It was disgusting, the way he felt. It was irritating, not to mention ridiculous, and it was driving him mad. There was no reason for it, no purpose, and it simply made no sense. It was unnatural, strange, and unwarranted, and he pledged to himself in that moment, as he twirled a small twig between his fingers and stared across the lake at the spectacle, that he would put a stop to it. If it was the last thing he did, he would end this freak show. By the end of the week, he decided, his attraction to the freckle faced, hot tempered, irritatingly attractive she weasel would be gone.

She was everything he hated. Coppery red hair and freckles on a girl who never wore nice clothes, never fixed her hair, and never wore makeup should not be attractive, but somehow it was. To top it all off, she had the trademark Weasley temper, and tendency to explode into fits of rage and send Bat-Bogey Hexes at people. From what he gathered, she could be very difficult and stubborn, also, although he never really spent much time talking to her. It wasn't in his nature to talk to Weasleys, as a rule, which was why these feelings he had were totally improper.

But, considering that he'd never really had much in the way of conversation with her, he did know quite a bit about her. She was a smart girl, but because she spent so much time in the company of the golden trio and in the shadow of Granger, she got very little recognition for it, even though she was taking sixth-year Potions in her fifth year. He also knew that she was popular, as she was seen talking to different people in all Houses. It was also obvious that she had a good sense of humor, and was a blast to be around. This he knew from simply observing her. But the thing that made her unattainable and irritating was that she belonged to him.

Maybe that's why he was so drawn to her, though. Maybe the fact that Ginny Weasley was Harry Potter's girl was the reason she was so attractive. Perhaps simply the prospect that there could be a slight chance of stealing her from him made her that much more desirable.

He heard a rustle of leaves and then heard someone flop down in the grass beside him. Knowing instinctively who it was, he didn't even bother to turn and look at his best friend who was stretching out on the bare ground. "Hello, Zabini," Draco said, his eyes still glued to Ginny and a sneer still plastered on his face.

"Still checking out the Weaselette?" Blaise asked casually, noticing Draco's line of vision. It was humorous to Blaise that his friend thought his staring was discreet, and so he always made a point of acknowledging it. "She looks nice today," he added as an afterthought. Blaise always did think she was attractive, at least for a Weasley.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "She's a Weasley," he replied casually. "I wouldn't waste my time looking at her."

Blaise rolled his eyes. Anyone who observed Draco could see that he spent a good majority of the time looking at her, but he was quite used to the blond-haired Slytherin boy, and he knew by now that there was little sense in arguing the point. He knew that Draco had far too much Malfoy pride to ever admit it outside of his own thoughts.

The two Slytherin boys continued to stare across the lake in silence for a long stretch of time. Nothing interesting was really happening. Ginny and Harry were sitting together on a blanket on the opposite side of the lake. He was holding her against him, and they were staring up into the sky as sunset approached. Draco watched as Ginny began to shiver with the cold, autumn air, and then saw the Gryffindor boy adorn his girlfriend's shoulder with his thick, black cloak. She looked up and smiled appreciatively as she snuggled back against him. Harry planted kisses against the top of her red head as they, together, looked back up at the sky. The whole scene disturbed Draco much more than he would have liked to admit.

Soon, dinnertime approached. The jealous boy continued to monitor the happy couple as they walked, hand in bloody Gryffindor hand, back toward the castle and into the Great Hall. It wasn't until they were only meters away from the entrance of their destination that something interesting finally happened. Ginny had just pushed Harry off her and was currently standing before him, arms crossed over her chest, as she spoke to him so loudly that Draco and Blaise were both able to hear from a rather expansive distance away.

"Harry James Potter, I may be your girlfriend, but that does not give you the right to make decisions for me!" she shouted. "Believe it or not, I do have homework to do and classes to study for. I will be spending the evening at the library, not being paraded around on your arm at some bloody House party!" Her arms remained crossed, and she stared at him intently, daring him to reply to her outburst.

It was obvious, to everyone who was standing around watching in amusement at the scene unfolding, that Harry hadn't been expecting the sudden outburst. This alone was not enough, however, to deter the students, who were now circling them, from watching intently. Blaise, and Draco particularly, were also enjoying the show.

Harry put up his arms defensively. "Ginny, really, I wasn't trying to offend you," he told her, his demeanor much calmer than hers. "I just thought you might want to be my date. Besides, it is Friday night, and I have never seen you study on a Friday night before."

His statements did not appear to calm her in the slightest. "So just because I don't usually study on a Friday night automatically means that I won't be? I am your girlfriend, yes, but I don't need your approval before I go off and study." She laughed at herself, a loud chuckle escaping her lips. "It isn't like I'm going to sneak off and secretly meet up with Malfoy or something," she added.

The Gryffindor boy began to laugh, as well. Noticing that she was now appearing slightly less tense, he pulled at her arm and drew her in for a hug. She playfully resisted at first, but then she returned the gesture. The pair then proceeded to enter into the Great Hall, arms slung across each other's waists, and all of the tension had officially subsided.

From across the foyer, Draco was watching, his mouth agape. "Seriously!" he exclaimed, his words directed at Blaise, who was looking on as well. "All that bint has to do is mention my name and the two of them are all lovey-dovey again?" He turned to his friend, frustrated at his own thoughts. "And what in the bloody hell are you smirking at, Blaise? You think it's funny that my name gets tossed around like that?"

Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, mate," he said, not even attempting to hide his amusement. "I think it's funny that you are, clearly, obsessed with getting that girl, and in one second, without even speaking to you, she shoots you down in front of half of the school. Honestly, mate, don't you think you ought to just forget her? She is obviously in love with Potter and has no interest in you."

If only it were that simple, Draco thought as they sat down together at the Slytherin table. As he shoveled Shepherd's Pie onto his plate, he glanced up and noticed that the pair in question were in his direct line of vision. Suddenly feeling full, he stopped filling his plate. "I've lost my appetite," he said, watching Ginny giggle as Harry tickled her sides mercilessly. "I'll be in the library if you need me," he added, directed at no one specifically.

Blaise wondered to himself how much of Harry and Ginny's argument Draco had actually heard. If he had heard much at all, chances are he would not have been heading to the library, as the littlest Weasley had clearly indicated she would be there for the majority of the evening. He shrugged, but kept to himself. This should definitely be interesting.

The library was usually empty by this time of the day. It was a Friday and dinner was already over. Most students were in their common rooms, enjoying the fact that there were now two whole days without class. This was the main reason why she was here. For Ginny, it was much more appealing to sit in an empty library and actually get homework done, rather than endure another Gryffindor House party.

Gryffindor had turned into the party House of Hogwarts. Almost every weekend, students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would come to their common room an hour before curfew, and stay until the wee hours of the morning. Once the party was over, students from outside of Gryffindor would sneak back to their respective dorms in small groups. How nobody had ever gotten caught, and how none of the professors at Hogwarts had yet to hear of the frequent parties, Ginny did not know.

The first few parties of her fifth year had been fun, but by early November, having a ton of rowdy teenagers hanging about was getting to be monotonous. Thus, Ginny decided that this weekend she would skip. Instead of hanging on Harry's arm for hours, waiting for enough people to clear out so that she could fall asleep in peace, she decided she'd rather sit alone in the library. Alone time sounded wonderful.

Her favorite table was in the far left corner of the library, near the stacks. Setting her backpack on the table, she took off her robes and slung them over the back of the chair. She pulled out her Potions textbook and began perusing the shelves, supplementing her textbook. This year was difficult for her in Potions because Snape asked her to skip ahead one year. Knowing that she was a very skilled Potioneer, she agreed. She also realized that this would be a great opportunity for her because she could do Potions research in place of class during her seventh year.

