill and kicking up an amazing dust cloud was a very old, red Ford pickup truck. It screeched to a halt right in front of them.

All four of them stood speechlessly staring at the truck as a grizzled old man wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a beanie, and a pair of extremely large sunglasses leaned out his window. Lifting the sunglasses off of his nose to reveal rather twinkly eyes, he spoke. There was something about him that was friendly and strangely familiar, Ginny thought.

“You kids need a ride?” The four of them looked at each other in mute amazement at being so addressed by a Muggle. Ginny was the first to speak.

“Yes . . . yes, we do need a ride. May we . . . drive with you in your automobile?” she felt a bit smug at being able to converse so fluently using the Muggle terms her father taught her. The other three just looked at her.

The Muggle laughed. “Well, where you headed?”

“Er . . . to Ottery St. Catchpole,” Ginny replied, naming the Muggle village closest to the Burrow.

“How about that!” the Muggle replied. “Headed in the same direction myself! You kids are more than welcome to come along. I can take one of you in the front, the rest can ride with Lou.” He indicated the bed of the pickup truck where, nestled in a pile of straw, a large white goat was eyeing them. “Louisa-love, you don’t mind a little company, do you?” he asked the goat, which gave no indication one way or another as to its preferences.

“Oh, wonderful!” Ginny replied. Draco caught her arm.

“Ginny,” he said under his breath, “do you really think that’s a good idea?” Ginny gave him a pleading look and he sighed.

“I’ll ride in front, sir,” he said to the Muggle and gave Ginny a look that said “I’ll hex him to oblivion if he tries anything – you keep safe in the back.” Ginny almost laughed at his tense caution. It was just a Muggle, after all, and a very old one at that.

“Good, then,” said the Muggle. “Glad to have you all on board. Name’s Abe – this here is Louisa.”

“It’s a pleasure, I’m sure,” Draco replied as he climbed into the front seat, the disdain in his voice making Ginny wince.

He’d better behave himself.

Lizzie, Kevin and Ginny climbed into the back with Louisa, who eyed them all steadily before returning to the bit of grass she was chewing. Lizzie smiled widely.

“I’ve never ridden in a Muggle car,” she said excitedly. Ginny smiled back.

“Hold on!” shouted Abe from the cabin, as he tore off down the road, kicking up a cloud of dust behind.

Ginny leaned back in the straw and allowed herself to relax as she felt the sun on her cheeks and the wind rushing through her hair. At this rate, they’d reach the Burrow in no time. She closed her eyes and listened to the snatches of conversation coming from the cabin of the truck. It sounded like Abe was talking Draco’s ear off, and Ginny almost felt pity for him, knowing his feelings for Muggles in general.

Maybe it will be good for him. How can you hate something you know nothing about anyway?

Ginny opened her eyes and was startled to find Louisa staring directly at her. She could have sworn the goat winked at her.

Impossible, she thought, shaking her head and closing her eyes again. The truck rattled its way down the road, and Ginny dreamed of home.

-----
A/N: Thank you to every one who's been reading along so far. An especially big thank you to those of you who've reviewed -- all your comments mean a lot to me!

Chapter 6 - Things More Unlikely

The sun was set and the air had grown cooler with an approaching storm when the old, red pickup truck finally came within sight of the lights of Ottery St. Catchpole. Ginny had dozed through the afternoon, but was awake now, feeling chilled through her limbs. Kevin and Lizzie both slept still, nestled down together in the bed of the truck, and the strange goat, Louisa, appeared to be napping as well. A couple kilometers from the village, the truck rattled to a stop.

"This is as close to ol' Ottery as I can take you," Abe called out from the cab. "I turn here to head on to Plymouth." Draco exited the cab and the other three climbed down out of the bed.

"Thank you, sir," said Ginny. "We will never, never forget your kindness. I wish there was something we could do to repay you." Abe waved his hand at her dismissively and smiled.

"Not at all, not at all," he replied. The four began to walk away.

"Oy, Red-head," Abe called in a soft, kind voice. Ginny turned back and approached the truck.

"I thought of something." There was a twinkle in Abe's eye. "That's your fellow, right?" he asked in a low tone, nodding his head toward Draco who was waiting with the Pullmans on the other side of the road.

"Er . . . well, he's not my . . ." Ginny abruptly clamped her mouth shut, frustrated at not being able to satisfactorily answer that question, even to herself. Abe laughed.

"Oh, young one, I've been there before. Denial never helps, no it does not. No, when you're in love, the only thing you can do is sing it out! Consequences be damned!"

"Um . . . did you say there was something I could do for you?" Ginny wanted the subject changed, and fast.

"Yes, yes," Abe replied, still smiling reminiscently. "Ah, right. I'd like you to do something for . . . Drake, was it? Or was it Dorko? Dooku? No, that can't be right . . ."

"Draco."

"Right, Draco. Just on the tip of my tongue it was. We had a nice talk up here. I got to know him a bit." Abe lowered his voice to a whisper. "Thing is, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, young Draco I noticed . . . he's a bit of a . . . well, he's a bit stuffy."

"Stuffy?"

Abe seemed reluctant to continue. "How to put this? He seems a bit . . . priggish. Hoity-toity. Fancies himself. Conceited. Arrogant. Bit of an ass-"

"You noticed?" Ginny interrupted with a grin.

"But the thing is, I think he's a right chap underneath. I wanted to tell you that. And I want you to take good care of the lad." Abe's lighthearted tone suddenly changed, becoming steely and serious. "He'll need you - it is crucial that you are there for him. It could mean everything."

Ginny was caught off-guard. "I'm sorry?" she asked. But the twinkle had come back into Abe's eye, and he only laughed.

"Ah, love," he said. "Wonderful, wonderful thing. Do you have a brother?"

"Er . . ." Ginny was again surprised by his sudden change of direction. "I have a few."

"I had a brother - best man I ever knew. I got in a spot of trouble once - wild days of my youth and all - but my brother stood by me the whole way. He may not have always approved of my . . . choices, but he always wanted me to be happy. That's the good of family, Red. Keep it in mind." And with a wink, Abe drove off, honking the horn once as he disappeared over a hill. Ginny shook her head, bewildered by the strange, strange Muggle.

"What was that about?" Draco asked as she approached her companions.

"Oh, he just wanted to wish us luck," Ginny said evasively. "Anyway, how was your ride? It looked like the two of you were getting awfully chummy up there."

Draco grunted.

"Are all Muggles that cracked?"

"Why? What did he say?"

"Daft old thing just rattled away the whole time. Talking about some woman nonstop. Their vacations, their spats, her favorite food - raw carrots, apparently - how they can't have children - I wanted to hex my own ears off at that point - just on and on and on with it. And get this - he named that goat after his woman." Draco laughed. "Imagine how honored his lady Louisa must feel to have a goat named after her - some romantic gesture."

Ginny, recalling the strangely intelligent look in the goat's eyes, wondered.

"The funniest part was that he tried to give me love advice! As if I needed help from a dried up old Muggle." Ginny couldn't think of a time when she'd seen Draco laugh harder.

"Well, he was awfully nice to give us a ride practically all the way back," she said.

"I suppose he was a decent sort - for a Muggle."

Ginny raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't comment.

"Well, the good news is that we are closer to the Burrow here than if we'd been driven all the way into Ottery St. Catchpole," Ginny said, addressing all three companions. "It's actually just over that hill."

Lizzie gave a little hop and clapped her hands. "We're going home! We're going home!" she squeaked. As they began walking in the direction of the Burrow, the Pullmans were full of animated chatter about flooing home and how glad their parents would be, and all the food they would eat. Ginny smiled at their excitement, feeling her own fluttering in her stomach. She glanced at Draco, who was walking slightly in front of her, his expression blank.

"You okay?" she asked, grazing his shoulder with her fingers.

"Fine," he said, smiling ruefully at her. "Just thinking about how comfortable my bed in Azkaban will be."

"That's not going to happen. It's just not!" Ginny suddenly felt angry - whether at him, or at the situation, or . . . she didn't know.

Wordlessly, Draco lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against her knuckles, his gray eyes locked intently on hers. Then he turned away and continued walking. Ginny silently cursed anyone who would dare put him in Azkaban, and then cursed Draco for being himself, and ended with cursing herself for caring so much. A far away rumble of thunder greeted them as they crested the hill. All was darkness below.

Ginny could make out the silhouette of the broomshed as they passed it, and then the larger shape of the Burrow itself, shrouded in black.

Early for everyone to be in bed, she thought.

"Should we knock?" asked Kevin as they reached the door.

"No, key's here," Ginny replied, reaching under the mat.

"Original hiding place," Draco remarked.

"Stuff it."

Ginny unlocked the back door and the four of them slipped into the kitchen. The stillness of the house was absolute, and Ginny felt a wave of fear wash over her. Where was her family? Without waiting for the others, she rushed from room to room, panic spreading through her entire body as each continued empty. She ran up the stairs, and found that the bedrooms, too, were unoccupied.

"No one's here!" she exclaimed, returning to the kitchen, surprised at the shrillness in her voice. "Where are they?"

"Calm down, Ginny," Draco soothed. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. Where the hell is my family?"

"Maybe they went for a visit somewhere?" Kevin suggested.

"There's no sign of a struggle, Gin. They left on their own. Now where would they have gone?"

Ginny took a deep breath as Draco's words sunk in. No, there was no sign of a struggle. None of the telltale signs of a Death Eater attack. And there was no way her family would have gone down without one hell of a fight. There was only one place she could think of that her entire family would have gone to. A place that was in the complete opposite direction than they'd been traveling for so many days.

"I think I know where they'd be," she murmured. "We could floo there." The other three nodded their agreement. Ginny disappeared into the living room, only to return cursing like a sailor.

"Effing Circe and her whole effing barnyard! We . . . we're out of floo powder," Ginny held up the empty jar. She suddenly felt horribly ashamed of her family's poverty. Draco's family probably had large vats of floo powder stashed away at Malfoy Manor, she thought bitterly.

"What about brooms?" Draco asked, his voice calm.

"There are a bunch of old ones in the shed."

"Good. We can take them tomorrow. First thing."

"Why don't we just fly tonight?" asked Lizzie, her voice full of disappointment.

"It's not as safe. Dementors are far more active at night, and harder to spot. Plus, it's going to rain, and I'm not keen on traveling any distance in a thunderstorm."

Reluctantly, the other three had to agree with him.

"On the bright side, we get to sleep in real beds tonight, and I'll bet there's lots of good stuff to eat, right?" Kevin asked, trying to sound cheerful.

Ginny realized there was nothing to gain by worrying and forced herself to smile.

"Yes, let's find some food. I'm starving!"

Lighting a few of the candles in the kitchen so that they could see, the group of weary travelers rummaged through the cupboards and the icebox, pulling out all sorts of goodies. They made a pile in the middle of the table of breads, meats and cheeses and sat down to gorge themselves without bothering to take out plates or utensils. It was by far the best meal Ginny had ever had.

Finally, after the pile on the table had been significantly diminished, and Ginny had a powerful urge to unbutton her jeans in order to give her very full belly some breathing room, the four leaned back in their chairs, satisfied expressions all around.

"I love food," said Kevin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "All I need now is a hot bath and a soft bed."

"Oooh, a bath - youngest first!" said Lizzie. "Ginny, where's the bathroom?"

Ginny smiled lazily. "Upstairs, third door on the right." Lizzie raced up the stairs before Kevin had a chance to protest.

"Cheeky monster!" he called after her retreating form.

-----

Ginny was the last to shower and she stood under the hot water for a long time, feeling the dirt and grime and bone-deep weariness washing away down the drain. It was oddly anti-climactic, being once again surrounded by the familiarity of her home after all the horror and struggle she had endured. She was disappointed; the thought of seeing her family again had filled her waking dreams during the ride in the Muggle car, and when she had drifted into sleep in that comfortable straw-filled truck bed, it had been to dream of Harry.

But another part of her felt like she had been granted a reprieve, like she had one more second to gulp down air before she was plunged into too-deep water. It was a last night, for her, a last night before everything would change. Because once she was back in the folds of her family, there was no way things could continue as they had been. Whatever strange twist of fate that had brought together Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy, this night it must be spent or it never would be.

She found him sitting at the kitchen table staring distractedly into the guttering fire, wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants of Ron's with a graceful ease that lent elegance to the clothes Ron would never have been able to achieve. The candles had gone out, and the room was full of flickering shadows cast by the fire's ruddy glow. Draco was absently tapping a thumb on the table's surface, and didn't look up as she entered the room.

"I'm going to make tea. Do you want some?" Ginny asked, moving toward the stove in her cotton bathrobe, her damp hair tucked behind her ears.

Draco raised his eyes from the fire, and it looked like he had to exert effort to focus them on her. Finally he nodded his assent.

Ginny moved about the kitchen, silently preparing the tea. She told herself that she didn't want to disturb Kevin or Lizzie, already settled down to sleep in the twin's bedroom (with warnings not to fiddle with anything, and especially not to eat anything they found there). More than that, though, she didn't want to disturb the hushed calm of the room, to violate the strange feeling of imminence that hung in the air, as if something delicate would shatter to pieces if she set the tea kettle down on the stove too loudly. Outside, the thunder growled more ominously. The storm was fast approaching.

Ginny couldn't tell if Draco shared her feeling, or if he was just too wrapped up in his own thoughts - either way, he remained as silent as she. It wasn't until she glanced over at him that she realized he was watching her intently. She felt suddenly very naked beneath her thin robe, as if Draco could see right through it. Reddening, she turned back to the kettle, the sound of boiling water within it feeling at that moment like a perfect metaphor for how she herself felt under Draco's gaze.

"Almost ready," she murmured, wanting to break the spell of the silent intimacy that filled the room. Draco didn't reply, and Ginny found herself staring dumbly at her bare feet, feeling oddly nervous and awkward and afraid to meet his eyes. The kettle screaming on the stove behind her ("Ooh! Ooh! Hot, hot, hot - I'm ready!") made her jump skittishly. Trying to recover her equanimity, Ginny quickly removed the kettle from the flame, and went over to a cupboard to retrieve the teacups and saucers. On the lowest shelf were the teacups the family always used - pale cream crockery with a faded green leaf pattern. The set was much loved and much used, and the small chips and cracks in the cups were a testament to both facts. Ginny bit her lip as she thought of the boy sitting behind her in the kitchen he'd earlier referred to as "er . . . cozy" (and Ginny just knew he was probably biting back all sorts of nasty comments), and she stretched onto the tips of her toes, reaching past the everyday crockery in favor of the beautiful white bone china on the top shelf. She just brushed one of the elegant cups with her fingers, but couldn't quite get a handle on it.

"Need some help?" Draco asked over her shoulder. He had come up behind her as silently as a stalking cat, and Ginny froze. His body leaning lightly into her back, he reached past her and pulled down two teacups, setting them on the counter in front of her.

"Er . . . thanks," Ginny said, not turning around.

"My pleasure." Draco didn't move either, and Ginny, after exhaling deeply, relaxed into him. He brought his hands up to her shoulders, slowly caressing her upper arms. Ginny could feel his warm breath against her neck, and a shiver ran down her spine. One of his hands traveled up around her shoulder and tangled in her damp hair, fingertips trailing soothingly along her scalp.

"Mmm," Ginny sighed. Draco's body pressed against hers more firmly, and she could feel the taut muscles of his legs and chest through her thin robe.

"Gin," he whispered into her hair, a feathery touch from his lips against her earlobe. Slowly he turned her around and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. The intensity she saw there threatened to melt her away.

"Gin," he murmured, his voice as soft as his touch, "I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be with you, or if I'll be . . . . But I want tonight for us. I want to be with you tonight."

It took a moment for Ginny to process what he was saying, what he was asking, but when she did, her eyes widened in alarm.

"Draco - I . . ." she stammered, but then his mouth was on hers, tracing the contours of her lips with tiny kisses before pulling her bottom lip into his mouth and scraping it gently with his teeth. Ginny's eyes slid closed, and her mind went blank.

"Ohh," she exhaled. Her hands found their way into Draco's hair and she clutched at the flaxen locks, pulling him into a deeper kiss, not caring if she hurt him in her urgency. Draco responded in kind, and Ginny found herself pressed against the counter, locked in a passionate embrace. It wasn't until she felt him trying to undo the tie to her bathrobe, her only guard against complete nakedness, that her sense of panic returned.

"No, wait! Stop," she said, pulling away from him. "I can't do this." Merlin, don't I sound like a hopeless prude. It wasn't that Ginny had any hang-ups about sex before marriage, or of becoming "one of those scarlet women" as Ron would have put it, but she had long cherished the idea of losing her virginity to Harry - it had seemed inevitable when they started dating, and now that the war was on, Ginny imagined that the big event was just on hold for a while. Not that Harry had ever made any overtures in that direction, but then again, Ginny thought, he'd always had other things on his mind when they were together, weightier issues than the normal teenage boy faced.

"I'm rushing you," Draco said flatly, and Ginny was surprised that there was no impatience or anger in his voice.

"No, it's not that . . . it's just, tomorrow we're going back, and I just can't . . . be with you, like this, anymore. Nobody would understand, and I know that Harry and I broke up, but he still loves me, and I-" her voice quavered for a moment "-I still love him."

Draco stepped back from her, his expression impassive.

"Alright," he said finally, and turned to leave the room.

"Draco, I'm sorry," Ginny called out as he began mounting the stairs. He turned to her and shrugged.

"It's fine," he said. "I'm used to losing to Potter." And with that he disappeared up the stairs.

Ginny stood motionless, leaning back into the counter where Draco had left her. The dying fire cast the room into shadow. On the stove the tea kettle sat abandoned, its waters growing cool. The air of the room itself seemed cooler now that Draco was gone, and Ginny pulled her loosened bathrobe more tightly across her chest. She felt like she had done the right thing, but that didn't make it any easier to fight the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes.

Of course I couldn't have sex with Draco. I want to share that with Harry because we love each other. It's not like Draco has any feelings for me. It's just been some fun - how does he phrase it? "A matter of convenience," just like Pansy. He probably doesn't even know how to love . . . .

