Draco followed his former Professor, numb. Not from the cold, although the weather was unseasonably chilly for June. Nor from the effort he had spent in running for five straight days and the resulting exhaustion in his legs. No, the numbness came from inside. He felt as though his life had no more purpose. He’d wasted the year. He’d failed. Draco had spent his entire sixth year at Hogwarts working toward one goal. Killing Dumbledore. And help to get his fellow Death Eaters into the school.

His fellow Death Eaters. Draco’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. He’d been so proud to join them. He was still proud to be one of them. But he’d failed utterly. They were unlikely to be his fellow anything before the week was out. Voldemort would kill him. First he would torture him, then he would kill him. Draco didn’t have a choice. But he was so numb inside that his prospects didn’t bother him like they once would have. Like they probably should have. No, Draco didn’t feel anything about his fate. He didn’t feel at all.

“We’re here.” Snape had stopped abruptly. “Inside, let’s go.” For the first time, Draco looked around and attempted to get his bearings. To his surprise, they were actually in a city. London, unless he was mistaken. Squinting, he could see a street name off in the distance. Grimmauld Place. Before he could discern more, Snape had hauled him inside by the collar.

Two weeks later, Draco still couldn’t believe what had happened to him. He, a Death Eater, son of Lucius Malfoy, one of the most loyal servants of the Dark Lord, was in the custody of the Order of the Phoenix. It had never been put in those terms, they were supposed to be hiding him. But Draco didn’t want to be there, and the house was a prison to him. He still wasn’t sure how Snape had convinced them to take him in. Draco certainly hadn’t said anything particularly repentant. He did his best not to talk to any of them, but if he had to, he kept his remarks as short and scathing as possible.

Fortunately, very few people were around the house at all. Even fewer bothered him. That was fine with Draco. He was still trying to figure out how to get out of the house. It seemed like every time he got anywhere near the door, one of them appeared out of nowhere with a cup of tea or something. Draco was fairly sure there was some sort of Alarm Spell that he hadn’t found yet. Of course, he didn’t get any time to examine the entryway, as they always pulled him away too quickly. He was forced to content himself with making plans for getting back to the Dark Lord after he got out.

Against his will, Draco was starting to learn some of their names. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to think of them in his mind as just ‘them.’ They’d become Tonks and Kingsley and Bill. Of course, he’d already known Lupin and Mad-Eye. And that horrible Muggle-lover, Arthur Weasley and his wife. Their even more horrendous offspring visited occasionally. The twins took particular delight in seeking Draco out and trying to get a rise out of him. They rarely succeeded. Draco kept himself bottled up so tight, he thought he might snap. Numb. His only thoughts were of getting out and redeeming himself in the Dark Lord’s eyes. Or getting the death he knew he deserved. Either option was preferable to his current state of affairs.

Then one day, Draco heard a new voice downstairs. A younger voice. A feminine voice. Almost unconsciously, he drifted down to the landing. It had been so long since Draco had seen a girl that her voice seemed almost like music, despite the fact that it was raised in obvious anger. At least, that’s how it seemed until he caught a glimpse of shimmering red hair and realized who the owner of the voice was. Ginny Weasley. Daughter of the one family that Draco truly despised. A blood-traitor. Someone completely unworthy of his time and attention. He was sure she was a spoiled brat anyway. Draco turned and flew back up the stairs, embarrassed to have been staring.

*****

Ginny was furious. Not only had three of her closest friends left on some insane quest to help Harry defeat Voldemort, without even saying a proper goodbye to her, but she had been forced to leave the Burrow and come live at Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer. Her prospects were dark. After the breakup with Harry, she had closed her emotions off. All except anger. And she was making sure that everyone knew how she felt.

“I hope you all know how insanely unfair this is I am just as bloody capable of taking care of myself as Ron, Hermione and Harry You let them go off on some damn...quest...or whatever they’re calling it, but I can’t even stay in my own house for the summer ”

“Ginevra Molly Weasley ” Her mother was seething. “Do not speak to me in that way. I’ve done nothing to deserve it Your father and the rest of the Order decided that this was best for you. Now take your trunk and get upstairs I don’t want to see you again until you can speak to me like the adult you claim to be.” Ginny flounced upstairs as best she could with a large trunk behind her, holding her righteous anger around her like a cloak. Dragging her trunk into her old room, she turned to flop on the bed and brood for the remainder of the day. Unfortunately, her bed was occupied.

“What the hell are you doing on my bed, Malfoy?” Ginny vaguely remembered some mention of Draco Malfoy in all the Order discussions she had overheard. She supposed that somewhere she had picked up the knowledge that he was staying at Grimmauld Place. It hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind, though, and seeing him lounging on her bed, casually reading a book, infuriated her to no end.