"Oh, sorry!" she said as she bumped into someone between the stacks. She had the bad habit of walking around the shelves with her nose in a book, and so she was completely unaware that any other person was nearby. She looked up to apologize further, but her face quickly turned into a scowl when she realized who was beside her.

"Watch where you're going, Weasley," Draco said with a sneer.

"What are you doing in the library, Malfoy?" Ginny asked. She was surprised that she wasn't alone, but she was even more shocked that it was Draco who was present. It was well known amongst the populous that Draco hardly ever frequented the library because he did not get on well with Madam Pince.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Am I not permitted to be here?" he asked irritably. "Maybe you are the one who should be careful. If Saint Potter were to come by, he might think you were sneaking off to secretly meet with me."

Ginny's cheeks reddened slightly. "You heard that?" she wondered, somewhat sheepishly. "Why were you listening in on my personal conversation, Malfoy?" she asked with a bit more conviction after a moment's pause.

"A tip, Weasel. If you don't want anyone to hear you, perhaps you might keep down the volume."

Her eyes narrowed at him. She studied the boy for a brief moment, actually wondering how upset he was at her comment. Desperately, she searched for something to say - something witty or snarky - but nothing ever came. Instead, she weakly said, "I was not being loud."

Draco snorted. "So why aren't you at the little Gryffindor party? I would have thought for sure that you'd have wanted to be shown off by Potter, especially since it took so long for you to finally catch his eye."

"You know, Malfoy, maybe if you minded your own business about things that don't concern you, some people might actually like you." She placed her hands on her hips and looked up to him. "Honestly, you don't know a thing about me, or the type of relationship that I have with my boyfriend."

"What I know, Weasley, is that you pined after him for years before he ever gave you the time of day," Draco said smoothly, taking a step toward her and inching her closer to the bookshelf. "Pretty little thing like you, I'd have thought maybe you would have been able to move on to someone better and bigger." He smirked at her, seeing the nervousness in her eyes at their proximity. "Do tell, Weasel, what is Potter like in bed?"

She lifted her chin. "Jealous, Malfoy?" she asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Maybe you wished you could have gotten to me first?"

"Are you saying that you have slept with him?"

"Maybe I have, but perhaps I haven't," she countered. "Why do you care either way? And why would I discuss any of this with you when you don't even know my first name."

"I am curious, Ginny."

She rolled her eyes. "I haven't slept with Harry, and I don't plan to. I'm saving myself for marriage, and Harry knows that."

"Already planning your white wedding?" he asked, the tone of his voice indicative of his amusement. "Have you begun sending out the invitations? Will I be invited? Let me know in advance if there is a theme; I wouldn't want to appear dressed in the wrong color."

"You think you're something special, don't you?" Ginny asked, lengthening her spine to reach her full height. Her eyes narrowed at him, and she glared with a force that would scare anyone. "For your information, Draco, just because I have morals and I believe in something, that does not mean that I am by any means innocent. I know a lot about you and your history with Hogwarts tramps, and your opinion of my choices does not mean a damn thing to me."

It was Draco's turn to become aggravated. "All you know is what others have said. The truth you do not know." The deadly sound of his voice matched the gleam in his eye.

Not knowing what to say, and not caring enough to take the time to sort through the options, Ginny snarled at the Slytherin boy before stalking away. Truth be told, she couldn't help but feel a bit badly for the last remark she made. Being the only girl in her very outgoing family, she knew what it was like to be stereotyped, and it wasn't fair to make assumptions of Draco based on rumors. Sure, she knew for a fact that he was a vile little git with no redeeming qualities to his personality whatsoever, but that did not explain why. Maybe there was something beneath the surface of Draco Malfoy worth discovering. The way he told her that she knew nothing, and the way she saw that glowering bit of hurt taint his cold demeanor, told her that there was more to him than what everyone thought they knew. The question, then, was this slight bit of curiosity enough for her to pursue. Would it be worth it to be a bit nicer to him and discover what he was hiding?

She doubted it.

Ginny stalked away from him, leaving him to continue his perusal of the library bookshelves.

Draco watched her walk away, a plethora of emotions swarming his mind. She had insulted him by basing every single one of her opinions of him on rumors and his reputation. Not that all of said information was inaccurate, but some things that were said were simply untrue. On another hand, he felt badly that she had walked away from him, her nose turned up to the air as if she were so much better than him. She wasn't. Her good-girl image and morals did not make her any better. If anything, her attitude toward anyone who believed or acted differently put her below those who were willing to live by different standards while respecting the concept of choice.

But he couldn't deny to himself how much he wanted her, and he couldn't pretend that her attitude toward him wasn't hurtful. The fact was, she did not know him, and yet she was still unwilling to give him the chance to prove that he was different from how he was perceived. It was also irritating that the girl he wanted more than anything was attached at the hip to his very worst enemy. This seemed to be something that he wouldn't move on from very easily... or ever.

After several minutes of loitering in the stacks, and no longer remembering what book he was looking for in the first place, he went to his table. He noticed immediately that her bag and robes were nowhere in sight, and he realized that she had already left the library. Disappointment flooded him, and he knew that there was little to no chance that he'd get an opportunity to talk to her alone again any time soon. She was hardly ever seen about without either her boyfriend or her brother, or both, attached to her. He would have to continue to watch her from afar and pray that some day he could get her by herself and show her that he wasn't the boy she thought he was.

Or, perhaps there was another option.

*****

The Gryffindor common room was a mad house. Ginny couldn't decide if she would rather be in the library with Draco or in her common room full of rowdy, obnoxious people. She was actually contemplating going back and ignoring anything that Draco said to her, leaving before anyone even realized she had made an appearance, but before she could turn and leave, someone lightly grabbed onto her arm.

"Ginny, you came!" an excited Harry said when he noticed his girlfriend had come. He engulfed her into a hug, kissing her cheek tenderly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

She smiled at her boyfriend, knowing that he was probably exaggerating and hadn't even thought of her one time. Well, maybe once. "I couldn't find the books I needed in the library," she lied, as those very same books currently sat, nestling against her jumper, inside her backpack. "I decided I missed you too much to just sit around."

Harry grinned broadly and looped his arm around her slim waist, dragging her to a sofa in the center of the room where Ron and Hermione were currently situated.

They sat together, chatting happily for over an hour with their friends before the party began to wind down. Ron and Hermione went to their respective dorms, as well as several other Gryffindors. Some members of the other Houses began to leave, as well, but no one noticed the pair of Slytherins that entered.

"You know, Gin, I've been thinking," Harry said, leaning in close to his girlfriend and kissing her on the side of the neck. "I really, really care about you." He used his tongue and teeth against her neck and pushed her to a laying position on the sofa. "I want to be with you, Gin," he murmured between kisses. "I want you to be my first."

Ginny planted her hands firmly against his chest. "Harry, we've talked about this," she said. "I told you I don't want to do that until after I get married."

"But, Gin, you know we're going to be together forever. I want to marry you, have kids with you. What difference does it make if we do this now or in a few years?"

She pushed him away completely. "The difference, Potter, is that if you loved me and cared about me the way that you say you do, you'd respect me enough to not put pressure on me!"'

"I'm not trying to put pressure on you."

"But you are, and I feel very uncomfortable," Ginny said firmly, standing up from her position on the sofa. "You tell me that you love me and that I'm worth anything, but yet you still don't have enough respect for me to not try to get into my knickers in the middle of the common room! Until you understand that loving and respecting go hand in hand, I think we should take a break."

"You're breaking up with me?" Harry asked incredulously. "After everything we've gone through, you're leaving me?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not breaking up with you. I just need some time, and I think you do, too. Think about whether or not you're willing to wait for sex and decide if I'm worth that wait. But understand this," she said, softly brushing his cheek with her fingertips. "I do love you, and I hope that you feel like I'm worth it." Ginny gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before moving from the common room, down the stairs, and into her dormitory.