Ginny felt immediately guilty just for thinking that. She knew he loved his mother fiercely, and that he even loved his father, in a sick sort of twisted hate-him-at-the-same-time-but-can't-help-it way. And a thousand looks and gestures over the past few days belied her statement as well. Ginny recalled the nights when he'd stroke her hair until she fell asleep, and how ridiculously protective he was of her, and all the times he'd brushed against her even in front of the Pullmans, like he just couldn't keep from touching her, and the way he had of saying her name that made it sound like a sacred word, a god's name, and the way he looked at her, with a longing that didn't have anything to do with sex . . .

Circe, he loves me. However it had happened in the short span of time they'd really known each other, Draco Malfoy, Ginny knew with a sudden burst of clarity, had fallen in love with her. And the thought, which might once have horrified her or amused her, made her feel so stupidly happy she wanted to skip a lap around the kitchen table.

Oh sweet Neptune and his tuna fish parade! I love him, too. I love Draco Malfoy. The knowledge hit her like a bolt of lightning, sizzling through her entire body. Despite his flaws, which were many, Ginny had somehow fallen in love with him, too.

And I just sent him away after telling him I was in love with someone else. Brilliant, Miss Weasley - you'll be Head Girl before you know it at this rate.

She had ended things before really understanding what they were, and Draco, only upstairs, might as well have been a million kilometers away. Ginny knew suddenly how it felt to miss someone before they were even gone.

But it's not too late! her heart urged her. Go tell him how you feel, tell him you were wrong, tell him anything it takes to get him to touch you again, look at you again, whisper your name again . . . .

-----

He was at the window in Ron's room, watching the trees waving violently in the wind which whistled around the Burrow as lightning streaked across the sky. His whole body visibly stiffened when she entered, but he didn't turn around.

"Draco -"

"Go get some sleep, Ginny. We've got a long day tomorrow."

Ginny quickly crossed the space between them and grasped his hand, causing him to turn and face her.

"Draco, please. I'm sorry." She held his eyes and silently pleaded with him to understand what she was too afraid to say out loud. Ginny felt a wave of relief wash over her when his eyes softened and his body relaxed.

"Stay with me tonight," she whispered, feeling a blush spreading across her features. To hide it, she turned and began pulling him out of the room, heading for her own.

Draco allowed himself to be steered through the dark hallway and into her little bedroom. He paused to shut the door and then pulled Ginny into a deep kiss. Her hands found his face and Ginny kissed him like all the world depended on it, like there was no tomorrow and today was fading fast. Her heart thudded in her chest, partly in fear, partly in anticipation, and partly because she was in the arms of the man she loved - she loved! Ginny felt herself being lifted up, carried toward the bed. Draco almost threw her onto it, and the softness of her threadbare chenille coverlet brushed against her cheek. Draco climbed into the bed after her, his body pressing down upon hers, his hands roaming freely under her robe as he kissed his way down to her collarbone. Ginny tugged at his t-shirt, impatient to feel his bare skin, and Draco paused for a moment, allowing her to lift it off over his head. His pale skin glowed faintly in the dark room, and Ginny ran her fingers lightly down his chest, marveling at the softness of him. Draco's hands had found the tie to her bathrobe while she was distracted, and a surge of panic shot through her.

"Draco, I've never . . . ."

He eyed her intently for a moment.

"I'll be gentle."

Outside, the heavens finally broke open, spilling a torrent of rain onto the heated earth. The drops rattled against the windows of the Burrow so loudly that the thunder itself sounded muffled. The occupants of one of the bedrooms woke groggily at the noise and then rolled back into sleep. In another bedroom, the occupants were completely oblivious to the fury of the storm, their entire world contained within the space of the four corners of the bed, the feel of flesh against flesh. Lightning briefly illuminated the tangle of limbs, the swirl of milk and honey skin as Ginny lost her virginity to a Malfoy.

-----

Ginny woke later in the night, a thunderclap ringing in her ears. Is it still raining? she wondered sleepily, but became more alert at the sound of chirping crickets in the still night. The storm's over - what woke me up? Quickly she sat up, and saw that Draco was already out of bed and pulling on his sweatpants.

"Stay here," he whispered urgently, "and don't make a sound. I think someone's apparated downstairs." Quietly, he crept to the door and disappeared into the hallway. Ginny sat stunned for a moment, trying to process what he had said. Someone downstairs in the Burrow, and Draco going to face whoever it was all alone?

Not a chance, she thought as she scrambled from the bed and found her bathrobe. As noiselessly as Draco before her, she tiptoed out into the hall and made her way down the stairs. In the dark, she was surprised to run into Draco's still form. He put an arm out to steady her, but his eyes were locked intently on something below. Ginny craned her neck to see over his shoulder, and then understood why he was stopped.

There was a Death Eater in her kitchen.

-----
A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 7 – Family Reunions

There was a Death Eater in her kitchen, and Ginny stood horrified on the stairs. Draco was standing a step lower, and she gripped the arm he had used to steady her when she ran into him so tightly that she was sure he'd find the bruised impression of her fingers the next day.

If there was a next day.

If she was hurting him, Draco didn't indicate it as he stood so rigidly he didn't even seem to be breathing. Ginny realized that she had forgotten to breathe herself, and sucked in a great gulp of air, exhaling it as quietly as she could.

The Death Eater was pacing slowly along the side of the table, an inky silhouette in the moonlit kitchen. So far he, or she - Ginny couldn't tell - wasn't facing the stairs, but it was only a matter of the cloaked figure rounding the corner of the table before Ginny knew she and Draco would be spotted.

Ginny's first thought was that it wasn't fair, it was some sick joke of the gods to let her get all the way home before snapping back on the leash to let her know she wasn’t free after all.

Her second thought was that she would never go back to that dungeon; armed with her bare hands and all the fierceness and courage she had, she would fight. Because she would rather be dead than feel trapped like that again.

Draco apparently had no such melodramatic thoughts, for he had armed himself with Wormtail’s wand before exiting the bedroom, Ginny noticed with the faintest bit of hope. He was holding it at the ready with his free arm, the tightness of his grip the only thing that betrayed his nerves.

Tensely, the two watched as the Death Eater slowly rounded the table, one leather-gloved hand trailing fingers across its surface while the other hand carelessly waved a wand back and forth toward the floor. This was the moment Draco had been waiting for.

"Accio wand!" he said fiercely as the Death Eater's wand shot into his hand. He handed it off to Ginny as the Death Eater hissed in shock. Slowly, pointing his wand directly at the Death Eater's heart, Draco moved down the rest of the stairs into the kitchen, Ginny following closely behind. Now seeing who had attacked, the Death Eater began to laugh, a high-pitched, mad, cackling sound only slightly muffled by the white skull mask.

"Why it's my darling nephew!" the black-clad figure said, pulling off her mask and revealing the manic face of Bellatrix Lestrange. “How lovely to see you, Draco, even in such a hovel as this!"

"Aunt Bella," Draco said, his voice even.

"Why, nephew, I'd have thought you'd be happier to see me! What will your mother say when I tell her about this shocking lack of manners? Won't you even come give Auntie Bella a hug?"

"Not likely," Draco sneered.

"Ah, so sad!" Bellatrix said with mock concern in her voice. "But then again, you've always been such a disappointment to the family. Really, I'm ashamed there's any Black blood in you at all. It seems you've gone the way of Cousin Sirius and Cousin Regulus. And it looks like, once again, I have to take care of another family embarrassment. My curse, my destiny, it seems. But you know what they say - third time's the charm!"

"I might be more intimidated if you were actually armed, my dear Aunt. Even your wit is too dull to do any damage."

Bellatrix, rather than replying, began to giggle in a way that Ginny found very disconcerting.

"Incarcerous!" she cried, using Bellatrix's own wand against her. Thin cords snaked around Bellatrix's body, knocking her into a chair. She abruptly ceased laughing, and fixed Ginny with a furious stare.

"You’ll pay for that, blood traitor!" she spat venomously.

"I think not," Ginny replied boldly, stepping forward so that she was no longer shielded by Draco’s body. "I think you're the one who’s going to pay!"

Bellatrix snickered. "I think you're the one who's going to pay," she mimicked in a high-pitched little girl's voice. "Really, nephew, how do you stand to be in such insipid company?"

Ginny felt herself coloring. It hadn't been the best comeback, and she knew that if she had used it on any of her brothers, they would have laughed at her, too. Fred and George might have even threatened to disown her . . . .

Suddenly the back door flew open and everything was chaos. Ginny was hit with a disarming spell and landed with a thud on the floor, her head cracking sharply against the cabinet behind her. Wincing at the pain, she struggled to regain her feet, only to find herself being hauled up roughly by her hair. She cried out as a wand dug into her ribs.

Ginny's eyes had become accustomed to the moonlit kitchen and she saw that near the door, Draco was silently facing off with a third Death Eater. Both of them held their wands poised to strike, and though locks of his hair had fallen into his eyes, Draco made no move to push them away.

"Bellatrix, you fool!" spoke the cold, masculine voice of the Death Eater who held Ginny. "We told you to wait for us to finish checking the perimeter before going in. Look at you, captured by a couple of babies!"

"Mulciber, release me now! How dare you taunt me? The Dark Lord will hear of this!" Bellatrix shrieked.

Mulciber laughed maliciously. "That's right, Bellatrix. Go whine to the Dark Lord. I'm sure he'll be interested in how weak you are." Ginny felt the wand digging into her ribs let up as Mulciber undid the binding charm on Bellatrix, who stood up quickly and ran her hands down her robes, trying to regain her poise by smoothing out any wrinkles.

"You children are so predictable, you know," Bellatrix said. "We didn't even need to search for you - just as the Dark Lord told us would happen, you turned up here." She smiled. “Except there's no one here to help you, is there?"

Fear swept through Ginny. "Where's my family? What have you done with them?" she cried, trying to break away from Mulciber, who only yanked her hair harder.

"Why, we killed them of course! But not before a little torture. Ah, you should have heard your mother scream!" Bellatrix's smile had widened into a predatory grin, revealing sharp white teeth that glinted in the moonlight.

Mulciber laughed again. "And now it’s your turn," he said, emphasizing his words with another sharp jab of his wand into Ginny's ribs. Ginny felt herself go numb.

It can't be true. She's lying! She has to be lying!

"But we don't come bearing all bad news," Bellatrix continued. "My dear nephew, the Dark Lord has been gracious enough to offer you a second chance!" Draco, still concentrating all his attention on the Death Eater in front of him, didn't give any indication that he heard what was being said to him.

"Damn it, Rookwood! Lower your wand - I'm trying to have a conversation here!" Bellatrix exclaimed in exasperation. Reluctantly, the Death Eater facing off with Draco lowered his wand.

"Have him drop it and I'll be happy to listen to you, Aunt Bella," Draco said without shifting his position.

Both Bellatrix and Mulciber laughed. "Do as he says, Rookwood," commanded Mulciber. Mumbling something too low for Ginny to hear, Rookwood complied, dropping his wand to the floor by his feet.

"All right, Aunt. What is the Dark Lord's offer?" Draco asked.

Bellatrix smiled nastily. "Quite generous, really. You'll be welcome back into the fold if you'll perform a simple task to prove your loyalty."

Draco raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yes, that's right, Draco," said Mulciber, his voice suddenly silky and coaxing. "Simply kill this little blood traitor here," - he shook Ginny by the hair - "and you can once again stand with us."

Draco was silent a moment. "So all I have to do is kill the Weasley bint, and I may return to our Lord's side?" he finally asked.

Bellatrix smiled broadly. "That's right, Draco. Surely even you can manage to kill an unarmed girl."

Draco shrugged. "Stand back, Mulciber. You wouldn't want me to accidentally hit you, would you?"

Mulciber gave a low chuckle and took a step away from Ginny.

"Well, Weasley, it's been fun," Draco said, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since the Death Eaters entered the kitchen. Ginny felt frozen, paralyzed with shock. Would he really kill her?

Of course he would - he’s a Malfoy! Anything to save his own skin, thought a part of her. Ginny swallowed hard. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear, of seeing the heart-rending hurt she felt at his betrayal, she decided, squaring her shoulders and holding his gaze. If he wanted to kill her, he'd have to do it while looking her right in the eye.

"What are you waiting for, Malfoy?" she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice even.

Draco only sneered at her. Then with a dramatic swish of his wand, he let off a spell - only he aimed wide of Ginny and sent Mulciber crashing to the floor unconscious.

"Run, Ginny!" Draco shouted as both Bellatrix, swearing like a sailor, and Rookwood scrambled for their wands. Ginny didn't need to be told twice, but just as she was headed for the door, chaos erupted in the kitchen for the second time. The doorway was suddenly filled with people as a series of spells crackled through the kitchen. After a few minutes of shouting and struggling, the kitchen fell into silence and the smoke began to clear. Ginny found herself in her father's arms, being squeezed almost painfully as he said her name over and over again.

"Dad!" she cried. "They said you were dead!" Ginny began to cry, the relief of once again seeing her father overwhelming her.

"Thank Merlin you're all right, Ginny! Thank Merlin we got to you in time!" exclaimed Arthur Weasley, stroking his daughter's hair reassuringly. Ginny gave him a tearful smile and glanced around her. The kitchen was filled with members of the Order of the Phoenix: Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were all smiling at the emotional reunion of father and daughter.

"Wotcher, Ginny!" said Tonks brightly. "Good to see you again!"

"Well, Arthur, it looks like two of them got away – true to form they ran like cowards. But this one seems to have been disabled before we even got here," said Lupin, indicating Mulciber's still form on the floor.

"Draco hit him with a stunning spell," Ginny said appreciatively, glancing at Draco, who stood tensely in the corner of the room. Her words brought everyone's focus to him, and he drew himself up haughtily, as if expecting a nasty comment.

"Well done, Malfoy," said Lupin quietly. Mad-Eye grunted in agreement. Draco looked surprised, and was speechless.

"I'll take this one back to the Ministry with me for processing before the trip to Azkaban," said Shacklebolt. "I must say, Arthur, it's a very good thing those harmful intent wards around the house worked. This might have turned out very badly otherwise."

Mr. Weasley shuddered, the thought too terrifying to contemplate. Shacklebolt, with Mulciber in tow, disapparated.

"Tonks," said Mr. Weasley, turning to the green-haired witch, "will you escort Ginny back to headquarters? We'll be following shortly."

"Wait," Ginny said, "what about Draco and Kevin and Lizzie? Aren't we all going together?"

"Kevin and Lizzie?" asked Lupin.

"They're upstairs sleeping. They were with us. We all escaped together."

"Uh, actually, we're awake now," Kevin said, coming down the stairs and into view, Lizzie right behind him. "We weren't sure if it was safe," he said a bit sheepishly.

"It's safe," Ginny said, smiling broadly. "This is my dad, and this is Professor Lupin, and Tonks, and Mad-Eye."

"Nice to meet you all," said Lizzie shyly.

"We had no idea four of you escaped," said Tonks, a note of wonder in her voice. "When the wards went off, we assumed it was just Ginny being attacked. We didn't even know she was alive until then. This is really amazing! What an adventure you must have all had!"

"Amazing indeed," said Lupin more quietly. "Then, Tonks, take Ginny with these two" - pointing to Kevin and Lizzie - "and we'll follow soon."

"Why not Draco as well?" exclaimed Ginny. "He's on our side now. What happened to Dumbledore isn't his fault - they were going to kill him and his family! He's saved all of our lives - we never would have made it here without him! You can't send him to Azkaban, you can't!" Ginny moved away from her father to stand protectively in front of Draco. Kevin and Lizzie joined her.

"It's true, sirs. We never could have done it without Malfoy," said Kevin. Lizzie began to cry.

"Please don't send him away," she said, "he's nice when you get to know him. I like him, even though I didn't at first."

Lupin and Arthur exchanged a smile.

"Well, Malfoy, it looks like we owe you much already," said Mr. Weasley.

"Don't worry, Ginny," Lupin said. "We're not sending Malfoy anywhere. We just need to talk to him privately. And we need to let you and Tonks prepare for his reception at headquarters. There are some there who will be less than enthusiastic about his arrival."

Ginny sighed with relief and silently agreed with Lupin. She didn't even want to imagine how Ron and Harry were going to take it, considering their hatred for Draco. This is not going to be pretty, she thought.

Turning to Draco, she gave him a reassuring smile. "Will you be okay?" she asked.

"Of course," he said dryly.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For not killing me, I mean. For giving up your chance to go back."

"Did you really think I would?" he asked. "Ginny, I -"

"Ready there, Ginny?" Tonks interrupted. Draco held Ginny's eyes as she replied affirmatively.

"Right then," said Tonks, grasping Ginny's shoulder with one hand while her other arm hooked around Kevin and Lizzie. Without another word, she disapparated, taking her three charges with her.

-----

Ginny wasn't sure which was more painful, side-along apparition or the look in Draco's eyes as she disappeared. She, Tonks, and the Pullmans were standing on the pavement in front of Grimmauld Place.

"Here, kids, look at this," Tonks said, showing Lizzie and Kevin a slip of parchment containing the address of the Order of the Phoenix.

Right, because they've never been here before. They can't see it, thought Ginny, remembering last summer, when she had to be shown the address herself.

"Whoa," said Kevin, his eyes widening as he looked at space between numbers eleven and thirteen.

"Great!" smiled Tonks. "Let's get inside. I'm sleepy!"

There was no way sleep was possible inside the Black residence, however. The entrance hall was awash with light and crowded with people. Ginny didn't even have a chance to admire the drastic improvements to the once decrepit mansion before she was assaulted by what seemed to be a band of red-haired savages. She felt herself being crushed under multiple bear hugs and tugged back and forth into her family members' arms as her mother, the twins, Ron, and Bill all welcomed her home. Everyone was crying and shouting at once. Even the Pullmans found themselves being passed around and hugged joyously.

It took nearly an hour for the three to recount their adventure and calm the near hysterical Molly Weasley, who insisted that Ginny sit on her lap and refused to release her firm grip on her.

Ron, with Hermione by his side, reacted predictably to the news that Draco Malfoy would be shortly joining them.

"Bloody hell! He’s an evil wanker!" he exclaimed.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! I will not have that language used in this house! Shame on you, in front of children no less," Mrs. Weasley admonished.