Malfoy was one of her least favorite people in the world, and she barely even knew him. He was smug, pretentious, and as everyone had found out at the end of the year, downright evil as well. Once, a friend had asked her why she judged him without getting to know him at all. Ginny had been surprised, because no Gryffindor ever ‘got to know’ a Slytherin. That was enough. On top of everything else, he was the son of Lucius Malfoy, the man who was largely responsible for the hell that had been her first year of school.

“I’m reading, Weasley, isn’t that obvious? Oh, I forgot, you didn’t have enough money to learn to read as a child. Tragic.” And with that, he dramatically licked his thumb and turned the page ostentatiously.

“This is my room, Malfoy. I know you probably think you own this place after being here for, what, two weeks, but you don’t. I’ve had a horrible day, and all I want to do is lie down on my bed.” Draco gave her a slow grin.

“Well, what’s stopping you, Weasley? I like company in my bed.” To her great embarrassment, Ginny blushed profusely. The fact that he had this effect on her only served to fuel her anger. She crossed her arms and fixed him with her worst glare, the one that could send her brothers running for their mother.

“Well, so do I, Malfoy. But not cowardly Death Eaters. So get out.” Ginny saw a fleeting look of shock and respect cross his face at the audacity of the first part of her response, but it turned quickly to rage and pain as she called him cowardly. She was surprised that she had that kind of power over him, and quite delighted at the knowledge. Malfoy had opened his mouth to say something to her, and she glanced over at him, a polite expectant look on her face. He closed his mouth, slammed his book shut and stormed past her, deliberately ramming into her shoulder as he passed. Ginny suppressed her grin. She felt better for having won the verbal sparring with Malfoy. In fact, she felt almost pleasant again.

*****

Draco tramped blindly up the stairs, not knowing or caring where he would end up. He only knew that he had to put as much distance between himself and Weasley as he could. He was mortified to have been bested by a Weasley, and a girl, no less. He couldn’t understand how she had known exactly what to say to break through the shell he had carefully built up around himself, and hurt him so much, and he was furious with himself for letting her, for showing weakness. He was a Malfoy. Malfoys weren’t weak. They didn’t feel.

Draco reached the top of the stairs, heaving for breath. Round one had gone to Weasley. Future rounds would not.

He was wrong. In the next three weeks, Draco and Ginny were thrown together more often than either of them would have liked, at meals and at random times throughout the day. They just seemed to gravitate to each other, despite the size of the old house. Draco was unpleasantly surprised to find out that Ginny was as good at the duels of words as he was, sometimes better. And after having found out his weak spot, she never even prodded it again. This worried Draco immensely. She had to be saving it up for something, but he didn’t know what, nor did he know what to do about it when it came.

He’d tried in vain to find the same sort of weakness in Ginny, but to no avail. He’d thought it would be Potter, and still thought it probably was, but whenever Draco mentioned him, Ginny’s face would simply shut down and she would make a casual remark about Harry having beat him at Quidditch, and that would be the end of the conversation. Draco had poked around a little, and knew that she and Harry were no longer a couple. He thought that she would be crushed and hurting, since she had been famous around school for her crush on Potter. As far as Draco could tell, Ginny wasn’t happy about the situation, but she was taking it in stride. No matter how he poked and prodded her, he just couldn’t find anything that would cause the kind of distress she had caused that first day.

Despite the new distraction, Draco was still doing his best to find a way out. Some careful eavesdropping had confirmed that there was indeed an Alarm Spell on the entryway, and that it applied only to himself and, at first, Ginny. It had given him great satisfaction to know that she was as much of a prisoner there as he was. However, it only took her a week to convince her parents that she wasn’t going anywhere, and therefore the spell was both unnecessary and demeaning. Try as he might, Draco just couldn’t figure out what the way around the spell was.

*****

In the next several weeks, Ginny enjoyed herself immensely, though she would never have admitted it to anyone, much less herself. Whenever she felt upset or angry about anything (usually when news of her friends came through or when she thought about her failed relationship with Harry), she sought out Malfoy, verbally assaulted him, and immediately felt better. It was, she mused one day while sitting in the library, better than any Pepper-Up potion she’d ever taken.

Ginny had learned, with her six brothers, how to deliver an insult properly, and how to avoid setting yourself up for one. And she was getting more practice with Draco than with all six of them combined. She supposed it was because it always distressed her a little to hurt her brothers, and she couldn’t have cared less what Draco thought of her. Either way, she was making the best of being cooped up in the house. Having someone else around was helping her to deal with the breakup with Harry. Additionally, the prospect of Bill and Fleur’s wedding in two short days was something to look forward to.

“Weasley. I see you’ve learned to read,” said Malfoy snidely, walking over to the shelves and scanning them. Ginny glanced up from her book.