*****

Draco had a plan. He was going to go and stand at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, and he was going to wait. At some point in time, someone would either enter or exit the raging party that was no doubt occurring, and when that happened, he would walk in and find Ginny. When he found her, he would talk to her, and he would tell her off. Or, perhaps, he would confess that he thought she was so gorgeous that if he looked at her for too long, his eyes might actually burn and that he would love nothing more than to kiss her. He sincerely hoped that he went with the former.

In any case, he needed backup. He needed a friend who already knew that he couldn't stop thinking about Ginny Weasley and had a very unhealthy obsession with her. This, of course, left very few options.

Blaise was sitting in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, book in hand.

"Blaise!" Draco said in a way that demonstrated a little too openly how excited he was. "I need you to come with me to the Gryffindor party."

The darker boy lifted an eyebrow. "Well, I was trying to get ahead in Transfiguration," he said.

"I wasn't asking, Zabini," Draco said, tugging on the collar of his friend's robes. "Let's go." He continued to drag Blaise along for several minutes, until he was satisfied that his friend would not abandon him.

Blaise eyed his friend carefully, noticing that behind his scowl that there was an odd look of determination present. "Are you alright, mate?" he asked.

"That little harpy thinks she knows a thing or two about me," he sneered. "I'll show her."

"We are talking about Weaselette, right?"

"Obviously."

It didn't take much time for the portrait hole to open once the two Slytherin boys arrived. After only about five minutes, Cho Chang and a few other girls from Ravenclaw giggled their way from the party. They were so distracted that they failed to notice when Blaise and Draco snuck into the party behind them. The door slammed shut only a moment later, but they were already inside.

The party was still going strong, although it did look as though the action had died down some. There were still about fifteen or twenty people left at the party, some of which were dancing, and others who were lounging about on the comfortable-looking sofas and chairs around the fireplace. The whole room was decorated in solid reds and golds that made Draco actually feel nauseous.

After a few minutes of Draco's eyes scanning the room, he finally found what he was looking for. She was sitting on a sofa near the fireplace with Potter, and they were extremely close. He glanced around, wondering where the older Weasley was so that he could put a stop to their inappropriate displays of affection. He almost started to gag when he saw Potter lean in close to her, kissing her and touching her leg. He almost had a stroke when Harry got on top of her.

"Do you see that?" Blaise asked his friend, nodding in the direction of Harry and Ginny. "Is she going to quit being a member of the chastity club right now?"

"There's a club?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Let's go, mate. I don't even know why we're here in the first place. She isn't going to talk to you with Potter's tongue down her throat."

Just then, Ginny pushed Harry off her, and Draco watched as they talked for a few minutes. He tried to read lips, but the way the firelight reflected off of their faces, he was unable to decipher what was said. Regardless, Ginny looked irritated as she walked away from Harry and out of the common room. He noticed, though, that she had left her backpack by the sofa, and he decided that he would stay a bit longer with assumptions that she'd come back to retrieve her belongings eventually.

Harry stood from his seat, running his hands through his messy, jet black hair in obvious frustration of whatever just occurred. He began to pace around, and after a few minutes, he looked up and saw the two party-crashers as they stood huddled in the corner. He locked eyes with Draco for a brief moment, his expression turning almost dangerous, and he stalked over to them.

"Well, well," Harry said, looking back and forth between Blaise and Draco. "I don't remember inviting the two of you."

"You really should tighten up your security, then," Draco said.

"What do you want?" the Gryffindor boy asked impatiently.

The blond boy smirked. "Well, we heard through the grapevine that you and your Weasel had a bit of a lovers' spat. We were just coming to offer moral support."

"Stay away from my girlfriend, Malfoy. She hates you nearly as much as I do."

"A bit possessive, isn't he?" Draco asked of Blaise, who nodded in agreement. "Perhaps that is what made her walk away. Maybe he smothers her a bit too much."

"Malfoy, I'm warning you."

"What, Potter?" Draco said, straightening his spine as he stepped away from the supportive wall. "You going to stop me from talking to her? Does it frighten you that much when your little cling-on talks to other guys? If I had any interest in talking to that red-headed piece of rubbish, I would, and there isn't a bloody thing you could do to stop me."

Harry didn't hesitate before he lifted his hands and pushed, slamming Draco back into the wall. He held him there by the collar, shooting a look at Blaise that said to stay out of it. Truthfully, Harry did not know Blaise well enough to have a problem with him, so he really had no qualms with him being at the party or inside the common room. But his history with Draco was a lengthy one, and he was going to settle it himself. Whether or not violence was going to be involved was still a question that was up in the air.

Before a word could be said between the three boys, Harry was pushed away, violently. His grasp on Draco's neck was forfeited involuntarily as he was shoved.

"What is going on here?"

"Ginny, he was saying things about you!" Harry said, pointing his finger at Draco. "I was just trying to defend you."

Her glare did not lose in intensity. "Harry, anything he said is rubbish. You've never listened to him before, so why are you going to start now? And you!" she said, turning and pointing her figure at Draco. "What in the bloody hell are you even doing here?"

"I was bored?" Draco offered weakly, slightly wary of the raging redhead.

"This party is over!" Ginny shouted. "Everyone get the hell out!" Once the remaining ten or so students began to leave, she turned to Draco. "Blaise, you are included. Harry, go to bed. I'll talk to you in the morning."

Draco turned to leave, but he felt himself being shoved up against the same bloody wall, once again.

"You. Stay."

Harry raised an alarmed eyebrow. "What do you mean? What do you want to talk to him about, Gin?"

She pursed her lips. "Harry, remember what we talked about before? About respect?" At his nod, she continued. "Well, this is kind of an example of that. Being my boyfriend doesn't give you the authority to tell me what to do. This is one of the many reasons why I think a break for us is a good idea."

He gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead. "I do trust you, you know," he said softly. "I love you. Goodnight." And he left.

Blaise was already gone, and the common room was empty.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Ginny asked, significantly calmer than she was when Harry was there. She looked up at him, and her eyes were soft and sympathetic.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

His mouth was open, poised for speaking, but Ginny cut him off. "Can I say something?"

He nodded, and then nodded his head again toward the couch.

After they were seated, Ginny looked at him. "I know what it's like to have people talk about me, and I know what it's like when nasty rumors are spread. So, I wanted to apologize. I should know better than to assume bad things about you when I hardly even know you, and I really do feel badly that I passed judgment on you. So, I'm sorry."

Draco was floored. "I actually came here to tell you off about that," he said, amused. "But I guess you figured it out by yourself."

She smiled at him. "You don't know what it's like to have a bunch of brothers who were all so popular and well-known. It's irritating. I'm always just one of the Weasleys, or I'm 'Fred and George's little sister,' or 'Potter's girlfriend.'"

"I do know what it's like to have a notorious father, though," he said, not unkindly. "I do understand, you know."

Her smile grew. "That's good to know."

A stretch of time grew between them, and for several minutes, they sat in a comfortable silence.

"So, Potter was putting some serious moves on you. I guess you and he really don't -"

"No, I told you I'm waiting," she said, a little irritated. "And I've told him, but somehow he still doesn't get it."

Draco nodded. "So you broke up with him?"

Ginny shrugged. "No, not really. I just think he needs to think about some things. I don't think I'm really who he wants. Honestly, Harry makes me feel like a convenience sometimes. I don't know what to do."

"Do you love him?"

She nodded. "Always have."

"But?"

She smiled. "But, I don't know you well enough to continue this conversation." Ginny stood, stretching her arms above her head. "Goodnight, Draco."

The Slytherin boy stood, smiling as he realized that she called him by his first name. "'Night, Ginny," he said as they walked together toward the portrait hole. He turned toward her. "If you ever need to talk, you know where I live."

