Chapter 1- Auditions

“I am your angel of music. Come to the angel of music.”

The voice captivated her and pulled her toward her phantom. Long tapered fingers reached for his face, slipped beneath the mask, and pulled. . .

“Ginny? Ginny!”

“Mmm. . . what?”

“Ginny, wake up! It’s the best news in the world!”

“Go away.”

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, you get up this instant!”

When her friend didn’t move, Hermione grinned and turned to leave the room. “Fine, I guess you’ll miss the auditions.”

Ginny came alive. Leaping from the bed and stumbling into the hallway, she caught Hermione’s arm and dragged her back into the dormitory.

“What auditions?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to know. Go back to sleep, it’s not a big deal.”

“Hermione Granger, if you don’t tell me right now-”

“It’s only the audition you’ve waited your whole life for. The Phantom of the Opera is coming to Hogwarts! And Patrick Wilson, the guy who played Raoul in the movie version, is coming to play Raoul here!”

Ginny stared at her friend with wide eyes. . .and stared. . .and stared. . .and-

“Ginny? Are you okay?” Hermione snapped her fingers in front of the younger girl’s eyes. “Ginny, focus.”

“The Phantom of the Opera. My whole life I’ve dreamed of seeing it, and now I’ll get to be in it. Oh, Hermione, this is wonderful!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not if you miss the auditions, it isn’t. Now come on, get dressed! I’ll meet you down there.”

---

“State your name.”

“Ginny Weasley.”

“What year are you in?”

“6th.”

“Alright Miss Weasley, if you were able to pick your part, who would you play?”

“Christine Daae, sir.”

The man made another little note on his paper while waving to the piano player.

“You’ll be auditioning on “Think of Me.” Do you know the song?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go ahead then.”

The opening bars for the song started and, as Ginny opened her mouth to sing, all thoughts of nervousness disappeared.

“Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye.

Remember me once in a while, please promise me you’ll try.

When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free

If you ever find a moment spare a thought for me."

Chapter 2- The Phantom of the Opera

“Too long you’ve wandered in winter far from my fathering gaze.”

“Wildly my mind beats against you yet my soul obeys.”

“I am your Angel of Music. Come to the Angel of Music.”


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“Hermione, I’m serious. It’s scaring me.”

“You’ve just been thinking too much about the musical, that’s all, Gin.”

“I was having them before it even started, before you woke me up to tell me about auditions yesterday.”

Hermione’s steps slowed, and her gaze flickered to her friend as they walked.

“Just how long have you been having these dreams?”

“For about the last month.”

“Before school started?”

“Yeah, and it’s always the same. It’s me and a Phantom. Every time I reach to pull his mask off, I wake up.”

Hermione sighed and kept walking, forcing Ginny to keep on as well. “I don’t know what to tell you, Gin. I guess it’s not a big deal, just tell me if something different happens.”

“Alright.”

The two rounded a corner and were confronted with a mob of people crowding outside Professor McGonagall’s office. Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff was standing near them, so Hermione questioned her.

“What’s going on, Hannah? What’s everyone standing here for?”

“Patrick’s just posted the cast list for ‘Phantom,’ and he’s handing out the scripts and music books. Oh gosh, he’s coming this way!”

Hannah hurriedly smoothed her hair and put on a winning smile. Patrick smiled slightly in return and skirted around her to reach Hermione and Ginny.

“Congratulations,” he said, handing them both rather thick scripts. “Your parts are hi-lighted.”

Hermione thanked him and cracked open her book as Patrick walked away. “I got Madame Giry,” she said, flipping through the pages slowly. “Who are you?”

Ginny opened her book and glanced at the front page. “I’m Christine.”

“You don’t sound very happy about it.”

“Oh, I am,” Ginny said quickly, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m just kind of worried about who the Phantom is going to be.”

“Let’s go look, then.” Hermione pushed her way through the already dispersing crowd and glanced at the list pinned to the bulletin board. She promptly turned on her heel and headed back down the hallway, attempting to drag Ginny with her.

“On second thought, who needs to know? Come on, we’ve only got an hour before lunch is over!” Hermione steered her friend toward the Great Hall, but Ginny pulled her arm away and headed back toward the bulletin board.

“Oh come on, Hermione, he can’t be that bad.”

The list read:

Raoul- Patrick Wilson
Christine Daae- Ginevra Weasley
Eric “The Phantom”- Draco Malfoy

“On second thought, maybe he can.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Draco and Ginny stood on opposite sides of the piano, listening mutely to Patrick explain what they were going to do at that rehearsal. Besides those three, the only people in the room were those in the pit (orchestra).

“Okay, I want to work through the title song tonight, so, Ginny, you’re going to start. It’s page 23 in your music books.”

The familiar organ and percussion opening began, and nothing but the music existed.

“In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came,

That voice which calls to me and speaks my name.

And do I dream again? For now I find

The Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind.”

Ginny’s clear soprano faded and Draco pushed off the piano to stand straight, his incredible tenor resounding in the stone room.

“Sing once again with me our strange duet;

My power over you grows stronger yet.

And though you turn from me to glance behind,

The Phantom of the Opera is there inside your mind.”

A single trumpet blasted above the rest for a momentary instrumental, then led the pit down into their first duet.

“Those who have seen your face draw back in fear.

I am the mask you wear, it’s me they hear.”

Two extraordinary voices blended together in perfect unison.

“Your spirit and my voice in one combined;

My spirit and your voice in one combined;

The Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind.

The Phantom of the Opera is here inside your mind.”

The song changed keys, and Draco’s voice rose above Ginny’s, resonating through the octaves.

“In all your fantasies, you always knew

that man and mystery were both in you.”

The second duet of the song flowed out, captivating in its glory.

“And in this labyrinth where night is blind,

And in this labyrinth where night is blind,

The Phantom of the Opera is here inside my mind.

The Phantom of the Opera is there inside your mind.

Sing, my angel of music!

He’s there the phantom of the opera."

Ginny’s voice climbed to the upper registers,
moving through triplets and jumps, and Draco’s hissed invitingly at her.

“Ah!

Sing, my angel of music!

Ah!

Sing my angel.

Ah!

Sing for me!

Ah!

Sing. . .

Ah!

Sing my angel.

Ah!

Sing for me!”

Ginny jumped to an E above high C and held it for 7 counts, the note ringing even after she’d cut off. The room stared at her for a few moments before bursting into applause; the songstress didn’t even notice. She’d recognized the voice of her Phantom, and her eyes were locked with his.

Chapter Three- The Music of the Night

Draco threw a longsuffering look in Patrick’s direction as the costume woman fiddled with the waistband of his black pants. The director shot a warning look back, but there was a hint of sympathy in it as well. Both men thought Mara took her job a little too seriously.

Oblivious to the men’s thoughts about her, the plump woman pulled a safety pin out of her mouth and stuck it into her fistful of fabric. “Alright, Draco, these will need to be taken in a bit at the waist, but it’s overall a pretty good fit.”

Draco just nodded at the frenzied costume lady and looked at the director.

“What do you think, Patrick?”

“It’s looks good, considering it’s just black pants and a white shirt. Mara, you should have him try the mask that goes with it.”

“Oh yes, of course,” the woman said, and promptly forgot to fetch it. She headed instead to the woman’s dressing room and knocked on the door. “How’s it coming in there?”

“Umm. . .it depends,” came the awkward reply from the other side. “I’ve got on the Phantom/Music of the Night dress. It’s kind of not even a whole dress.”

Mara frowned. “What do you mean? Does it fit correctly?”

“It’s. . .alright.” Ginny’s voice was strained.

“Why don’t you come out and let us have a look?” Patrick suggested.

There was no reply for a moment, then the door slowly opened and Ginny stepped out. Looking acutely uncomfortable, she pushed the door shut behind her and looked pleadingly at Patrick.

“Oh, my,” Mara exclaimed, making over the embarrassed girl. “Oh, honey, it looks just fabulous!”

“Now, I forget, what scene is this for?” Patrick’s voice was carefully neutral; he’d noted Ginny’s red cheeks, and this was not a stupid man.

“This is the dress she wears her first time down in the phantom’s lair.”

“Isn’t it a bit. . .,” Patrick paused to search for the right word, watching Ginny’s face turn from dull pink to bright cherry. “Provocative?”

“Oh, no, this scene takes place as Christine is changing out of the Think of Me dress. This was a shift, something to have on under the dresses in that period. It was never meant to be worn in public. This corset tightness gave women the hourglass figure that was all the rage,” Mara prattled, gesturing to Ginny’s partially exposed bosom. “The volume gave proper fullness to their skirts, and these long strips allowed for a few minutes of fun in a corner, if you get my drift.”

Ginny’s face flickered to scarlet, Draco snickered disturbingly, and Patrick roughly cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you go try the next costume, Gin?”

---

Seemingly ages later, Ginny sat in her slutty under dress again, watching Patrick and Mara spar over her costumes.

“The Think of Me and Point of No Return dresses are fine, but I’m still worried about the Phantom one.”

Mara’s voice took on that of an adult explaining something painfully simple to a small child who just wasn’t getting it. “Patrick, you don’t understand. Christine is a sheltered young woman and the Phantom is a testosterone-driven man. The Phantom of the Opera leads straight into The Music of the Night, which is where the seduction begins.”

Patrick stared at her for a moment, then sighed, shook his head in defeat, and gestured to Ginny and Draco.

“Get in your places. I want to see The Music of the Night.”

The pair scrambled to their places on the stage as the violins began their slow melody, and Draco began his alluring solo:

“Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.

Silently the senses abandon their defenses.”

Three violins continued the melody. Draco stepped close and slipped a hand under Ginny's chin, tilting her head to face him.

“Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender.

Turn your face away from the garish light of day,

Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light

And listen to the Music of the Night.”

Ginny’s eyes slipped closed as he turned her around and drew her into him. He wrapped his arms around her, and his chin rested, just for a moment, on the top of her head.

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams.

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before.

Close you eyes, let your spirit start to soar,

And you’ll live as you never lived before.”

Draco’s breath was hot on her cheek, and she moved her face toward that beautiful voice.

“Softly, deftly, music shall caress you,

Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you.

Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind

In this darkness that you know you cannot fight;

The darkness of the music of the night.”

The tempo of the song increased as more strings began to play. Draco walked swiftly away from Ginny across the stage, candles lighting magically behind him.

“Let your mind start a journey through a strange new
world.

Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before.

Let your soul take you where you long to be.

Only then can you belong to me.”

Ginny moved instinctively toward him, and her fingertips ran slowly, hesitantly down his chest.

“Floating, falling, sweet intoxication;

Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation.

Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in

To the power of the music that I write;

The power of the Music of the Night.”

Draco pulled back a curtain to reveal a perfect statue of Christine Daae. Ginny let herself go limp upon seeing it, and her heart leapt he lifted her easily in his arms. As he lay her down on a cushion, Draco’s voice floated gently through the last few bars of the song.

“You alone can make my song take flight.”

A black gossamer curtain fell in front of the sofa.

“Help me make the Music of the Night.”

Chapter 4- Confrontation

“It matches what Emmy wore in the movie, and Mara says it’s a period-correct costume.”

“I don’t care what she says, Patrick! I am not wearing this!”

Patrick ran a hand through his hair in exasperation as the dressing room door opened. Draco walked in, gray eyes flickering over the pair, taking in the scene. Patrick sighed and tossed Ginny a bathrobe, still talking.

“I don’t want you to, Gin, but the contract I signed doesn't allow me any control over the costumes beyond making sure they’re time-period correct.”

“Is all this over that costume, again?” Draco somehow managed a cold drawl and an overly warm gaze at the same time.

Ginny pulled the robe on over her under-dress in an exasperated fashion, knotting the tie firmly. “Yes, it is, not that it’s any of your business. Patrick, what if I just refuse to wear it? It’s not like she can force me into it.”

Patrick hesitated. “Actually, technically, she can. The contract you signed before you tried out gave her full control over your wardrobe.”

Ginny’s anger deflated, giving way to annoyance. “So there’s no way to get out of this." It was more of a statement than a question.

For some reason, Patrick’s eyes flickered to Draco before he spoke. “Well. . .in theory, no.” At Ginny’s interested look, he finished his thought. “Mara is rather enamored with Draco. I think if he asked her to change it, she’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Ginny stared at Patrick, humorlessly amused. “So, in other words, I’m doomed.”

---

Draco looked around the empty audition room, disdain evident in his raised eyebrows. “What is this, Weasley? You said Patrick wanted us here.”

Ginny looked to be pondering his statement as she closed the door behind her. “Did I? Hmm, I must have been delirious.”

“Out with it, Weaselette; I don’t have all day.”

Ginny shrugged. “Okay. I want your help.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I want it for.”

“You want me to tell Mara to switch your costume, right?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Not going to do it.”

Ginny stomped her foot in irritation. “Why not?”

Draco looked amused at her childish display of anger, but, surprisingly, didn’t comment on it. “Let me count the reasons: 1) I see no benefit in it for me. 2) You’re a Weasley, I’m a Malfoy. We don’t help each other. 3) I happen to like that costume.”

“Then you can wear it!” Draco turned to leave, and Ginny pleaded in desperation. “Please, Malfoy, I just need your help with this one thing.”

“No.”

“I am not wearing that skimpy little thing. I’m begging you, Draco, please!”

Draco lowered his eyes to the pretty redhead in front of him and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a longsuffering way. “Alright.”

Ginny’s beautiful smile bloomed, and her green eyes lit emerald. “Really?”

“If I must.”

Without thinking what she was doing, Ginny threw her arms around Draco’s neck and pressed her lips against his. When she pulled back, she was still squealing with delight.

“Thank you so much! Thank you thank you thank you thank-”

What she had just done suddenly dawned on Ginny, and she looked at the Malfoy in front of her.

“Merlin, did I really just. . ? Oh god. . .”

The expression on Draco’s face, or lack thereof, made Ginny more nervous than the thought of her action.

“Um, Draco? Aren’t you going to do something horrible?”

With a slight smirk, Draco gripped Ginny’s linked hands and lifted them over his head, removing them from around his neck. Before he could complete the move, however, the door to the practice room opened and the worst possible person stepped into the room.

He stood, watching the pair of them in horror, drawing his own conclusions from the scene: Ginny with her arms around Draco’s neck, inches from his face, and Draco with her hands in his, presumably pulling her closer. Wordlessly, the person spun on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ginny paled and jerked away from Draco, fleeing the practice room.