"I don't know, Ron," said Hermione thoughtfully. "It does sound like he's made a bit of a turn around. And we owe him Ginny's life, it seems."

"Hermione!" Ron replied, looking at the girl he loved as if she had sprouted horns and an elephant's trunk. Hermione only shrugged. Ginny smiled at her gratefully. If anyone can bring the boys around, it's Hermione, she thought. But speaking of the boys . . . .

"Where's Harry?" she exclaimed, suddenly noticing his absence.

"About bloody time," Ron muttered accusingly under his breath.

"He wasn't sure you'd want to see him, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "You know how Harry is - he blames himself for you being taken, and for being unable to rescue you. But I know he wants to see you. He's down in the kitchen, if you'd like to go to talk to him."

Ginny gulped, the thought of facing Harry at once frightening and thrilling.

"I'll go to him," she said, her voice sounding much calmer than she felt. She made her way to the kitchen as her mother ushered the Pullmans upstairs to bed, assuring them that they'd be reunited with their parents first thing in the morning.

"Harry?" Ginny called, slowly pushing the kitchen door open.

"I'm here," Harry whispered, looking up at her from his seat at the table. He looked completely broken-hearted as he clutched his mug of butterbeer.

"Oh, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. He was still for a moment before returning her embrace. With a friendly squeeze, Ginny pulled away and sat down beside him.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny," Harry mumbled, not daring to look at her.

"For what? It's not your fault I was stupid enough to go wandering in the woods alone and get myself kidnapped."

"It is, it is! I should have been with you! I should have come after you! Ginny, I thought you were dead!"

"No such luck," Ginny said with a smile. "You'll have to put up with me for a while longer it seems."

"It's not funny, Gin," he replied, a stricken look on his face. "I thought I lost you for good."

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. That was thoughtless - I know it's not funny."

"Ginny, there's something I need to say to you," Harry replied, standing up and pulling Ginny up by the shoulders. "I made a big mistake. I didn't realize how much I need you, how much you mean to me. I shouldn't have broken up with you. I want us to be together again, just like we were."

Ginny shifted on her feet uncomfortably.

"But I thought you said I'd be safer if we weren't together. I thought you needed to concentrate all your time on defeating Voldemort."

"I need you by my side, Ginny. And I swear to you, I will never let anything happen to you again. I don't know how you managed to get back here alive, but I won't let my second chance slip away. Everything is going to be better now, Ginny."

"Harry -"

Ginny's attempt to protest was silenced with a fierce kiss as Harry pushed his way passed her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Ginny was momentarily startled, and the familiarity of Harry's mouth on hers washed over her. She found herself kissing him back, only dimly aware of the sloppiness of his kiss and the painful way he was gripping her shoulders. Suddenly, the image of Draco, his steely eyes soft and his hair falling across his forehead as he made love to her, flashed through Ginny's mind. Frantically, she pushed away from Harry.

"Harry, wait," she breathed, but Harry wasn't listening to her. Instead, he was staring intently over her shoulder. An icy jolt gripped Ginny's body as she realized what she would see when she turned around.

"Draco," she whispered, facing the tall blonde figure who stood in the doorway.

"So sorry to interrupt, Weasley . . . Potter," he spat before turning on his heel and disappearing.

"Oh, no, no," Ginny moaned under her breath.

"What's wrong, Gin? What is that bastard doing here?" Harry asked.

"Not now, Harry. I have to go." Harry stared after Ginny in surprise as she ran from the kitchen.

"Poor girl," he murmured, sitting back down to finish his butterbeer. "She's still traumatized from her ordeal. I shouldn't have pushed her. Tomorrow, then."

-----

Ginny raced after Draco's retreating form.

"Draco," she breathed, "wait! Please let me explain!" He rounded on her.

"What's to explain, Weasley? You've come home - it's only natural that you'd seek out your boyfriend, no matter how pathetic he is."

"No, Draco, that's not what I was trying to do!"

"Spare me the details. I have no interest in your filthy love life."

"How can you say that?" Ginny asked, a hurt look on her face.

Draco laughed. "You mean after last night?" he made a derisive noise in the back of his throat. "I hope you didn't think that meant something, Weasley."

"Of course it means something. I love you! You love me!"

Draco abruptly stopped laughing, an emotionless mask slipping over his face. "Now I never said that, did I, Weasley?" he asked softly. He allowed himself to smirk slightly. "No, you were just a bit of fun. I wondered if I could get the girl Weasley into bed. Really, I thought you might be a bit of a challenge, but it was too easy. A bit of the sad, defeated act and you were begging for it. Did you think you could save me, Weasley? Were you going to make me a better man?" Draco laughed. "Potter should come thank me - I've broken you in for him."

Ginny felt like a knife had just sliced through her.

"You don't mean that, Draco. I know you don't,” she whimpered, reaching out to touch his chest. He jumped back as if she were fire, and the stoniness of his countenance was suddenly replaced by a look of rage.

"Don't you dare touch me! And don't you dare address me so familiarly! You are nothing to me, do you understand? Now run back to your hero - let him comfort you!" he snarled. Turning from her, he disappeared around the corner.

Stricken, Ginny sank to the floor in the middle of the hallway.

"He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it," she whispered over and over again as she rocked back and forth, her tears running unchecked down her face. She was all alone in the hall, and her words brought her no comfort.

A/N: Apparently, I had Pride and Prejudice on the brain when I wrote this. Brownie points if you can spot the two references to it - one to the novel, and one to the BBC movie version. As always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 8 - Masks

The summer had not been an easy one so far, Hermione thought. Ginny was taken right out from under almost the entire Order's collective nose, and after a week of searching, everyone believed her to be dead. Hermione had held Ron in her arms as he cried, wisely not offering words of consolation, knowing that nothing she could say would be adequate. She held him, she rubbed his back and stroked his hair, she forgot her own grief in the face of his. And a part of her was simply grateful that he chose to come to her, that he chose to show her so much vulnerability. She tried to be his strength.

On the tenth day after Ginny disappeared, Bill and Fleur were married in the parlor of Grimmauld Place. Mrs. Weasley had insisted that the wedding go on - Ginny would have wanted us all to be happy, she said. The wedding carried all the sadness, all the ache of loss of a funeral. The absences of Ginny and Dumbledore hung in the air like a fog, heavy and oppressive. Hermione shuddered at the thought of the forced smiles on everyone's faces all day, of the simple toast Mr. Weasley gave at the subdued dinner that evening - his voice had cracked as he spoke of gaining a daughter, and Mrs. Weasley let big, fat tears run down her cheeks. It was awful.

Ginny had come back, like a miracle, and Hermione thanked whatever mystery of fate had made it so. Everything should have been better, everyone should have been happy once again.

But it was not so, and Hermione was worried. There was the constant tension between Ron, Harry and Malfoy. They were like vicious dogs circling one another before a fight, glaring and snarling, every muscle poised to spring. Hermione found herself ruefully wishing for the old days when Malfoy would say something nasty, Harry and Ron would return in kind, and everyone would go about their business. Now, without even a word being spoken, the hostility had increased ten-fold. When the three of them were in a room together, Harry stared at Malfoy unabashedly, hatred in his eyes. And Malfoy, though most of the time appearing entirely unconcerned and almost oblivious to Harry's presence, would shoot him looks now and then that chilled Hermione's blood.

Added to this was the difficulty the Order was having trying to track down the remaining horcruxes. Hermione's eyes felt constantly strained with the effort of reading all day, week in and week out. Her bedroom was buried under a stack of books, some brought from the library at Hogwarts by Professor McGonagall, some borrowed from the Ministry Library, some taken (Hermione didn't question how) from private collections. And somewhere in all of these books, Hermione was hoping to find the paper trails that would lead to the horcruxes. She had stumbled on clues - the mention of an antique bronze paperweight in the shape of an eagle, Rowena Ravenclaw's own crest, sent the group on a weeklong hunt through old storage vaults in Hogwarts, but nothing turned up. The paperweight was a good candidate for being a horcrux, but Hermione was having no luck tracing its whereabouts.

All of these were enough to leave Hermione feeling constantly ill at ease, but her greatest source of worry was Ginny. Ginny had returned with smiles and tears for everyone, bubbling with excitement and full of energy. But only a few hours after her return, Hermione noticed that Ginny seemed withdrawn and quiet. She had a vacant, haunted look in her deep brown eyes. The first couple of days after Ginny's return, Hermione had held her tongue, watching Ginny in silent sympathy, waiting to see if her usually happy friend would snap out of it. But Ginny remained almost mute, barely eating at meals and then returning to her room, never participating in the lively discussions taking place around her at the table, never even giving an indication that she heard them.

Finally, Hermione spoke of her fears to Harry and Ron.

"I think something's wrong with Ginny," she told them quietly.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron, looking up in alarm from the game of wizard's chess he was playing.

"Haven't you noticed how quiet she's been since she came back? And she doesn't eat very much."

"I've noticed," Harry said, nodding. "But, Hermione, think of all she's gone through in the last month. I think it weighs on her. And I know it was horrible having to travel all that way with Malfoy. He really got under her skin, I think. Probably verbally abused her the entire way. I've noticed that she seems more upset when he's around, the slimy git. If I had my way, he'd be locked up in Azkaban right now, serving a life sentence. That's more than he deserves."

"I know Ginny's been through a lot, but she's never been one to mope around like this," Hermione replied skeptically.

"Trust me, Hermione, when she and I are alone, she's perfectly fine. Maybe she's just getting adjusted to being around so many people again." Ron nodded his agreement with Harry's statement, and the two went back to their game. Hermione, still unconvinced, sighed and left.

-----

Ginny was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she sighed, not moving.

"Hi, Ginny," said Hermione, a bit hesitantly. "I just thought I'd see how you were doing. You've been a bit quiet lately. I was wondering if anything was wrong."

Ginny turned her head and contemplated her friend for a moment before returning her gaze to the ceiling.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just tired."

"Oh." A pause. "Well, if you do need to talk about anything, you know I'm here, right?"

"I know, Hermione. Thanks. But I'd like to rest now, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Ginny," Hermione said softly. "I guess I'll see you at dinner then."

"Yes, see you then." And Ginny remained motionless until the door clicked faintly with Hermione's withdrawal from the room. Sighing deeply, she rolled away from the door, curling her knees up to her chest as she faced the window. Sunlight filtered through the age-clouded glass, lighting up a track of dust specks which slowly floated in the golden haze.

Nothing really was wrong, Ginny thought to herself. She was surrounded by her family, she had the boyfriend of her dreams - what did she have to complain about? Really, if anything at all was wrong, it was that she was terribly stupid, and Hermione couldn't help her with that. She was stupid for putting her trust in Draco (Malfoy, Ginny - his name is Malfoy!), stupid for being so easily fooled by him.

But that's me! Always making the wrong decision. First it was Tom, now Drac- Malfoy, damn it! How could I fall in love with him? He must have been laughing at me the entire time. A hard lump rose in her throat at the thought. Stop it, Ginny. No more crying about him. He's not worth it, and you owe it to Harry to get over him!

That might have been the worst of it - the fact that her heart stubbornly refused to let her go back to the way she used to feel about Harry. Little things about him kept annoying her, like the sloppiness of his kisses, or his awkward fumbling with her bra, or even the goofy smile he'd get after a snog session. Ginny couldn't remember ever noticing those things before, and wondered what had changed.

When she was with Harry, she tried to be cheerful, tried to seem interested while he rattled on about Order business. And whatever he wanted to do with her physically, she passively allowed, not that he really tried to go very far. He deserved that much, at least. After all, none of it was new to her anymore, and that was nobody's fault but her own.

Mrs. Weasley had informed her daughter earlier in the week that she would be returning to Hogwarts for her sixth year. Harry, Ron and Hermione would stay at headquarters, continuing their search for the horcruxes and preparing for the imminent battle with Voldemort. Professor McGonagall had dropped off all of the textbooks the three would need to study for N.E.W.T.s, and Lupin was going to tutor them in their free time. Malfoy would be remaining at Grimmauld Place as well, partly because even Hogwarts would be a dangerous place for him, and partly because he was aiding the others in their search. The older members of the order - Mad-Eye, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley - trusted Malfoy, and felt confident that he could help make a difference in the war effort. In fact, Malfoy had proven himself useful to the Order already, detailing to the best of his ability what he knew about the Death Eaters, and drawing a map of hidden rooms in Malfoy Manor which the Ministry used to confiscate a number of dark artifacts from the estate. Malfoy had even won over Mrs. Weasley and Fleur with his smooth charm. Both women thought he was such a gentleman, always so polite and considerate.

This made dinner even harder for Ginny. Malfoy conversed civilly and even thoughtfully with Lupin, Mad-Eye, her parents, Tonks, and the other random members of the Order who dropped in on occasion. He was polite to Hermione, calling her "Granger" rather than "mudblood," and passed up opportunities to ridicule her. Harry, he avoided talking to, and by extension he avoided Ron as well, but when forced to, he was perfectly civil to the boys. Often, Ginny saw him give Harry looks that were full of barely concealed rage, but she supposed that old rivalries died hard. Ginny alone was excluded from Malfoy's attention. When his eyes slid over her, it seemed like he was looking right through her. He never addressed her, never acknowledged that she existed. The few times that she participated in the conversation, he was careful not to. She ran into him on the stairs once, and he had stopped and stood aside, staring at the wall blankly until she passed him. The action had hurt her so much she had collapsed into sobs the moment she closed her door behind her.

It was somehow more painful to her that he ignored her completely. She thought she might have been able to stand it if he had mocked her, or even if he had told Harry what happened. At least then she could have hated him and she could have retaliated. But he held his silence, and Ginny felt like she had been wiped out of existence when they were in the same room together. He had smiles for her mother and Fleur, and each one burned right through her.

Yes, Ginny thought, I'm glad I'm going back to Hogwarts. I need to get away from him. Maybe then I'll get my sanity back.

-----

"Ginny, hurry up or you'll miss the train!" Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs.

Ginny sat motionless on the bed, her packed trunk standing in front of her.

This is it, then, she thought, playing with her hands in her lap. She had longed for this day to come for weeks. No more trying to mask all the hurt inside, no more pretending to be happy around Harry, no more dealing with Hermione's anxious glances.

No more feeling like something's dying inside me every time I have to look at Draco.

With a sigh, Ginny slowly stood up and began to drag her trunk downstairs. Mrs. Weasley waved her arms fretfully when Ginny reached the entrance hall.

"Finally!" she exclaimed. "Draco, Ginny's ready to go!" Malfoy strode into view from one of the adjoining rooms. Mrs. Weasley beamed at him. "Ginny, Draco is going to escort you to the station. Harry would have liked to, but he, Ron, and Hermione had to leave early this morning on urgent business for the Order. He asked me to tell you he'd write soon."

Ginny glared balefully at Malfoy.

"Can't I just go to the station by myself? I'm not a little girl, you know."

"Don't be silly. I'm not letting you go anywhere by yourself ever again. Or at least not until you’re thirty - or forty. Now shoo! Walk quickly! Don't talk to strangers!"

Without looking at her, Malfoy took Ginny's trunk and rolled it out the front door of Grimmauld Place. Ginny had no choice but to follow. He set a quick pace and didn't look back to see if she was keeping up. Scowling, Ginny walked as fast as she could and managed to get within a few feet of him, but she hung back, deciding she'd rather glare at his back than walk at his side. She noticed that he held himself stiffly, his shoulders erect and squared, as if he could feel her eyes on him.

Staring at him as he walked in front of her, Ginny felt all of her anguish turning into a boiling rage.

How dare he ignore me after what he did! How dare he pretend it never happened and pretend that I don't exist!

Ginny's fists were clenched tightly as they strode into King's Cross Station, heading for Platform 9 3/4. There were far fewer parents saying goodbye to their children on the platform, Ginny noticed at a glance as Malfoy rolled her trunk to a stop near the train. She stopped behind him.

"We're here," he said, turning to her.

"OH, NOW YOU'LL TALK TO ME? NOW? AMAZING! I THOUGHT PERHAPS I'D BECOME INVISIBLE! SO VERY KIND OF YOU TO ACKNOWLEDGE MY EXISTENCE! WHAT WONDERFUL CONDESCENSION!" she exploded at him.

People around them turned to stare.

"Have a nice term, Weasley," Malfoy said flatly.

"I HOPE YOU ROT!" Ginny shouted in reply before hurling herself onto the train, her trunk in tow. She stormed down the aisle and banged her way into a compartment, flopping onto a seat and glaring out the window at the platform. To her surprise, Malfoy was still standing where she had left him, a look of surprise on his face. She watched as he shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

Leaning back in her seat, Ginny realized she hadn't said any of the things she'd really wanted to. She wanted to tell him that he had crushed her, that he had made her love him as part of some sick game, but that her love was real anyway and it wasn't going away - no matter how hard she tried to make it. She wanted to ask him why. Why her? Hadn't she been kind to him? When she had walked in on him in the bathroom last spring, she had been nice. Harry, on the other hand, had almost killed him. Was Malfoy only trying to get at Harry through her? If so, why hadn't he rubbed Harry's face in it?

Ginny sighed. None of it mattered anyway. And even if she hadn't said the right things, at least she'd said something. And yelling at him felt good. Having the last word felt very good. Ginny felt almost strong again.

I can conquer this, she thought. I will be free of him.

-----

It was a crisp, sunny, fall day, perfect for the trip to Hogsmeade, and Ginny chatted animatedly with Luna and Neville as they walked into the village. The two had become her closest friends over the past couple of months, partly because so few students had returned to Hogwarts this year. Ginny also realized that she really loved spending time with them. Between Luna's bizarre proclamations and Neville's klutzy kindheartedness, Ginny had found a sanctuary from her troubles, and it didn't take too many days in their company before she found herself laughing and enjoying life again.

"Oh, Scrivenshaft's!" Luna exclaimed as they approached the shop. "I'm going to check in here for a swan's feather quill. The swan is known to be an excellent conduit of logical thought."

Ginny snorted. "I'm not sure even a 'conduit of logical thought' is going to save your Arithmancy grade, Luna," she laughed.

"Well, it can't hurt," Luna sniffed before breaking into a smile herself.

"Uh, I'll help you look for one, Luna," Neville said, turning slightly pink.