"I'll keep that in mind, then," she answered with a sincere grin. She watched as he turned down the corridor, glancing over his shoulder at her once more before disappearing.

"What did the She Weasel want the other night?" Blaise asked, generously buttering a piece of toast on his plate. He glanced at his friend, who was, once again, staring at Ginny across the Great Hall while attempting to be discreet. The dark-haired Slytherin boy rolled his eyes at the fact that Draco was failing miserably at this task.

Draco continued to stare intently, and looked away only when his point of fixation glanced his way. "She apologized," Draco said.

"To you?"

"Yes. She accused me of being a man-whore, I told her off, and she apologized."

Blaise nodded, intrigued. He had spoken to Ginny a few times over the course of their time at Hogwarts, and although they weren't on friendly terms, he always kind of liked her. She was different from other Gryffindors. Sure, she was foolishly brave and righteous, but she was sneaky, too. From what he remembered of her twin brothers, she seemed to have taken a page right out of their book. Ginny was also passionate and even more hot-tempered than Ron, and Blaise thought it suited her. These observations were the main reasons why he never gave Draco a hard time about his friend's hopeless crush on her.

"How come she isn't sitting on top of Potter like she normally is?" Blaise asked.

"They're 'on a break,'" Draco said, still not taking his eyes from her. He, too, noticed that she was not sitting with Harry, as per usual. In fact, she was not even sitting on the same side of the Gryffindor table. "I think that is the official term she used. Something about that little scene we witnessed with him trying to shag her in the middle of their party." He took a bite of his cereal, chewing thoughtfully. "I give them until after Potions."

"That long? We have Potions second."

Watching Ginny was like an addiction for Draco. No matter what she happened to be doing, she made it interesting to watch. Draco prided himself on the ability to shield his emotions, never letting anybody in unless he wanted to, but she wore her heart on her sleeve. When she was happy, her smile went to her eyes and her whole face lit up like Christmas lights. When she was upset, her whole face would shatter in a way that was completely heart wrenching. Every emotion, every feeling, and every experience for Ginny, was plastered across her face for the world to see, and it worked for her. The way she demonstrated such lack of restraint should have been seen as a weakness, but it was a strength for her. It made her beautiful.

Not that she needed the help. Ginny was beautiful to begin with, although not stunningly so. Nothing about her really stood out in a crowd, aside from the color of her hair, but something about her made a person keep looking.

The two Slytherin boys exited the Great Hall after breakfast was over. Their first class of the day was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, and then following that they had Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Draco was even more excited about Potions this year. He had always done well in the subject and did always enjoy it, but when he found out the first day of classes that Ginny had skipped her year and joined the class, he was ecstatic.

Herbology was over quickly. It was not a subject that Draco had much of an opinion on. He did well on the exams, and he didn't really mind Professor Sprout. Still, it was neither here nor there.

A knot formed in his stomach as the two boys made their way to the dungeons for class. He was certain that Ginny and Harry would be getting back together any second now, and it made him sick to know how hopelessly in love with Potter the girl was. Himself, he could not find many redeeming qualities about the Gryffindor boy. He wasn't well-groomed, and he wasn't even particularly attractive for a guy. Draco was sure that he was nice enough, although he'd never admit such atrocities aloud, but there wasn't anything that was really appealing. Potter, certainly, was not good enough for a real relationship with Ginny.

"Harry, just stop it," he heard a girl's voice say. The voice was coming from a ways down the corridor, toward the classroom, and it was unmistakable who the voice belonged to. "I said to take the time and think, and I meant it. Two days are not sufficient."

"Don't you love me?" the Gryffindor boy plead. "Don't you want to be with me?"

She closed her eyes in frustration and pressed her fingers into them. "Please don't do this. Not here. There is nothing that needs to be said right now."

"Are we at least going to be partners for Potions?"

"No. Not for a little while, at least."

"Who, then?"

Ginny faltered for a minute, obviously caught up in a trap. Apparently, she hadn't quite thought ahead that far. She glanced around and noticed the blond Slytherin watching her. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments. "Malfoy," she said. "I asked him to be my partner on Friday. Remember? I asked him to stay after the party for a moment."

Harry looked as though he wanted to say something. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were narrowed.

"Ready, Weasley?" Draco asked, appearing behind Harry a moment later. When Ginny nodded, the unlikely pair walked into the Potions classroom. They were seated for a moment before Draco spoke again. "What was that about, then?"

The redheaded girl rolled her eyes. "Harry doesn't seem to get what a break is. He's driving me mad." She began copying down the notes for the day's assignment, chewing on her bottom lip vigorously. After a few moments, she set down her quill and looked to Draco, who was also copying his notes. "How come you agreed to be my partner so easily?"

Draco frowned in thought for the briefest of moments before a sly smirk crossed his lips. "And miss out on a chance to make Potter mad?"

Ginny smiled, and Draco thought he might melt.

*****

He honestly felt like a stalker. He knew her entire routine, and he made sure that he "accidently" bumped into her between classes. It was different, though. Normally, she would be with Potter, who would snarl at him for coming too close to his girl. Not now, though. She was alone, and she would shoot him a little half smile every time she saw him. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him, if she knew that he was driving him mad with desire, but he sincerely doubted it.

There was large oak tree that sat near the lake that she always sat beneath. Normally, he would sit directly across from the point that it sat and stare. But not today.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, stepping into the light.

Ginny looked up, surprised, a small smile graced her pink lips. She did not respond with words. Rather, she lifted her bag into her lap and scooted over slightly, making room for the Slytherin boy on her blanket.

"Waiting for someone?" Draco asked after sitting in silence for several minutes.

She shook her head. "No. Normally, Harry and I sit together out here before dinner."

Draco tensed slightly. "Should I leave, then?"

"Oh, no. He isn't coming." She curled herself up, bringing her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Her chin rested on the slight gap between her knees. "Can I ask you something? A serious question?"

"Yeah. Go on."

"Is there something the matter with me? Is there something off-putting about me?"

He sensed that she was legitimately upset. On the tip of his tongue, he had a snide quip about there not being much wrong, aside from the fact that she was a filthy weasel with ugly hair, but he kept it inside. Instead, he shook his head. "There's nothing wrong with you," he answered softly, not looking at her.

"Well, then why? Why did he do it?"

"I thought you broke up with him?"

She sniffed. "I did." She wiped her newly-formed tears off of her cheek with the back of her hand. "But, that's the thing. I thought he'd come back to me, apologize for constantly trying to get into my knickers, and tell me that he'd wait for me forever if he had to."

"He didn't?"

She shook her head. "No."

Draco breathed in deeply, turning to face her. "If Potter thinks that shagging you is more important than just being around you, than he's gone 'round the twist. I barely know you, and even I can see what a catch you are."

Ginny smiled to herself. "You're just being nice." She furrowed her brow. "Why are you being nice?" she asked, suspiciously.

He shrugged. "I may be a right bastard, but I know better than to kick someone when they're down." He paused a moment. "At least, someone who hasn't ever done anything to me."

"You're kidding me, right?" she asked, smiling. "Malfoy, I've known you for five years now. All you ever do is kick people when they're down! You pride yourself on it, in fact." She cocked her head to the side. "Honestly, what are you playing at? What do you want from me?"

He shrugged again. "I don't really think I have an answer for you that you're going to allow yourself to believe."

"That's fair; there probably isn't much you could say about anything that I would put any trust in." Ginny grinned cheekily. "But, at this point, I think I'd rather talk to a dishonest git rather than Harry."

Draco smiled despite himself. "It's Friday; let's do something fun tonight."

"I'm not going to the Gryffindor party tonight."

"I said fun, Weasley," he said, rolling his eyes. "Meet me tonight in the Room of Requirement at eight o'clock. I'll make you forget him, even if it's only for tonight." He glanced sideways at her. "What do you say, Weaselette?"