“Yeah, aren’t you proud? I’ve been slaving over it for almost three weeks, and I think I’ve finally mastered it. Tell me, how long did it take you to learn, with all your expensive tutors?” Then, mimicking his own actions, she licked her thumb and delicately turned a page, giving a slightly bored yawn as she did so.

“Whatever. I just came to get a book, and then I’m leaving. Don’t want to spend any more time in your company than I have to. You might rub off on me.” He selected a book, stretching rather unnecessarily, in Ginny’s opinion.

“Oh dear. Actually having some morals would really hurt you with your crowd, wouldn’t they? Anyway, in two days, I’ll be off at Bill’s wedding for the weekend, so you won’t have to worry about my rubbing off on you.” Ginny avoided looking at him as she said this, so she missed the look of shock that crossed his face. She did see the look of delight that followed it, though. “I wouldn’t be so happy if I were you. I’m getting out of here. You’ll be stuck in this house with not even me for company.” Following her parting blow, Ginny rose from her chair and drifted lazily out of the room.

In the three days that Ginny was gone, Draco had run of the house. However, he wasn’t able to get any closer to escaping than before. He’d thought that no one would be in the house with him, but as it turned out, Mad-Eye Moody himself had volunteered to miss the wedding and stay with Draco in the house. He was horrible company, always going on about all the Death Eaters he’d put behind bars, his tone full of meaning as he eyed Draco with both his real and magical eyes.

Sitting in the library, his book almost untouched in his lap in a rare moment away from his guardian, Draco came to a startling realization. He missed Ginny. When the idea first came to him, he thought he was going insane. Then he thought that he must just be desperate for any human company other than Mad-Eye. But thinking about it more, he realized that that wasn’t true. He missed Ginny specifically. He missed her spirit and the gleeful, mischievous look in her green eyes when she was arguing with him. He missed her fiery hair and her slender frame. He just missed her presence.

Then he panicked. Somehow, his new relationship with Ginny (if it could be called that) had opened up a hole in his carefully closed emotions. He’d thought his heart was made of stone. He’d thought he couldn’t feel anything, especially not after what had happened with Dumbledore. He’d become even more emotionally closed off since then. Ginny had unwittingly cracked through his facade somehow, and forced him to feel. Draco was in way over his head, and didn’t have a clue what to do.

Fortunately, something happened to tear his thoughts away from the redhead for a moment. Quite simply, a house-elf Apparated into a corner of the library and looked around furtively. Seeing only Draco, the elf cracked a wide, toothless smile.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Draco, rudely and unoriginally.

“Young master Malfoy! Kreacher is delighted to see you! Kreacher will have to be punished most severely, but he is delighted anyway! Is it true that young master is trapped here? Does the young master wish to escape?”

“Trapped? Escape? How do you know everything about my situation? And who did you say you were?”

“I is Kreacher, sir. House-elf of the Potter boy. I is wishing to be the elf of your mother, Narcissa, who appreciates Kreacher, but as a cruel dying wish, my old master passed Kreacher to Harry Potter. I is overhearing lots of things at Hogwarts. I is not supposed to tell anyone, but I thinks I can help you without telling.” Draco’s mouth dropped open. This elf was here to help him escape! He was so excited he could hardly think straight, though he knew he’d need his wits about him to decipher the cryptic clues he was sure were about to come his way.

“What can you tell me, Kreacher?”

“No telling, young master. Only asking. Does the young master know why he is not getting to the front door?” Draco nodded.

“Alarm Spells.”

“And does the young master ever see spells being turned off?”

“No. Can you tell me how to do it?” Draco’s excitement was mounting.

“Keacher cannot. But think, young master. If you is never seeing them turned off, even when the only other person in the house is with you...” The elf trailed off and looked at him expectantly. When Draco didn’t respond, Kreacher sighed. “Doesn’t you think maybe the spells is turning off automatically? Does they ever go off when young master walks through with someone else and isn’t trying to get out? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Draco started to shout, then realized that that was the last thing he wanted to do, since it would bring Mad-Eye to him immediately. “Is it because they’re turning them off as they come to me? No? Because...because...they turn off when more than one person walks...” Now it was Draco’s turn to trail off. Of course! The spells turned off when they sensed another person walking through with him. That explained why only one person ever showed up to fetch him! “Do they only turn off for Order members?”

“Kreacher doesn’t know. Kreacher supposes that it is so.” The elf gave him a sly grin. “I isn’t able to stay any longer. I doesn’t want to get you into trouble. I hopes you can get out, and find a way to bring Kreacher back to the families he wants to serve!” And with a loud crack, Kreacher was gone, leaving Draco with more than enough to think about. The obvious solution was Ginny.

Could he use Ginny in that way, knowing what he felt about her? If he had known about this in the beginning, he would not have hesitated to exploit her in any way possible. But now, the thought of using her, of abusing any affection she might have for him, of gaining her trust for an ulterior motive, was reprehensible to him. Draco knew he couldn’t do it. He would have to find another way.