“Ron!” She yelled desperately as she scrambled after him. “Ron, wait!”`

The figure in front her didn’t slow or turn around, but Ginny was finally able to catch his arm and spin him to face her.

“Wait, please, it’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think? What am I supposed to think, walking into a dark room in a deserted corridor of the castle to find you about this far from a Malfoy?” Ron held his fingers about an inch apart, which Ginny found extremely unfair; it had been at least 2 inches.

“Ron, honestly, you’re just overreacting.”

“What’s he overreacting to?”

Harry and Hermione walked onto the scene, and Ginny could have screamed in frustration.

“Nothing, it’s just-”

“I found her alone with Malfoy, and they sure weren't exchanging insults!”

Ginny rolled her eyes and tried to amend the situation. “That’s not it at all, Ron’s got the story wrong-”

“She was with who?”

“Malfoy? Ginny, really!”

Harry and Hermione rounded on the younger girl, disapproving tones echoing her brother’s growls.

Ginny stamped her foot in frustration, trying to hold her temper in check. “No, you’ve got it all wrong!”

“Oh, stop denying it, Ginny! I know what I saw, and it wasn’t innocent.”

Ron turned on his heel and stormed away, followed closely by Harry and Hermione.

---

Patrick, being the perceptive man he was, knew the minute his cast walked in that something was wrong. Ginny’s face was blotchy and her eyes were red rimmed, but she looked angrily defiant at the same time. Ron’s face was contorted into a furious look, while Harry and Hermione tried only half-heartedly to calm him down. All three were shooting agitated glances at Ginny, who was sitting as far from them as possible.

Sighing, Patrick plopped his music book back down on top of the piano and stood.

“Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Harry- come with me. Oh, and Draco as well,” he added, catching the blond’s smirk. Patrick turned to the assistant director. “Jerry, run the rest of them through ‘Masquerade.’ It needs work.”

Patrick took the five into a dressing room along the side of the auditorium. Closing the door firmly behind him, he turned and faced the angry teenagers in front of him.

“Alright,” he said, sweeping his gaze from one face to another. “What’s going on?”

No one answered.

“Someone tell me. Now.”

Again, no one spoke.

“Guys, I’m not kidding here. Something’s happened between you all, and I need to know what it is.”

“It’s none of your bloody business,” Ron muttered, obviously not meaning to be heard.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Patrick snapped, his voice hardening, demanding respect. “And yes, it is my business. Anything that affects your work as actors and actresses is my business. Don’t even try to tell me it won’t,” he said, raising his hand to stop Hermione’s protest. “Trust me; I know what I’m talking about. Until you get whatever this is straightened out, your performances won’t be up to par and you know it.”

Silence reigned for the few moments before Hermione spoke. “What if we work it out by ourselves?” Patrick cocked an eyebrow at her, and she took that as a cue to continue. “I’m pretty sure certain people don’t want others to know what’s going on, so is it alright if we work through this without you?”

---

“Then what were you doing alone in that room with him?”

“Oh, honestly, Ron, grow up. I wanted to ask him in private if he’d get Mara to change my costume.”

“Why privately?” Ron crossed his arms, looking smug, obviously thinking he’d just proved his point.

“Because I didn’t know how much I would have to beg, alright? I think that would’ve been a little embarrassing in front of the entire Great Hall, don’t you?”

“Ginny,” Hermione broke in gently. “Ron’s only trying to look out for you, and do what’s best. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but he really means well.”

“Well, I don’t need his help, or yours for that matter! I’m a capable, intelligent young woman, and even if I was snogging Draco bloody Malfoy, it wouldn’t be any of your business!”

Ron looked stunned. “Ginny, I-”

“No, let me finish! I am so sick of you always telling me what to do and trying to run my life! I am not stupid, okay? I can take care of myself! Oh, and the way you always tell mum things- augh, that drives me bonkers! Just let me live my life, alright? I’m not a little girl anymore, so stop treating me like one!”

On her last words, Ginny squared her shoulders and left the room, followed, surprisingly, by Malfoy.

Chapter 5- Bat Bogeys and Howlers

Tears dripped down Ginny’s cheeks and fell into the lake, her face burning as she sang softly to herself. Her fingertips grazed the water’s surface, rippling her reflection. She sniffled and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to guard against both the cold and the loneliness. Shivers wracked her small frame, and she soon found she was sobbing.

“If I’m so glad I got that off my chest, why do I feel so horrible?”

“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

Ginny tilted her head back to watch Draco walk closer, not bothering to dry her face.

“Go away; I don’t need this right now.”

Instead of moving away, the somber Slytherin folded down onto the grass beside her and tossed his green velvet cloak over to her.

“I thought you might like some company.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

Draco was quiet for a few minutes, and Ginny thought he might take the hint and go away. He didn’t.

“You know. . .” he began, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Just because your brother and the twerps underestimate you doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

“Their opinions are what matter.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what can get me in trouble. If Ron or Hermione or Harry tells my mum that I’m a little slut. . .well, let’s just say it’s my word against theirs.”

“Don’t you get tired of being the good girl all the time?”

Ginny gave a dry, humorless laugh and lay back on the cold ground. “I can’t stand it. I hate being known as ‘Ron’s little sister’ and ‘that Weasley girl.’”

Draco opened his mouth to say something back, but footsteps crunching on the frosted grass made him stop.

“Ginny!”

The red head didn’t even turn around. “Go away, Harry.”

“No! You’re sitting with Draco Malfoy and wearing his cloak.”

“Very good, Harry. You’re incredibly observant.”

“He’s a Death Eater’s son, Ginny, probably a Death Eater himself.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Way to talk about him like he’s not here, Harry.”

“Quit changing the subject! Honestly, I don’t what’s gotten into you lately.”

Ginny snorted. “You never knew me in the first place, so I’m really not surprised by that. Go away.”

“No.”

“Now.”

“No.”

Ginny pulled out her wand and aimed it at Harry’s head. “Harry, I’m warning you-”

“Don’t you threaten me; it won’t work.”

“You’re about to volunteer to be target practice for a vanishing spell.”

Harry just crossed his arms across his chest.

Ginny stood and grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him away from Draco. “Harry, what the crap? We settled yesterday that my life is none of your business. I thought you got the point and wouldn’t try to look after me anymore.” Her voice was more disappointed than angry.

Harry looked slightly guilty. “I know, Gin. I just worry about you, having to work with him all the time. You’re like my little sister, and if anything happened to you. . .”

Ginny’s face softened, and the fire left her eyes. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

---

“GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY, I AM ASHAMED OF YOU! HOW DARE YOU CONSORT WITH A MALFOY? YOU STAY AWAY FROM HIM, DO YOU HEAR ME? OUR FAMILY HAS ENOUGH ON ITS PLATE WITHOUT US BEING CONNECTED WITH THAT SORT OF PEOPLE! YOU GET YOUR PRIORITIES IN ORDER, YOUNG LADY, OR I’LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME! Oh, and thank you Ron, for telling me about your sister’s horrible behavior.”

Ron was watching Ginny smugly from across the table, and she just burned to wipe that look of his face. Instead, she calmly scraped the last spoonful of porridge into her mouth as the Howler curled into ash.

“She’s really losing her touch, isn’t she? It’s not nearly as bad as that one she sent you in second year.”

She rose from the table and left the Great Hall, whispers and pointing following her up the marble staircase.

“She and Malfoy?”

---

Ginny sat absentmindedly at the piano and began sight-reading. The sheet music on the stand was relatively simple, and the melody line was easy to pick up. Within a few bars, Ginny recognized Andrew Lloyd Webber's Tell Me On a Sunday.

When she was about halfway through the song, the door to the practice room opened to admit Draco Malfoy, followed by Patrick. A thick silence fell as the two students stared at each other, and during which the musical director closed the door and nudged Draco further into the room.

“You said you wanted to talk to me,” the blond Slytherin said, his tone slightly accusatory.

“I do,” Patrick replied easily, pushing him into a chair right in front of the piano. “Both of you. You’re obviously not at ease with each other, and you have to be able to get along if this show is going to be any good.

Ginny rose from where the piano bench and folded herself into a chair, looking at Patrick suspiciously.

“So what are we doing?”

“You’re getting to know each other. I’m going to ask questions that you two are going to answer in complete honesty.”

Draco stood to leave and Patrick’s tone turned sharp.

“Take one step outside that door and you can turn in your script now.”

For a moment, Draco looked as though the loss of his part would be a small price to pay, but he sullenly returned to his seat.

Patrick nodded approvingly. “Good. Now, Ginny, you’re first. Why were you attracted to this musical?”

She shrugged. “I love music. I love everything to do with it. Christine Daae has always been my dream part, and I figured if I auditioned I could at least say I tried.”

“Why do you love music so much?”

Ginny’s brow furrowed. “I don’t really know how to describe it. Music is so beautiful, and it really touches people. So many emotions can be expressed through it, emotions that you wouldn’t want to just say outright.”

“Good, good. Draco?”

“What she said.”

Patrick sighed. “Alright, Draco, why don’t you like Ginny?”

Draco snorted with disdain. “She’s a blood traitor. She’s a pureblood witch with a lot of potential, but she insists on following the steps of that worthless father of hers.”

“Ginny, why do you dislike Draco?”

“He thinks he’s better than everyone else,” Ginny said, looking straight at Draco with her nose crinkled in disgust. “He’s a pureblood with a lot of potential, but he insists on following the steps of his worthless father.”

“Why do you consort with those that Draco deems 'unworthy'?”

“Why not? Determining a person’s value from the family they’re born into is just stupid, not to mention illogical. I mean, look at Hermione; she’s muggleborn, but the smartest witch in the entire school! So-called ‘birthright’ should have no significance in today’s culture.”

“Draco, why do you feel you’re better than everyone else?”

“Birthright. Despite the little Weaslette’s claims, lineage does matter. Why else would Slytherin accept only people of wizarding descent?”

“Because you’re a bunch of conceited prigs who-”

Patrick looked at her sharply, and she shut her mouth.

“Ginny, have you ever felt anything besides loathing for Draco?”

“No,” she said, a little too quickly.

“Remember, I want you to be completely honest.”

Ginny sighed heavily and obviously. “Well. . . yes, if you must know. He really is good-looking, and he can be nice when he tries to be.” Her face was glowing crimson, but she was looking at Draco with something akin to pity in her eyes.

“Draco?”

The Malfoy snorted, superb disdain on his face. “Anything but loathing? For the Weaslette? You’re off your rocker, Patrick, you really are.”

“Complete honesty, Draco.”

“I can hardly bring myself to tolerate her.”

Ginny calmly drew her wand and pointed it in her co-star’s direction. “Draco, do you remember that lovely Bat Bogey Hex that I excel at?”

She didn’t give him a chance to answer.

Chapter 6- Changes in the Cast

Draco was released from the hospital wing just after lunch had finished. Ginny was released from the deputy headmistress’s office just after the last class of the day. Needless to say, rehearsals were uncomfortable, at best:

“No, Ginny, you must spot! Your pirouettes are too sloppy, and you must get your leg higher into that passé. Hannah, why are you jumping around like a jackrabbit? That is supposed to be a developpe, not ‘lament of a dying deer.’ Padma, you are chasseing on the wrong foot!”

The girl playing Carlotta hit her final note of Hannibal, and Madame Zizi freaked out.

“The fouettes, girls, quickly! You are missing them! Spot, spot!”

The music ended and the old woman sighed and shook her head. “Mah, you will never learn. To dance you must move with the music, feel the emotion. You must stop constantly rearranging your costumes, fixing your hair, laughing at your mistakes; if you keep on like this you will never be good. I cannot take anymore of zis today. Patrick, I am leaving!”

The company stood and watched Madame Zizi sashay out of the room, muttering loudly. Ginny growled angrily and stalked off the stage, heading for the dressing room. She kicked open the door, already ripping at the fasteners of her costume, then stopped dead; Draco Malfoy sat just inside, frozen in the act of pulling on his shirt.

“Nice skirt, Weaslette.”

Ginny glanced down to see the hem of her skirt had become caught in the sequins at the top, pulling one side up to expose most of her thigh. Reddening, she pulled it free and flounced toward the girl’s side of the dressing room. Malfoy was too quick for her.

“What’s your hurry?”

“I want to change,” she replied, staring at the expanse of broad chest in front of her, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I think I owe you a little payback for yesterday, Weaslette.”

Ginny allowed herself a small grin at the way his face shone, thick with a layer of the salve prescribed by Madam Pomfrey. “I think you got exactly what you deserved.”

“I think this is quite an amusing scene.” Patrick raised an eyebrow as he shut the door behind him, quietly as he’d entered. Ginny realized just how they must look, she with her costume half unbuttoned, Draco with his shirt hanging open.

“Personally, I’d rather kill Draco at the moment then. . .whatever you think we were doing.”

Patrick pushed away from the doorframe and pulled Draco out of the doorway of the girl’s dressing room. “Yeah, I guess I can understand that.”

---

Patrick waved his arms for silence, and the Great Hall slowly quieted. When all attention was on him, he smiled and spoke.

“For those of you who don’t know, I’m Patrick Wilson. I’ve been directing the version of “The Phantom of the Opera” that we’re doing here at Hogwarts. Due to some unfortunate conflicts, I will be stepping down from the part of the Viscount De Chagny, AKA Raoul.

“This means,” he continued over the muttering that had broken out upon this announcement. “That tryouts will be held for a new member of the cast. If you’re interested, Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and I will be conducting auditions in the practice room at 2:00 this afternoon. Thank you.”

Patrick stepped down from the podium and the Great Hall at once became a buzz of chatter.

“Gin, why didn’t you tell me Patrick was stepping down?”

Ginny turned to face her friend with a dazed look on her face. “I didn’t know myself, Hermione, not until right this second. I wonder why he’s giving the part up.”

“I’m more interested in why he’s having you and Malfoy try to find the new Raoul,” said Harry, leaning across the table to hear the conversation.

Ginny shrugged and began spearing her green beans. “He probably just wants to get someone that we’ll work well with. I mean, can you imagine if the new Raoul was someone like. . .oh, I don’t know. . .Zacharias Smith? It’d be a nightmare!”

Across the hall, a few key Slytherins were discussing the same thing:

“Why do you think he’s making you spend more time with the little Weasel, Drakie-poo?”