"You agreed to what?

Telling Hermione that she had plans with Draco Malfoy this evening had been an event in its own.

"Mione, I don't know what I'm doing," Ginny said, burying her face in her hands. "I can't stand that snotty little git, but I'm really excited! I don't like him, but he's so different from Harry, and honestly, Harry is the last person that I have any desire to be around!" She gave her friend a pleading look. "Do you know why I broke up with Harry? Did he tell you?" At the shake of her head, Ginny smiled. "Figures. He wouldn't want Ron to know that he won't stop trying to shag me."

Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. "He knows you're not interested in that right now!"

"That's my point! Harry knows me so well, and he says he loves me, and he still doesn't care that I don't want to have sex with him!" She pressed her fingers to her eyes, attempting to relieve the tension she was feeling. "I don't like Draco; I don't, but I think that maybe he might be able to take my mind off of things. And Harry hasn't come back to me, begging me to forgive him, so what choice do I have here? How can I sit through another party, watching Lavender and Padma and Parvati and Romilda fawn over the love of my life? I won't do it!"

The older girl stood and walked beside where Ginny was sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed. She knelt down, leveling her eyes with Ginny's. "Listen, Gin, I'm your friend. Harry has been my best friend since we were eleven-year-old kids, but he doesn't get me sometimes. It's not the same." She took a deep breath and held onto her friend's hand. "Even though I love Harry, I support you in whatever it is you choose to do for you." She paused again. "What do you need help with?"

Ginny smiled fondly at her friend. "Make me beautiful."

An hour later found the two girls, still in the Sixth-Year Girls dormitory. Ginny stood before the floor-length mirror on the wall, and Hermione was sitting on her bed, looking at her friend.

Because Ginny had no idea where Draco was taking her that evening, she wasn't sure what to wear. She didn't want to be too casual, in case he took her somewhere fancy or formal, but she also didn't want to be presumptuous and dress in something overly formal. For all she knew, they were going to stay in the Room of Requirement and play Exploding Snap, though this she doubted. If there was one thing that she did know about Draco Malfoy, it was that he never did anything half-way. If he said he was going to show her a good time, she tended to think he would be doing just that.

Hermione perused their combined wardrobes, in search of something fun, flirty, and casual, as well as stunning and a little dressy, as per Ginny's specific qualifications. It had been difficult, but both girls were satisfied with the final result. The jeans that Hermione had found were dark, and they slung low across her hips. The older girl also found a black top that sat like a regular shirt on the right side, but began to slant downward across the chest and under the left arm, leaving her left side sleeveless. She helped Ginny to style her normally straight-ish hair into loose ringlets, and pushed a emerald-studded butterfly hair clip into the left side.

The redheaded girl bit her lip nervously as she studied her reflection. It was seven-thirty - almost time for her to meet Draco. She couldn't decipher why she was so beyond nervous. It wasn't a date, she had no romantic feelings for Malfoy in the slightest, and she also had no expectations for the evening whatsoever.

Perhaps that was what excited her so. With Harry, any time they had done anything together, she expected time to stop and there would be fireworks and everything would be perfect. No matter what, though, nothing that they did could ever meet the high standards that she set for him, regardless of how much fun they actually had. Now, she was going out with someone who she could barely stand to talk to, no idea of what they were even doing, and no expectations of fireworks or the like. It made a comfort zone; she knew that he couldn't disappoint her, although she vaguely got the feeling that disappointment would not be occurring.

She took a deep breath, said her goodbyes to Hermione, and waited until the coast was clear for her to sneak from the common room, undetected by Harry and Ron. It had been easier than she expected, as she noticed as soon as she entered that the two of them were engulfed in a game of Wizard's Chess.

Once she left the room, she knew she was safe, as curfew was not until eleven on the weekends. Leisurely, she walked the stairs until she reached the seventh-floor corridor. In her mind, she envisioned a place where only she and Draco Malfoy could enter. She took several deep breaths, imagining what the room could possibly look like, and a door to the Room of Requirement appeared.

The room was small and cozy. There were two sofas sitting before the fireplace, which was the sole source of light in the room. She smiled to herself as she walked deeper into the room, hoping that she wasn't too late for her meeting, and admired the fine decor of the room. The couches were plush and comfortable-looking, and there were several decorative trinkets around the room. She was thankful that there were not many portraits who could potentially tattle on her for being there.

"Eight o-clock, on the dot," a voice said from one of the sofas.

Ginny knew it was Draco immediately, and she smiled despite herself as she approached him. She sat down beside him. "So, what do you have planned for me?" she asked, surprising even herself that she was not slightly alarmed at the notion.

"Not a thing," he said, assuredly. "I don't make plans, Weasley, I just go with it."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, then why did we meet here?"

He smirked. "Potter thinks he knows all of the secrets of the castle, but there is one that he may not have discovered just yet," he informed her pompously. He stood and walked to a large portrait on the wall beside the fire. "This here leads to a pub in Hogsmeade - the Hog's Head. We don't need to stay in that filth hole, but we can get anywhere from there." He took a few steps closer to her, extending his hand to her. "What do you say, Weasley?"

"I heard of this place," Ginny said, her voice excited. "It's a Muggle place, right outside of the village. We could go dancing." She smiled brightly at the blond-haired Slytherin boy.

He shrugged nonchalantly, his hand still outstretched to her. "This is your night, Weasley," he stated. "I'm just your escort."

She bit her lip, and then her expression turning gradually into a devilish smile. Ginny took his hand and stood up from the sofa. "I'd say that sounds like fun, Malfoy."

Practically jumping for joy, she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the portrait that he indicated would reveal a passage to Hogsmeade. Ten minutes later, the pair of them found themselves exiting the Hogs Head Inn. Though it was still relatively early, they knew that they had to be careful because this evening was not a scheduled visit to Hogsmeade. Thus, they stuck to the shadows and away from store windows as they made their way toward the outskirts of the village. Draco was consciously aware of the fact that Ginny was gripping onto his hand, though he wasn't entirely certain that she knew she was doing that. Rather than call attention to it, he simply held her hand in return.

It was not a particularly posh place, or at least it did not appear that way from the outside, but it looked inviting enough. It was a one-story building, and the slightly worn sign read, "Village Underground" in glittering, neon lights.

Once inside, Ginny dropped Draco's hand and they sat together at a booth in the back corner of the room. She reached inside the change purse she was carrying, counting her money and determining whether or not she had adequate funds to purchase a meal.

Draco, sitting across from her, reached over, pulling her hand from her bag. "No, I'm paying," he said. "Doesn't look like you've got much Muggle money on you."

She lifted an eyebrow. "And you do?"

He nodded. "Don't worry about it, Weaselette. Anything you want tonight is on me."

Eyeing him skeptically, she smiled and looked down at the plastic-covered menu that sat on the table before her. When the waitress came by, the pair of them ordered, and Ginny went out on a limb and ordered herself a beer. She was surprised when the waitress failed to ask for identification, nor did she even look up from her notepad when it was ordered.

Once the waitress walked away, Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd ever drink."

Ginny looked smugly. "I think you're forgetting all of my brothers," she replied cheekily. "Fred and George rubbed off on me most."

They talked and laughed for awhile before the waitress returned with their food and their beers. It wasn't long before Ginny ordered another, and another, and yet another, and was so pissed that she no longer wanted to dance, although Draco sincerely doubted that in her state that she'd be able to walk.

Glancing down at his watch, he looked up at Ginny. "It's eleven," he said. "Do you want to head back?"

She smiled and nodded drunkenly.

Draco was grateful that he only had one beer because, if he had gotten as sloshed as she, he wasn't sure that the pair of them would be able to make it back in one piece. As it were, he had his arms slung in support of her, and she leaned into him with almost all of her weight as she attempted to walk on her own.