Luna blinked at Neville absently and Ginny had to repress a fit of giggles.

"I'll go on to the Three Broomsticks, then. Shall I save you both a seat?"

"Yes, please do," replied Luna. "And tell Harry hello for us."

Ginny smiled and left her two friends. She didn't know what was more amusing: Neville's obvious crush on Luna, or Luna's apparent obliviousness to it.

They'll make a cute couple, though, she thought.

She was still smiling when she strode into sight of the Three Broomsticks, where a familiar figure with dark, messy hair was pacing in random circles in front of the entrance.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted, running forward to greet her boyfriend.

"Hi, Gin," he replied brightly, catching her up in a bear hug. "You look great!"

"Thanks." Ginny frowned. "I think I've put on weight since this summer, though."

"That's probably a good thing," Harry replied, eyeing Ginny critically. "You didn't seem to be eating much this summer, you know."

Ginny shook her head dismissively and led the way inside. The two found a table near the bar, and Harry went to order them butterbeers. Ginny smiled as she watched Harry. She hadn't seen him since the summer, but they had written back and forth frequently. Seeing him in person was wonderful. He looked thinner than when she had last seen him, and there were lines of worry on his face Ginny hadn't noticed before. From his letters, Ginny gathered that the search for the horcruxes was not going well.

"Here we are," Harry said, setting two mugs down in front of them. "So how's school? Did you do well on that Potions essay you were telling me about?"

"I did. Slughorn gave me an O on it, and said it 'reminded him of a bright young witch he taught long ago' - you know, typical Slug stuff."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, that does sound like him. It's good to know some things don’t change around here."

"And how about you? Any luck yet?"

"Well, you know I can't really talk about it," - Harry glanced around the room warily - "but it looks like we've got a strong lead."

"Harry, that's great news!"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. But I didn't come to talk about that stuff. I want to hear more about school, and how you're doing. I've really missed you, Gin." He reached across the table and squeezed Ginny's hand. She smiled at him and squeezed back.

This is perfect, she thought to herself contentedly. Spending an afternoon with a boyfriend who really loves me and who really deserves to be loved. Harry's so nice, and so good - I'm lucky to be with him. And it feels so normal spending time with him. Like being with family.

The two chatted about school stuff and Ginny filled him in on the budding romance between Luna and Neville, which Harry found hilarious.

"Imagine their children!" he laughed.

They were wiping tears from their eyes and trying to catch their breath when Luna and Neville found them.

"What's so funny?" asked Neville with a smile.

"Oh, nothing, Nev. Just caught a case of the giggles," Ginny replied as her friends took seats at the table.

"That sounds bad," said Luna. "You should eat peas with dinner tonight. They're supposed to help with humor related maladies."

Harry and Ginny both started giggling again and Luna shook her head sadly at them.

"A serious case," she whispered to Neville.

"Oh, but anyway," Harry said, choking off his laughter. "Ginny tells me there's going to be a Halloween ball this year?"

Neville nodded. "McGonagall says it's to boost school morale. We're all supposed to wear costumes."

"I'm going as a Spatterhorned Snackniffler," Luna declared matter-of-factly. No one dared ask her what that was.

"I don't think I'm going to go," Ginny sighed. "I'll just be standing around the punchbowl all night."

"Gin, you should go! You'll have fun," Harry replied.

"I don't know. There won't be anyone for me to dance with," she said.

"Well, you never know. There might be someone for you to dance with," Harry said with a cryptic expression on his face. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him.

"If I go, what should I dress as? I'm not good at costumes."

"Hmm, you'd look cute as pixie," Harry grinned. "Promise me you'll go."

"All right, I'll go. But I better have a good time, or I'm blaming you," Ginny replied playfully.

"It's a deal."

-----

"Are my wings straight? They feel crooked," Ginny said, trying to peer over her shoulder.

"They're fine. Stop fiddling with them," Luna replied.

The two were finishing their toiletries in preparation for the Halloween Ball. Luna, her hair charmed to stand in a stiff mohawk, was wearing a mottled robe of orange and purple with matching gloves. She sported a slightly transfigured tube sock on her nose which was supposed to represent the long snout of the Spatterhorned Snackniffler.

"Your snout still looks like a sock," Ginny told her.

"It's supposed to. In all the sightings of the elusive Spatterhorned Snackniffler, the witnesses have described its nose as 'sock-like.'"

"Oh." Ginny returned to eyeing herself in the mirror. The electric-blue glitter dusted across her cheeks and bare arms sparkled in the candlelight, and her form-fitting strapless blue gown had a full skirt that Ginny enjoyed twirling around in. Her bright blue translucent wings were charmed to flutter at random intervals and she kept getting chills when she felt the rush of air on her back. She wore her hair down in big, fat ringlets, which even she had to admit looked pretty, and Luna had affixed little blue lights throughout her deep red locks.

"Whoa, you both look great," Neville said in greeting when they met him in front of the marble staircase near the Great Hall. He was dressed in a full suit of armor, which he seemed to be having difficulty maneuvering around in. His visor snapped shut with a bang, and he pushed it back up, grinning sheepishly.

"Nice costume, Nev," Ginny said, smiling.

"Thanks," he replied, and then clearing his throat he said, "Allow me to escort you fair maidens into the ball." He offered each of them an arm.

"Oh, are we getting into character, then?" asked Luna brightly. "In that case . . . bring me candy or I shall eat you," she intoned ominously.

Neville and Ginny both started laughing.

"What? The Snackniffler is a very dangerous beast, only soothed with the sweetness of candy."

"You better bring her to the concession table, Neville," Ginny chortled. As her friends went in search of refreshment, Ginny marveled at the decorations in the Great Hall. The ceiling twinkled with stars, barely visible through the glow of thousands of candles floating high above her head. The entire hall was cast in a subdued light, but Ginny could still make out the giant pumpkins scattered along the walls, and what looked like bats swooping through the candles.

The room was filled with students in all sorts of fantastical costumes. There were dragons and vampires, professional quidditch players and bejeweled princesses. Ginny barely recognized Kevin when he hurried over to her, looking exactly like a miniature Peruvian Vipertooth, smoking snout and all.

"Wow, Kevin," she exclaimed, "Cool costume!"

"Thanks," he grinned. "You look really pretty."

"Well, thanks."

"Have you seen Lizzie anywhere? I seem to have lost her."

"I don't think so. What's she dressed as?"

"A giant pumpkin. With all these real pumpkins around, I don't know where to look." Kevin glanced around the Great Hall despairingly.

"I'll keep an eye out for her," Ginny said.

"Thanks, Ginny. I've got to get back to my date. Just wanted to say hello." Kevin hurried over to a second-year Hufflepuff dressed like a big, pink bunny. The girl was glaring at Ginny jealously. Ginny laughed. Just then, the orchestra began a slow, mournful waltz, in keeping with the occasion. Couples formed in the middle of the floor and twirled in time to the eerie music.

Ginny sighed and looked around her. No sign of Harry yet, but she was sure he was coming. He had as good as told her so when he visited her for the Hogsmeade weekend.

Suddenly, a hand was on her shoulder. Ginny whirled around and came face to face with a tall figure, robed in black from head to foot and wearing a jeweled mask shaped like the head of a falcon, with black and brown feathers around the eyes, and a short, intimidating beak. The figure's mask covered his face from the forehead to right below his nose, leaving his mouth visible. In the low light of the Great Hall, Ginny could not see the figure's eyes, but his lips were set firmly. The jewels on his mask glinted as he turned from her to beckon toward the dance floor with one gloved hand. The other hand rested on the small of her back and gently pushed her forward.

"Um, okay," Ginny said, feeling nervous in the presence of the masked figure. She knew it was Harry - it had to be, but his silence, and the rather scary costume he'd chosen unnerved her.

Reaching a spot near the center of the floor, the figure turned to Ginny and caught her hand in one of his, leading her in the steps of the waltz. The two moved silently in time to the stately music, and Ginny felt herself relaxing in the arms of her partner. His gloved hand resting on the small of her back was soothingly warm and his steady gaze sent a thrill through her. Ginny marveled at how attracted she felt to Harry, a sensation that had long been missing in their relationship.

She took a step closer to him and rested her head against his chest. She could feel the firm muscles beneath his robes tense at her touch.

“I love you,” she murmured, saying the words she had avoided with Harry for so long, and finally feeling like she really meant it.

Harry didn't respond. Instead, he used one gloved hand to tilt her head back so that she was looking directly at his jeweled mask and his red, inviting lips. Slowly, he brought them down on hers, burning her with a soft kiss.

When the kiss ended, Ginny realized they were standing still, surrounded by waltzing couples. She brushed her fingers across her lips, where she could still feel the heat Harry had left there.

"I'm glad you came, Harry," she whispered to her partner. He stiffened suddenly, but then nodded his head once. Taking her hand he led her off the dance floor toward a group of large pumpkins.

"Ginny!" one of the pumpkins exclaimed, and Ginny realized that Lizzie's orange-painted face was protruding from the body of what she had assumed was only a vegetable.

"Hey," she replied with a laugh. "I didn't recognize you." Still smiling, she turned back to Harry only to find he wasn't behind her. Ginny glanced around quickly but didn't see him anywhere.

He's being awfully mysterious tonight. Maybe he went to get drinks.

Ginny chatted with Lizzie for a while, and then Luna and Neville wandered over.

"Have either of you seen Harry?"

Both shook their heads.

"Hey, who were you dancing with?" asked Neville.

"That was Harry."

"Oh. He never even said hello," Neville frowned.

"I liked his costume," said Luna.

-----

Luna found Ginny in the Gryffindor girl's dormitory after breakfast the next day, crying into her pillow.

"Hey, what's wrong? I thought we were going for a walk around the lake," she said, sitting on the bed beside her distraught friend. Ginny had been perfectly all right at breakfast, even excited about receiving an owl from Harry, which she had run off to read.

"Did you get bad news?" Luna asked, and the messy red-haired blob in front of her nodded vigorously, holding out a single sheet of parchment.

Luna took it and read aloud:

Dear Ginny,

Great news! Last night we had a success with that thing we were talking about recently. Now, don't get upset, but Ron was slightly injured - just some burns on his arms. He's at St. Mungo's now, and we're told he'll be out in a day or two. He's really playing it up though, so if you'd like to send him some get well candy, I'm sure it would make him very happy.

I'm very sorry I didn't come to the dance at Hogwarts last night. I know I all but promised I'd be there. I'm sure you understand why though, and I hope you aren't upset. I bet you had a great time without me, anyway. I'm sad I didn't get to see you in your costume, or show you mine. I was going to be a cowboy - everyone said I looked great. Well, except Malfoy, but who cares what that rotter thinks anyway, right?

Take care,

Harry

"Wait," Luna said, confusion all over her face. "If Harry didn't come to the Halloween Ball, who were you dancing with?"

Ginny pulled the pillow more tightly around her head and sobbed even louder.

A/N: Draco's final speech in this chapter was heavily influenced by Wuthering Heights, which is one of the best novels ever! The story is winding its way toward a conclusion - I have (I think) 3 chapters left and an epilogue. I would greatly appreciate any suggestions, and I promise, Ginny will grow a spine very soon!

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!


Chapter 9 - Christmas Confessions


"You're quite stubborn, you realize, right?"

Ginny huffed in exasperation at her companion, annoyed that she was bringing the subject up. Again.

"Oh, I'm stubborn?" she shot back. "I'd say the definition of stubborn is believing something despite mounds and mounds of incontrovertible evidence pointing to the fact that you're wrong. That seems a bit stubborn to me."

"Oh, facts," Luna replied with a dismissive wave of one mittened hand. "Daddy says facts are for people of little faith. And besides, if you want to talk about evidence, there's plenty to back my argument, if you ask me."

"Well, for one thing, I didn't ask you now that you mention it, and for another, your interpretation" - Ginny placed heavy emphasis on the word - "of the evidence is completely wrong."

Luna raised an eyebrow at her friend and for a moment, the only sound was the crunch of snow under their boots as they trod their way around the lake.

"Ginny," she said finally, an almost pleading note in her voice, "just think about it. Why would Malfoy have come to the ball if he didn't have feelings for you?"

"As I've said about a million times now, I'm sure he did it as part of the game he's playing with me. He thinks it's great fun to make me miserable."

"If he really wanted to make you miserable, he could have picked lots of easier ways to do it. He could have said something to Harry or your family, for one thing."

Ginny found herself sincerely wishing she hadn't told Luna everything that had happened between her and Draco. If she'd kept her mouth shut, she wouldn't have had to argue about him every day for nearly the last six weeks.

"Luna! He told me himself that it was a game! What more proof of his intentions do you need?" Ginny kicked at a snowdrift angrily.

"Right. He told you he didn't have feelings for you after he found you snogging Harry. And you can't think of any reason why he might, at that moment - when you had just betrayed him - say hurtful things to you? How are you getting such high marks in all your classes? That's a mystery even worthy of the Quibbler."

Ginny had a sudden urge to push her friend into the lake. "It wasn't just the words, Luna," she said icily. "He never gave me the chance to explain. He ignored me for the rest of the summer. He wouldn't even look at me. If he really had feelings for me, wouldn't he have tried to find out what happened? Maybe trusted me a little? Wouldn't he at least have heard me out before casting me off like complete garbage?"

"Oh, Ginny," Luna said softly. "He isn't very nice, is he? We're clearly not working with perfect material here. But he doesn't need to be perfect to love you. And at least he's not quite as bad as the evil sorcerer Ferrara. Legend has it that he caught his first wife just looking at another man and had her transfigured into a painting. His second wife apparently spoke too kindly to a gardener and she was transfigured into a statue. I can't remember what he turned his third wife into. Now that's jealousy. Funny thing is he was known in the Muggle world as a very discriminating art collector. Some Muggle-poet even wrote about him."

Ginny shook her head at Luna's bizarre tangent. "Well, then, even if you're right and Malfoy was just insanely jealous, do I really want to be with someone like that? I'd prefer not to end up as artwork, thank you."

"I doubt he'd ever turn you into art," Luna said, but the thoughtful look in her eyes betrayed the fact that she was pondering the question.

"In any case," Ginny cut in, "it doesn't matter how he feels about me. He can love me or hate me to his heart's content. I've chosen Harry, and I'm happy that way. And again, Harry must never know about any of this! It's not like I really cheated on him when I kissed Draco - I thought it was him!"

I did think it was Harry, didn't I? Ginny sighed. After she had received Harry's owl that morning after the Halloween Ball, a number of details about the night before stood out in her mind. Like how strangely attracted she'd been to her dance partner, and how differently she’d felt with him. And she had forced herself not to question it that night, just desperately wanting to feel that way again. She had wanted to feel with Harry the way she had with Draco.

Ginny's reverie and the two girls' squabble were interrupted by a rapidly approaching and wildy gesticulating Lizzie Pullman.

"Oh, Ginny. Oh, Luna," she panted as she reached them, clutching her chest with one hand and still waving the other excitedly.

"You okay, Lizzie?" Ginny asked.

"Never better," Lizzie panted. "In fact, I am THE GREATEST!" She drew the last two words out in a long shout that echoed across the frozen lake.

Ginny laughed. "How come?"

"I just earned my house ten points in Transfiguration," Lizzie replied smugly. "I turned a feather into a toothbrush on my first try, and the headmistress was so impressed, she gave Ravenclaw ten points. Kevin's never earned the house any points, and now he must bow down to me, for I. Am. The. Greatest!" Lizzie looked about one step removed from beating her chest in savage pride.

Luna and Ginny both laughed, their argument forgotten in the younger girl's triumphant joy.

"Ten points for our house," Luna said, "well done. I believe that puts us ahead of Gryffindor, doesn't it?"

The two Ravenclaws exchanged a smile and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Congratulations, Lizzie," she said magnanimously.

"Oh, and that's not all I have to be glad about," Lizzie said. "Kevin and that horrid Hufflepuff finally broke up."

"The big pink bunny?" asked Ginny.

"The same. She was no good for my brother. Terribly jealous. Can you believe she thought Kevin fancied you, Ginny?"

"Oh, but that's ridiculous!"

"Exactly. But anytime Kevin talked about the summer, she'd get angry at him and accuse him of 'dwelling on you.' He finally got fed up with it, and dropped her."

"Well good for him. I hope he's not too upset about it."

"I don't think so - he seemed cheerier today than he has in weeks. We had a nice long chat about the summer, and about how glad we both are to be friends with you - no matter what horrible things brought us together."

"Aw, Lizzie, I feel the same way. You and Kevin are two of the best people I know."

"I do wish Malfoy could be at Hogwarts, too. I miss having him around."

Ginny was silent. Luna eyed her friend for a moment, and then decided to press the issue.

"So you liked Malfoy, did you?" she asked Lizzie hopefully.

"Not at first, of course," was the reply. "But after we got out of the dungeon, he really seemed to change. He was nice to me, most of the time. Never really in front of anyone else, though. I think he didn't want to get caught being friendly. It might have damaged his image or something." Lizzie was lost in memory for a moment. "Ginny, did you know he could tell stories, too?"

Ginny looked at the chubby blonde with curiosity. "What do you mean?" she asked finally, almost against her will.

"Well, after the story I told you guys, later that day, he came up to me and said he had thought of a story of his own. So I asked him to tell it and he did. I liked it."

"I wish I could have heard it," said Luna. "I can't imagine what kind of stories Malfoy could come up with."

"I remember it, mostly, if you want to hear it," said Lizzie.

"Yes," said Ginny quickly.

"Okay, but it isn't word for word. The story is about a goblin, back in the days when goblins and wizards were fighting and goblins lived in deep caves far away from any humans. There was a goblin prince, an evil, ugly creature, who liked to pull the wings off fairies and stomp on flowers. He hated everything and everyone, and all the other goblins hated him, too. One day, the horrid goblin prince was wandering in the thick forest when he got lost and couldn't find the way back to his cave. He walked for many days, traveling through valleys and over mountains, but he never saw anything that looked familiar. Finally, he decided to give up, and sat down on a tree stump to cry and feel sorry for himself. Because even though he hated his cave, at least it was home.