*****

Ginny slouched at a table in the corner, her hair tumbling down from the style that had taken hours to achieve, her once pristine gold robes now rumpled. The wedding was long over and the party was well underway. Fleur had insisted on having a big wedding, despite all the danger. Everyone had been apprehensive and antsy throughout the ceremony, but they were starting to relax under the influence of the music, dancing and alcohol.

Ginny, however, was upset and bored. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were back for the event and while they’d all had warm hellos for her, they’d ignored her since. It wasn't Ron and Hermione so much. They were too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to anyone, and she could understand that. She was happy for them. But Harry was studiously avoiding looking in her direction. It frustrated Ginny, because she’d understood his decision to break up with her, and had dealt with it on her own time. If Harry was still worried about it, well, that was his problem.

At first, she’d set out to show him how fine she was by being the life of the party. But with few people present who she cared to talk to, and her other ex, Dean Thomas carefully keeping his circle of friends away from her, that was difficult. Now she was sulking, though if asked, she would have tried to claim something else entirely. Without warning, a strange thought struck her – how nice it would be to have Malfoy there to argue with.

This was quite a shocking idea. She hadn’t realized how accustomed she become to his presence, or to how free she could be around him. Since she didn’t care what he thought of her, she did whatever she felt like when he was around. Insulting him gave her a pleasant rush, but just being around him was electrifying for her. He was such a stereotypical bad guy. Ginny found that she rather liked that.

Another horrifying thought came to her. Somewhere deep, deep down, she must have come to care about him a little, because even though she had it in her power to really, truly wound him, she always held back. She knew she would never call him a coward again.

On top of all these thoughts came the final, most unexpected one of all. She missed him. Ginny missed Draco. Missed his attitude, his lazy drawl, his silvery hair, even his smirk. She realized that she had somehow fallen in way over her head and had no idea what to do about it.

*****

Draco found himself both eagerly awaiting and dreading Ginny’s return. He was still unsure of his feelings towards her and didn’t want anything to show in his behavior. But at the same time, he had acknowledged to himself that he needed her around. Her presence was the only thing that made the hell that was Grimmauld Place bearable. In the time since Kreacher’s visit, he had gone back and forth, trying to determine if he could somehow use her to escape. Any questions about his initial decision were dismissed when her heard her come in.

He was careful not to be downstairs upon her arrival. It wouldn’t do for her to think he’d been waiting for her. He contented himself with a simple, “So you’re back already, Weasley?” as she walked by his room. She didn’t even dignify him with a response. Of course, this raised Draco’s ire, so he jumped up from his bed and followed her.

“Giving me the silent treatment, are you? Or did you forget how to talk, spending all that time with those oafs you call friends?” As insults went, it wasn’t much, Draco knew. Clearly Ginny did, too, because she simply raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘I’ve been gone for almost four days and that’s the best you can do?’ Then she continued to look at him quizzically, waiting for him to come up with something else. Anything else. He had nothing. After a moment, she turned and continued her unpacking, ignoring him completely. Draco decided that the easiest way to bother her would be to simply not leave, so he sat down on her bed and made himself comfortable. Sure enough, Ginny rounded on him almost immediately.

“Look, Malfoy, I don’t want to play games with you at the moment. If you have something else to say, then by all means, spit it out, otherwise, please get your evil Death Eater self out of my room.” It was the first time she’d ever said ‘please’ and Draco felt compelled to remark on it.

“My goodness! I think you may have picked up some manners over the weekend, Weasley! You just said ‘please!’ Should I say thank you now?”

“I’ll say thank you if you just get out of here. I spent all of the weekend being avoided by two of my ex-boyfriends and, much as I enjoy our time together, I don’t have the energy to deal with you just now.”

“Aww, are you sad, Weasley? Tough time with the exes? I bet you missed my annoying self if you had to deal with Potter and Thomas all weekend!” He saw Ginny stiffen, and felt his own heart speed up. Had she actually missed him? Was it possible? Before he could think of another thing to say to probe her feelings, Ginny spoke.

“And what about you, Malfoy? You spent a nice cosy weekend with Mad-Eye! I’m sure you missed my relatively tame nature, compared to his.” She fixed him with a sharp look, as though paying more attention than usual to his response. It was just the reaction Draco had been waiting for. At this point, he could almost read her like a book, and she was giving off all the right signals.

“Though I’d hardly call your nature tame, I did, as a matter of fact,” he said simply, without any inflection in his voice. Her reaction was most satisfactory. She was actually forced to sit down. There were several minutes of complete silence, and for awhile, Draco was afraid he’d miscalculated. He wasn’t sure what he would do if that were the case, but for the moment, the ball was in her court. After what seemed like forever, she spoke, in a voice so soft he had to strain to make out the words.

“I missed you, too.” Then she got up and left the room, without turning back.