"Really, I'm fine!" she said, giggling, as they walked toward Hogsmeade.

"Want me to let you crawl back?" he asked, sardonically.

A loud giggle escaped her lips. "No, of course not!" she said, wrapping her arm around his waist. "You smell too good for me to let you go."

They walked in silence for awhile. Draco was happy to have her so close to him, even though she was so drunk that she probably did not even realize what she was doing or saying. Still, he couldn't bring himself to release her, and he was enjoying their closeness. Besides, it would have been cruel to let her stumble around, cloakless, in the chilly Autumn night. Instead, he pulled her into him further, supporting her weight as she stumbled through the streets.

"Draco, I want to know something," she announced after about ten minutes of silence.

"You probably won't remember it in the morning."

"That's okay!" she declared. Abruptly, she stopped moving and turned toward him. Her head was tilted back so that her glazed-over eyes could get a clear-ish look at the blond boy. "Draco, how many girls have you actually slept with?"

The question took him a bit by surprise. "None," he answered solemnly. He tried to return her to the supportive position that they had been walking in, but she stood very still, gazing into his eyes. "What?"

"Do you want me?" she asked, suddenly appearing much more sober than she actually was.

He faltered at the question, not knowing if he should answer truthfully and risk her remembering it in the morning, or if he should lie and, once again, risk her remembering it in the morning. Instead, he said, "Ginny, it doesn't matter. I would never take advantage of you when you can barely stand." Once again, he tried to pull her along. Once again, she did not move.

"Am I pretty?"

He closed his eyes, deciding to simply answer the question rather than argue. "You're gorgeous."

She stared at him for several minutes, gazing thoughtfully into his eyes. Her face began inching toward him, her eyes closing gradually, and Draco tensed into a rigid beam beneath her gaze.

He knew how close she was, and he knew that he could reach out and kiss her like he had been dying to do for the last year, but he didn't. He held his place, not wanting to take advantage of a drunk girl in any way, deciding that if she kissed him, he would kiss back. But that was it. He would do nothing more, and he would not pressure her. No, he would let her set the pace for the kiss, but beyond that he would stop her. She was a good girl, and he would not let her make a drunken mistake that would change her forever. He would never be able to live with himself if that happened, and he knew she would certainly hate him for that in the morning.

He knew how close she was, he could feel her breath on his face and his neck. He closed his eyes, patiently waiting. But it never came.

The sound of her retching on the ground shook him from his thoughts. He crouched down beside where she was hovering on the ground, rubbing her back soothingly as rejected the alcohol that had been residing in her stomach.

Her head was pounding when she woke up. She was unsure of where she was, but the surroundings did seem to be at least vaguely familiar. She had been sleeping on a large, black sofa, covered in a white fleece blanket and she was near a low-burning fire. Everything in the room was rather warm and inviting, and she was comfortable, aside from the pounding in her skull.

Carefully and slowly, she sat up, peering around the room at her surroundings. It took a few moments for everything to register in her head, but she eventually realized that she had spent the night in the Room of Requirement. After that, more details from the previous night had slowly begun to creep into her brain. She had gone out with Draco to a Muggle dance club, and she had gotten drunk. She was able to remember the circumstances by which she ended up in Hogsmeade with Malfoy, but most other details were foggy.

She glanced at the second sofa in the room, half expecting to see Draco sleeping on it. The sofa was vacant, and part of her was disappointed. Still, she was mainly relieved to be alone. She stood up slowly, wrapping the fleece blanket around herself, and exiting the room into the seventh-floor corridor. She made her way into the Gryffindor common room, praying that it was still early and that no one would be awake.
Prayers were not answered. The room was mostly vacant, except for Harry.

Weakly, she attempted to walk through to her dormitory unnoticed, but a cleared throat shattered the fantasy.

"Where were you all night?" he asked, not unkindly or even in an accusatory tone.

Ginny seated herself on the sofa beside Harry, pulling the blanket more tightly around her shivering form. She wanted to play it off like she was cold, which she was, but she also did not want him to see what she was wearing. Yawning, she said, "I spent the night in the Room of Requirement." She did not lie.

"Why?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because I didn't want to come to the party," she answered. This was not the only reason, of course, but it also wasn't entirely a lie.

"Ginny, I'm sorry," Harry blurted, turning toward Ginny. "I know you want to abstain until marriage, and I'm sorry that I ever tried to push anything on you." He reached out, gently brushing the back of his hand down her cheek. "God, Gin, I love you so much. I don't want to lose you by being stupid. I know in my heart, one day we'll get married and have kids and be happy, and I can wait until then. I promise."

She looked at the floor. "I've heard all of this before, Harry."

"No, Gin. I mean it. I won't put pressure on you. I'll wait for you."

"You got shagged, didn't you?"

This took him by surprise. "What did you say?"

She smiled sadly, still keeping her eyes on the floor and away from Harry. "That's why you're apologizing," she explained. "You don't feel badly for trying to sleep with me. You feel badly because you slept with someone else, don't you?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and closed it. His head was bowed low. "Ginny, I'm sorry."

Her heart sank in her chest and she wanted to die. "Fuck you, Potter," she said, tossing the blanket off of herself and marching away to her dormitory, giving him a clear view of exactly what she was wearing beneath it. That was it, she decided. That was the end.

*****

There was something very different about her that day. She was sitting under the same, nearly bare, oak tree on the same ratty old blanket, but something was off. She looked sad, hurt, and his chest began aching in a way that was not entirely comfortable to him. All he could think about was wondering what could have possibly happened in last two days that would have broken her so. It had only been two days, and when he had been near her last, she was happy.

He approached her cautiously, knowing full well how volatile the youngest Weasley was when pressed. She had a reputation for being fierce and having a fast temper. Normally, he didn't hold much stock in what others say, but this was something he had experienced firsthand. In fact, it was her temper and fire and soul that drew him in so deeply. Those traits were simply a part of her, and it made her unique and so close to being perfect.

The chilly Autumn air blew across his face, marring his angel-white skin with the flush of cold. He could see the oak tree that she sat beneath swaying in the wind, and he noticed that she tightened her warm, winter cloak around her body more tightly. His black boots crunched against the leaves, and she looked up as she heard him approach.

"I'm not really in the mood for talking," she said. Her voice wasn't mean or harsh. Rather, it was grief-stricken. She was miserable, and he was able to tell simply by looking at her. She turned her face from him, not allowing him to see her tear-stained cheeks.

But it was too late. He chose to not wait for her invitation to sit, knowing there was a good possibility that it would not come. There was not a lot of room left on the blanket, as her legs were spread to cover the majority of it. He sat half on the blanket, half on the cold ground, and stared at her, hoping that she would speak to him.

Silence washed over them for the longest time. He could hear the wind howling, and he could feel the air grow colder as the sun began to set. The oak tree swayed in the wind again, and a few of the dying leaves fluttered down, falling upon them. One leaf landed in her hair, and he wondered why she did nothing to move it. He reached up, gently pulling the leaf from her hair and then proceeding to run his hand down her cheek, removing her tears.

She sniffled again, this time locking eyes with Draco. Her soft brown eyes were still filled to the brim with tears that were just waiting to fall. She did not speak. Instead, she pulled her legs into herself more closely and fell to her side, landing in his lap. Tears began to fall freely like a waterfall, and she melted into him. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to be comforted by someone who wasn't Harry or Hermione or Ron, but an outsider. Someone who did not know her well, and someone who by all means shouldn't care about her, was holding her flush against his own body, and it felt more right to her than anything had.

Patiently, he waited for her to speak, but her words never came. He knew very little of appropriate ways to deal with a crying woman, but in those moments that they sat beneath that large tree, it no longer mattered. She never told him what happened, never said why she was crying, but somehow he knew that she needed him. He decided that he would be the man she needed; he would hold her and hope that, eventually, she might tell him why she sat there so broken on that November evening.