"While he was sitting on the stump sobbing his shriveled goblin heart out, a beautiful fairy princess approached him. She asked him why he was crying, and at first he told her to go away. But the fairy was kind and good, and couldn't leave a creature in pain, no matter how horrid that creature was. So she didn't leave the goblin prince alone; instead she sat down beside him and patted his shoulder until he stopped crying.

"Something about the beautiful fairy made the goblin prince tell her his problems - not just that he was lost, but that he hated everything and everyone, and everyone hated him, too. The fairy took pity on the goblin prince, and told him that if he could be nice to every living creature for ten whole days, he would magically find his home again, and be loved by those around him. The goblin prince didn’t know if she was telling the truth, but she seemed like an honest fairy, and he didn’t have anything to lose, so he agreed to her terms.

"He spent the next ten days with the beautiful fairy, and she showed him how to be nice to those around him. He found that it wasn't so hard or so horrible, and he also realized as the ten days were drawing to a close, that he had fallen in love with his fairy savior.

"The tenth day dawned, and the goblin was upset. He didn't want to be shown the way home because he knew it meant he'd have to leave the fairy princess. As the sun set, the fairy princess appeared before him, ready to fulfill the bargain, and he began to cry. Again, the fairy princess patted his shoulder until his tears were spent. When at last he looked at her, she told him that the bargain was already concluded - that he was home, and that his home was with her now. She told him that she loved him, too. And when the ugly goblin kissed his fairy princess, he was magically transformed into a handsome prince. The two were married and lived happily ever after. Isn't that a nice story for Malfoy to tell?" Lizzie concluded.


"A very nice story," said Luna with a smug smile. "I never thought he'd describe himself as ugly, but Ginny, you do make a lovely fairy princess. And I believe this counts as more evidence for my case."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ginny replied with a frown.

Luna made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like "Gack!"

"Stubborn and thick!" she exclaimed.

-----

Ron was waiting for her at the station, and Ginny felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had been dreading her arrival since she boarded the Hogwarts Express, afraid that it would be Harry waiting for her, or even worse, Malfoy. Two people she wasn't ready to face yet. The Christmas holiday could not be over soon enough.

"Ron!" she shouted, throwing herself into her brother's arms. He hugged her back for a moment and then pulled away, wincing.

"Careful, Gin," he said. "War wounds, you know. They still get a bit ticklish."

"Oh, poor, brave darling," she said tenderly as Ron put on a noble, self-sacrificing expression. Ginny repressed a giggle.

"Can you tell me about it?" she asked.

"As soon as we're home - too risky out here, you know." Ron took up Ginny's trunk and the two walked side by side back to Grimmauld Place.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was abuzz with activity when the two youngest Weasleys walked in. Mrs. Weasley came bustling out of the parlor to welcome her daughter home.

"You look wonderful, my dear! And you've arrived just in time to help with the decorating!" she said, wrapping Ginny in a big hug. Under her breath she murmured, "Drop your things upstairs and hurry back - Tonks has broken more ornaments than she's managed to get on the tree, and I'm feeling rather close to homicidal rage."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded once, moving to obey her mother's command.

On her way down the hall toward the stairs, her attention was arrested by the sound of a heated argument coming from the kitchen below. Curiosity compelled her to get closer, and she silently made her way to the kitchen, stopping just outside the door.

"I don't like it!" came Harry's voice, raised in anger. "Waiting is only going to give them a chance to strengthen their defenses!"

"That's a possibility, yes-" Ginny recognized this more hesitant, soothing voice as Lupin's.

"I, for one," interrupted a deep bass - definitely Shacklebolt, thought Ginny - "am inclined to agree with Malfoy. At this point He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is undoubtedly aware of our intentions, and the 'guards' he's sent to the Riddle House are likely as not a trap."

Agree with Malfoy? Ginny wondered.

"I also think Draco's probably right about Voldemort setting a trap for us," Hermione's distinct voice agreed. "But what choice do we have? Helga Hufflepuff's cup was seen there - we know that now for a fact. We have to see if we can find it and destroy it."

As interested as Ginny was in the conversation, a small part of her felt a momentary tinge of annoyance that Hermione referred to Malfoy as "Draco." The name sounded so intimate coming from Hermione.

"Well, then," came a soft drawl that sent a shiver up Ginny's spine, "it seems our only choice is to try to outsmart them - get into and out of the house without setting off whatever trap they're planning. But of course, if Potter prefers it, we could go rushing in like fools and take our chances."

At this point, the kitchen erupted in angry shouts as Harry began yelling at Malfoy, while others in room tried to bring about order. Ginny hurried away, her mind running over everything she had heard.

Part of her was elated at the thought that the Order sounded close to finding another of the horcruxes, even as she worried over the safety of her friends and family. Another part of her was surprised to hear Malfoy's voice among the rest, clearly enjoying a position of importance and acceptance in the group. A position Ginny herself had never been granted.

Shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts, Ginny turned her steps in the direction of her room.

-----

Christmas morning dawned and Ginny woke to sunlight streaming through the window and warming her cheeks. Added to the snugness of her blankets, Ginny felt cozy and contented, and she wondered if anyone would notice if she just spent the whole day basking in her warm bed.

The thought caused her to frown. Probably not, she sighed inwardly.

Ginny had felt practically invisible since her arrival two days ago. Hermione and Harry had enthusiastically greeted her, but had since lapsed into almost forgetfulness regarding her presence. The trio, along with almost everyone else in the house, spent most of their time in the kitchen, going over plans that Ginny was not privy to. Ginny had expected that she would get little attention from her friends and family at such a crucial time, and really, she did not begrudge them the secrets they kept in the name of the war effort, but she could not help feeling a little hurt at Harry's lack of interest in her. Besides a hug and sometimes an absent-minded peck on the cheek when he ran into her, Harry did not otherwise register Ginny's presence in the house. Even at mealtimes when everyone was gathered together around the great wooden table in the kitchen, his animated conversation was all reserved for Ron and Hermione. Ginny felt like she was once again relegated to the position of tag-along, except this time, she didn't even feel that hopeless hero-worshipping crush that used to sustain her.

I guess I shouldn't have been worried about spending so much time with Harry over the break after all, she thought ruefully. The same thought applied to her worries regarding Malfoy, who ignored her just as firmly as he had done over the summer. No word or glance from him had acknowledged his presence at the Halloween Ball, and Ginny had already given up trying to figure out what he was playing at.

Sighing, Ginny decided she had best get out of bed after all - there was no sense stewing all day, especially when it was Christmas. Pulling her bathrobe around her to keep out the chill, Ginny unwrapped the presents at the foot of her bed, smiling over the earrings from Harry and the copy of Chicken Soup for the Teenage Witch’s Soul from Hermione, who clearly still believed Ginny was depressed and in need of an inspirational read. Ginny's jumper from her mother turned out to be a deep purple this year, and Ginny found she actually rather liked the color. She slipped off her bathrobe and put the jumper on, smiling at the sight she must be making in her pinstriped cotton pajama bottoms, overlarge purple jumper and fuzzy red slippers.

Ah, but who will notice, anyway? she asked herself for the second time that morning, this time with a smile.

The question was a rhetorical one, but Ginny got an answer as soon as she stepped out into the hallway and collided with Malfoy.

"Sorry," she said, before realizing who she had bumped. Looking up into his eyes, she froze.

He had also stopped to stare at her, and Ginny could only imagine how hideous he found her with her hair all mussed from sleep and in her outfit.

Partially to distract him from his close scrutiny of her, she blurted out, "Happy Christmas, Draco."

He seemed startled at first that she had actually spoken to him, so long had a silence been maintained between them.

After a moment, his lip curled into a faint sneer. "The same to you, Weasley," he said, deliberately looking her up and down.

Ginny dropped her head, trying to hide her hurt expression from him.

Why did I even bother? she berated herself as she rushed passed him down the stairs.

-----

Ginny couldn't help but notice that everyone was tense and preoccupied all Christmas Day. Something was definitely going on. At dinner, conversation seemed forced, and the playful banter rang false. Mrs. Weasley was behaving particularly strangely, admonishing everyone to eat up so that they'd have lots of energy.

"Energy for what, Mum?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Why, for caroling after dinner, and all those Christmas crackers that still need pulling," her mother replied rapidly.

Ginny didn't buy it, but she held her tongue. With her family and some of the Order members, she sang along to rather off-key renditions of "We Saw Three Wizards Apparate In," "Joy to the (Wizarding) World" and the crude Hogwarts version of "Jingle Bells":

Jingle Bells,
Ravenclaw smells,
Hufflepuffs are wimps,
Gryffindors are prudish bores,
And Slytherins are whores and pimps, hey!

The song had apparently been the same even in her parents' time. Crackers pulled, a few games of Exploding Snaps, and suddenly everyone began yawning loudly.

"What a day!" said Mr. Weasley, stretching his arms. "Think I'll turn in now."

As if on cue, everyone else in the parlor, Ginny excepted, began to yawn and nod in agreement. Filing up the stairs in the mass exodus toward bed, Ginny wondered with a mental eye roll if she'd have to pretend to be fast asleep before everyone left on their "secret" mission. Sneakiness, she decided, was definitely not a talent possessed by most Order members. In fact, the only person who probably had sneaky down to an art form had absented himself from the after-dinner proceedings.

Just as well - Malfoy probably can't sing anyway.

-----

Ginny, determined to remain awake in order to hear what everyone was up to, woke up a number of hours later to the sound of anxious voices in the hallway outside her bedroom. Light shone under her door, and she could see the shadows of people passing back and forth. Quietly, she rose from bed and tiptoed to the door, opening it as slowly and gently as she could.

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed in a half-whisper. Ginny was surprised to see the puffy redness around Hermione's eyes and evident tear stains on her cheeks.

"What is it? What happened?" Ginny asked as her stomach knotted in sudden fear.

Hermione regarded her nervously. "It's nothing - I'm sorry I woke you," she replied with a slight hitch in her voice.

"Look, I know you went on a mission tonight. I'm guessing it was to the Riddle House to look for the Hufflepuff cup, so just tell me what's going on. Is someone hurt?"

Hermione, perhaps cowed by the steely tone of the younger girl or perhaps because she really did want to talk, nodded once. Without another word, Ginny drew her into her bedroom.

"So?" she asked quietly when they were both seated on the bed.

"No one's hurt, so you don't have to worry," - Ginny let out a great sigh of relief - "but you're right, we did go to the Riddle House to look for the cup. We figured the Death Eaters wouldn't expect us on Christmas." Hermione paused as fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

Ginny patted her hand awkwardly, waiting for her to continue when she was able.

"I'm so stupid!" Hermione blurted. "I always get worked up after a mission - it's just so hard seeing people hurt, even when they're evil and deserve it! And tonight - it was awful! The house was crawling with Death Eaters, and we had to fight, and poor Draco!"

Ginny suddenly gripped Hermione's hand painfully.

"What happened to him?" she breathed.

"His father was there, leading the other Death Eaters. We were all fighting and everyone got separated - I was helping Ron fight Avery on the other side of the room, and Draco had to fight all alone. Lucius used a Killing Curse, and Draco just blocked it in time, and then Draco hit him with his own spell - I think it was a Body-Bind, I'm not sure - but it was really powerful, and Lucius was thrown across the room. He hit his head, Ginny, on the corner of the fireplace mantle. He hit his head so hard I heard it! And then he just fell to the floor, and there was blood everywhere, all over him, all around him. We had to keep fighting, but pretty soon most of the other Death Eaters apparated out. We managed to capture a couple. When we got over to Lucius, though, we realized that he wasn't just stunned. He was dead."

"Oh, no!" Ginny exclaimed, covering her gaping mouth with one hand.

"It was an accident! I know Draco didn't mean to kill him. I saw him cast a non-lethal spell. And I know I shouldn't be crying over that worthless, horrible excuse for a human being . . . and can you imagine how Draco's feeling right now? I mean, killing his own father!"

"Where is he?" Ginny asked, standing.

"He went straight to his room. He didn't talk to any of us after it happened, he just stood there, looking at him." Hermione was still shaking her head and wiping away tears as Ginny exited the room.

She went to Draco's room at the end of the hall and entered without knocking. It was only after she silently shut the door behind her and stood in the darkened room that she wondered what she was doing, and what she would say.

Her eyes adjusted to the dark quickly, and in the dim moonlight she distinguished Draco sitting at the end of the bed, his head bowed and a bottle of firewhisky clutched in one hand that hung between his knees. He didn't appear aware of her presence.

Quickly, Ginny crossed the space between them and crouched down beside him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek.

"Draco?" she asked hesitantly.

Draco hissed and jerked back out of her reach.

"Why are you here?" he demanded.

"I . . . I-"

"Let me guess. Have you come to comfort me?" Draco spat, grabbing Ginny's wrist and pulling her toward him. "Ha! How will you do it, Ginny? How do you make precious Potter feel better?"

He stood, tossing aside the firewhisky bottle and roughly hauled Ginny to her feet.

"Do you comfort him like this, Ginny?" he demanded, pushing her onto the bed and pinning her wrists above her head. "Does this help ease his pain?" His mouth closed over hers in a painful kiss. Ginny tasted blood in her mouth and struggled to free herself.

"Perhaps, when Potter is really feeling low, you sooth him in other ways," Draco hissed into her ear, releasing her wrists to begin tearing at the buttons of her thin cotton pajama top. Ginny balled her fists and pummeled Draco in the shoulders and neck, trying to fend him off.

"No, Draco, no!" she shouted at him.

"Stupid, stupid girl," he laughed, covering her neck in bruising kisses. "Didn't you know it's no use pleading with me? Didn't they tell you what I am?" He drew himself up onto his knees and gripped her shoulders, shaking her with each word to emphasize what he was saying. "I am a killer. A murderer. And you, Ginny dear, were wrong about me."

Tears stung Ginny's eyes and her vision swam as she looked up at Draco's rage-filled face.

"Draco, please," she whimpered, unsure of what she was pleading for.

He released her suddenly and stood up.

"Get out," he said through clenched teeth.

Ginny sat up to look at him, but didn't otherwise move.

"Didn't you hear me? I said GET OUT!" he raged at her, hauling her up by the collar of her top and shoving her toward the door. He pushed her through it and slammed it behind her.

Ginny stood for a moment, her breath hitching as she tried to get control over it. A burning sensation was building up in her chest. Holding her torn pajama top closed around her, Ginny began to run, down the stairs, through the entrance hall, and out the front door.

A blast of cold air hit her as she stepped into the dark winter night, but Ginny paid no attention to it. She ran and ran through deserted streets, past darkened houses, through the yellow pools of light that collected on the snow beneath the street lamps. She ran until her lungs felt like bursting, and then she collapsed onto a bench at the entrance to a small park.

The cold seeped into Ginny's skin, numbing her fingers and the tips of her ears as she sat frozen in place. Her tears had long since dried, leaving her feeling empty inside.

Why? she asked herself. Why do I keep letting him hurt me like this? Why do I suffer over and over again for him, because of him? And why do I love him so much? Gods, I don't want to! I chose Harry!

"I love Harry!" she shouted defiantly into the ice-crusted trees. Tears came again at this point, and Ginny buried her head in her hands and sobbed, not caring how loud she was being. All of the moments she had shared with the two men played through her mind randomly - her first kiss with Harry followed by her first kiss with Draco, a light caress from one, a shared laugh with the other - it was a hopeless jumble, a tangled mess.

When her tears were once more spent, she was able to think more clearly about what had just happened between her and Draco. What hurt most was the hate she saw in his eyes.

Is that how he really feels about me then? Was I foolish enough to believe Luna, to secretly hope that underneath everything he actually loved me? All this time I've been lying to myself, telling myself that he didn't matter, that Harry was the only one I loved. And he hates me, just like he made so clear last summer.

Ginny squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut out the painful thought.

And still I love him. And Gods, how he needs someone right now! He's not a murderer, but he'll never believe it.

Despite everything that had just passed between Ginny and Draco, despite his cruelty to her, she wished she was holding him right then, helping him fight his demons.

Ginny lay down on the park bench, the image of Draco's head in her lap as she stroked his forehead soothing her and dulling her heartache. She barely felt the cold anymore.

-----

Rough hands lifted her up and she was dimly aware of being cradled in someone's arms.

So cold, she thought, struggling toward consciousness.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm sorry," she heard a voice whisper before all was blackness and oblivion once again.

More voices broke through her consciousness.

". . . found her . . ."

". . . lucky to be alive . . ."

". . . freeze to death . . ."

". . . thank you, Draco . . ."

". . . sleep draught . . ."

". . . my poor baby . . ."

". . . was she thinking . . ."

And then quiet.

At some point later on Ginny realized that she was conscious, but that she couldn't see anything, or move.

A sleeping potion, she thought. She was having a bad reaction to it. It was at this point that Ginny realized someone was talking to her.

". . . so sorry, Ginny! This is all my fault. I know I haven't been paying enough attention to you. I promise, though, that I'm going to make it up to you. As soon as this war's over, everything will be great. We'll get married and build a house right near the Burrow, and we'll all be a big, happy family together. You and I, and Ron and Hermione, we'll always be together. It will be so perfect. Soon, Ginny, soon."

Mentally, Ginny retreated from the sound of Harry's voice, not feeling capable of dealing with what he was saying.

She became conscious again later to the sound of a very different voice.

"What were you thinking, Ginny? You could have died out there! And why do I have to care, damn it? Why have you done this to me? Why must I continue to love you? Gods, I would tear my heart out with my bare hands to rid myself of you if I could! Merlin knows I've tried to get free of you. Why did you have to do this to me, Ginny? I loved you! I would have gone to the ends of the world for you, defied heaven and hell for you! I would have done anything you asked of me! I would have been with you always. And you - you gave me up for that shallow love of Potter's? Why, Ginny? Nothing could have ever separated us, but you did it of your own free will!"

It was a voice barely above a whisper, but the pain and rage in it tore through Ginny like the blade of a knife.

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'd love to read your suggestions/comments on this chapter.


Chapter 10 - Tarts and Confrontations


"Wake up, then! It's time you ate something, young lady."

Ginny grimaced as sunlight dazzled her barely open eyes, temporarily blinding her.

"Mum?" she said weakly, her throat dry.

"Humph! As if someone else was likely to take care of such an obviously dimwitted child as you!" Molly Weasley's hands none-too-gently tugged at Ginny's shoulders, forcing her into a sitting position.