*****

Ginny walked straight to the library, her sanctuary in the house. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She was sure that she had just given Draco enough ammunition for the rest of the summer. She cursed herself for being so stupid.

What had she been thinking? He was a Malfoy! Probably her greatest enemy in the world, aside from his own father, and Voldemort himself. He hated her. Everyone she knew hated him. That wasn’t ever going to change. She couldn’t imagine what Ron or the twins would say if they found out she had fallen for a Malfoy. Or Harry. And yet, she couldn’t help but think that her prejudices had tainted her opinions of him too much. She’d judged him before ever knowing him. Then she’d gotten to know him, only a little, and it had put her into a horrific nightmare. Utterly humiliated, she sank into her favorite chair, and let the tears flow.

“Crying over me, Weasley? You know that isn’t a flattering look for you. You’re turning quite blotchy.” Ginny hadn’t even heard him come in. But she needed an outlet for her emotions, and here he was.

“Insulting my looks. That’s original. Why aren’t you using all that lovely material I just provided you with? Short term memory loss got the better of you?”

“No, Weasley. I’m just trying to decide on the best course of action. I’m a quick thinker, but there are just so many options for humiliation here, I’m just not sure which to use.” Some inflection in his tone made Ginny more angry than she’d been with him in a long time. He was mocking her emotions, which was something they both usually avoided. For the first time, she found herself wanting to physically hurt him. Enough with the mental torture. Leaping from her chair, she flew at him, arms outstretched, ready to punch the first part of him she came in contact with. To her surprise, Draco leaned into her attack, and she found herself entwined with him, her arms around his neck, his around her torso. And then she was crushed to him as his mouth descended on hers.

The kiss was like everything else the pair had experienced together. Passionate and angry. Their tongues and teeth crashed together, and their hands were everywhere, tearing at the clothing separating them. It was the most intense kiss Ginny had ever experienced. A part of her never wanted it to stop, but reason took over. She couldn’t be kissing Draco Malfoy at all! And certainly not in the manner in which they were currently carrying on. With a bit of a struggle she pulled herself away, and slapped him.

*****

Draco stepped back, stunned. She’d slapped him! No one had ever slapped him before. It was certainly the last thing he’d expected from the situation. Ginny had retreated to an opposite corner of the room, breathing heavily, looking shocked, but not altogether unhappy.

“What was that for?” he asked, letting a little of the hurt into his voice.

“We can’t...do that! Do you have any idea what my family would do if they found out? Not to mention Hermione, or Harry! You’d be dead in less than three seconds flat.” Ginny was clearly panicked.

“I’m touched by your concern, but did it ever occur to you that I don’t care?” She paused.

“No. Not really. How can you not care what they think?” He saw that she was surprised. Of course, she hero-worshipped the Gryffindor trio.

“I never have. I know it’s harsh, but your friends mean nothing to me, Ginny. They already have plenty of reasons to want to kill me.” Draco felt quite melodramatic saying this, but he had to stay away from any other questions about his motives. The conversation with Kreacher flashed into his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. He didn’t care about escape just then.

“So I’m just another reason for them to hate you? Well, at least I know where I stand. Thank you for telling me now and not later.” Ginny spun on her heel and started for the door.

“Of course not. Do you have any idea what effect you have on me?” That wasn’t what Draco had meant to say. But it was out there, and he suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. Ginny paused in the doorway, slowly turning to face him again.

“No. But if it’s anything like the effect you have on me, I can probably imagine.” Draco heard the uncertainty in her tone, but also the invitation. He crossed the room to her in a few short strides, wrapped his arms around her again, and pressed her up against the door jam. Their second kiss was just as passionate as the first. But this time, it was clear that a truce had been reached. Neither was trying to cause pain, or to put all their hurt and anger into the kiss. It was full of the emotions they knew they felt for each other, but didn’t understand and were too scared to speak aloud, full of raw power. Draco felt like he was drowning in it, but he never wanted to come up for air.

The next few weeks were some of the happiest Ginny had experienced. Her relationship with Draco was nothing like her past ones. He didn’t treat her as though she were made of glass and would break if he pushed her too hard. He kissed her with passion, talked to her with passion, and argued with her with passion. It was exhilarating. The rush she had felt from fighting with him stayed with her through the whole day, intensified by his nearness.

They still fought. Ginny was doing everything in her power to convince Draco to change his opinions, and he was resisting with everything he had, while at the same time trying to make her understand his point of view. He’d tried to explain why he needed to get back to Voldemort, something about honor and loyalty. Ginny couldn’t understand wanting to go back to an almost certain death, but she suspected that he couldn’t understand her blood-traitor’s notions, and so they had to agree to disagree. That didn’t stop them from arguing, though. It was mystifying, but such an integral part of who they were together.