Draco, choosing to pretend he hadn’t heard Pansy use her horrendous little nickname for him, shrugged. “I don’t know, Pansy, and I honestly don’t care. I’m just afraid those auditions are going to be dreadfully boring.”

A handsome, dark skinned boy leaned across the table. “I could come and liven things up for you, Draco.”

"Do it, Blaise." The youngest Malfoy came dangerously close to a smile with the smirk that spread across his face. “I’ll need something to keep me entertained.”

“But Blaisey,” whined Pansy, attempting to bring the focus back to her. “I thought you were going to spend today with me.”

Blaise didn’t look at the simpering girl in front of him, but his eyes grew wide with horror. “I’ll be there, Draco, no question.”

“Actually. . .” Draco’s voice trailed off into thought, but no one interrupted him. “Blaise, I’ve heard you sing; you’re not half bad. I bet we could get you into that part.”

Blaise leaned back in his chair, the characteristic Slytherin smirk plastered on his face. “Obviously, but to what purpose?”

“What do you think?”

Blaise’s smirk turned to an actual smile, albeit a somewhat nasty one. “To annoy the little Weaslette. Excellent.”

---

True to Ginny’s nightmares, Zacharias Smith did show up to audition, but was promptly shown the door when he began leering at the lead actress. He could be heard just outside the practice room, protesting loudly that he’d not been given a fair chance. Everyone ignored him.

The person after Zacharias was a scrawny little first year of a boy, obviously nervous, whose voice changed octaves every other note. Following him was a bulky seventh year Hufflepuff who had about the same range as Ginny. After him was a boy that no one recognized.

“Do you even go to this school?” Patrick finally asked, after he’d evaded all their other questions.

“No, I’m actually from Beauxbatons, but-”

Needless to say, the day wasn’t going very well. Ginny dropped her head onto her arms, groaning in frustration, Patrick was leaning his chair back on two legs with his eyes closed, and even Draco had fallen into a stupor, staring at nothing.

Thus, it was with relief that Draco saw Blaise Zabini saunter into the room, confident smirk in place. Patrick noticed Draco’s nod of acknowledgement and sat up straighter, feeling a bit hopeful. Ginny, on the other hand, groaned and slumped her shoulders a bit more.

“Oh, good grief, it’s just one thing after another! Go away, Zabini. I can’t handle anymore crap today.”

“Why, little Weaslette, I’m hurt by that,” said Blaise, a feigned look of pain marring his features. “I’ve had no thought in my mind but to serenade you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. Patrick, he’s not serious about trying out.”

“Neither is anyone else,” The director muttered, letting his chair fall back down to all fours. Aloud, he said “We might as well let him audition, Ginny. He’s the first one today who’s said something half-way decent to you.”

The red-head growled low in her throat, but sat back with her arms crossed across her chest. Patrick nodded and turned to the newcomer.

“Your name?”

“Blaise Zabini.”

“Do you know any of the music from the show?”

Blaise snorted. “I’ve had to listen to Draco sing in the shower every stinking day since rehearsals started. I practiced the end part of Prima Donna, if you want to hear that.”

“Yes, that would be fine.” Patrick went and sat behind the piano, flipping the sheet music around until he found the right page. “Ginny, if you will?”

With a huff, the red head stood from her chair and came to lean against the piano. She’d had to sing Carlotta’s part so many times today the song was beginning to sicken her.

Patrick started the music about 30 seconds before the end of the song and Blaise began to sing, leaning against the piano, the notes flowing effortlessly.

“Prima Donna the world is at your feet,

A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated.”

Ginny came in to finish out the song with Carlotta’s high-pitched melody, and Blaise’s harmony matched her note for note.

“Light up the stage with that age old rapport;

Sing, Prima Donna, once more!”

They held the last note for 17 quick counts, ending perfectly together. The flawless harmony rang in air even after Patrick had cut them off.

With a start, Ginny realized the three men were watching her. She gave each of them a stern look and, when they didn’t stop, threw up her hands in disgust. “Alright, so maybe he can sing!”

Chapter 7- All I Ask of You

By and large, at the end of the day Blaise Zabini had easily been the best. That defense didn’t help Ginny at all, though, when her brother saw the new cast list.

“Blaise Zabini? Holy crap, Ginny, you’re trapped between two Slytherins!”

“Captain Obvious called; he wants his cape back. And you never know, maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“Not so bad? Ginny, you’ll have to- bloody hell! Harry, she’ll have to make out with two Slytherins!”

“Lay off, Ron,” Harry said, surprising both Ginny and Hermione. “Ginny told me it was a unanimous vote.”

“This is a conspiracy, it can’t be- what did you say?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “He said it was a unanimous vote, Ron.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Hermione sighed and pushed Ron farther down the bench so she could sit by Ginny. “It means that they were all in agreement.”

“I know what unanimous means, Hermione! I just want to know what that has to do with all this.”

“It means I voted for Blaise, too, Ron,” Ginny said, attempting to make her brother see reason. “He was easily the best one, no competition.”

“He’s pretty easy on the eyes, too,” Parvati Patil put in, grinning at Ginny.

Ginny grinned right back. “Heck yes, he is.”

“He’s what?” Ron’s voice had dropped to a low growl.

“I said he’s hot, Ron, get over it!” Ginny stood up, unable to control her temper any longer. “Honestly, I thought you understood when I said I didn’t need to you to try to baby-sit me all the time.”

“Wonderful,” said a drawling voice from behind her. “If you’re finished with the dramatics, Weaslette, Patrick wants us in the practice room.”

“Now, Draco, is that any way to treat our favorite little redhead?” Blaise’s voice was very un-Slytherin-ly playful.

Ron glared at the two Slytherins, growling ominously.

“Bodyguards, Red?” Blaise raised his eyebrow at Ginny appraisingly. “I know this show could boost your career, but aren’t you jumping the gun a little?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and marched past her ‘bodyguard’ without another word, followed by a smirking Blaise; Draco, apparently, had already tired of the conversation and headed off on his own.

The pair walked toward the practice room in a somewhat awkward silence. Ginny had just decided to say something- she wasn’t sure what yet- when Blaise broke the quiet.

“Why do you put up with their over-protectiveness, love?”

She looked at him, unsure if he was talking about what she thought he was. “Excuse me?”

“Potty and the Weasel. You must get sick of them treating you like you’re made of glass. Doesn’t it get on your nerves?”

“I don’t mind Harry so much, just because he toned it down when I asked him to. Ron annoys the crap out of me.” A sudden revelation hit Ginny, and she looked at Blaise suspiciously. “Wait, why are you being civil to me? I thought a Weasley was, like, a Slytherin's arch-nemesis or something.”

Blaise looked at her sideways, a small smile playing on his lips. “Nah, that’d be Potter. Or maybe Granger, she has more brains than he does.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Ginny muttered without thinking.

“To be perfectly frank, I’m not sure why I like you.”

Ginny was stunned. “You like me?”

“Yeah, you seem like Slytherin material to me.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Hey, easy, it’s a compliment. I’m just saying that I think you would’ve made a great Slythie, that’s all.”

Ginny looked at him, incredulous. “Why?”

“Do you really want me to count the ways?”

“I don’t know. . .yes.”

“Isn’t this a cozy scene?” Draco’s drawling voice came from the door of the practice room. “I think I’m about to be sick.”

Patrick rolled his eyes and pushed the haughty blond out of the way. “Come on, guys, we need to get to work.”

As they moved into the doorway, Blaise lowered his lips to Ginny’s ears. “I’ll write it down for you.” With a wink, he pulled her in after him.

---

The din in the auditorium was deafening, as it was filled with every cast member right down to the extras. Patrick stepped up onto the stage and waved his hands for silence.

“As most of you have never heard our new Raoul sing, I thought I’d give you a little treat. Ginny and Blaise have been working on the scene that takes place between them on the rooftop, as this is the song that Raoul appears most in. Please give them your undivided attention as they perform All I Ask of You.”

Ginny and Blaise came onto the stage, swathed in cloaks, fake snow falling around them. Draco was partially hidden behind a statue. The familiar string-based beginning began, and Blaise’s sweet tenor effortlessly filled the room.

“No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyes fears;

I’m here, nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you.

Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears;

I’m here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.”

Ginny hugged herself, warding off the chills that fought to envelope her.

“All I ask is every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime.

Say you need me with you now and always;

Promise me that all that you say is true,

That’s all I ask of you.”

Blaise gently took her hands in his own and led her across the makeshift rooftop.

“Let me be your shelter, let me be your light;

You’re safe, no one will find you, your fears are far
behind you.”

Ginny raised one hand to lightly brush Blaise's cheek, her eyes pleading with him.

“All I want is freedom, a world with no more night;

And you, always beside me, to hold me and to hide me.”

Blaise turned her around and drew her into him, his voice soaring as the music built.

“Then say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime;

Let me lead you from your solitude.

Say you need me with you, here beside you,

Anywhere you go, let me go too,

Christine, that’s all I ask of you.”

Ginny twisted around in his arms to face him, singing louder as the dynamic of the song increased.

“All I ask for is one love, one lifetime;

Say the word and I will follow you.”

Grasping each other’s arms, Ginny and Blaise began their first duet.

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning.”

“Say you love me!”

“You know I do.”

“Love me, that’s all I ask of you.”

The music hit a climax, with 20 strings and 10 trumpets blasting out their part. Blaise drew Ginny into him and their lips met in a zealous kiss. He lifted her and spun her around; as she landed, her cloak whirled around them, catching the snowflakes as they fell.

“Anywhere you go, let me go too;”

The music suddenly quieted into a romantic ballad.

“Love me, that’s all I ask of you.”

Chapter 8- Ginny, the Slytherin?

True to his word, an owl arrived from Blaise early the next morning. Yawning, Ginny rolled over and pulled the piece of parchment off its leg. It read:

Reasons Why You’d Be a Good Slytherin

1. You’re a red-head. I like red-heads

2. You kissed Draco Malfoy

3. And flustered him enough that he didn’t sleep all night

4. You’re nothing like the other Gryffindors

5. You’re a pureblood (even though you ARE a blood traitor)

6. You can out-sing any girl I’ve ever heard

7. You’re hot. Hot people just can’t be allowed anywhere but Slytherin

8. You’re Christine Daae. Just think: if you were a Slytherin, then the three main parts would be held by the same house

9. You dumped Harry Potter

10. That majorly humiliated him

11. Which, in turn, granted we Slytherins great pleasure

12. You’ve finally grown a backbone in the last couple years

13. You’re a damn good kisser

14. Even on stage in front of 50 people

15. You actually read this whole list

16. You’re meeting me for breakfast this morning

17. How’s 8 sound?

Ginny suddenly realized why the owl had just been standing there all this time. She rummaged around in her bag for a quill and scrawled ‘Make it 8:30’ on the bottom of the parchment. She was about to send the whole thing back to him, but was suddenly overcome by a great desire to keep the list. Ripping off only the bottom portion, she gave that back to the owl and watched as it flew off.

She glanced at her clock and saw 7:30. With a groan, Ginny rolled out of bed and headed for the showers. He had better appreciate this.

---

Ginny walked into the Great Hall still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hair hanging damp around her shoulders. Blaise was already sitting there, looking far too awake for this early, in Ginny’s opinion. He spotted her and patted the bench next to him. On the table lay a tray of pastries, cereals, and breakfast meat.

She plopped down on the bench he’d indicated sleepily, hesitating only slightly at the realization she was sitting at the Slytherin table. Blaise grinned.

“I had the house-elves send some food in. I figured you’d be hungry in the morning.”

“Smart man,” she murmured in reply, reaching for an apple Danish. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Ginny posed the question on her mind. “Why’d you want to eat with me?”

Blaise shrugged, taking bites off the sausage he'd speared. “I wanted to know what you thought of my list.”

Ginny stared. “And it couldn’t have waited until, say,
noon?”

Blaise grinned wickedly, but didn’t say anything. Ginny sighed and started talking.

“It made me smile, at least. I guess I can see what you mean about me making a good Slythie.” Ginny took a long swig of pumpkin juice, and grimaced at the flavor. “Why did you try out for Raoul?”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Truthfully? I wanted to annoy you.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised by that.”

“How am I doing?”

Ginny groaned. “Let’s recap, shall we? You woke me up 2 hours too early for a Saturday morning, gave me list telling my why I’m good at being evil, and dragged me down here to eat with you at the Slytherin table. I’d say you’re doing a fine job.”

“Good.” Blaise was silent for a moment, then spoke again, his eyes glittering. “Hypothetically speaking, what do you think your brother would say if he could see you now?”

“Which brother? I have a good number of them, you know.”

“Weasel King.”

Ginny snorted. “He’d freeze up, and his face would slowly turn red, then purple. He'd stand there and mouth wordlessly for a few seconds, then finally decide to stomp over here, bellow ‘Ginevra Molly Weasley,’ and yell at me meaninglessly for a little bit. I’d say something calm, which would make him even angrier, and he’d eventually go storming off, with Harry and Hermione trying desperately to calm him down.”

Blaise looked impressed. “Good job, Love.” At Ginny’s confusion, he pointed across the hall.

Ron stood there, looking at his sister with horror, his red face slowly turning purple. His mouth moved soundlessly for a few seconds, then he came stomping over to where the pair was eating breakfast.

“Ginny! What do you think you’re doing? This is the Slytherin table!”

Ginny grinned. “Oh, did you miss the memo, Ron? I’m a Slytherin now, just ask Blaise.”

Ron shifted his gaze to Blaise, who smiled a wide, goofy grin in greeting. “Well, hi!”

---

Ginny finished her lines with Blaise, and stood there feeling stupid as she waited for the music to start. At long last, a smooth drum roll grew steadily, and Draco began to sing from somewhere beyond Ginny’s line of sight.

“Insolent boy, this slave of fashion,

Basking in your glory.

Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor,

Sharing in my triumph”

Ginny looked around as the harsh music softened, slightly afraid, slightly in awe of this disembodied voice that guided her.

“Angel, I hear you! Speak, I listen.

Stay by my side, guide me!

Angel, my soul was weak; forgive me!

Enter at last, master!”

Three violins came in perfectly with Draco, and were soon joined by three more, building the song back up to what it had been.

“Flattering child, you shall know me,

See why in shadow I hide.

Look at your face in the mirror!

I am there inside.”

The mirror was suddenly no longer there, and Draco stood in its place, holding out his hand to Ginny.