"Oh, Mum, careful! Gods, I’m sore!"

A completely unsympathetic expression met Ginny's eyes. Mrs. Weasley placed a tray over her daughter's lap.

"Eat your chicken soup," the older woman said gruffly.

"Care to let me know what I've done to make you so angry?" Ginny asked, blowing on a spoonful of soup. She should have known better than to ask such a question, she realized upon seeing the way her mother’s face lit up. Too late now, she thought.

"What you've done? What you've done! Are you crazy? Do you realize you could have died out there in that weather, wearing nothing more than your pajamas? Out in the middle of London in a pair of slippers! Why, you didn't even cast a warming charm about yourself, let alone put on a winter cloak! I can't believe a child of mine doesn't have more sense than that! Ginevra Molly Weasley, what were you thinking?"

Ginny’s face fell. Oh, that.

"Mum, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just needed some fresh air, and I wasn't paying attention. Please don't be mad at me."

Mrs. Weasley's face softened.

"Oh, Ginny! You scared me so much! What could have possibly upset you so much you'd run out of the house in such a state in the middle of the night?"

Ginny had to think quickly.

"I - I was upset. I found out about the mission, and I was just so - so worried about everyone."

Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly at her daughter and then wrapped her in a big hug, nearly knocking over the bowl of soup.

"I understand, dearest. Of course you'd be upset, what with your family and Harry all in danger. But we're all okay, and there's nothing for you to worry about anymore."

Well now you’ve done it, Ginny. Lied to your own Mum. Perhaps you and Draco really are right for one another.

Mrs. Weasley pulled away from her daughter and looked fondly at her.

"I'm just so glad Draco found you," she said softly, stroking her daughter's cheek. Ginny felt a tingle of heat erupt in her stomach at the thought of those rough hands encircling her, those strong arms cradling her against his chest as he carried her unconscious form back to Grimmauld Place. But the mental image was quickly replaced by the sound of his whispered voice:

"I would tear my heart out with my bare hands to rid myself of you if I could! Merlin knows I've tried to get free of you. Why did you have to do this to me, Ginny?"

A pained expression crossed her face.

"What's wrong, Ginny?" her mother asked in alarm.

"Mum, I heard what happened to Malfoy's father. Is he okay?"

"Yes, poor boy. Draco has a heavy burden of sorrow to bear for someone so young. Manipulated all his life by that evil man, never shown proper love, and now responsible, even accidentally, for his death. He hasn't spoken of it, but I'm sure he blames himself." Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "And to make matters worse for him, his mother apparently had a mental breakdown when she learned of her husband's death, and is now at St. Mungo's. We can't let Draco go see her for fear of a Death Eater trap. He seems to care deeply for that woman, though I can't see how she deserves it."

"She's his mother - of course he cares for her," Ginny replied.

"Some mother," Mrs. Weasley replied with another humph. "Well, dear. Eat up, and then rest more. That's an order."

-----

Ginny shuffled her way down to the kitchen later that day. She couldn't take being cooped up in bed any longer, and with good reason. The sleep draught she'd been given had lasted for almost 30 hours, and Ginny felt stiff all over from lying in the same position for so long. She'd dutifully finished the soup her mother brought her and even managed to doze off for a short time afterwards, but upon waking up she felt hopelessly restless. So, with fingers crossed that her mother wouldn't be too upset, she stole out of bed and took a good, long shower, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles. Then she put on her most comfortable sweats and her red slippers and decided to take a turn about the house. The delicious scent of cinnamon and nutmeg drew her toward the kitchen.

Pushing through the door, she caught Harry red-handed.

"Oh, Ginny, it's just you," he said with a breath of relief, bringing a half-eaten apple tart out from behind his back. "I thought it might be your mum." He quickly moved to embrace his girlfriend in a tight hug.

"Hi, Harry," Ginny laughed, hugging him in return before moving to grab one of the still-warm tarts off of the counter for herself.


"Hey, are you supposed to be out of bed yet?"

"I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me."

"Deal," Harry laughed. "I'm glad to see you - I was worried."

"I'm really sorry, Harry. I don't know what I was thinking. Guess I'm just an idiot."

"You're not, Gin. Your mum told me you were upset about the lot of us going on that mission. I should have told you about it. I'm sorry. I'm - I'm going to make it up to you, I promise."

Ginny squeezed Harry's arm affectionately, and then looked down, deciding to broach a subject of much interest to her.

"Um, Harry . . . I kind of heard you talking to me when I was under that sleeping potion."

Harry reddened. "You did?"

Ginny nodded, an apologetic expression on her face. "Did you mean all of those things? About wanting to get married and live near the Burrow after the war?"

Harry's face wore a panicked expression, but he nodded his head once in affirmation.

It was Ginny's turn to blush. Harry wants to marry me, she thought with wonder.

"Oh, Harry, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Gin. Honestly. I mean, we're still really young yet. And who know if I'll even survive the war."

"Don't talk like that, Harry, of course you're going to survive the war," Ginny said with fierce tenderness in her voice. "And I - I do want to be with you." She hugged him quickly, burying her reddening face in his shoulder.

Harry swallowed audibly. "We'll be really happy, Ginny," he whispered solemnly.

"Harry? I know this is going to sound silly, but do you think we could live in London instead of near the Burrow?"

Harry frowned. "You don't want to stay close to your family? I always imagined us all living near one another."

"It's not that I don't care about my family, or don't want to see them frequently, it's just that I kind of imagined having a bit of space after graduation. Having the room to be a bit more independent."

"Oh," Harry said, still frowning. "Well, it's a long way off in any case. Plenty of time to discuss it then, right?" He managed a shaky smile, which Ginny returned. Both worked on their apple tarts in silence, leaning side by side against the counter.

Why does he care so much where we live? Ginny puzzled. There was something about that fact that Ginny found a bit strange, though she couldn’t determine why. I guess it doesn't really matter. Like Harry says, it's a long way off. There's a war going on, not to mention the fact that I have another year of school left after this one. Plenty of time to figure things out. Still, Ginny couldn't quite shake a vague feeling of unease.

Suddenly the kitchen door opened, and an irate Molly Weasley stood in it.

"Ah ha!" she said dramatically, pointing a finger at the two tart filchers. "Those are for dessert tonight! Shame on the both of you! And you, young lady, are supposed to be in bed! Now, march! Straight upstairs, and don't let me catch you again!" Mrs. Weasley stood aside to allow her daughter through the doorway.

Ginny hurried out of the kitchen, glad to have gotten away so easily. Her mother followed her up the stairs into the entrance hall, and watched as Ginny ascended the stairs toward the bedrooms.


"Straight to bed!" Mrs. Weasley called after her daughter's retreating form.

Ginny paused with her hand on the doorknob to her bedroom. She was glad she'd gotten a chance to talk to Harry, albeit briefly, but there was one more matter weighing on her heart. Slowly, she turned away from her bedroom door, and made her way down the hall.

This time she knocked, and after a moment, Draco opened the door a crack.

"Weasley," he said in surprise, pushing an errant blonde lock out of his eyes.

"We need to talk," Ginny said determinedly.

"I seriously doubt it," Draco drawled with a bored expression on his face.

"I could give a rat's ass what you think, Malfoy. Let me in or I swear to Circe I will make you regret it."

Draco smirked. "Calm down, Weasley. Mustn't get our knickers in a bunch. Come in and have your say if it means so much to you." He opened the door a bit wider and motioned Ginny inside.

She swept passed him and waited for him to shut the door and turn to face her before throwing him the dirtiest look she could muster.

"You are an insufferably arrogant bastard," she said. "The way you've treated me is inexcusable!"

Draco's impassive expression faltered for a moment.

"You're right, Weasley," he began. "My conduct the other night was beneath me and-"

"Beneath you!" Ginny thundered. "How dare you say I'm beneath you! I'm every bit your equal, no matter how much money you have! Is that why you're ashamed to love me?"

Draco made a sound of frustration. "Weasley, you are willfully misunderstanding me - wait, what did you say?"

"That's right, Malfoy. I heard your little speech the other night! Only a Malfoy could tell a girl he loves her and then insult her in the same breath!" Ginny crossed her arms triumphantly.

For a moment, a look of panic crossed Draco's face. It was gone so quickly, Ginny almost thought she'd imagined it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Weasley. Perhaps the cold addled your brain."

"You know damn well what I'm talking about! And I came here to tell you that I could care less whether you love me or not. I never asked you to! All you've done is hurt me, Draco Malfoy, since this whole mess started. And I'm through with it. You are the last man I ever wanted to be with! So you can take your scruples and your accusations and shove them!"

Strong emotions played over Draco's face as Ginny shouted at him - from rage to astonishment to what Ginny would have labeled hurt if she had seen it on any other face than Malfoy's.

"Don't you sound so self-righteous with me, Weasley!" he spat back when she finished her tirade. "As if you don't feel the exact same way. Tell me, when you found yourself in love with a Malfoy, were you glad of it? Did you rejoice at the thought? Were you eagerly looking forward to telling your family, your friends?"

The truth in his words stung her, but Ginny refused to back down.

"I'm not like that, Draco," she said hotly. "And the point's irrelevant - it's not like you ever gave me the chance to tell anyone. As soon as you got what you wanted out of me you cast me aside like garbage."

"I did you a favor, Weasley. You and I both know it's easier for you to hate me - it helps you sleep better at night."

"I think you are getting me confused with you - I've never hated you, and I still don’t."

Draco smiled almost maliciously, and took a step closer to Ginny.

"Because you love me, Ginny?" he asked with a hard glint in his steely eyes.

Ginny felt her cheeks burning under Draco's gaze. No! I won't let him win!

"I never loved you! I was just deluded! I've always loved Harry!" she shouted, her insides burning at the magnitude of her lie.

Draco laughed incredulously, but his eyes remained cold and focused on her.

"Tell me, Ginny," he asked in a deadly quiet voice. "Did you take your own advice?"

"What are you talking about?" Ginny faltered.

"You gave me advice that day you found me in the bathroom. You told me that there were easy choices and right choices. Did you make the right choice, Ginny? Or the easy one?"

Ginny's mouth dropped open, but no words came. Finally she whispered, "You don't know what you're talking about," before running out of the room.

She had gone into that discussion assured of putting Malfoy in his place, but somehow, he had made her feel like the worst person in the world.

-----

"Of course that's wonderful," Luna said doubtfully. "It's just that you're so young and -"

"Well, it wasn't a real proposal of course," Ginny interrupted impatiently. "Just a discussion of our future plans. I know we're too young."

"So Harry's it, then?"

"What do you mean? Who else would there be?"

Luna groaned. "Oh, I don't know, maybe that pale piece of man-candy you're really in love with?"

It was the first day back from the Christmas holiday, and, Ginny thought with an inward grimace, it didn't appear that Luna had given up on her Malfoy obsession.

That makes two of us, a small voice in the back of Ginny's mind said.

"Anyway," Ginny said loudly, completely ignoring her friend's comment and the voice in her head, "tell me how your hols were. Did Neville send you a Christmas gift?"

"As a matter of fact he did," Luna said, sounding surprised at Ginny's astuteness. “He sent a lovely necklace of brussel sprouts, charmed to always stay fresh. I'd wear it every day, but it's really more for formal occasions."

"Er, that sounds very . . . pretty."

"And you know," Luna lowered her voice to a whisper, "I think, based on the card he sent with the necklace, that he has, well, feelings for me."

"Really?" Ginny feigned surprise. "What did he write?"

"Not much, really. Just 'Luna, I have feelings for you.'"

Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "That sounds pretty definite. Did you reply?"

"No, I didn't. And I haven't seen him yet." Luna sounded worried.

"What are you going to say? Do you like him as well?"

Luna didn't have a chance to reply, for at that moment, the man in question approached their table in the back of the library.

"Uh, hello Neville," Ginny said quickly to gain her friend some time. “How was your Christmas?”

"Fine," Neville replied absently, looking anxiously at Luna. "Hello, Luna."

"Hello, Neville. Thank you for the necklace. It is lovely. I got your card as well."

"You did?" Neville asked with dread in his voice.

"Yes."

One minute Luna was standing shakily and approaching the near-fainting Neville, the next minute she had knocked him onto the table and the two were furiously, and rather awkwardly, snogging.

"Oh, my," said Ginny, quickly gathering her books and rising. "I'll just see you both at dinner then."

Neither seemed to hear her as she made a hasty retreat.

-----

Ron banged his head on the kitchen table in frustration.

"Please just repeat it for me? I'm feeling slow today," he said.

Hermione sighed. “Okay, there's seven total. One was Tom Riddle's diary - destroyed by Harry in our second year. Two was Salazar Slytherin's ring - destroyed by Dumbledore in the summer before our sixth year. Three, the locket - destroyed according to 'R.A.B.' or at least, soon to be destroyed as the note said. Fourth, Ravenclaw's bronze eagle statue - destroyed by us. Fifth, Hufflepuff’s cup - destroyed by us. That leaves sixth - the snake, that we're almost certain is a horcrux at this point. And seventh - the piece that still resides in Voldemort's body."

"So that means we can go after Vo- You-Know-Who now, then, right?"

"No, Ron, for the last time!" Hermione replied in exasperation. "We can't hunt down Voldemort until we are absolutely certain that we've taken care of all the other horcuxes. And as Harry's already said, he feels unsure about the locket."

"It's just that I swear I've seen it - and not just in the Pensieve. If I could only remember where . . . ." Harry said slowly.'
Draco sighed in annoyance. "I don't know who's dimmer, you Potter, or the Weasel-king there. At this rate the war will never be over."

As usual, the meeting broke into chaos as raucous insults began flying back and forth across the table.

Before Lupin and Arthur Weasley were able to reestablish order, a frantic figure rushed into the room.

At first glance it appeared to be Sylvia Rolyeard, a known, but rather insignificant Death Eater. Rapidly, the portly, sallow-faced, middle-aged witch morphed into Tonks, who gripped the sides of the table and bowed her head as she attempted to catch her breath.

"Hogwarts," she gasped.

Several of the people at the table rose in alarm.

"What is it, Tonks? What did you find out?" Shacklebolt boomed.

"They're going to attack the castle. In full force. Even Voldemort. They're going to kill as many students as they can."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Hermione, covering her gaping mouth with her hands.

"When Tonks?" asked Arthur urgently.

"Tonight," Tonks choked out.

A/N: Next chapter's the last, plus there'll be a short epilogue. I'll post them once the site is back up. Please don't kill me for this chapter . . . . Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 11 – We All Fall Down


She held her breathe, watching as he dove for the snitch.

"Go, Harry!" she shouted. It struck her suddenly that he was the only one chasing the flittering golden orb. There are always two Seekers in Quidditch, she thought, her brows furrowed in puzzlement. But no one on the team opposing them, players all dressed in silver and green, seemed to care that Harry was inches from winning the match.

How odd, Ginny thought, and then realized that she was sitting in the Great Hall, eating dinner.

"Mmmm, baked custard, my favorite," she said before pulling a ramekin full of the pale confection over to her. Her tablemates didn't acknowledge that she had spoken, however. Ginny looked up in surprise, and noticed that beside her sat Pansy Parkinson. On her left was Blaise Zabini.

"What the bloody hell?" Ginny exclaimed, dropping her spoon.

Still, no one responded. Ginny glanced around the table. I'm sitting in someone else's spot, she thought to herself. But who is missing? It felt to Ginny like there was a huge gaping hole lingering just outside her field of vision. Some puzzle piece that would make everything make sense.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" she shouted without knowing who she was calling to.

There was an ache, like her chest was constricting painfully against her internal organs. The hurt was going to kill her; she was going to die.

She sat up in bed, and felt a tear run down her cheek.

"Where are you?" she whispered, looking around the moonlit room.

Suddenly, what seemed like the most logical thought in the world struck her.

The Astronomy Tower.

Ginny woke up with a start, and felt the sweat beading on her forehead. It was a nightmare, but she couldn't remember what it was about.

Gods, it's hot in this room, she thought.

She threw off her covers and pulled open the curtains around her bed. Even after gulping down the glass of water that sat on her nightstand, she still felt like she was hyperventilating.

"I need air," she whispered, and then thought of the cool breezes most likely whipping past the Astronomy Tower. She pushed away her covers and climbed out of bed.

-----

It was freezing on the Astronomy Tower, and Ginny was glad she'd gotten dressed before leaving her room. Leaning against the stone battlement, she stared off across the lawn toward the Forbidden Forest. It was nights like this, when wisps of clouds drifted passed the moon and ghostly shadows danced across the lawn that Ginny felt frightened of the Forest. If you stared at it hard enough and long enough, it seemed like things were moving in it, coming out of it. The trees themselves seemed to creep forward.

Just a trick of the eyes, Ginny thought, blinking hard to wipe the image from her brain. She looked at the Forest again, but the effect didn't go away. Shapes darker than shadows slid out from beneath the canopy of trees and began gliding toward the castle.

"No," she said softly, a note of panic in her voice. "It can't be." But it was, and Ginny ran for the stairs.

She stopped at the first portrait she came to and shouted at the dozing witch to wake up.

"Death Eaters are attacking the castle! We have to wake everyone up!" The witch looked dazed for a moment, but then nodded and rushed off to the next painting. Soon the sounds of shouting were echoing down the stairs.

Ginny met Professor McGonagall, clad in a tartan robe, coming out of her office.

"Miss Weasley! What is the meaning of all this?" asked the headmistress.

"I saw them coming out of the Forest! Death Eaters are here!" McGonagall rushed over to the nearest window and peered out.

"Merlin save us," she murmured under her breath before turning back to Ginny. "Get back to Gryffindor Tower and wake everyone, Miss Weasley. Have them get their wands and then please escort them to the Great Hall. I'll have the other Houses alerted. Move quickly - there isn't much time."

"Yes, Professor," Ginny replied and ran back to Gryffindor. She went to Neville's dorm first and banged on the door until he opened it, staring at her groggily. Hurriedly she explained the situation, and Neville was already throwing on his trainers and grabbing his wand before she was half through.

"I'll wake the boys, you get the girls," he said determinedly.

"Right," Ginny replied, heading for the girl's dormitory. She knew she'd be able to rely on Neville.