Ginny had learned that she and Draco were more alike than she could ever have guessed. They enjoyed similar books (whodunits and other mysteries which forced them to think), supported the same Quidditch team (Puddlemere United, though Ginny had a soft spot for Holyhead), played Wizard’s chess with the same vicious strategy (cold-blooded and calculating), and even liked the same candies (anything sour).

It was more than that, though. Their personalities were so similar it scared her. They had the same volatile temper and razor sharp wit along with it. They both held feelings inside as much as they could. Ginny had been naturally mistrustful since her encounter with the diary her first year, and Draco had been raised to never trust another person. Draco certainly was ambitious and cunning, and being around him brought those characteristics, dormant with her usual friends, out in Ginny, which terrified her most of all. Draco supposedly embodied everything she was supposed to dislike. How could she relate to him so easily? But they both found humor in strange situations, and, more than anything, enjoyed a good laugh, and it was this that got them through the first few weeks, when their differences threatened to rip their fragile bond apart.

Despite the challenges, Ginny felt like her life was in order again. She had looked past the prejudices that came with being a Weasley and a Gryffindor, and had succeeded in finding someone she was truly well-matched to.

*****

Draco was happy. In Ginny, he had found an equal. There were times that he found himself thinking about it, and scoffing. How could a Malfoy, the Prince of Slytherin, form any kind of bond with the Weasley girl, pride and joy of Gryffindor? Somehow, though, they’d done it. They were making it work every day, and it filled a void somewhere inside Draco that he’d hardly even known was there.

He realized that there was no way he could ask Ginny to help him escape now. She would hate him forever, and that was something he couldn’t bear. There were only two weeks left until she returned to Hogwarts. He would have to work something out after she was gone. Draco rationalized his decision to himself, thinking that if he’d been away from the Dark Lord this long, a few more weeks couldn’t hurt. He was most likely escaping to his death, anyway. Any time he had left with Ginny was priceless, especially considering that they had to sneak around to avoid the members of the Order floating through the house.

A nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him that he was going to hurt her, to shatter her, that he was leading her on, and he felt incredibly guilty for it. But he just didn’t see what else he could do. He’d been a coward, unable to complete the task set forth for him. Then, against his will, Snape had made him look an even bigger coward by hiding him. Draco needed to regain some shred of dignity, and the only way to do it was to return to the Dark Lord for whatever punishment he would receive. It would break Ginny’s heart. But that was the way it had to be.

Then something happened that took matters out of Draco’s hands. Harry, Ron, and Hermione showed up for a surprise visit. Draco and Ginny didn’t hear the three friends open the library door, being quite occupied, but even if they had, it was unlikely that either of them could have stopped the twin roars of rage from Ron and Harry, or the hexes that flew through the air a moment later.

*****

Ginny was distraught. Harry and Ron weren’t speaking to her, and Hermione, once she ascertained that Ginny had been a willing participant in the activities they had walked into, was using only monosyllables with her. She didn’t know where they had stashed Draco, and wanted desperately to go to him, but the three of them seemed to be standing guard over her, not letting her move from her seat on the library sofa.

“If you don’t let me go talk to him right this instant, I will Bat-Bogey hex you all until you see stars for weeks!” Ginny shouted, unable to contain her anger any longer. The silence in the room had been stifling, and it was refreshing to hear her voice shatter it to smithereens.

“Ginny, do you know who we are talking about here? Draco Malfoy! He’s vile, and evil!” Ron retorted. “How could you do this to me, and to Harry?” At this, Hermione snorted. Apparently it was an offense against her as well.

“I’ve done nothing to either of you! Harry relinquished any claim he might have had over me months ago, and while you may be my brother, you are not my father, and you have no control over my life! If I want to see Draco, I will. You cannot stop me! Besides, you’ve never tried to get to know him! I have, and I made my own choices!” Ron’s freckled face contorted with anger as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to decide what to say. Harry beat him to it.

“Ginny, he’s a Death Eater! He tried to kill Dumbledore!” Ginny could tell from his tone that Harry was clearly trying to reason with her, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Maybe so, but he didn’t, did he? He couldn’t!”

“Not for lack of trying, though.” Surprisingly, the words came not from Harry, but from the doorway. It was Draco.

*****

Draco hated himself for what he was about to do. He was going to hurt Ginny as much he possibly could. When he was gone, she was going to need these friends, imbeciles that they were, and he didn’t want her to estrange herself from them over him. He saw her jaw drop at his words, and felt a twinge. Closing off all emotion, as he’d been trained to do, he continued.