“Angel of music, guide and guardian,

Grant to me your glory!

Angel of music, hide no longer!

Come to me, strange angel!”

Ginny went to him, eyes wide in her face, and fog swirling around her feet.

“I am your angel of music;

Come to me angel of music.”

Blaise banged loudly on the door of the dressing room, yelling, but Ginny was far too seduced by her Phantom to hear.

“Whose is that voice?

Who is that in there?”

“I am your angel of music;

Come to me, angel of music!”

Chapter 9- Discussions

“Ginny, it wasn’t worth it.”

“Sorry bastard.” Ginny’s eyes were practically shooting green sparks. “I still say you should’ve let me go after him.”

“You should be glad I didn’t.” Ginny swung accusing eyes to her friend, and Hermione met them challengingly. “He was deliberately bating you to get you into trouble. Do you honestly think McGonagall would’ve cared what he said about your family if she came out and saw you Bat Bogey him?”

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but stopped as she caught sight of Harry heading their way.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Zacharias Smith decided to use some colorful terms to describe the Weasley family, and Ginny nearly attacked him right outside the Teacher’s Lounge.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed incredulously. “And you stopped her?”

Hermione groaned and shook her head. “What did you want, Harry?”

“I was just coming to tell you that Ron and I are heading into Hogsmeade right after breakfast, if you wanted to come with us.”

Hermione nodded, and Ginny grinned. “I told Blaise I’d show him Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, so he’ll have to come with us.”

Harry shrugged. “No arguments here; he hasn’t turned out to be half-bad.”

---

“Ginny, where do you want to go?”

Ginny blinked and shook her head as they walked out of the Three Broomsticks. “What?”

“He asked if you wanted to go anywhere specific,” Blaise replied, brushing a few red strands out of her face.

“Do you know where Fred and George set up the Hogsmeade branch of their shop? I want to go there,” she said, pulling her hat farther down over her ears with a shiver.

“It’s this way,” Ron said, heading off in his chosen direction.

“Cold?”

Ginny nodded, her teeth chattering. Blaise waited until they were a bit behind the others before reaching for the scarf peeking out of his coat collar. He wordlessly pulled it off and wrapped it around Ginny’s slim neck.

“Better?”

She glanced down at the Slytherin scarf hanging out in plain view and snorted. “Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem. Come on, the others are getting ahead of us.”

A few minutes later, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes came into view, and Ginny took the last few yards at a run. She burst through the door and caught sight of flaming red hair disappearing into the back room. Without a second thought, she followed.

Fred and George sat together, pouring over old design charts and profit graphs. Neither of them looked up at the sound of footsteps, but George raised his voice slightly. “We’ll be out in a second, Brenda.”

Ginny crossed her feet at the ankles and let the doorjamb take her weight. “Don’t hurry on my account.”

At the sound of their sister’s voice, identical grins broke across the twins’ faces, and they rose as one.

“Ginny! So glad you could come!”

“What brings you here on this fine winter day?”

“Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Aw, don’t be such a spoil sport.”

“By golly, George, you’re right! No one cares!”

Ginny laughed and leaned into the hugs they gave her. “Hi, guys.”

“How are you, Gin? You’re not here alone, I hope?

“No, Ron, Hermione, and Harry are here, too. Oh, and Blaise-”

“Blaise?” Fred’s ears seemed to perk up at the unfamiliar name. “Blaise who?”

“Blaise Zabini.”

“Blaise Zabini. . .isn’t he a Slythie?” They seemed to notice the scarf around her neck for the first time.

“Yes, but he’s terrible at it.”

“Ginny, do I need to talk to this boy?”

Ginny’s cheeks tinged with pink. “Oh gosh, George, he’s just my friend! He’s the new Raoul.”

“Is that right?” Fred rubbed his chin with a hand. “George, I do believe we need to get back to the shop. Customer interaction, if you know what I mean.”

“Why, Fred, I do believe you’re right. Come along, Ginny, you’re not supposed to be back here.”

Rather worried about what her brothers were planning, she followed them back into the store. Ron and Harry were examining a shelf containing various dark detectors, and Hermione was looking over the jar of pygmy puffs. Sure enough, Fred sauntered up to the counter where Blaise was standing and struck up a conversation. Noticing this, Hermione walked over to where Ginny had plopped herself down into a chair.

“What’s up, Gin?”

“Oh, just Fred and George being their usual selves.” Hermione’s face grew curious, and Ginny shrugged. “They think that Blaise and I are an item, or some such nonsense.”

“Did you set them straight?”

“I tried, but they don’t listen very well. We’re just buddies, honestly.”

“Are you sure about that, Ginny?”

The red-head looked sharply at her friend. “What do you mean, Hermione?”

She only shrugged. “Just that the way Blaise looks at you. . .sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t wish you had more than a tentative friendship.”

The bushy-haired brunette walked off, leaving a very uncertain and upset Ginny in her wake.

---

Ginny lay on the four poster in the Head Girl’s dorm, fingering the Slytherin scarf still around her neck. Blaise couldn’t like her. . .could he? She’d taken his warm smiles and gentle jibes as those of a friend. What if he felt more for her than friendship? What if he thought she returned the sentiment?

Ginny awkwardly turned over, propping her head up on her hand. “Hermione, do you really think he likes me like that?”

Hermione ran a hand through her already bushy hair, a sure sign she was agitated. “I don’t know, Gin. I just think you should be careful how open you are with him until you’re sure.”

Ginny flopped back over onto her back, staring at the canopy of the four poster. “I mean, I like him and everything, but not like that. He’s really sweet and nice and. . . oh, I don’t know! He’s so much better, but for some reason I still prefer Dr-” Ginny stopped abruptly before she could say something incriminating, but Hermione caught it, her brown eyes narrowing.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. It was nothing, forget I said it.”

“You were going to say you preferred Draco.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

The clock struck twelve ominously.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, don’t toy with me.”

---

Blaise knew the instant he entered the Head Boy’s dorm that something was amiss. Draco was sitting in the straight backed wooden chair across from the door, and motioned silently for his friend to take a seat. Blaise did so, warily.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Draco spoke, his voice cool and controlled.

“So. . .you went into Hogsmeade today.”

“Yes,” said the other man, somewhat uncertainly.

“Enjoy yourself, did you?”

“Well enough, I suppose.”

The pale blond man looked at his friend over steepled fingers, his gaze cold and calculating. “Why are you suddenly so interested in the Weasley girl?”

Blaise rolled his eyes- they’d been over this before. “She has a name, Draco.”

“Do you have feelings for the girl?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

The clock struck twelve ominously.

“Blaise Zabini, don’t toy with me.”

---

“-And I just don’t know what to do. Every time I get even somewhat close to him he pushes me away. I can’t stand it!”

Hermione remained silent, and Ginny looked up at her friend. “Mione? What do you think?”

It took Hermione a moment to answer. “Truthfully?”

“Yeah.”

“I think, after hearing all this, I might’ve been wrong. Maybe Blaise is just trying to help you get under that shell that Malfoy almost never lets down.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

Hermione shook her head wonderingly. “I have no idea. If I had to choose between them Ginny, I’d go for Blaise. If you’re superficial, he’s just as rich and handsome as Malfoy is. If you’re looking for something deeper, Blaise is nice, funny, smart, and down-to-Earth. Plus, I can almost guarantee he’d treat you right, which is more than anyone can say for old ferret-face.”

Ginny sighed and stood to leave. “Maybe you’re right.”

---

“I don’t feel anything stronger for her than I would for a friend.”

“Are you sure?”

“By Merlin, Draco, grow up! Ginny’s like a sister to me! Satisfied?”

“No, I’m not.” Draco’s gray eyes grew hard, and he stood, towering in the small room. “I think you’re lying to me.”

“Draco, read my lips: I. Don’t. Like. Ginny. I don’t know how to make you believe me, but I know I can’t say it any more clearly than that. I do think, however, that you can’t make the same claim.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you like Ginny, and you don’t need to bother denying it; I know I’m right. So let me give you a bit of advice, friend to friend. Ginny’s a fire ball, and she’s not going to put up with any of the shit you’ve just put me through. You have to treat her with respect, or she’ll Bat Bogey you so fast it’ll make your head spin.” Blaise stood, and he somehow seemed taller than his friend. “And if you hurt her, just remember that she has six older brothers who won’t hesitate to make you regret it.”

Blaise swept out of the room, leaving a very quiet Draco in his wake.

Chapter 10- Cold

Ginny left Hermione’s private room, intending to leave through the Head Boy and Girl’s common room. She was surprised to see Blaise coming out of Draco’s quarters, eyes hard and seething. Upon noticing her, he tamed his expression.

“What are you doing here?”

“Visiting Hermione,” she said, gesturing to the door behind her. “You?”

Blaise sighed and made a face at the door he’d just closed. “Talking to Draco.”

“Looks like it went badly.”

Blaise darted in front of her to hold the portrait open, then followed her out through it. “What do you mean?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and a slight smirk appeared on the corner of her mouth. “You came out of there looking ready to kill. What happened?”

Blaise shrugged, his voice a semblance of calm. “Oh, nothing much, just setting him straight about a few things.”

“Anything serious?”

Surprisingly, Blaise raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. “Well. . .that depends, doesn’t it?”

“On?”

“Who you ask.”

Ginny rolled her eyes as they came to a halt in the entrance hall. “Why do I have a peculiar feeling you were talking about me?”

Blaise’s smile widened but he remained silent.

“Tell me!”

“You might’ve entered the conversation at some point.”

“And?”

“And that’s all.”

“Blaise Zabini, don’t you dare not tell me!”

“You’re very cute when you’re angry, love.”

“Blaise-”

The man just laughed and pushed her toward the marble staircase. “Go to bed, Ginny. Maybe I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

The red-head sighed but could see she was going to lose this battle. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard Blaise call her name again.

“I’ll be wanting that scarf back.”

---

The following night, an hour before the end of practice, Patrick called a halt to the music.

“I know you all have been working extremely hard on this show, and to show you just how much I appreciate that, I’ve got a little surprise for you. I’ve asked Professor Dumbledore if we could have ourselves a cast sleepover tonight, and he said yes. Furthermore, he agreed to let you have the day off from classes tomorrow, to spend as you please. Go and get whatever you need for the night now, and then we’ll keep practicing on after curfew.”

Ginny linked arms with Hermione and headed off toward Gryffindor tower.

“Isn’t it exciting, Hermione? We get to stay up late tonight AND we get the whole day off tomorrow!”

Hermione sighed and looked disappointed. “I spent the entire rehearsal trying to get my homework done for tomorrow and now I find out I could’ve left it.”

Ginny exhaled loudly. “Whew, I was afraid you were going to be disappointed we don’t have class tomorrow.”

“Well, there’s that too. . .”

---

Parvati Patil, stretched out on a thick blanket, sniffled into her fuzzy pillow as the ending credits began to scroll up the screen. “That’s so pretty. I just can’t get over the way Christine has to choose between the two guys when she loves them both.” Parvati sighed and rolled over to talk to Padma.

Patrick’s voice boomed from somewhere to the right of them.

“Now what do you want to do?”

Silence ruled for a moment before Blaise, who was stretched out beside Ginny, suddenly bellowed, “Karaoke!”

Murmurs of assent rippled through the relaxing cast, and Patrick motioned to Hermione. “If you would. . . ?”

Hermione nodded and positioned herself beside the stage, ready to broadcast whatever song was requested.

The room was silent as everyone looked nervously at everyone else, trying to decide who was going to move first. Ginny watched a piece of paper float down in front of Blaise’s face, and he unfolded it cautiously. Two bold words stood out on the parchment:

‘Do it.’

Blaise sighed, but stood and headed toward the stage. He paused to tell Hermione what song to broadcast, then addressed the room as a whole. “Just so everyone knows, this song has nothing to do with me. This is from a friend who chooses to remain anonymous, and it’s dedicated to Miss Ginevra Weasley.

“Looking back at me I see that I never really got it right;

I never stopped to think of you.

I’m always wrapped up in things I cannot win.

You are the antidote that gets me by,

Something strong, like a drug that gets me high.

What I really meant to say is I’m sorry for the way I am.

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so cold.

What I really meant to say is I’m sorry for the way I am.

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so.”

The rock guitar and drum paused for a moment before coming back in with a hard beat.

“Cold to you, I’m sorry about all the lies.

Maybe in a different life you can see me stand on my own
again;

Cause now I can see

You are the antidote that got me by.

Something strong, like a drug that got me high.

What I really meant to say is I’m sorry for the way I am.

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so cold.

What I really meant to say is I’m sorry for the way I am.

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so cold.

Never meant to be so cold.”

The rough beat, which had slowed to a moderate tempo, came back up with a distorted lead guitar solo.

“I never really wanted you to see

That screwed up side of me that I keep

Locked inside of me so deep;

It always seems to get to me.

I never really wanted you to go;

So many things you should have known-

I guess for me there’s just no hope.

I never meant to be so cold.

What I really meant to say is I’m sorry for the way I am.

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so cold.

What I really meant to say is I’m sorry for the way I am.

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so cold."

Chapter 11- Warring Songbirds

“Ginny, do you know who that song was from?” Parvati’s dark eyes shown with excitement at the thought of a ‘secret admirer.’ “Whoever it was, it was a very sweet thing to do.”

“I know exactly who it’s from.” The red-head's eyes were glued to Draco as she tried to think of a song that she could sing back to him. When one finally popped into her head, she trotted up to the stage, waiting impatiently for her turn. “This song is dedicated to a certain someone in the audience; you know who you are. So. . . yeah.”

A single acoustic guitar began the song, and a few people throughout the audience murmured in recognition. Ginny suddenly found she was nervous, and she didn’t know why; Ginny Weasley was never nervous.

“I’m tugging at my hair

I’m pulling at my clothes

I’m trying to keep my cool

I know it shows

I’m staring at my feet

My cheeks are turning red

I’m searching for the words

Inside my head

’Cause I’m feeling nervous

Trying to be so perfect

’Cause I know you’re worth it

You’re worth it, yeah”

Ginny bit her lip for the brief moment before the chorus started, actually embarrassed to be admitting her feelings in front of the entire cast.

“If I could say what I want to say

I’d say I want to blow you away

Be with you every night

Am I squeezing you too tight?

If I could say what I want to see

I want to see you go down on one knee

Marry me today

Guess I’m wishing my life away

With these things I’ll never say”

Ginny’s jitters began to fade as the opening guitar chords led into the second verse. She’d performed a hundred times; what was there to be nervous about?