Thirty half-clad, wide-eyed Gryffindors stood in the Common Room less than ten minutes later, and after Ginny and Neville did a head count, they all filed out toward the Great Hall. Ginny wasn't sure if they were all still sleepy, or if it was shock, but everyone stayed quiet. Ginny was relieved - if everyone had started panicking, she wasn't sure how she'd get them all to the Great Hall.

Professor Slughorn ushered them into the hall along with the Hufflepuffs who'd just arrived as well. Ginny glanced around the room. Half the professors were there, circulating among the students, whispering calming words to the few students in tears here and there around the room.

"Everyone, please," Professor McGonagall said, calling them to attention. She had a grim expression on her face, but her words rang through the hall. "It's true. At this moment, Death Eaters are making their way toward the castle. I've alerted the Ministry - we will have help shortly. It is imperative that you all remain here while we maintain the castle's defenses. Those of you in fifth year and above, I look to you to keep order here. Look after those younger than yourselves. If necessary, use the defensive charms you've learned in class. Together, we can survive this."

With that, she and the other faculty members made their way out of the room and Ginny heard them putting up wards around the doors to the Great Hall. She looked over at Neville, and Luna, who had joined them.

"Well?" she asked. Neville met her eyes and nodded. After a moment, so did Luna.

"Right," Ginny said, gripping her wand a bit tighter. "Through the Snogging Door, then?"

"Let's go," Luna replied.

The Snogging Door, a small arched entryway tucked into the far corner of the Great Hall, was so dubbed by the student body because it led to the rose gardens, was never locked and was notoriously unmonitored by faculty - thus making it the "gateway for action" during school dances. Ginny found it unlocked this time as well, and she, Neville, and Luna slipped out into the cold night.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" a voice called out from behind them. Ginny turned to find Orla Quirke, a fifth year Ravenclaw, Medwin Cadwallader, the massive Hufflepuff Chaser, and a few other students behind them.

"We're going out to help defend the castle - where else?" Ginny replied tersely.

"We want to fight, too," said Medwin, and the students with him nodded. Ginny shrugged in acquiescence.

"The more the merrier," Luna said with a smile, and Ginny sighed. This was going to be a disaster.

They crept toward the front entrance, staying well within the shadows of the castle walls. As the group rounded the corner, all hell broke loose. Shouts and the crackling sound of fired hexes filled the air as the massive group of Death Eaters engaged with the small band of teachers guarding Hogwarts' entrance. Without a moment's hesitation, Ginny hurled herself into the fray.

"Petrificus Totalis!" she shouted at the nearest Death Eater, causing the black-clad figure to topple backwards into the snow. The students with her began casting hexes as well.

For a moment, it looked like they might have turned the tide of battle as the Death Eaters, caught off guard by this attack from the left side of their ranks, were forced back. Only for a moment though. The Death Eaters quickly regrouped, breaking up into two units - one to continue the assault on the entrance and one to take care of the students. Ginny and her friends were suddenly facing a group of Death Eaters head on, and she found herself fighting for her life. With a heart-wrenching jolt, she heard someone shout "Avada Kedavra!' and saw Medwin Cadwallader, a boy she never even got to know, crumple to the ground nearby.

"Take cover in the rose garden!" she shouted as more students fell around her. Just then, the Death Eater coming towards her fell forward, hexed from behind. Ginny found herself face to face with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"They've gotten inside the castle and broken into the Great Hall! They're chasing down students all over the castle!" he boomed at her. "Gather as many of your friends as you can and get inside - we need help!" Ginny nodded once, relief washing over her. The Order had arrived, and that meant the fight was even now. The only students nearby were Neville and Luna. Every one else had already retreated, or worse.

"Neville! Luna! Death Eaters are through the front doors - let's go!"

They dodged passed the few wizards still dueling on the lawn and rushed into the entrance hall. Inside Hogwarts, Ginny was reminded of the muggle "funhouse" her father had taken her to when she was little. She could barely see through the smoke and the flickering lights as bodies rushed passed her and in front of her, and spells whizzed through the air. Ginny barely ducked in time as a hex flew over her head. It was chaos.

As Ginny made her way forward, she ran right into Ron.

"Ginny! What are you doing?" he spluttered. "Why aren't you up in your room where it's –"

"Lacarnum Inflamarae!" Ginny interrupted, pointing her wand over Ron's shoulder and watching as the Death Eater who was about to hex him fell to the ground and tried to put his burning robes out.

"Be careful, Ron. It's really dangerous out here!" she said with a small smirk, patting her brother on the shoulder. Before he could reply, she ran off after a couple of Death Eaters heading upstairs.

She caught up with them just as they were about to attack a first-year Hufflepuff who had ducked into the Transfiguration classroom and was cowering under a desk.

"Quirito Quiescum!" Ginny shouted at the nearest Death Eater, who immediately collapsed to the floor and began whimpering as he slipped into his worst nightmare.

"You!" the second Death Eater screamed, wheeling around to face Ginny. Ginny's stomach dropped as she recognized the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. The two women eyed each other warily for a moment, their wands poised at the ready.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you," Bellatrix said gleefully, and before Ginny had a chance to react, she shouted "Incarcerous!"

Rope cords coiled around Ginny's body and she fell backward against a desk. She noticed with a small bit of relief that the first-year who had been hiding under it had scurried out of the room.

"So how does it feel to have the tables turned, you little whore?" asked Bellatrix, removing her mask and grinning maliciously at Ginny.

Ginny glared at the dark-haired woman, but didn't respond.

"I do wonder what my nephew sees in you," said Bellatrix, stooping over Ginny to get a closer look. "All those freckles and that hideous hair! And Gods, you have brown eyes! How utterly common!" Bellatrix giggled.

"I wonder if he'd find you so pretty if I altered you a bit," she said thoughtfully. "I think you'd be much more attractive without your eyes!"

"Get away from her," a cold voice commanded from the doorway. Draco Malfoy entered the classroom.

"Draco!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "We do need to stop meeting like this! And I know just how to prevent it! Avada -"

"Protego!" Draco shouted, blocking her curse. Bellatrix began to laugh, and her nephew eyed her, bewildered.

"Oh, my stomach!" Bellatrix giggled. "This is too funny! I have to share my secret!"

"What are you talking about?" Draco demanded.

"Oh, really, this is hilarious! Right now, that Potter boy and our Dark Lord are engaging in a duel. But what that brat doesn't know is that he can't defeat the Dark Lord - it's impossible! Because of me!" Bellatrix reached into her robe and pulled out a large gold locket on a chain. "I helped my cousin Regulus steal this a long time ago. I wanted it so badly! But Regie, the sodding bastard, hid it from me! Well, of course I had to kill him. But I still couldn't find the Dark Lord's locket. Until, that is, I ran into some ratty, two-bit thief, who'd stolen it right out of the Black mansion! He wanted one galleon for it, can you imagine? He had no idea what it was, how important it was! But I knew. And thanks to me, the Dark Lord CAN NEVER DIE!" Bellatrix erupted into gleeful giggles again.

"Sectumsempra!" Draco shouted, but Bellatrix deflected the spell.

"Tut, tut, nephew. That wasn't very nice. You wouldn't want me to hurt your little girlfriend, would you?" Bellatrix stooped next to the bound Ginny and pointed her wand at Ginny's head. "One move and you'll be mopping her up off the floor," she sneered.

Draco froze, and Ginny could see every muscle in his body tense.

He cares, she thought wildly. He really cares about me!

"Aunt Bella," Draco said, his tone sugary sweet. "Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement. Surely you know that the moment you hurt Weasley, I'll kill you." A smile stretched across his lips that never reached his eyes.

"Avada Kedavra!" cried a voice that was neither Draco's nor Bellatrix's, and Neville strode into the room as Bellatrix fell to the floor.

"Neville!" cried Ginny. "Oh, Neville!"

"I've waited my whole life to do that," Neville said grimly before slumping to the ground and bursting into tears.

"Finite Incantatum, Draco whispered toward Ginny, who, freed finally from her bonds, rushed over and threw her arms around the sobbing boy.

"It's okay, Nev. She deserved it. You saved us. Shhhh," she said, as Neville rocked back and forth in her arms.

Just then, an explosion sounded from somewhere below them, and the entire room shook.

"Right," Draco said tersely, prying the gold locket from his aunt's stiffening fingers.

Ginny stood up, eyeing Draco warily.

"What are you doing?" she asked, feeling strangely panicked. She'd seen that necklace before; she just couldn't figure out where.

Draco's eyes met hers and held them.

"Draco?" she whimpered, fear gripping her.

Draco crossed the space between them and grabbed her roughly, pressing a hard kiss to her lips. Reluctantly, Ginny let go of him as he pulled away from her.

"It's a horcrux," Draco said hoarsely. "It can't be broken unless someone is wearing it, do you understand? When I put it on, I want you to open it and snap the two pieces apart."

"But why -"

"Ginny, you have to do this," Draco said, stroking her cheek. "It's for you, Gin," he whispered, slipping the locket over his head. For a moment, he stood there, looking at her with his whole soul in his eyes. The next moment, like a marionette with its strings suddenly cut, he crumpled to the floor.

"DRACO!" Ginny screamed, falling to her knees beside him. "No, no, no, no, no!" she cried, sobbing into his robes.

"Ginny!" cried Neville, kneeling beside her. "We have to do what he said! Break the horcrux now! Quickly, before it's too late!" Ginny didn't respond.

"Damn it!" Neville shouted, pushing Ginny aside and grabbing the locket, which was painfully hot to the touch. Quickly he pried it open, and a greenish-yellowish vapor poured out of it. With all his strength, Neville bent the two heart-shaped pieces back, snapping the locket apart at the hinge.

"Take it off him! Take it off him!" Ginny cried, her eyes fixed on Draco's still form. Neville complied, removing the chain from around Draco’s neck, but it had no effect. Draco lay there, his pale skin and white-blonde hair frozen in angelic perfection.

"We'll take him to the hospital wing," Neville murmured, squeezing Ginny's shoulder reassuringly. Luna had mentioned something about Ginny liking the Slytherin prince, but Neville had had no idea her feelings ran so deep.

With a flick of his wand, he levitated Draco's body, and quietly, they left the room.

-----

Ginny didn't see the rest of the battle, which was dying down by the time she and Neville brought Draco to Madame Pomfrey. She only dimly heard the shouts of joy as Voldemort was defeated and killed, and she was only vaguely aware of Harry being brought into the hospital wing and placed in the bed on her right.

There she sat, Draco on her left, Harry on her right. Both in comas, perhaps already beginning the journey toward death. It was funny, really. Ginny had imagined moments like this countless times, moments when either Draco or Harry became injured, and Ginny hovered over their hospital beds, crying over their prone bodies. In Ginny's fantasies, it was her tears falling on their cheeks, or her soft voice murmuring words of love that brought them back to life.

In reality, Ginny just sat there, numbly, her mind refusing to process any sort of coherent thought. She stared stupidly as her family gathered around Harry, her mother and Hermione in tears. She didn't respond when Bill knelt in front of her and asked her if she was okay. Did she look okay?

Ron and Hermione stayed with Harry, sitting on the other side of his bed. Hermione rested her head on Ron's shoulder and cried quietly. Ginny wished they'd both leave, but instead, they settled in and dozed off, their arms around each other. With the last ounce of strength she possessed, Ginny turned and faced Draco, who was lying in his bed, the shallow rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he was still alive. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

"Draco," she whispered. Please don't leave me. Please.

Towards morning, Harry began to stir, showing signs of returning to consciousness. Draco remained the same. Ginny found it ironic that finally, when she knew without a doubt who she really loved, it looked like she'd never get the chance to tell him.

"I'm sorry," she said in a low voice, taking care not to wake her brother or his girlfriend. "I'm sorry I messed everything up for us. I know I hurt you. I thought the whole time that it was you hurting me, but I understand now." She leaned forward and lightly grasped his hand. "You know, all those nights we were stuck out in the woods and we didn't have anything to eat, and we were dirty and sore, and scared, I thought I was in hell. I thought that was the worst life could get. You used to run your fingers through my hair before I fell asleep, and you had this spot beneath your shoulder that made the perfect pillow for my head. I know now that that was the closest I will ever get to heaven in this life. That week with you was it for me, Draco."

She moved closer to him. There it was, the soft spot just below his shoulder. Without another thought, Ginny pulled back his covers and climbed into the bed with him, wrapping around his unmoving form.

"I love you," she whispered, drifting off to sleep in his arms.

Chapter 12 – The Chosen One

“Ginny!”

“Mmmm?” A yawn. “Wha-?”

“Ginny, wake up!” Neville whispered urgently.

Ginny opened her eyes, confused.

“Neville? Where-?” And then it all came back. She was in Draco’s hospital bed. He was the warm, unmoving body at her side. It felt like her world had been sewn back together while she slept only to be ripped to shreds once more upon waking.

“Ginny, you have to move!” Neville whispered, clasping her hand and tugging gently. “Harry’s stirring, and your brother and Hermione are sitting right there!”

“Oh, Nev, what does it matter? Let them see me, I don’t care anymore,” Ginny replied, shaking her head slowly as she took in Draco’s pale skin and bloodless lips. He looked like one already dead.

“Please, Ginny. Do you really want Harry to find out this way? He’s just defeated the world’s greatest evil and saved us all, and he’s going to wake up to see his girlfriend in bed with a man he hates? That kind of thing’s not good for a man’s ego, Gin.”

Ginny nodded reluctantly and slid out of the bed. Standing with Neville between the two hospital beds she turned to look out the window and watched as the first sheen of sunlight warmed the frosty morning.

“Will he be okay?” she murmured, resting her head on Neville’s shoulder.

“He’s going to be fine, I think,” came a faint croak from behind them.

“Harry!” both Ginny and Neville exclaimed at the same time, waking Ron and Hermione in the process. Harry, awake and smiling weakly, was swarmed by his friends, all hugging him and crying over him. Ginny hung back.

“I’ll just go tell Madam Pomfrey you’re awake, then. And Mum and Dad – they’ll want to know,” she murmured, edging away from the bed while the others were distracted.

Ginny met her parents at the door and gave them the good news. Mrs. Weasley hugged Ginny before rushing in, dragging Arthur behind her. Ginny could hear her tear-filled shouts of “Oh, Harry!” as she left the hospital wing. She made her way back to Gryffindor Tower, noticing signs of the recent battle throughout the castle’s corridors: scorch marks on the stone walls, shredded paintings, piles of rubble, dark stains on the floor. Ginny shuddered as she thought of the bodies that must have already been removed.

“Dear girl, you’re safe!” the Fat Lady exclaimed as Ginny reached her portrait.

“I’m safe,” Ginny agreed dully. “Pink nail polish.”

“Goes so well with my complexion,” the Fat Lady murmured as she swung open.

Ignoring the shell-shocked, questioning faces of the other Gryffindors who had survived the night and were now congregated in the common room, Ginny wearily climbed the stairs to the girls’ dormitory and buried herself beneath her covers. She didn’t want to think about anything, and numbly sank into the oblivion of sleep.

-----

When Ginny woke up, the first thing she noticed was how dark the room was. She had slept the entire day away. She sighed.

“Finally,” spoke a voice from the side of her bed. Luna was perched on the wingback chair in the corner of the room, her knees drawn up to her chest. “I was wondering if you were planning on sleeping forever.”

“I wish I could,” Ginny replied. “How’s Harry? How’s . . . Draco? Is there any change?” Ginny tried not to let anxiety creep into her voice.

“Harry’s much better – he’s been asking about you, in fact. Neville told him you hadn’t slept at all, and were dead tired. But you know you have to talk to him, right?”

“Yes, I know. What about . . . ?”

“No change. I’m sorry, Ginny,” Luna said, her eyes downcast.

“Well, guess I should go check in, then,” Ginny replied with a falsely cheery note in her voice. She kept her chin up and mentally repeated “Gryffindors are brave” all the way down to the hospital wing in the hope that it would help. Despite this, her stomach still churned uncomfortably as she pushed open the door.

Harry was alone, sitting up in his bed and flipping through Quaffle, Bludger, Snitch when Ginny entered the Hospital wing; someone had drawn the curtain closed around Draco’s bed though, and Ginny could only see his dark outline through the thin, white fabric.

“Ginny,” Harry said, smiling brightly and laying the magazine aside.

“Hi, Harry,” Ginny replied. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, guess you were right. I made it through the war after all.”

Ginny squeezed his hand and smiled.

“Is everything okay, Gin?” Harry asked. “You disappeared so quickly after I woke up . . .”

“Oh, Harry, I don’t even know where to start,” Ginny said, tears forming in her eyes.

“What is it, Ginny?” Harry asked, his voice filled with alarm.

“Harry, I love you. I always will. But,” Ginny paused, trying to choose her words carefully. She didn’t want to hurt Harry; he didn’t deserve it. “But, Harry, I love you more like the way I love Charlie, or Ron . . .”

“Gin, what are you saying?”

“We’re family, Harry. No matter what happens, that’s what it is. We don’t have passion or romantic love between us because we’re too close. I will love you forever – so will everyone in the family because you are a part of it, but I don’t think it is more than that. I’m so sorry, Harry.” The tear that was threatening spilled down her cheek and Ginny hastily brushed it aside.

“You don’t want to marry me?” Harry asked, shock in his voice.

“Harry, I can’t! It wouldn’t be right!”

“Is there someone else?” Harry’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Ginny could feel herself reddening, but shook her head angrily. “Harry, that’s not the point! This is between you and me! I love you so much, I do, Harry. But I’m not in love with you, and I don’t believe you’re in love with me, either. Oh, Harry, being together means that both of us might miss out on real love, true love!”

“Why now, Ginny? What happened?”

“I – I guess I wasn’t sure. I mean, we’re supposed to be together, aren’t we? It seemed easier to just go with the flow, and I told myself – I almost had myself convinced – that what my Mum wants, and what Ron wants, what everybody wants, was what I wanted, too. And Harry” – Ginny’s voice dropped to just above a whisper – “I don’t want to lie to you. I – I did fall in love with someone else. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!”

Harry didn’t respond, and Ginny took a few ragged breaths, trying to get her crying under control.

“Who is it?” Harry said quietly, not looking at Ginny.