“I admit, I was having trouble with it. I’m sure everyone balks a little at their first murder. I would have done it if everyone hadn’t showed up when they did. They made me panic. I couldn’t perform in front of a crowd. Don’t look so surprised, Ginny. You should know me well enough by now.” He smirked, and leered at her. The trio jumped to her defense. Ginny sank back into the couch, shock, misunderstanding, and pain radiating from her. He steeled himself to finish it. “You know, Ginny, this had to end. I mean, it’s been great fun and all, you’re a sport, but seriously. You and me? You were a fool to misinterpret my intentions toward you. You do know that I only did what I did to gain your trust so you’d help me get out of here? I just want to get back to my Master, where I belong and you were the easiest asset.”

Draco couldn’t look at her white face, knowing what he was doing to her, so he stared at her friends instead, as if issuing a challenge. Harry, in particular, had a look of rage and violence on his face unlike any Draco had ever seen. He gave one more of his trademark smirks. They took the bait. Two hexes and a curse hit him almost simultaneously.

He woke up in his room, a Binding Hex holding him to the bed, his entire body aching as if on fire. No light came in from the windows, or from under the door, and the house was still. Then suddenly, the door opened.

*****

Hermione had taken an utterly shocked and devastated Ginny to her room, whispering condolences and rubbing her back soothingly. Harry and Ron were behind them, dragging Draco unceremoniously up the stairs. She was vaguely surprised that no one else had come to see what was going on, then remembered that the Order member on duty was Mundungus. He was probably passed out somewhere. After depositing Draco onto his bed and Binding him there, the boys joined Hermione and Ginny.

“Look, Gin, I’m–“ Ginny cut Harry off.

“Don’t apologize to me.” She knew her eyes were flashing furiously. “I knew what I was doing, and I guess I deserved what I got. That doesn’t mean you all had to treat me the way you did. I’m not a child. I can make my own decisions. You don’t need to protect me from them anymore. Now, I suppose one day I’ll thank you all for this, but at this moment in time, I despise you all and want you out of my room. Now.” Ginny wanted to give them even a fraction of the agony she was feeling. They certainly looked hurt enough as they filed out of the room. Instead of giving her satisfaction, she remembered Draco walking out of the room, radiating his own pain, and the thought cut into Ginny like a knife.

She cried. The tears came in great floods, her chest heaving. She hadn’t cried like that since her first year. Surprisingly, it helped. The sobs were cathartic, and she began to slowly relax. Ginny still felt his words like a dull ache, but she was calm. She knew that she had to talk to Draco, alone. Her friends brought out the worst in him, just as she was sure his would bring out the worst in her. Coming to this conclusion, serenity settled over her. She was perfectly collected as she slipped quietly from her room to his, in the practiced movements of one who had done it many times before.

The room was very dark, but she could just make out that he was Bound to the bed. Good. He would have to listen. She stepped over to the bed and sat on its end, gingerly. “Hello, Draco.” That was all she got out before the tears came back, running in torrents down her cheeks. Cursing inwardly at her weakness, she struggled to get herself under control. She was furious at herself for getting close enough to let him hurt her, and for forgetting, if only for those few weeks, that this was Draco Malfoy, Death Eater, not her perfect boyfriend.

“Ginny. Wait. Please just listen to me.” Ginny raised her tear-stained face to meet his eyes.

*****

Draco had known it was Ginny the moment she stepped into the room. He recognized her walk. He’d tried to muster his resolve, to hear her out. He planned to be as cruel to her as possible, to finish what he’d started. He thought he could do it, when she said hello to him. The plan flew out the window the second he saw the first tear glisten on her cheek. He couldn’t bear to emotionally torture her this way. When he was sure he had her attention, and she wasn’t going to slap him or interrupt him, he gathered his thoughts, and spoke.

“Ginny. I lied. I lied to hurt you and to protect you. I saw what you were willing to do for me, to give up for me, and I panicked. I couldn’t let you lose your closest friends for me. I may not like them, but you need them. We both knew that whatever it was we had couldn’t last. We knew it from the beginning. It wasn’t worth estranging yourself from them. I stopped it the only way I knew how. I’m sorry. So, so sorry. Please forgive me. Please,” he added, so softly he wasn’t even sure if she could hear it. He’d spoken his piece, and there was nothing else to do but wait. She took a few deep breaths, as if he’d almost knocked the wind out of her. Draco hated to put her through this. It was torture on them both.

“You lied to me? To everyone? Everything you said in there was a lie? How could you?” It wasn’t an accusation. She was pleading with him, trying to understand.

“It wasn’t all a lie. I do regret being unable to kill Dumbledore. I wanted to kill him. I’ve never kept that from you. And I did think, when you first got here, about using you to get out. I admit that I tried to think of a way to gain your trust, to use it to my advantage, when I first learned how to get by the Alarm Spell. You need to believe me that it was the last thing on my mind once I realized how much I cared for you. Please,” he said again, aware that he was begging her and that it should have been beneath him to do so. With Ginny, it didn’t matter.