“It don’t do me any good

It’s just a waste of time

What use is it to you

What’s on my mind?

If it ain’t coming out

We’re not going anywhere

So, why can’t I just tell you

That I care?

’Cause I’m feeling nervous

Trying to be so perfect

’Cause I know you’re worth it

You’re worth it, yeah

If I could say what I want to say

I’d say I want to blow you away

Be with you every night

Am I squeezing you too tight?

If I could say what I want to see

I want to see you go down on one knee

Marry me today

Guess I’m wishing my life away

With these things I’ll never say”

Ginny sought out Draco, her green eyes boldly meeting his gray ones. Understanding burned there, and she knew he'd figured out what was going on.

“What’s wrong with my tongue?

These words keep slipping away

I stutter, I stumble

Like I’ve got nothing to say

’Cause I’m feeling nervous

Trying to be so perfect

’Cause I know you’re worth it

You’re worth it, yeah”

The acoustic guitar took over again for a short musical interlude, Ginny bopped a little bit to the beat, causing a few people to laugh.

”Guess I’m wishing my life away

With these things I’ll never say

If I could say what I want to say

I’d say I want to blow you away

Be with you every night

Am I squeezing you too tight?

If I could say what I want to see

I want to see you go down on one knee

Marry me today

Guess I’m wishing my life away

With these things I’ll never say”

Ginny let the electric guitar fade completely away, leaving everyone hanging on her words, before singing the last line.

”These things I’ll never say”

Everyone in the cast clapped at the song’s conclusion, and Ginny playfully curtsied as she walked off the stage. She found Hermione without too much trouble, and the two sat chatting through the next three songs. The beginning of the fourth was a familiar electric guitar pattern, and Ginny looked up to see it was Draco onstage.

“Prison gates won’t open up for me

On these hands and knees I’m crawling

Oh, I reach for you

Well, I’m terrified of these four walls

‘Cause iron bars can’t hold my soul

And all I need is you

Come, please, I’m callin’

And oh, I scream for you

Hurry, I’m fallin’

I’m fallin’”

Draco’s eyes found Ginny’s, pinning her to her seat with an iron stare.

“Show me what it’s like

To be the last one standing

Teach me wrong from right

And I’ll show you what I can be

And say it for me, say it to me

And I’ll leave this life behind me

Say it if it’s what’s savin’ me

Heaven’s gates won’t open up for me

With these broken wings I’m falling

All I see is you

These city walls ain’t got no love for me

I’m on the ledge of the eighteenth story

And oh, I scream for you

Come, please, I’m callin’

And all I need from you

Hurry, I’m fallin’

I’m fallin’

Show me what it’s like

To be the last one standing

Teach me wrong from right

And I’ll show you what I can be

And say it for me, say it to me

And I’ll leave this life behind me

Say it if it’s what’s savin’ me

Hurry, I’m fallin’”

The guitar went off on a difficult solo, and the other instrument built the music in behind it, growing to a forte before dropping down to almost nothing.

“And all I need is you

Come, please, I’m callin’

And oh, I scream for you

Hurry, I’m fallin’

I’m fallin’”

The music dropped out completely for an instant, then came back in, soaring with Draco’s voice in an incredible climax.

“Show me what it’s like

To be the last one standing

Teach me wrong from right

And I’ll show you what I can be

And say it for me, say it to me

And I’ll leave this life behind me

Say it if it’s what’s savin’ me

Hurry, I’m fallin’

And say it for me, say it to me

And I’ll leave this life behind me

Say it if it’s what’s savin’ me”

Chapter 12- A Beautiful Disaster

Ginny stared at Draco as he finished the song. He’d always been so cold, and now he. . . he was giving her a chance to get under his shell.

“Ginny.” The red head turned to the voice, which happened to belong to Blaise. He was looking serious for once, and somewhat concerned. “You have to sing something back. He can’t have the last word, not this time.”

“Why?”

“Because he just bared his heart to you!” Ginny could tell Blaise was having trouble keeping his voice low enough not attract attention. “He’s giving you the chance to understand him, and help him, a chance he’s given one person before. Just one.”

Ginny drew a deep breath through her nose and nodded; she hated it when he was right. Hermione raised her eyebrows when Ginny requested her song, but said nothing. The red-head arranged herself once more on the stage, and her eyes sought out Blaise as the familiar piano-based beginning filled the room.

“He drowns in his dreams

An exquisite extreme, I know.

He’s as damned as he seems

And more Heaven than a heart could hold.

And if I try to save him

My whole would cave in.

It just ain’t right.

Lord, it just ain’t right.

Oh and I don’t know

I don’t know what he’s after.

But he’s so beautiful

He’s such a beautiful disaster.

And if I could hold on

Through the tears and the laughter

Lord would it be beautiful,

Or just a beautiful disaster?”

Eyes roaming the audience, Ginny found the male members of the ‘Golden Trio’ watching her. Ron looked mildly annoyed that she was up there again, and Harry was gazing at her with interest.

“He’s magic and myth,

As strong as what I believe.

A tragedy with

More damage than a soul should see.

But do I try to change him?

So hard not to blame him;

Hold me tight.

Baby, hold me tight.”

Hermione’s uneasy gaze moved from Ginny, who was steadily growing paler, to Draco, who was losing the fight to keep his face expressionless.

“Oh, and I don’t know

I don’t know what he’s after.

But he’s so beautiful

He’s such a beautiful disaster.

And if I could hold on

Through the tears and the laughter

would it be beautiful,

Or just a beautiful disaster?”

The piano grew to a forte, and Ginny’s eyes sought Draco’s: vibrant green gems met cool gray ones.

“I’m longing for love and a logical,

But he’s only happy hysterical.

I’m searching for some kind of miracle,

Waiting so long.

I’ve waited so long.”

Ginny’s heart sank as Draco turned on his heel and walked stiffly from the room. Her eyes swung to Blaise, and his steely gaze was all that kept her up there. As the piano slowed, a tear ran down Ginny’s cheek.

“He’s soft to the touch

But, frayed at the end, he breaks.

He’s never enough,

And still he’s more than I can take.”

The piano picked up speed and volume once more, and Ginny’s anguished voice rang throughout the corridors of the school, following Draco all the way to the dungeons.

“Oh, and I don’t know

I don’t know what he’s after.

But he’s so beautiful

He’s such a beautiful disaster.

And if I could hold on

Through the tears and the laughter

would it be beautiful,

Or just a beautiful disaster?

He’s beautiful.

Lord, he’s so beautiful.

He’s beautiful.”

---

Three days later, Ginny was closing the door to the main dressing room when she felt the eyes on her back. Turning quickly, she was greeted by the sight of Draco Malfoy leaning silently against the back wall. She ignored him, putting her props back in their respective places, making herself look busy, but his eyes followed everywhere she went. After a few minutes, Ginny lost patience.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Malfoy, or are you just staring at me for no reason?”

Draco pushed away from the wall, walking toward her in that calm, seductive way of his. “You’ve been avoiding me, Weaselette. Are you angry about something?”

Ginny was angry enough that she could ignore the ‘Weaselette’ for now. “You know I am; I haven’t exactly made a secret of it.”

“I meant besides the obvious.”

“The obvious is all that matters to me.”

Draco just raised an eyebrow and fell silent again. Ginny continued to move about the room, trying to pretend that he didn’t exist; the rising heat in her cheeks told her she was failing. Eventually, she gave up on looking busy and sat down, cradling her aching forehead in one hand.

How long it was until one of them moved, Ginny didn’t know. It could’ve been an hour later, or only five minutes later when Draco grew weary of the silence and started for the door. He was halfway out before Ginny’s voice stopped him.

“What are we, Draco?”

He turned slowly and found tired, defeated eyes looking at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are we? We’re not enemies any longer, but we’re certainly not friends. We’re costars, but I think there’s more there than that. We fight as often as Peeves plays practical jokes, and feel sparks of something else the other half of the time.” Ginny let her head fall, resting it in both of her hands. “I’m tired, and I want to know.”

Draco actually seemed to be at a loss for words. “I. . . I don't-”

“Ginny?”

Blaise poked his head into the room, eyes slowly growing as he took in the scene: Ginny, looking overwhelmed and close to tears, and Draco, watching her with eyes that were almost. . . unguarded.

“Do I need to make myself scarce?”

Ginny shook her head slowly, running a hand through her hair resignedly. “What do you need, Blaise?”

“Patrick wants you, but I can tell him you’re indisposed.”

“No, that’s alright.” Ginny stood up and walked out of the room, pausing for a moment as she passed Draco. “Let me know if you ever figure it out, okay?”

Chapter 13- I’ve Been There

Ginny sat alone in front of the Common Room fire, thinking over her conversation with Malfoy. He certainly hadn’t acted as confused as she felt, but neither had he been as sure of himself as he normally was. Either way, she didn’t regret being as blunt as she had; it felt wonderful to have all that off her chest. Unthinkingly, she softly sang a few bars of one of her show songs.

“Raoul, I’ve been there

To his world of unending night,

To a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness.

Darkness.”

What on Earth was she doing? It just didn’t make any sense that a Weasley would fall for a Malfoy. Why was she so tied up in knots over that bloody Slytherin? The answer came to her without a moment’s pause.

“But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound,

In that night there was music in my mind.

And through music my soul began to soar,

And I heard as I never heard before.”

Ginny sighed and shook her head in disgust; she just couldn’t puzzle this out. She rose and headed down to the Great Hall for lunch, singing the last two lines as she ducked out of the portrait hole.

“Yet in his eyes all the sadness of the world;

Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.”

---

“Ginny, I want to talk to you.”

Ginny kept herself from choking in surprise with some difficulty. Ron was actually speaking to her, something he hadn’t done in quite a while. She forced herself to keep eating calmly, answering him in a normal voice.

“I’m listening.”

“It’s important.”

Something in his tone gave her pause. Ginny stopped with a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth and raised her eyebrows at her brother.

“So talk.”

“I think you’re in too deep with the Slytherins.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and pushed her fork into her mouth. “Oh, honestly. . . Ron, we’ve been over this.”

“No, hear me out.”

Ginny rolled her eyes again, but gestured aimlessly with her fork, and Ron seemed to take that for assent.

“You’re spending so much time with them, and I don’t think it’s necessary that-”

“We tried rehearsing apart, but, somehow, it just wasn’t the same.”

“Well, yeah, but you seem really comfortable with them, and-”

“Not really, I just act that way to spite you,” Ginny said, drawing a snort from Harry, sitting across the table. She hid a grin with difficulty and tried to make herself take the conversation seriously. It didn’t work. “Seriously, Ron, we’re costarring in a show; we have to be at some level of relaxation with each other.”

Ron seemed to realize he was losing his battle. “You just seem too relaxed with them, and I don’t like it.”

Ginny sighed and made herself stop joking. “Ron, here’s the long and short of it: whether you like it or not, I’m starring in the show with two Slytherins. I know you don’t like it, and you probably never stopped to think that it might not be a piece of cake for me, either.” Ron looked dumbfounded, and Ginny nodded. “Exactly. Yes, there are times when it’s extremely hard, and all I want to do is run home to mum. All in all, though, I think I’ve had more fun with them than I’ve had since Fred and George left Hogwarts.”

Ron raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Fun?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh, dry up, Ron; you know that’s not what I meant. Blaise is a really nice guy, and working with him never puts me in anything but hysterics. He makes me laugh, and he treats me well. Bloody hell, even Harry admitted that he hasn’t turned out to be half-bad.”

Harry tried to find a sudden interest in the ceiling, but the sun was shining too brightly for that. Blinking wildly, he stared studiously into his pumpkin juice and avoided Ron’s incredulous gaze. Hermione, sitting on Ron’s other side, rubbed her upper lip in suspiciously amused way.

“As for Draco,” Ginny continued, drawing Ron’s disbelieving gaze back to her. “Yes, Draco, that’s his name, Ron. As for Draco. . . well, he’s really not half-bad, either. Yeah, we fight all the time, but it’s no worse than I do with any of you guys. If he tries to be an asshole I put him in his place, but, overall, he’s really not that hard to work with.”

Singing Malfoy’s praises had earned her incredulous stares from both Ron and Harry, but Hermione just smiled faintly, eyes twinkling slightly. Ginny noticed that and worked to control a blush. Luckily, neither of the boys seemed to notice.

“So. . . you like being with Slytherins?”

“Oh, don’t be dense, Ron,” Hermione snapped, dropping her spoon with a clatter. “That’s not what she said.”

‘Bless you, Hermione.’ Ginny thanked her friend with her eyes and tried to explain it so her thick-headed brother could understand. “If I had to hang out with Pansy Parkinson or Crabbe and Goyle all the time, I’d go bonkers. Blaise and Draco, though. . . they’re not a problem, because most of the time, they don’t act like Slytherins.”

Ron, Harry, and Hermione all three raised their eyebrows at that, and Ginny hurried to amend her statement.

“Alright, most of the time, they don’t act like Slytherins with me.”

---

Across the Great Hall, one of the two non-Slytherin Slytherins was watching a certain redhead with an unreadable look on his face. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then nudged the boy sitting next to him.

“Blaise, watch Ginny.”

“Gladly. Why?”

“She keeps glancing over here as she talks, and she’s shooting us somewhat. . . mischievous glances.”

Blaise grinned and clapped his friend on the shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it, Draco. She’s probably just singing our praises to the ‘Golden Trio.’”

Just then, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned around to stare at the two of them incredulously, and Blaise dropped his hand from Draco’s shoulder to resume eating.

“You see? Nothing to worry about.”

Chapter 14- As Long as You’re Mine

Ginny sat in the practice room, angrily plunking out white-key scales. ‘I warmed up just like Patrick always tells us to do, I didn’t have any milk or other throat-coating junk at lunch, and I still can’t sing this stupid song! Merlin, I might as well-”

Her mental rants were interrupted by the door to the practice room opening and Draco Malfoy stepping inside. Not wanting him to see her anger, Ginny started to plunk out the melody line of one of her songs, pretending that was what she’d been doing anyway. Draco just walked over to lean against the wall, and Ginny could feel her face turning red. ‘Oh, Merlin, now I’ll never be able to concentrate.’