“Does it really matter, Harry? If it makes you feel better, it’s not anyone who’s likely to ever love me back, or make me happy, or-” Here Ginny glanced up at Draco’s curtained-off bed and burst into tears again.

Harry suddenly started laughing, and Ginny looked at him, alarmed.

“Harry? Are you all right?”

“I know, I know,” he said, his voice cracking slightly even as his shoulders shook with laughter. “This isn’t supposed to be funny. It’s just that we’re quite a pair, you know? The war’s finally over, everyone’s off celebrating, and here we are crying like it’s the end of the world.”

“Does that mean you don’t hate me?”

“No, Ginny. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. And you’re right – we don’t have a relationship like your brother and Hermione do. I see the way they look at each other and I wonder what’s wrong with me. Maybe it’s like you say, we’re not meant to be. It’s just . . . I always thought we’d all always be together. One great big family. Ron and Hermione, you and me, your parents, all your brothers . . . .”

“Harry, we always will be! That’s what I’m trying to say. You don’t need to be with me for that to happen! Gods, my Mum’s talking about adding a hand for you to the clock. That makes you family forever!”

Harry gave her a sad smile.

“Friends still?” Ginny asked hesitantly.

“Family,” Harry affirmed, squeezing Ginny’s hand. “I want you to be happy, Ginny, I really do. But fair warning – if this other bloke doesn’t treat you right, he’ll have me to answer to.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Ginny whispered, giving him a hug. Relief fluttered through her. “I guess I should let you rest, huh? I’ll come by and check on you in the morning, though.”

-----

Ginny managed to avoid her family for the rest of the evening, though she did come across Neville and Luna in the kitchens when she snuck in for a snack – she hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before and was starving. She explained to them that she had broken up with Harry while they ate roast beef sandwiches and sipped hot chocolate.

“It’s all going to work out, Ginny,” Luna said quietly, and Ginny nodded her head, wishing she could believe her.

Later, when all the castle was asleep, Ginny found herself still tossing and turning in her bed. That’s what you get for sleeping all day, I suppose, she thought. She couldn’t get Draco’s image out of her head.

Slipping out of bed and throwing her school robe around her, Ginny left Gryffindor Tower and made her way to the hospital wing. A candle burned in Madam Pomfrey’s office, but Ginny didn’t see her anywhere. Most of the beds were filled with sleeping students who had been injured in the battle, and Ginny paused for a moment to listen to the peaceful breathing that filled the room. Picking her way over to the far wall near the windows, Ginny saw that Harry had fallen asleep with his glasses on and his Quidditch magazine lying open in his lap.

“You’re going to be okay, Harry,” she whispered with a smile and carefully removed his glasses, placing them on the nightstand between his bed and Draco’s.

The curtain remained closed around Draco’s bed, and Ginny tentatively pulled it open and slipped inside. In the darkness surrounding her, she couldn’t see Draco, but she could hear the slow, shallow sound of his breathing. Using her hands to guide her, Ginny climbed into the bed beside him and laid her head on his bare chest.

“Goodnight, Draco,” she murmured, and it wasn’t long before she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

The loud, cheery voice of her mother woke her the next morning.

“Shit!” she exclaimed as she scrambled out of the bed. She could only imagine the row she would cause if her mum found her sleeping with random comatose men. Peaking out of the curtain, she saw Mrs. Weasley making her way across the room with a breakfast tray for Harry, who was still sleeping.

No getting out unseen, then. Well, here goes nothing.

Ginny boldly stepped through the curtains and greeted her mother.

“Ginny, what are you doing here so early?” Mrs. Weasley asked in surprise.

“Couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come down and check on Harry. I was just looking at, er, Malfoy.” Ginny was saved further explanation by Harry waking up and engrossing her mother’s attention. The three chatted for a bit, and Ginny was glad to see that Harry seemed to be recovering both his health and his spirits.

“Well, what’s this?” Mrs. Weasley asked, looking over at Draco’s bed. “Why are Draco’s curtains closed?”

“Oh, that,” Harry laughed. “Ron did it – said I shouldn’t have to stare at the Ferret while I’m recovering.”

Mrs. Weasley shook her head disapprovingly. “You boys and your feuds,” she said. “Draco played a very large role in winning this war, Harry. Surely you can forgive old arguments? He deserves a little sunshine just as much as everyone else.” She pulled the curtains open with one of her trademark “Humphs!”

“Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley said, pausing suddenly, “what is your robe doing on Draco’s bed?” She turned around with the garment in her hand.

“Oh, I – I must have set it down when I was looking at him. Thanks, Mum,” Ginny replied, taking her robe and hastily putting it on. Both Mrs. Weasley and Harry gave her puzzled looks. “Well, I should really go get a shower before breakfast. See you later, Mum, Harry.” Ginny turned tail and scurried out of the room.

-----

Despite Ginny’s close call, she continued to sneak into the hospital wing each night to curl up next to Draco and sleep. She needed to be near him, to feel his warmth against her skin – it was the small bit of comfort in her life. Madam Pomfrey sustained his life, but was unable to counteract whatever dark spell the locket had cast on him. He had not moved once since he fell.

Harry, on the other hand, improved rapidly. The force of the magic Voldemort used against him had drained his energy and left him unconscious after the final battle, but with rest and the constant fussing of Mrs. Weasley, Harry soon felt good as new and was released from the hospital wing.

Hogwarts, too, returned to normal. The families who had arrived to care for injured children, the Aurors, the Order members, the Ministry officials – all of them finally left and classes resumed once more. The rest of January was punctuated by news of stray Death Eaters being tracked down and arrested. Wizengamot court proceedings became the regular material for the front page of the Daily Prophet. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who could have returned to school, ended up being needed to testify frequently, and decided to continue their private tutoring with Lupin in order to remain in London.

Ginny wasn’t sorry to see them go. Ron didn’t take the news of her breakup with Harry very well. In fact, she began to think that breaking up with Harry had been easy in comparison to dealing with Ron’s reaction.

“How could you, Ginny? He’s perfect! He’s a hero! He’s-”

“Well if he’s so great, why don’t you date him, Ron, and leave me out of it!”

“Ginny!” Ron replied in a scandalized tone.

“Okay, that wasn’t fair,” Ginny conceded, “but Ron, this is my life and my decision! Harry is wonderful, probably better than I will ever deserve, but he isn’t right for me. I’m sorry this bothers you so much, but as my brother, I’d hope that you would at least try to understand and want me to do what makes me happy!”

But Ron was too thick for even this obvious guilt trip, and continued to alternate between badgering her to tell Harry she was “just joking,” and treating her like she had performed a Killing Curse on his fluffy pet bunny. After two days of it, Ginny was contemplating performing a Killing Curse on him. Or at least stuffing Canary Creams down his throat until he had a permanent squawk.

No, Ginny wasn’t sorry to see them go at all.

Exactly a month had passed since the final battle – a month of fake smiles, little appetite, and poorly done homework – when Ginny found out Draco would be leaving her, too. Madam Pomfrey, after tending to him for four weeks, had decided it was time to transfer him to St. Mungo’s, where he’d take up residence in the Permanent Spell Damage Ward. Ginny heard the news at dinner from Neville, who volunteered in the hospital wing.

“But it’s not permanent, right?” Ginny asked, looking at Neville for reassurance.

“Well, Ginny . . . it’s been a month, you know, and Madam Pomfrey’s tried everything she could think of. At St. Mungo’s, Malfoy will be treated by more experienced mediwitches. I’m sure they’ll figure out something.” Neville found himself offering words of comfort he didn’t really believe in – his parents were in that ward, after all. A month in a coma from dark magic was not something one usually recovered from, but he couldn’t tell Ginny that – not with her looking at him with such fear in her eyes.

“Right,” Ginny responded slowly. “That makes sense. It’s for the best, then, I suppose.”

Ginny allowed herself to be soothed by Neville’s explanation, but deep down, she knew what happened to witches and wizards in the Permanent Spell Damage Ward. It was a place for the hopeless, a place where people were forgotten by the rest of the world.

-----

“I promise I won’t forget about you,” Ginny whispered much later that night as she silently slipped into the hospital bed beside Draco. “I won’t be able to visit until term is over, but I can come every day this summer. I’m going to be working at Fred and George’s shop, and that’s right near St. Mungo’s. I’ll miss you so much though. I know how stupid that sounds, and I know you can’t hear me, but Draco, I love you. I will forever – for as long as I live. And for as long as I live, I’m going to stay with you. You’re it for me, you know.”

Ginny had made a habit of talking to Draco before she fell asleep each night. She would whisper to him about her day, tell him anything that came into her head, still clinging to the hope that maybe he would hear her voice and come back. And she had to admit, her relationship with comatose-Draco, while not as exciting or as passionate, was far less complicated than her relationship with conscious-Draco.

Sighing, Ginny reclined her head against Draco’s shoulder and slowly sunk into a troubled sleep.

“Pbbbbbt! Fffft! Fffft!”

Crookshanks has a hairball. Ewww.

Ginny sat up suddenly. She had been dreaming about Hermione’s cat for some odd reason, but something had awoken her. A gasping sound behind her made her whirl around.

“Draco?” she asked hesitantly.

“Gods, woman! You nearly suffocated me with that mop of hair of yours!” came a raspy voice from beside her.

“Draco?”

“Ginny.”

“You’re awake! You’re alive! Draco!” And Ginny fell upon him, raining kisses down upon every inch of his face. She was crying and laughing at the same time, and bordering very close upon complete hysteria.

“Ginny . . . can’t breathe,” Draco croaked, grasping her shoulders lightly.

“Oh gods, sorry!” Ginny replied, sitting up and blushing. “I thought you’d never wake up.”

“Never wake up? How long has it been then?”

“A month now. You were being transferred to St. Mungo’s in the morning.”

“A month?” Draco repeated with an unreadable expression on his face. He struggled into a sitting position. “But then why- what are you doing here?”

Ginny studied her hands, interlaced in her lap, intently. “I’ve been sneaking down here to sleep with you at night. I- I wanted to be near you.”

“Ginny,” Draco said, reaching out to touch her chin lightly, “look at me. About that night . . . about the kiss-“

“No!” Ginny interrupted. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare push me away again! Look, I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. It was complicated for me, though! I’ve loved Harry for as long as I can remember – I loved him before I even met him, for Merlin’s sake! And you, it was what, a week? A week with you and my whole life changes! Of course I didn’t trust it, of course I was confused! You expect me to be sure of everything all at once, but I’m not perfect! I made a mistake. Harry kissed me, and I swear to you, I was pulling away, I was going to tell him, but you picked that moment to walk in and see us. You never gave me a chance to explain, no! Instead you just pushed me away. Yes, I went back to Harry. You gave me no choice! I wanted to be with you. One word from you, one look, and I would have come running back, begging you to forgive me. Well, I’ve had it, now! I know you damn well love me, Draco Malfoy, and I’m not letting you go again! You’re stuck with me!”

“You’re right, Ginny. I didn’t give you a chance to explain. What was there to explain? I won’t be your dirty little secret, Ginny! And I won’t play second-best to Potter!”

“You are not my secret. I’ll tell everyone – I don’t care anymore. And as far as Harry goes, I broke up with him as soon he regained consciousness after the final battle.”

“You dumped Potter right after he saved the whole wizarding world, when he was still recovering from battling Voldemort? That’s harsh, Gin.” A small smirk was forming at the corners of Draco’s mouth.

“I’m not proud of my timing,” Ginny replied with a huff. “But I couldn’t lie to him. I had to tell him I was in love with somebody else.”

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment.

“I never asked for you to come into my life,” he said finally. “After that day in the bathroom, it was like I couldn’t get your voice out of my head. Ironic that my conscience would be a Weasley. And when I opened my eyes and saw you in that dungeon, my first thought was that you were an angel. Sure, I was slightly delusional from lack of food, but there you go. You looked like salvation, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted it. I was afraid at first to let you touch me. Afraid you’d burn right into my skin like a brand, a kind of Dark Mark. But gods, how I wanted to kiss you. I knew, from that moment I did kiss you that I loved you.”

He took Ginny’s hand in his.

“I’ve spent a lot of time trying to forget about you. After I saw you with Potter, I thought I hated you. I avoided you, ignored you all summer, but I couldn’t make the you in my head go away.

“You went back to school and I thought finally I’d be able to forget about you. I just couldn’t do it, though. Everything reminded me of you. When Potter mentioned that Halloween dance, I thought I’d sneak in and see you one last time. I thought I could get some closure, put you behind me for good. But holding you in my arms again, kissing you – it was too much. I almost . . . I almost told you who it was. I had this feeling you knew already. I was going to confess, tell you I loved you more than life itself, beg you to come back to me – in short, make a total fool of myself. Thank you for saving me from that. You calling me by Potter’s name made me realize, more than anything else, that I was deluding myself, and wasting my time. You had made your choice, and even if I thought you were a damned hypocrite, taking the easy way out, there was nothing I could do about it.” He smirked.

“But I certainly could still hurt you, couldn’t I? You barged in that night I killed my father, and you were finally ready to save me. You were going to convince me that it wasn’t my fault, that I was a good man deep down – all that rubbish. I couldn’t let you do it, do you understand? I couldn’t let you get to me again, not after I’d convinced myself I didn’t need you! I’m not proud of hurting you that way, but I was trying to save myself. I heard you leave the house and after you didn’t come back, I got worried. Gods, Ginny,” – his voice sounded slightly choked – “I thought you were dead when I saw you on that park bench. I thought I had killed you. Just the thought of being in this world . . . without you in it-” He paused, and Ginny noticed the wet gleam in his eyes. She reached her hand out to stroke his cheek, but he caught it with his own and pushed it away.

“What else is there to say? I thought the necklace would kill me. I allowed myself the indulgence of one last kiss . . . .”

“And that’s it, then?” Ginny demanded.

“I don’t need your pity, Ginny.”

Ginny wanted to slap him. The fear of sending him back into his coma was the only thing that restrained her.

“I don’t pity you, Draco. I love you. I love you, you bloody, fucking moron! How many times do I have to tell you? What do I have to do to make you realize it?! Why are you such a-”

Ginny didn’t have the chance to call Draco whatever nasty name she had been thinking because at that moment he pulled her to him in a hard, searing kiss. Ginny felt herself melting against him as she returned the kiss with all the fire within her, trying desperately to convey how much she madly, deeply loved him.

“You know you’re bloody impossible, right?” Draco asked, finally breaking the kiss. “And incredibly stubborn.”

It was Ginny’s turn to smirk at him.

“Ginny,” Draco continued, becoming serious, “if you choose this, I won’t let you go easily again. That’s a mistake I’ll only make once. You’ll be mine now.”

“And you’ll be mine,” Ginny replied with a smile.

“And you’re not allowed to go within ten feet of that ponce, Potter.”

“We’ll see. Any other demands?”

Draco was silent for a moment, and then a smile spread across his face.

“After we’re married, I’ll need to be shagged twice daily, perhaps more on the weekends.”

Ginny promptly pulled the pillow out from under him and hit him over the head with it.

“What? Not enough? All right, three times daily. You drive a hard bargain, witch.”

“Why don’t we negotiate the terms of our relationship tomorrow?” she asked, smiling.

-----

Later that night . . . .

“Woman! You’re hogging the covers!”

“You know, Draco, you were a lot easier to sleep with when you were unconscious,” came the groggy reply.

“Was that a threat?”

“No, that wasn’t a threat. . . yet.”

Silence.

“I love you, Ginny.”

“I love you, too, Draco.”

 

 

Epilogue

Three years later . . . .

“Ginny, you can’t be serious! I am not wearing this thing!” Draco shouted from the bathroom in their hotel suite.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Ginny shouted back.

“I look like a bloody poofter, that’s what’s wrong with it!”

“Oh, you do not! Just get your arse out here!”

“What kind of fantasy is this, anyway? We should have gone with mine – at least I wouldn’t have dressed you in some poncy get-up.”

“That’s because your fantasy involves complete nudity, the center of a Quidditch pitch, and a large number of spectators, and I’ve told you already – I’ll think about it! Now come out! If you can survive the reception, you can survive this!”

Draco mumbled something incoherent through the door.

“What was that, darling?” Ginny asked in her sweetest voice.

“I said I barely survived the reception,” came the huffy reply.

“Oh, Draco, I told you, hexing you repeatedly is just my brothers’ way of showing affection! You’ve really been accepted into the family now. And besides, you sound like a Hufflepuff – the Slytherin I know and love would have gone for revenge, not whined about it.”

Ginny heard a faint chuckle from the bathroom.

“Draco . . . what did you do?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll get plenty of owls about it tomorrow – wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.” He chuckled again. “But back to this fantasy of yours,” he drawled, finally opening the bathroom door and striding out, “I’ll wear the outfit, but I’m not sure swords are really appropriate to the bed-” He stopped suddenly upon seeing his scantily-clad wife.

“Gin, are you tied to the bedpost?”

“I am,” Ginny replied with a cheeky grin. “But Draco, you’re talking to my chest. My face is a bit higher up.”

“They’re just so . . . .” There was a hint of wonder in Draco’s voice.

“Yes, quite large. The charm will wear off in a couple of hours though, so you better get over here already.” Ginny took in her husband’s appearance: tight dragonskin pants, a billowy silk shirt open to reveal his well-muscled chest, a black scarf tied securely around his head. Gods, he was hot. And he was all hers.

“Ravish me, you dread pirate, you,” she said huskily.

“Yes, my lady,” Draco replied, a wolfish grin spreading over his face.

-----

“Bloody honeymooners! A chap can’t get any sleep with these kids frolicking all night, and this was supposed to be such a nice quiet vacation for us!” said a grizzled old man in the next room. His wife looked at him and sighed.

“Don’t say it, Louisa-love. I know I shouldn’t begrudge them their youth. We used to be quite frisky ourselves back in the day, eh?” He chuckled. “But dog’s bollocks! It sounds like they’re staging a battle in there, not-”

His tirade was interrupted by Louisa planting a firm kiss on his lips.

“Oooh, Louisa . . . why you randy old she-goat, you . . . .”

--Finis--

Final note: Just wrong, I know! But don't you want to fill out that pretty text box anyway? ;)