It was nearly December now, and she wasn't feeling much better. She hadn't spoken many people, other than Hermione and Ron, who was adamantly trying to figure out why Ginny and Harry had broken up for good. Using incomplete information from herself and Harry, she figured that Ron hadn't been able to come up with any very conclusive explanations. She didn't want to talk about it, and she knew that Harry did not want to tell Ron how badly he had hurt his little sister. Because of his embarrassment, it hadn't been quite as difficult to avoid Harry as she thought it would have been.

Avoiding Draco was a much heftier task, and it was one that she felt quite guilty about. He had been so good to her that day, holding her against him as she cried beneath her favorite spot by the lake. He warmed her body by holding her close, and he warmed her soul by simply being there. Though she never said it, she appreciated greatly that he had demanded nothing from her. He asked for no explanations, nor had he demanded any answers. No. He had just been what she needed - a friend.

And yet, for reasons that even she was unable to decipher, she had been deliberately avoiding him - like the plague, in fact. When she would see him in the hallways, she would latch on to the closest person that she knew and pretend to be discussing something important. In Potions, she had begun partnering with Hermione, which was something that Ron was not terribly thrilled about. During meal times, she would come in late, determine where he was sitting, and deliberately make sure that she chose a seat that was nowhere near his line of vision. It was positively juvenile behavior, she knew, and it was ridiculously unreasonable. There was no reason for her to treat someone who had been so good to her this way.

Marching into the common room after dinner, she tossed herself onto her favorite sofa by the fireplace. It was much too dark and cold to sit outside anymore, so she had been resigning herself to remain where Draco could not approach her. Unfortunately, this spot did not allow her complete privacy. In fact, she was left much more alone when she sat beneath her tree where most people assumed she had purposely sat alone.

The couch gave way under someone's weight, and Ginny glanced to her left. Neville sat beside her, smiling gaily in the firelight.

"Hullo, Gin!" he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Ginny smiled despite herself and leaned into his welcoming arm. Neville had turned into being just like another brother to her, as if she needed more of them. He was protective and sweet, and she loved him dearly, and yet he was able to annoy her with the best of them. Sometimes, though, she preferred to talk to him over some of her real brothers. She found that over the last few weeks, he had been the only person who had been able to put a smile on her face.

"What's the matter, love?" Neville asked, planting a kiss at the top of her head.

She considered not speaking, but decided not to. Her friend was much too good to her for her to give the silent treatment. "I'm just thinking," she replied. Ginny knew the statement was vague, but she really hoped that he would get the hint and not press her forward.

Her hopes were left unanswered. "What are you thinking about?"

A deep sigh escaped her lips before a sudden thought entered her mind. Sitting up, she looked at Neville and said, "Nev, you're a guy, right?"

He blinked twice before nodding. "Oh, well spotted, Gin."

She smacked him playfully. "Seriously, I want to know something. From the perspective of a guy, is there something wrong with me? Is there something," she paused, "unappealing about me?"

"You're beautiful, Ginny. You know that."

"That's not what I mean. I mean, am I not worth... waiting for?" Her cheeks flushed pink when she realized there was a chance that Neville might not know what she was talking about.

"You mean..." he trailed off, flushing a light pink himself.

She nodded. "I mean, I know you don't think of me that way, exactly. But is there something wrong with me that would make a guy not want to wait for me?"

He kissed her cheek. "Ginny, you are, without a doubt, one of the nicest, smartest, and most beautiful girls in this school. If there is someone who thinks you aren't worth the world, give me their name, and I will gladly allow them to... hex me to death while I attempt to defend your honor." At her smile, he pulled her in for a closer hug. "I love you, Ginbug. You're the sister I never had."

And once again, a guy who was not Harry or Ron was there to make her feel better.

That evening at dinner, she sat beside Neville and Seamus. She was several seats away from the trio, and yet she allowed herself to be perfectly within Draco's line of vision. Immediately, she noticed that he was staring at her, and she actually felt herself flush as his smoldering eyes bore into her.

After an hour of picking on Neville good-naturedly and listening to the dirty jokes that Seamus had shared, Ginny found herself walking away from the Great Hall in a better mood than she had been for weeks. She wandered around aimlessly, finding herself on the seventh floor, standing before a door.

She knew it was the Room of Requirement, but by no means had she realized that there was something that she had needed. She found it odd that the door had appeared before her so easily, so freely, and she faltered a moment before she made the decision to go in.

The room looked the same as it had the last time she had been there, when she had woken up from her drunken night alone. She never questioned why Draco had left her alone, but it was something that plagued her. She decided then that, if she ever spoke to Draco again, she would ask him why.

The two sofas sat before the same dimly-lit fireplace, and the same white fleece blanket sat upon the one that she had previously slept on. It struck her as odd that it had returned there, but she assumed that it was something that appeared because it belonged to the room.

One difference, she noted. The portrait leading to Hogsmeade was missing, which meant that she couldn't use the room as a means to escape at the moment. Apparently, that meant that whatever she needed was already in the room. There had to be, or else the door would not have appeared before her.

"I was wondering how many nights I would have to wait, Weasley."

She followed the voice, her eyes gaping wide. How was this what she needed? How was he what she needed.

She cleared her throat, straightening her spine to look at him more intently and confidently. "Evening, Malfoy."

Draco stood from where he had been sitting on the plush sofa and walked carefully to Ginny. For weeks, he had sat in the Room of Requirement each night, hoping that she would come. He had wished - no, needed - a place where only Ginny could find him, and he had hoped that, at some point, she would stumble upon that enigmatic door that was located in the seventh-floor corridor. He had considered giving up because he realized, finally, that for her to find that door, she would have to need him, too.

When he heard the door swing open, and heard the sound of footsteps, he knew it had to be her. He didn't even need to look up before he spoke to her, and the sound of her pained voice chilled him to the bone. It wasn't so much that she sounded angry or hurt, but more that she sounded confused.

"I've been waiting for you," he whispered, stepping closer and closer to her. He could see the unsteady rise and fall of her chest as he neared, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was making her nervous. He hoped so.

She closed her eyes briefly, taking in his scent. He was mere inches from her now, and she could tell that he had been waiting by the fire for quite some time. She could smell the smoke from the fire on the fabric of his shirt, and it was a bit intoxicating. When she opened her eyes, she was intimidated by their proximity. "I'm sorry that I've kept you waiting," she whispered. "I didn't know."

He smirked. "I didn't tell you to meet me, but that was because I wanted you to need me."

Her breath hitched. "Malfoy, what is it that you were waiting for, exactly?"

"I wanted to know why you've been avoiding me. I wondered if I had done something wrong."

She shook her head. "No, it isn't you. I haven't been really talking to anyone much lately."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I was upset."

"About?"

"About something that someone said."

"Thanks for clearing up that vagueness."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't particularly want to talk about that," she said, turning away from Draco. "If I wanted to talk about it, I wouldn't have had to avoid everyone."

He stepped closer, his chest very nearly pressing into her back, brushing himself against her ever-so-lightly. "Then tell me. What was it you needed me for?"

"I want to know why," she said, regaining the confidence in her voice and turning back to face him. They had less than an inch of distance between them, and she could feel his breath against her cheek. She arched her neck, looking up at his six-foot frame, and trying desperately to appear taller and more assured than she felt. "Why did you leave me all alone that night? Why did I wake up that way?"

To her surprise, he chuckled. “Weasley, what's this really about?"

"I just told you."

"No," he snapped. "That might be a question that you've got, but that's not why you're here. It doesn’t explain why you would go for weeks acting as though I had never even been a thought in your mind, and it certainly doesn’t explain why you need me now. You want answers? Well, guess what, Weasley. So do I."