Unknown to a certain redhead, Draco was feeling nearly the same emotion as Ginny was. He leaned against the wall beside the piano, watching in fascination as dull color crawled up the back of her neck. He unknowingly found himself breathing harder as he looked at her. ‘Merlin she’s beautiful.’

Draco listened as Ginny continued to play Masquerade, her fingers hitting wrong notes more and more frequently as the back of her neck grew steadily redder. She eventually gave up on the pretense and let her hands fall to her lap. She didn’t speak, and Draco didn’t move, content to just watch her. After a minute or two, he started to sing quietly, watching her for a reaction.

“Maybe I’m brainless, maybe I’m wise,

But you’ve got me seeing through different eyes.

Somehow, I’ve fallen under your spell,

And somehow I’m feeling, it’s ‘up’ that I fell. . .”

Ginny didn’t rise, or turn, or give any indication that she’d heard him, but she started to sing.

“Every moment as long as you’re mine

I wake up my body, and make up for lost time.

Say there’s no future for us as a pair.”

Ginny bit her lip, looking down at the piano as she sang the next line. She sucked in a deep breath and turned around on the bench, taking Draco’s outstretched hand and letting him pull her up.

“And though I may know, I don’t care!

Just for this moment, as long as you’re mine

Come be how you want to, and see how bright we shine.”

Moonlight streamed through the windows, casting shadows over their figures and, somehow, their voices as Draco pulled Ginny into him, his gray eyes dark with ardor.

“Borrow the moonlight until it is through.

I know I’ll be here holding you

As long as you’re mine.”

Draco stood and gazed down at her for a moment, then unhurriedly lowered his lips to hers.

---

Days later, sitting in her room at Headquarters, Ginny tied the bow on the second gift with a flourish and gave both packages to Hedwig, who carried them out the window and off into the London suburbs. She watched the snowy white owl until it was just a speck in the sky, unconsciously nervous. She’d never sent a Christmas present to a Slytherin before.

Ginny was just turning away from the window when something caught the corner of her eye. A large eagle owl was flying straight toward her, a large box clutched in its talons.

The bird swooped into the room a moment later and landed on the bed. Ginny gently untied the twine that held the package to its feet, fed the owl a treat, and watched for a moment as it took off again. She closed and latched the window, then turned her attention to the mysterious package.

Quickly, Ginny ripped the brown paper, wondering vaguely how the owl had found her at Headquarters. She pulled open the box, and two smaller packages fell into her lap, identically wrapped. The smaller of the two said OPEN ME FIRST in bold letters, so Ginny complied.

The note in the very top of the box was written in a hand Ginny recognized as Blaise’s, and she settled back on her bed to read it.

Dear Ginny,

Hello, Love! I can only imagine how dreary your holidays are without Yours Truly around to brighten them. As difficult as it must be to function in everyday life without me, I hope you’re enjoying yourself anyway. I’m spending Christmas at Malfoy Manor, so, of course, my cheerfulness is in high demand. The other package is from Draco, and he wouldn’t tell me for anything what he got you (meaning you must write me as soon as you open it and tell me what it is).

Getting down to your gift, I seriously considered sending you an empty box. After a bit of reflection, however, I decided that you might not find that as humorous as I did. Far be it for me to send a gift that might not be received correctly, so I asked for a bit of help. Mother made a few modifications to the style; she says it was too masculine or some such thing. Anyway, I hope you like it.

The greatest and best looking friend you could ever hope for,
Blaise Zabini

Laughing, Ginny put the letter aside and peered into the box. A ring made of the purest silver lay inside, a diamond-shaped emerald set in the middle. A second card was next to it, and she picked it up to read it.

Surprise! This is a sort of ‘summoning ring.’ Mother thought you’d prefer silver to gold, and she insisted on an emerald. Apparently a different stone just wouldn’t do. Anyway, here’s a little rundown on how this works. You have to wear it on the middle finger of your left hand or it won’t do anything. Doing the actual summoning is going to be a bit more complicated with three people now in the loop, but it should still work. When you want one of us, just put your wand tip on the stone and shoot our spark into it. For instance, if you wanted Draco, you’d shoot red sparks. My ring has a sapphire, so you’ll have to shoot blue sparks for me. Enjoy!

Ginny lay the card aside and took the ring from the box, still confused over what it was for. Figuring she’d find out eventually, she slipped it onto the middle finger of her left hand and watched as it shrank to a perfect fit. Ginny smiled and reached for the letter she now knew to be Draco’s.

Ginny,

Assuming- and rightly so, I’m sure- that Blaise has said enough for both of us, I’ll skip the pleasantries and small talk. Your gift gave me a good bit of trouble, so pretend you like it even if you don’t.

Draco

Feeling more than slightly apprehensive about what this gift might be, Ginny set aside the letter and pulled the box open. A long, slender jewelry case lay inside, closed. She slowly withdrew the case and opened it. A thin silver chain was mounted inside, a small pendant strung on it. Upon further inspection, Ginny saw it was in the shape of a rose with a small crack up one side. She slid her fingernail into the crack, and the locket slowly opened.

A black and white wizarding photograph of two people stared up at her, their faces making her breath catch in her throat. It was she and Draco at rehearsal, just about to share their first onstage kiss. Ginny watched as her photographic self slid her arms around ‘the Phantom’ and drew him close. On the backside of the locket was one small word, written in an agonized script: Wicked.

With nothing but thoughtfulness on her face, Ginny pulled the necklace from its case and fastened it around her neck.

MEANWHILE, AT MALFOY MANOR:

“Do you think she’s gotten them yet, Draco?”

“I don’t know, Blaise, and if you ask me that one more time I’m going to curse you into oblivion!”

Blaise frowned and was quiet for a few minutes, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. When he grew bored, he spoke again as he lifted his martini glass to his lips. “So. . .do you think she’s gotten them yet?”

Draco growled low in his throat and made to reach for his wand, but his gaze went to the window instead. Hedwig was hovering just outside it, the two packages from Ginny clutched in her beak. Blaise jumped up and threw open the window, letting the snow-covered bird land on his outstretched arm. After carrying her to a stoop in front of the fire, he took both packages back to the sofa he’d been lying on.

Draco, rolling his eyes, took out his wand and summoned his present from Blaise’s lap. Once it was in his hands, however, he set it down and watched his friend read.

Hi, Blaise!

I hope you’re having a fabulous holiday wherever you are. I haven’t heard from you, but I have a sneaking suspicion you’re camping out at Draco’s. You’d better keep working on the show songs, or I’m going to have to be very angry with you.

Now, I’ll be the first one to admit I was slightly iffy about what to get you. Keeping your personality in mind, though, I had this made for you. I hope you like it, or at least get as much a laugh out of it as I did.

Love you always,
Ginny

With a raised eyebrow, Blaise set the letter carefully out of Draco’s reach and opened the package. A pointed wizard’s hat lay inside, Slytherin snake sewn boldly on the brim. He turned it around in his hands, staring at the base of the cone in amazement. There, in shining green letters, were the words THE PHANTOM’S LACKEY. A broad grin broke out across Blaise’s face, and he promptly stuck the hat on his head.

Draco, who had been watching the entire time, snorted and turned his attention to his own gift. The letter stuck to the top was short and to the point.

Draco,

I hope you’re enjoying yourself on Holidays. Your present gave me no small amount of trouble, so I hope you like it. In the end, I had to go to Snape and ask his advice (which was not a pleasant experience let me tell you), so you’d better act like you appreciate it.

Ginny

PS- Hermione says it’ll match your eyes beautifully, but she told me not to tell you that.

Draco pulled the brown paper from the squishy package and surprise itself seemed to appear. A cloak of purest gray silk fell into his hands, warming whatever part of him it touched. Confused at this, he stood and flung it around his shoulders. Warmth immediately enveloped him, sending shivers down his spine. Across the room, Blaise whistled and drained his martini.

Chapter 15- An Invitation

Ginny sat grinning at the stash of Christmas presents surrounding her. Hermione had given her a journal that they could write back and forth in from different places. Harry had given her a stash of the more humorous dark detectors from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and Ron had given her a subscription to a new Quidditch magazine. From mum and dad had come the usual hand-knitted sweater, as well as a set of shining ivory quills. Bill and Charlie had pitched in together to buy her both the original book ‘The Phantom of the Opera,’ on which the musical was based, and a book detailing the history of the stage show. Fred and George gave her samplers of all their latest beauty potions, perfumes, and lotions.

As Ginny was nosing- pun totally intended- through the perfumes, Hermione came into the room they shared while at Headquarters. “Hi, Gin.”

“Hi,” she replied, still caught up in her presents. She held out an un-stoppered glass vial. “Smell this one. Doesn’t it remind you of Kreacher?”

Hermione took a quick whiff and grimaced deeply, sitting down beside her friend. “So. . .I’ve noticed something, Ginny. I don’t think anyone else did, but I have.”

“What’s that?” The red-head asked distractedly, setting the perfumes aside and reaching for a bottle of light pink lotion.

“You’re wearing some new jewelry.”

Ginny grinned before she could stop herself. “So, I got a new necklace.”

Hermione didn’t look at all fooled. “And a new ring. Who’re they from, Gin?”

“Blaise and Draco sent me Christmas presents a couple days ago. It’s not a big deal.”

Hermione grinned and fingered the locket around the redhead’s throat. “Who gave you which one?”

Instead of answering her friend’s question, Ginny glanced out the door to make sure no one was listening, then spoke in a low voice. “Can you keep a secret?”

Hermione nodded, peering at the jewelry curiously.

“Okay, the ring is from Blaise, and he and Draco have some sort of floo network of their own.” Hermione sat forward, her face intense, and Ginny continued on. “If I shoot blue sparks into here, Blaise will know and come somehow. Same thing with Draco, except with red sparks. It’s so weird.”

Hermione sat back, a pondering expression on her face. “And you’re sure it works? You’ve seen it?”

Ginny frowned, looking slightly put-out. “No, I’ve never seen them do it.”

“Have you tried it yet?”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“I haven’t needed them for anything.” Ginny shrugged, trying to think of a reason to test the rings. “Except. . .I was supposed to tell Blaise what Draco got me, and I never did.”

Hermione smiled and grabbed Ginny’s wand off the nightstand. “There you go. Try it out and see what happens.”

Ginny took her wand from Hermione, hesitantly pressed the tip to her emerald, and shot blue sparks into it. The stone glowed for a second, then faded to its original color. A moment later, the flames in the fireplace erupted green and Blaise stepped out of them. He looked around the shabby room as he brushed the ash from his clothes, then caught sight of the two girls.

“Ginny!” Blaise closed the distance between them and hugged her swiftly, then stretched out on her bed, making himself quite at home. “What can I do for you?”

“We want to know how the rings work. Well, mostly how you know where to go.”

“Aw, that’s easy. You just throw the floo powder into the fire, step in, and it automatically takes you wherever you’re needed. It’s pretty convenient.”

“Cool.” Ginny nodded and they sat in an easy silence. After a moment, she spoke again. “Oh, you wanted to see what Draco got me.” She held out the locket.

Blaise sat up and looked interestedly at the rose. He opened it and peered keenly at the picture within, a faintly surprised look coming to rest in his eyes the longer he gazed at it. When he turned it over, however, and saw the word on the back, a small smile grew on his face.

“Whoa,” he pronounced finally, lifting slightly amused eyes to Ginny’s. “I’m shocked.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t continue. “Why?”

“He thinks you’re wicked.”

“And. . . this is a good thing how?”

Blaise rolled his eyes in a ‘Merlin-this-is-so-obvious’ way. “Not evil-Wicked. Cool-wicked.”

“Oh. . . really?”

“Sure. By the way, I’m supposed to issue you an invitation.”

“To what?”

“To the Malfoy’s annual Christmas party.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’d rather not spend my Christmas being ridiculed and pushed to the side, thanks.”

“I don’t think it’d be that way, love.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“Well, I’ll be there, for one,” Blaise said, sounding rather surprised that she hadn’t guessed. “If anyone tried to make an ass out of themselves, they’d have to get through me first. Second, Draco and I both want you to come. Three, I think you’ll have fun, and four, the Malfoys specifically asked for you to be there. They want the whole Phantom trio there, or some such thing.”

Ginny glanced at Hermione, doubt furrowing her brow. “I don’t know. . .it doesn’t quite seem like my kind of thing.” Surprisingly, the other girl didn’t agree.

“You should go, Ginny,” Hermione put in, her eyes fixing Blaise with an appraising gaze. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

Ginny’s eyes swung back and forth between the two for quite some time before she sighed and threw up her hands. “Alright, I’ll go. Happy?”

Blaise sat up, grinning. “Quite. I’ve got to be going now, but I’ll see you there?”

“Yes, yes. Go away.”

“With pleasure,” Blaise said with a mock bow. “I’ll owl you with the details, okay?”

Ginny waved him half-heartedly through the fireplace, then let her hand fall to her lap. She and Hermione sat in silence for some time, both deep in thought. A horrible idea suddenly popped into her head, and Ginny, filled with dread, leapt to her feet and sprinted to her closet.

“Hermione, what am I going to wear? I have absolutely nothing that would be acceptable!”

Her bushy haired friend came to stand beside her, gazing at the ragged hand-me-downs. After a moment, she reached inside to finger the fabric of the only dress there.

“What about this?”

“The ‘Think of Me’ dress? Hermione, you’ve got to be kidding. It’s not even mine! It’d be way too extravagant anyway.”

Hermione shrugged and pulled the dress out, laying it flat on the bed to examine it.

“I can make a few alterations to it, to make it more acceptable. The color is good on you, and I can make it less over-the-top. We can even add some trimming to make it more festive.”

Ginny stared at her. “Change it? Are you crazy?! What if we can’t get it back to normal? Patrick will kill me. . .slowly and painfully. . .with a machete!”

Hermione just looked at her. “Do you really think I’d do something to it that I couldn’t undo?”

Ginny sighed and looked at the dress unsurely, brow furrowed in worry. It was beautiful, and she trusted Hermione could make it work. Still, she wasn’t very sure about wearing it to the Malfoy’s. Draco and Blaise would surely recognize it, and they’d know she hadn’t had anything suitable to wear. She sighed again and bit her lip.

“Fine. I trust you.” Ginny held up her hand as Hermione broke out into a smile. “But you’ve got to make this thing unrecognizable, and promise you’ll be able to turn it back.”

Hermione just raised an eyebrow and whipped out her wand. “Perfect. Let’s get busy.”