He watched as Ginny pulled out her wand, whispering, “Finite incantatem.” Draco felt the ropes around his ankles and wrists evaporate, and sat up, reaching out for her. Ginny went willingly into his arms. “I believe you, Draco. I really do. Don’t say anything else. Not yet.” He held her, and stroked her hair, loving its satiny feel between his fingers, wishing the moment could last forever, knowing it couldn’t.

*****

Encircled in Draco’s arms, Ginny felt the tension melt out of her tired body. Even as she was comforted, though, a new pain was hovering there, as she knew what she was going to have to do. She steeled herself, and after a few moments, gently extracted herself.

“Draco. You were right about one thing back there, you know. You and me. We don’t fit. We won’t work. We knew it going in. We were willing to take the chance on us, total opposites that we were, knowing our different backgrounds. We were living in our own fantasy, though. The real world is here, and it doesn't like us. It’s got to end now. You know that, right? We have to stop.” Ginny was crying again, but this time she wasn’t embarrassed. As much as it hurt, she knew this was what she had to do. Draco had started to protest, but now seemed resigned, nodding his head. It gave Ginny the strength to continue.

“Okay. Get up. Where’s your wand? Do you want to bring anything with you? Extra clothes or anything? Where do you keep them?” It was her practical voice. She stood up and began rummaging about in the room, but she couldn’t find any spare robes or Muggle style clothing. Draco was still on the bed, gaping at her.

“What the hell are you doing, Ginny?”

“You said you want to rejoin Voldemort. Fine. At any rate, you can’t stay here. Harry and Ron, and Hermione too, I suppose, will want to have you thrown into Azkaban. Harry could get it done, you know. You’ve got to leave, Draco. You said that if you gained my trust, you could use me. Well, you have my trust. I’m going to help you get out. Now where is your wand?”

“I can’t let you do this, Ginny. They’ll kill you,” Draco cried, clearly stunned. Nonetheless, he picked up his wand almost reflexively.

“They won’t. They love me, no matter how angry they are right now. I’m a good liar. I can deny it. Are you ready? Come on,” she replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him out the door. Ginny felt him resist a little at first, but she was persistent, and eventually he came with her. They arrived in the entryway, and Ginny’s hand was almost crushed as Draco squeezed it apprehensively.

“Shh,” she murmured soothingly. “We’re fine. As long as I’m with you, the Alarm Spell won’t be triggered.” They crossed to the door swiftly, and Draco turned to her.

“Ginny. Do you have any idea what this means to me? That you’re willing to help me, even though you don’t agree with me? You are such an incredible, wonderful person. I hope you know that.” He pulled her to him, caressing her back gently. Ginny put her arms around his neck and smiled through her tears.

*****

“Thank you, Draco. It means a lot to hear you say that. Now stop talking and give me a proper goodbye.” Draco gladly complied. The kiss was bittersweet. Draco was putting everything he had into it. His love for Ginny, his anger at her stupid friends, his guilt at bringing her into this situation, his fear of what was coming. It made him feel like he was on fire, burning with emotion that he wasn’t supposed to feel. Not he, a Malfoy. Not for Ginny.

Ginny. She was giving everything that she got. He was more aware of her than he’d ever been. Her slim body was pressed up against him, one knee between his legs. Her arms were squeezing him so tightly that even if the kiss had allowed him to breathe, the pressure from her arms would have prevented it. Her fingers were tracing little circles on his neck, creating a haunting sensation which was so opposite from the pressure of her arms and mouth.

After what was probably too long for safety, he pulled away reluctantly. Ginny rested her head on his chest, and he could feel her shoulders shaking with suppressed tears. Draco knew she was trying to be strong for him. That was when the desire to tell her everything about his feelings became overwhelming.

“Before I go, Ginny, I need to tell you something. I need you to understand how I feel about you. You’re...everything to me. I feel happier, physically and mentally better when I’m around you. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and it happened when I thought I had closed myself off emotionally. Please, don’t forget about this summer. And please remember, no matter what happens to us, to you, to me, that I lo–“

“Don’t. Don’t say it. I don’t think I’m strong enough to hear it and still let you go. You mean too much to me, and I want to be selfish and keep you here. But I can’t. We both know it. So go. Now, before we get caught or one of us changes our minds.” Ginny’s voice broke several times in the speech, but she got through it. Draco knew that she was right. Kissing her one last time, swiftly but thoroughly, he turned and opened the door. He paused, halfway outside, with his hand on the knob. Pivoting to face her, Draco flashed Ginny a grim smile.

“I won’t say it. But I’m thinking it. I feel it. Don’t forget. Goodbye, Ginny.” Without waiting to see how she would respond, knowing it would hurt too much, Draco spun on his heel and ran out into the night. He never heard her whispered response as she stood in the open doorway with the tears finally released on her cheeks, shining in the light of the terrible knowledge that they would probably never see each other again.

“I love you, too. Goodbye, Draco.”