Chapter 16- Grown Up Christmas List

Ginny smoothed her dress self-consciously and swallowed hard, one shaking hand gripping the railing tightly. Everything was working out just as Blaise had said it would, but she was still exceedingly nervous. She’d floo-ed into his guest room at Malfoy Manor, found a waiting house elf, and was now following that elf down a grand staircase. The sound of festivities was growing closer by the second.

As she neared the ballroom, butterflies grew in her stomach. She had made a decision to leave, and was gathering her skirt to do so, when a familiar voice called her name.

“Ginny? Is that you?”

She turned back around and found Blaise strolling toward her, warm smile on his face.

“Hello, Love, glad you could make it.” He kissed her cheek, then held up a finger for her to turn. She did so, blushing under his appraising gaze. “You look good.”

Ginny knew it was true, and bit her lip in an effort to keep from beaming. The gown truly was wonderful; Hermione had done an unbelievable job. Emerald velvet lined the neckline, which rested on her upper arms. The shimmery silver bodice outlined her curves, and the cocktail style skirt rested, poofy, against her knees. Red curls were piled atop her head in a loose bundle, and her fair skin glistened with a translucent silver powder. She wore two pieces of jewelry; an emerald ring on the middle finger of her left hand, and a rose-shaped locket around her neck.

Ginny smiled and looked Blaise up and down. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” she said, taking obvious note of the way his white tux complemented his dark features.

Blaise just smirked wider and took her arm, leading her forward into the ballroom. “Come on then, we can’t keep them waiting all night.”

People stared as they walked along, often casting Ginny half-incredulous looks before Blaise made them turn away with a glance. He led her straight through the flocks of onlookers to an extravagant group of Hogwarts teenagers. Out of the ten already there, only one other wasn’t a Slytherin. Draco was standing with his back to the approaching pair, telling an apparently entertaining story about ‘Potty and the Weasel King.’ Blaise tapped his friend on the shoulder, and he turned.

The look in Draco’s eyes as he got his first look at her sent shivers down Ginny’s spine, but she was also all too aware of the dirty looks she was receiving from the others present. Surprisingly, Draco made the first move.

“Ginny,” he said smoothly, grasping her hand with his own gloved one and bending to kiss her cheek. “So glad you could make it.”

Ginny had all she could do not to just stand and gape at him, both because he’d just kissed her and because he looked so good in that black tux. She understood, however, the appearance he had to keep up, and so gave his hand a little squeeze and smiled graciously.

“I’m incredibly honored to be here, Draco. Thank you very much for having me.”

“Drakie,” a whiney voice broke in, tinged with more than a little jealousy. “What is she doing here?”

Draco released Ginny’s hand and turned back to the group. “I invited her, of course. Everyone, you know Ginevra Weasley. I trust you’ll make her feel welcome.”

The looks coming at her from the Slytherin teenagers were anything but welcoming. The other non-Slythie, however, rose gracefully from her chair and walked toward Ginny. The girl was about Blaise’s height, with long dark hair that almost looked black. Her eyes were the same color, and her smooth chocolate features were nothing short of stunning.

“Hi,” she said, holding her hand out to shake Ginny’s. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Gin, this is my cousin, Natasha Zabini,” Blaise put in, looking pleased. “She’s playing Meg Giry in the show, so you might want to get to know her.”

“He can never stop raving about you,” the girl said, flashing a half-annoyed, half-adoring smile at her cousin. “Every time I see him, it’s ‘Ginny this,’ ‘Ginny that,’ ‘OH MY GOSH have you heard Ginny sing?’ It's quite funny, actually.”

Ginny blinked and gave an enchantingly embarrassed smile. “Wow, I’m flattered. Why haven’t I seen you before, though?”

“Oh, I’m in Ravenclaw. Quite the little family disgrace, too, but I haven’t been disowned, because I wasn’t placed in Gryffindor. No offense.”

Blaise opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a chillingly smooth voice.

“Draco, we specifically invite a guest and you don’t even let us see her? That won’t do at all.” Ginny spun gradually and came face to face with one Lucius Malfoy, looking down at her with what he probably thought was a friendly smile. “How are you, Miss Weasley?”

She reluctantly placed her hand in his gloved one, and fought back a grimace as he raised it to his lips. “I can’t complain, sir. And yourself?”

“Quite well, quite well. May I introduce my wife, Narcissa Malfoy?” He stood aside and a tall, slim woman came forward, her beautiful face contorted into a derisive smile.

“How do you do, Mrs. Malfoy?” She asked politely, shaking hands with the detestable woman.

“I am well, thank you.”

“I wonder, Miss Weasley, if you might treat us with a little song?” Lucius took back over the conversation, a slightly challenging look rising in his eyes. “Draco tells me you’re quite the little song bird.”

So here it was. This was the reason she’d been invited: to be publicly humiliated in front of the entirety of Slytherin house. On either side of her, Blaise and Draco were arguing, politely, with the head of the house.

“Father, I really don’t think-”

“Now, Mr. Malfoy, please-”

“I'd be delighted, Mr. Malfoy,” Ginny broke in, meeting the challenge in those cold eyes head on. “It's an honor.”

---

A few minutes later, she found herself on stage in front of a silent crowd of people. Draco had warned her to choose a song that his father would approve of, but Ginny had no intention of following this advice. She spoke quietly to the band, then took a deep breath as they began to play.

“Do you remember me?

I sat upon your knee.

I wrote to you

With childhood fantasies.

Well, I’m all grown up now,

And still need help somehow.

I’m not a child,

But my heart still can dream.

So, here’s my lifelong wish,

My grown up Christmas list.

Not for myself,

But for a world in need.”

She found Draco and Blaise in the crowd, the former looking worriedly in his father’s direction, the latter nodding at her encouragingly.

“No more lives torn apart,

And wars would never start,

And time would heal the heart.

Everyone would have a friend,

And right would always win,

And love would never end.

This is my grown up Christmas list.”

Her eyes found Natasha’s as she began the second verse, and the girl was smiling amidst a crowd of frowning Slytherins.

“As children we believed

The grandest sight to see

Was something lovely,

Wrapped beneath our tree.”

Ginny looked directly at Lucius Malfoy as she sang the next part, forcing the pain of all the families he’d torn apart and the hearts that he’d broken into her eyes.

“Well, Heaven only knows

That packages and bows

Can never heal

A hurting human soul.

No more lives torn apart,

And wars would never start,

And time would heal the heart.

Everyone would have a friend,

And right would always win,

And love would never end.

This is my grown up Christmas list.”

Ginny found the youngest person in the room, a very small boy gazing up at her with wide, wondering eyes.

“What is this illusion called the innocence of youth?

Only in our blind belief can we ever find the truth.”

Ginny’s words separated more as her throat filled with tears. She threw her head back, blinking furiously as she tried to regain a hold on her emotions.

“There’d be no more lives torn apart,

And wars would never start,

And time would heal the heart.

Everyone would have a friend,

And right would always win,

And love would never end.

This is my grown up Christmas list.”

Ginny held her hand out to the little boy as she rebelled against everything the Slytherins believed in, her heart soaring as he came to her, and her voice ringing above the silence in an unforgettable forte.

“No more lives torn apart,

And wars would never start,

And time would heal the heart.

Everyone would have a friend,

And right would always win,

And love would never end.

This is my grown up Christmas list,

It’s all I’m asking this Christmas.”

With a single tear rolling down her cheek, Ginny’s eyes locked with Draco’s, and they spoke of a contempt for the world he knew.

“This is my grown up Christmas list.”

Chapter 17- No Good Deed

The last bars of music faded, and Ginny hugged the little boy briefly, kissing the top of his tow-colored head. Feeling strongly that she was going to cry, Ginny walked off the stage to stunned silence. As her heels hit the floor, a stilted whispering began among the people nearest her, spreading quickly to the farthest corners of the room. She reached the group of teenagers she’d been standing with before the song and was greeted with stony faces. After a moment, Blaise broke through the crowd and jumped her.

“You were great up there, Ginny,” he said, ignoring the others staring daggers at him. “Way to be!”

Ginny gave him a slightly sick smile and opened her mouth to reply. Whatever she was about to say was lost in the sudden commotion.

“Silencio! Crucio!”

Draco and Blaise took off across the room toward the sound, Ginny hot on their heels. As they both screeched to a halt, she ran into them and caught sight of what was happening.

The little boy who had come to sing with her was cringing on the floor, mouth open in a silent scream. A man, his father, stood over him, wand held aloft. A terrible expression adorned his face as he tortured his son. As Ginny’s horror grew by the moment, the mass of Slytherins standing around them looked on in approval, and Draco’s only reaction was being a good deal paler than usual. Blaise looked as though he was about to be sick, and Natasha had tears rolling silently down her cheeks, but neither moved beyond an involuntary twitching.

“Stop it,” Ginny screamed, throwing herself at the agonized boy. Draco caught her across the chest with both arms to hold her back, and she willed all her limbs to attack any available part of him. “No, let me go! Stop! Stop it!”

“Ginny.” Draco’s breath came out in a gasp, and he grunted as one of her flailing arms caught him in the jaw. “Ginny, stop! You can’t do anything!”

“Let me go!” Ginny’s throat grew raw as the words tore from her mouth. “You bastard, let me go!”

Draco grabbed her mouth with one large hand, forcing her jaws closed with great difficulty. When he, with Blaise’s help, had her reasonably under control, Draco turned to his father.

“Father, please. This is hardly appropriate for a Christmas party.”

Lucius looked down on the pair of young men and the struggling Ginny for a long moment. “Xavier.”

The torturous father looked up, still holding his son under the curse. “Yes?”

“How you punish your children in the privacy of your own home is one thing; I won’t have my gathering ruined by one misbehaving child. Stop.”

The man looked for a moment as though he was going to refuse, but nodded at length and lifted his wand. The boy sagged to the floor, sobbing.

“As you wish it, Lucius. I can see where that would be considered bad taste.”

Ginny tried to push Draco’s arms away from her chest and start for the child, but he held her tightly.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his lips less than an inch from her ear. “It’ll be worse for him later if you do.”

---

Ginny lay on Draco’s bed, shoes kicked off, dress rumpled.

“I don’t get it,” she sniffed, wiping at the already dry tear trails on her cheeks. She shifted red, swollen eyes to Blaise, sitting on the far corner of the queen-size bed. “What did he do that was so wrong?”

“He supported you when you were going against every Slytherin policy in the book. That’s a pretty serious offense.”

“But he’s so young, barely past a baby. Surely toddlers are allowed a little more license than that.”

“Purebloods are expected to act as such at all times,” Draco said as he entered the room, pulling the door shut behind him. “Youth is no excuse.”

“Damn, I’m in trouble.” Ginny pushed herself into a sitting position, crossing her legs Indian-style. “Still, that’s so cruel.”

Blaise snorted, rising from the bed and straightening his tie. “Welcome to the world of the ‘true purebloods’.”

Draco gave a quiet chuckle and reached out his hand to help Ginny up. “Come on, we’re wanted downstairs.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Look at the state of me.”
Blaise pulled out his wand and pointed it at her hair.

“Reparo.”

The curls flew back into their elegant fountain, perfect once more. Blaise looked stunned.

“Wow, it actually worked,” he said, quickly doing the same thing with her makeup. “I was just messing around.”

---

Ginny was absentmindedly staring into space during breakfast when she heard Lupin’s voice as he read the Daily Prophet.

“Arthur, did you read this? A two year-old named Teddy Stafford was admitted to St. Mungo’s last night, delirious from a serious head injury sustained during a treacherous fall down the stairs. The doctor who examined him, however, says that he has cranial injuries that are much too severe for that, and thinks he’ll probably have the mind of a two year-old for the rest of his life. He’s the son of Xavier Stafford, a Slytherin long suspected of being a Death Eater and now suspected of performing the Cruciatus Curse on his son.”

Ginny felt her head drop, eyes slipping closed as it fell. The voices around her jumbled together and the faces hazed. Suddenly she was the only one in the room who understood the meaning of true pain. Tears blurred her vision, and she felt them dripping from behind her closed lids.

Hermione, who had been listening to Lupin talk and had heard the whole story about last night from Ginny, was the only one who noticed her friend’s sudden upset. Wordlessly, and somehow without attracting attention, she helped Ginny up and guided her from the room. They went up the stone stairs of the Headquarters and into the bedroom they shared. The moment they were inside, Ginny collapsed on the bed, sobbing.

“It’s all my fault, Hermione. Oh God, it’s all my fault!”

As Ginny berated herself, Hermione raised her friend’s left hand and peered keenly at the ring on the middle finger. The emerald was glowing faintly, and quickly getting brighter. The girls watched in amazement as the radiance grew, until the entire room was filled with white light. All at once, sapphire blue sparks began shooting from the stone, and Ginny yelled out in pain.

“Ow! It’s. . .burning,” She gasped in disbelief, staring at the simmering metal. Hermione, however, was more concerned with something else.

“Blaise is signaling you, Ginny. Go, go.”

The red head leapt to her feet and stumbled into the fireplace. Before she could even turn around to look at Hermione, Ginny was swept away up the chimney. She caught flashes of other rooms as she went, wizarding homes. After what felt like an eternity- but had really only been a few minutes- she fell out of the grate of Blaise’s guest room at Malfoy Manor.

“Ginny!” Blaise jumped from where he was squatting by the fireplace and caught her as she fell. “I signaled as soon as I read the paper.” He pulled her across the room and sat them both down on his bed. “Listen, this isn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Ginny replied, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

Blaise firmly grasped both her shoulders and gave her a shake. “No, it’s not. The person at fault for this is Xavier Stafford, one of the most contemptible men alive.”

“No!” Ginny snapped at Blaise, and his eyes widened in surprise. “This is my fault, Blaise. Don't try to deny it! I made a mistake and a two year-old will never get the chance to experience life because of it. Stop trying to soften the blow, it’s not going to work!”

“Ginny, you can’t control that man’s obsession with perfection! Teddy’s mind is obliterated because Xavier Stafford can’t keep a lid on his temper!”

“But don’t you see it, Blaise? His temper wouldn’t have been ignited in the first place if I hadn’t been so set on making Lucius Malfoy mad! God, why couldn’t I have controlled my temper just that once?”

A knock sounded at the door, and Draco walked in.

“Somehow I figured you’d be here after the Daily Prophet came out this morning. Come with me.”

---

“What are we doing here,” Ginny asked, looking around at the room in surprise.

“I know you well enough by this point to know that music calms you down better than anything else,” Draco answered, shuffling through the music on the piano stand. After a moment, he took out his wand, waved it, and the piano began playing the sheet music. A loud, hard rock beat came in, and Ginny joined it without thinking, knowing the song well.

“Fiyero!

Eleka Nahmen Nahmen

At Tum Ah Tum Eleka Nahmen

Eleka Nahmen Nahmen

At Tum Ah Tum Eleka Nahmen

Let his flesh not be torn

Let his blood leave no stain

Though they beat him let him feel no pain

Let his bones never break

And however they try

To destroy him

Let him never die

Let him never die”

Ginny choked, the lump of tears in her throat making her gasp for air. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and more than half the song passed before she was able to sing again.

“One question haunts and hurts

Too much, too much to mention:

Was I really seeking good

Or just seeking attention?

Is that all good deeds are

When looked at with an ice-cold eye?

If that’s all good deeds are

Maybe that’s the reason why. . .

No good deed goes unpunished

All helpful urges should be circumvented

No good deed goes unpunished

Sure, I meant well

Well, look at what well-meant did. . ."

She half-sang, half-yelled those lines at Blaise, throwing the defense he’d offered her back in his face. The agony and hurt in his eyes caught her, and Ginny’s knees just gave out; she hit the floor sobbing.

Chapter 19- The Point of No Return

"It’s worthless, Draco!” Ginny was beginning to lose patience with the maddening calm in his eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything, and I refuse to be a part of it! I wasn’t raised to be just ‘friends with benefits,’ and I don’t intend to start now!”

Draco’s head lifted slightly, obviously considering her. “After a few long, slightly awkward moments, he seemed to reach his decision. “Alright. Which do we do?”

Ginny’s jaw dropped. “You did not just say that.”

“I’m pretty sure I did.”

“No, you can’t have, because that would mean you’re a complete and total moron. How can you not realize which we should do?”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I know what we should do. I was merely asking your opinion; I thought that would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Oh, aren’t you just the perfect little aristocrat?”

“I tend to think so, yes.”

“So, tell me what we should do, oh one of unsurpassed wisdom.”

“Become a couple, of course. What else would we do?”

Ginny just stared… and stared… and stared. “W- we should what?!”

Draco’s brows climbed higher. “What did you honestly expect me to say, Ginny? Surprisingly enough, I do enjoy spending time with you.”

That little comment snapped Ginny out of her shocked reverie. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“Suit yourself.”

“So… are we a couple now?”

“I guess so.”

And they just sat in silence for a long time, both trying to grasp the concept that they were now ‘official’ with a former arch-enemy.

---

When Draco and Ginny walked into practice that night holding hands- albeit somewhat awkwardly- Blaise was the first one to spot them. “I knew it! I knew there was something going on with you two! Of course- hem hem- I did orchestrate a lot of it, so it’s not exactly a surprise, but…”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Blaise, for not only drawing every eye in the room, but also announcing it loud enough for the entire school to hear.”

Blaise gave a mock bow. “You’re welcome, you’re welcome. It was no problem at all, really.”

Draco, who really hadn’t been listening to the exchange, nudged Ginny and nodded toward the rest of the cast. “Look.”

Nearly every other person in the room had their head together with someone else’s and was pointing and whispering at the unusual pair; Ginny squirmed uncomfortably. “I have to admit, I wasn’t quite ready for this.”

Ginny caught sight of Ron heading their direction with a very angry look on his face, but Hermione- bless her- chose just that moment to issue a loud bang with her wand; Patrick nodded his thanks from where he stood at the front of the room.

“As you all realize-hopefully- performances start less than two weeks from today, so we’ll be doing things a little differently from here on out. Everyone will beat all rehearsals from now on, no matter if we’re working on scenes you’re in or not. Madame Zizi will be here on Thursday and Friday,” Patrick paused as all the dancers moaned, then resumed when they had quieted. “To make sure your dancing is up to par. Mara should show up sometime next week for last minute costume adjustments, and she’ll be here before every performance to avert any minor catastrophes. Dress rehearsals start next Monday. Minor parts, you need to come see me if I haven’t approved your hairstyle for the show yet. Hermione, Draco, Ginny, Blaise, and Natasha- I need to see you in the dressing room. Everyone else needs to be working on your dances or songs or doing something else that will keep you from killing each other.”

The five Patrick had mentioned got up and followed him to the dressing room, while the rest of the cast instantly started talking about everything but the musical.

“We need to work all the problems with your costumes out," Patrick began when they were inside." So I want to see them all. Draco, Blaise- whatever outfit we see you first in. Ginny, Natasha- your chorus girl Hannibal costumes.”

Hermione stood from where she was sitting beside the door and pulled out her wand. She waved it over the four people collectively, cool sparks shooting from the tip. Suddenly, Ginny’s head was covered in thick brown curls, pulled half up and held by a gold clip. Natasha’s skin had become quite fair, and her dark hair was now blonde, something she looked positively alarmed about. Draco’s hair became jet black, creating quite a contrast with his pale skin.

Blaise, however, took the cake for biggest change. His dark African skin turned white, and his short black hair grew long, fading to a light brown. Well the other occupants of the room stared in wonder, including Hermione and Patrick, Blaise just looked at himself in the mirror… and laughed.

“I’m white, guys!”

---

About fifteen minutes later, Ginny knelt on stage by herself, waiting for Draco to emerge from behind her. As much as she wouldn’t admit it out loud, a lot of these costumes made her uncomfortable. The red skirt she was wearing at the moment was long enough, but the black corset top that went with it clung to every curve. It didn’t help that the sides of her thick brown hair were pulled back, so her bare shoulders had no covering.

Draco’s tenor suddenly crept up behind her, the violins playing along with his hushed, seductive voice. Ginny had to admit that she wasn’t listening to what he was singing about at all; he sounded too downright sexy for her to care what he was saying.

Long before it seemed time, Draco was finishing and Ginny’s cues were being played.

“You have brought me

To that moment where words run dry,

To that moment where speech disappears into silence,

Silence.

I have come here

Hardly knowing the reason why,

In my mind I’ve already imagined

Our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent

And now I am here with you,

No second thoughts, I’ve decided,

Decided.”

Ginny’s voice grew with the intensity of the music, and she and Draco went to opposite sides of the stage. They slowly climbed winding staircases, with Ginny singing as they went.

“Past the point of no return,

No going back now,

Our passion play has no at last begun.

Past all thought of right or wrong,

One final question: how long should we two wait before we’re one?

When will the blood begin to race?

The sleeping bud burst into bloom?

When will the flames at last consume us?”

Draco and Ginny stepped out onto the catwalk at the exact same time, voices blending together in a swirling, soaring chorus. The music grew as the key changed, and nothing else moved in the room.

“Past the point of no return,

The final threshold,

The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn.”

Ginny spun into Draco and he held her there, hands splayed across her stomach as the music slowed. Blaise- playing his part- watched them with tear-filled eyes, and Hermione and Natasha were caught between dread and amazement. The last lines were delivered into deathly silence.

“We’ve passed the point of no return.”

Chapter 20- Exhausting Days

Everyone in the cast was passed out on the floor of the auditorium, exhaustion finally taking its toll. The show opened in 18 hours. After this weekend, Ginny would have no excuse for seeing Draco all the time; then everyone who didn’t already know they were a couple would figure it out.

Ginny sighed and flopped down onto the floor from where she’d been sitting, deep in thought. How weird was this whole thing? She was dating Draco freaking Malfoy for Heaven’s sake, and she was a Weasley. The only thing wackier than that would be if Voldemort renounced his reign of terror and married Tonks. In other words, it was the weirdest possible thing to happen.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t that messed up. After all, there was the old saying ‘Opposites Attract.’ Ginny snorted to herself. That should probably become their tagline or their motto or something. It really fit.

A moment later, Ginny jumped as Natasha sat up growling. The now-blonde ran her fingers through the knots in her hair agitatedly.

“God Ginny, do you think you’ll be able to fall asleep any time soon? It’s freaking one o’clock in the morning.”

Ginny winced; she hadn’t realized she was tossing and turning so much until just now. “Sorry, Natasha; I didn’t realize I was being that loud.”

Natasha sighed, pushing her hair back over one shoulder. “It’s alright. What’re you thinking about? Is it the show?”

“What makes you think I’m thinking about anything?”

Natasha just raised an eyebrow. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you’re just sitting here awake when you’re absolutely exhausted?”

Ginny looked sheepish. “No, I guess not.”

“So, what’s up?”

“Nothing in particular,” Ginny lied, thinking that she had to get a better poker face.

“Oh, yes there is,” Natasha replied matter-of-factly, tapping her lips with a finger. “Now let’s see, what could it be…” She grinned suddenly. “Draco.”

Ginny’s answer was as good as admittance. “I was just thinking about how weird it is that we’re together when we’re so different.”

“I think that’s what makes you good together. You’ll balance each other out.”

Ginny didn’t reply right away. “What’s your honest opinion of us as a couple? Do you think we’re crazy for even trying it?”

Natasha shook her head immediately. “I think you’re thinking that way because of how the Malfoys and Weasleys have always been stereotyped as arch-enemies. In my absolutely blatant, honest-to-God opinion, you guys are great together. That’s the truth.”

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief; here was at least one person who didn’t think she and Draco were nutcases.

Natasha watched Ginny for a moment, analyzing the emotions running across her friend’s face. “Are you doubting it?”

“Kind of. But at the same time, I’d never give it up.”

Natasha glanced across the floor to where Blaise and Draco were sleeping, still in their costumes. “Just trust your own judgment, Gin. Everyone else will learn to accept it with time.”

---

“Ginny? Hello, Earth to Ginny. Ginny!”

The red head opened her eyes slowly and groggily, peering at whoever was rudely waking her up. The second he was sure she was awake and listening, the person launched into a very loud, very off-key song.

“Good morning, beautiful. How was your night? Mine was so wonderful with you by my side. And I open my eyes to see your sweet face. It’s a good morning beautiful day!”

Ginny groaned and punched the person lightly on the arm as she sat up. “It’s way too early in the morning for singing that bad, Blaise.”

Blaise actually looked offended, and Ginny mentally praised his acting abilities. “It most certainly was not bad,” he replied indignantly, pulling her too her feet. “I was sweetly serenading you.”

“Blaise, that had to have been the most hideous thing known to mankind.”

“I don’t know,” he replied doubtfully. “Have you ever seen yourself in the morning?”

Blaise ran for the door as his words sank into Ginny’s still-groggy brain. He was nearly there when her leg bind caught up with him.

“Why Blaise, did you trip?” Ginny asked sweetly as she stepped over his fallen form. “My goodness, you are a clumsy fellow.”

She was halfway down the corridor before Blaise caught up to her, walking gingerly and rubbing his backside.
“Very funny, Gin,” he said irately. “Way to injure me the day of the show.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and continued toward the Great Hall, her nose leading her toward the smell of breakfast. “Oh, poor baby,” she said sarcastically. “I think you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know,” Blaise replied doubtfully. “I think I broke my butt bone.”

---

Ginny stood on the stage ten hours later, listening to the sounds of the audience queuing up outside the auditorium. Doors opened in fifteen minutes, and the show started 45 minutes after that. Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach.

Draco caught sight of his girlfriend and made a beeline for her, seeing her nerves as he drew closer. “Are you okay?”

Ginny let out her breath slowly, shaking her head. “I will be. Eventually. I’m really nervous.”

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Patrick’s voice rang out over the room. “Draco, Ginny, you need to warm up.”

“I wonder what we’re doing today.”

Patrick had a long-standing tradition of having the main trio warm up to a different Broadway song every day. This time, however, Blaise remained where he was sitting, grinning broadly. When Ginny glanced at him questioningly, his smile just grew, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

When the music started, the reason for that twinkle became evident. Draco glanced around at the cast, many of whom looked surprised at the song choice, then spoke to Patrick. “Where’d this crap come from?”

“It’s got similar ranges to what you have to sing in the show.” When he saw Draco and Ginny were looking ready to kill, Patrick quickly pointed at the missing trio member. “It was Blaise’s idea.”

Draco and Ginny directed their glares at Blaise, who shrugged. “Everyone’s going to find out sooner or later. Might as well be now.”

Draco began to argue, but Ginny laid a hand on his arm; she was honestly enjoying the choice of song. “It’s a good song, Draco. Just sing it. Please?”

By the time he nodded, albeit reluctantly, Ginny’s opening solo was done and Draco’s was beginning.

“If you were smart, you would keep on walking

Out of my life as fast as you can

I'm not the one you should pin your hopes on

You're falling for the wrong kind of man

This is crazy! You know we should call it a day

Sound advice, great advice

Let's throw it away

I can't control all the things I'm feeling

I haven't got a prayer”

Ginny couldn’t hold back an awed sigh; his control of that note was amazing and absolutely gorgeous.

“If I'm a fool, well,

I'm too much in love to care”

The atmosphere melted away as Draco stopped singing, speaking in quietly furious tones to Ginny. “These lyrics are going to make me gag.” Ginny started to reply, but then stopped herself; it wasn’t worth fighting over. Just a few bars later, her part began again.

“Please, can you tell me what's happening?

I just don't know anymore

If this is real, how should I feel?

What should I look for?

I thought I had everything I needed

My life was set, my dreams were in place

My heart could see way into the future

All of that goes when I see your face”

Draco’s stiff posture began to relax a bit, and Ginny had to smile as she sang the next lines, her earlier conversation with Natasha floating back to mind.

“I should hate you

There I was, the world in my hand

Can one kiss, kiss away

Everything I planned?

I can't control all the things I'm feeling

I'm floating in mid-air

I know it's wrong, but,

I'm too much in love to care”

Ginny was pleasantly surprised when, at the next refrain, Draco began to sing, too. He was still grimacing at the sappy lyrics, but there was a look in his eyes telling Ginny that the song meant something to him, too.

"I thought I had everything I needed

My life was set, my dreams were in place

My heart could see way into the future

All of that goes when I see your face

This is crazy! You know we should call it a day

Sound advice

Great advice

Let's throw it away...”

Music that had quieted a moment before rang into a forte, and Ginny closed her eyes, pushing out the music that was ringing so familiar.

“I can't control all the things I'm feeling

We're floating in mid-air

If we are fools, well,

We're too much in love to care

If we are fools, well,

We're too much in love to care!”