She searched her mind for answers. Nothing. She couldn't explain why she had avoided him for the past weeks beyond the weak excuse she had already given, and she didn't know why she was seeking him now. Truthfully, she didn't realize how badly she wanted to see him until he was standing before her, close enough to be touched.

"Well?" he asked, snapping her rudely from her thoughts.

"I don't know."

"I do."

"Enlighten me, then, Malfoy. If you've got so damn much insight into my life, into what I feel, then please share because I'm hanging on by a thread here!"

He blinked rapidly at her outburst. "You're scared, Weaselette," he said, moving closer to her. They were so close now that almost every inch of his body could be felt by her. "You think that after Harry didn't come crawling back to you, and after I left you to wake up alone, that no one wants you."

"Well?" she asked, mimicking the rude tone of his voice from when he asked the very same question only moments ago. "Have you got answers for me?"

Draco looked at her, and for the briefest of moments, caught a glimpse of something strange in her milk chocolate eyes. Need. Pure, unadulterated, frustrated desire was coursing through the veins of Ginny Weasley, and he made a choice. He made the decision to finally go for her, and he gave in to the question she was asking and the one her eyes were failing to hide. Do you want me?

In a split second, the miniscule gap between their bodies, the one thing that separated them, was closed. His lips pressed into hers firmly, and her body gave in as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to her with all of the strength her body could muster. His arms went to her slender waist, and he pulled her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his middle. He moaned into her mouth as she began to thread her fingers through his silky hair. In return, he tugged her fiery red locks, freeing them from the messy knot that bound them.

She moved her hips into him, and he began to feel his desire for her increase. He was unsure how to react, knowing that she was so pure and chaste, but his own desire and pent up frustration began to boil over and pushed him to his limit. He stumbled, pulling them to one of the sofas and laying her down on the plush surface.

He pulled away, looking deep into her eyes. They looked so much darker now. "I don't want to go too far, Gin," he whispered.

"I want you to take me, Draco," she cried. "Please. I need this."

Her eyes were filled with desperation, which was something that he’d never seen in her before. Unsure of what to do, he stood up. His respect for her outranked her desperate plea. "I won't do that. I won't let myself turn into your biggest regret."

A wave of realization breezed through her features. He had rejected her. She stood beside him, straightening her clothes and retying her hair into the loose knot it had previously been in. She felt embarrassed and ashamed, and could not make herself look at him directly. "I guess you answered my question," she said softly. "Now I need to figure out why I was asking."

She left before he could respond, but he at least knew that he had done the right thing.

Draco was left with a sense of confusion, coupled with a twinge of guilt. How was he supposed to react to what had just happened? It was blaringly obvious to him, and really to anyone else with eyes who occasionally glanced at Ginny, that she was completely in love with Potter, and though he couldn't care less about the Gryffindor boy, he did care a great deal about Ginny and her reputation. In good conscience, he couldn't allow himself to allow her to give up something that meant so much in circumstances that were not ideal for her. It was completely out of his character to care so much, but somehow, and for some reason, he did. But his thoughts could not be contained, and he wondered if, somehow, she cared about him, too.

The problem with Draco was that he had such a difficult time expressing his emotions to anyone. True, Blaise knew exactly how he felt about Ginny and, on occasion, taunted him mercilessly about it, but he knew because of his own observations. Draco never offered any insight, nor did he ever confirm Blaise’s suspicions with words, but because his friend had a keen sense of judgment, he simply knew.

Though it was still reasonably early, but the hallways were already bare. A chill resonated through the castle that the blond boy found to be rather unsettling. Something was wrong with him. Why did he care so much about Ginny? Why did he care whether or not she respected herself? Why did it bother him terribly that, at this very moment, she was quite possibly alone with Harry Potter, who would, undoubtedly, do everything in his power to get Ginny back? Was there some way to stop her from forgiving him, thus possibly giving him a chance to show her how happy he could make her? All of these questions were nagging at him, but they were nothing compared to his ultimate reason for concern: why did he care about any of this at all?

Did he love her?

*****

It was like deja vu. Only Harry was present in the Gryffindor common room, and, once again, he sat alone by the fire. It illuminated his features with its soft glow, and Ginny could not stop her heart from aching slightly at the sight of his delicate face. He was not a beautiful person by conventional means, but he was attractive in his own way. His heart, his goodness, and his intentions shone through everything, and that was what she had always seen in him. She felt a painful pang in her chest, knowing that her innocence was something she had always wanted to give to Harry, and yet she was so ready and eager to give it to Draco prematurely only moments earlier. It made her feel decidedly guilty.

But then she recalled the hurt, the agony, and the betrayal that she had felt from the last time that they had spoken. He had given away his most precious gift, something that he had all but promised was for Ginny, and he would not have confessed to had it not been for her keen sense of perception. Though she knew that she was a good person, but she did not know if she would be able to find it in her heart to simply forgive and forget something that was so important to her; and she thought it had meant something to Harry, as well. Even if she did end up with Harry, she knew that the precious moment in which she gave herself to the one man she loved would not be reciprocated between them. He would not have that to give to her.

But Draco would.

She couldn’t help that thought from creeping into her mind, and she hated it. She hated that she thought about a boy who wasn’t Harry. It made her sick how badly she had wanted him. But that didn’t matter. Draco had turned her down. He obviously hadn’t wanted her in the same way that Harry did. Draco just wasn’t attracted to her, and she had to dismiss her thoughts of him. Ginny’s feelings would simply never be requited.

In vain, she tried to sneak past, enter the dormitories undetected by Harry, but his hand on her shoulder told her that her efforts were all for naught. They felt rough against her bared skin, but they were strong and warm, just like she recalled. His hands were not perfect - they were bruised and calloused from Quidditch - but they were his, and that made them special. Feeling his touch, and inhaling his scent made her want to erase their recent past, but she hoped that she would not give in so easily. Regardless of how much he meant to her, had always meant to her, she could not allow herself to let it all go and fall into his arms. She was too strong for that.

Without turning to face him, she said, "What do you want, Harry?" Her voice was not unkind or unpleasant, nor did she indicate in any way that she had any qualms about speaking with him. Rather, she sounded tired and worn, clearly indicating that their repeated discussion was becoming rather old. There was nothing else left to say that she had not already heard from him.

"I love you," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her slim waist and pulling her in close.

Except that.

She leaned into him, turning herself in the circle of his arms, marveling at how well their bodies seemed to fit together. It was something that was always amazing to her. They were like two pieces of a puzzle, belonging together, aching to be connected always. Her body melted into his, and she felt like she was home. Just like that, she had given in.

"I know you do," she responded, her whispering voice even lower sounding than his. Though she knew she would be better off retaining her high ground, keeping her distance from the place that she had come to fear the most, she allowed herself to give in and accept his comforting gesture. What would come next, she did not know, but she did know that thoughts of Draco still remained in the back of her mind.

*****

From his spot across the lake from that bloody old oak tree, Draco removed a quill, ink, and a new piece of parchment from his bag. Setting it on top of his textbook, providing a solid, level space ideal for writing, he began to do just that.

He was early, he knew. She would always sit under that tree at the same time each day, doing the exact same things, and, until recently, with the exact same person. It was nearing December, though, and hols were rapidly approaching, but the weather had been pleasant and he knew that she would be unable to resist the opportunity to sit in her favorite spot beneath her favorite tree. It was not likely that there would be many more days with such favorable weather for quite some time, and Ginny craved the outdoors.

There was a delicate situation at hand here. She had offered herself to him, placed her most precious, most cherished gift on a silver platter and had given him the chance to take it. It would have been his gift for ever more, and he had denied it. He realized that they would not simply be able to sit down and discuss how cooperative the weather was. No, that would be much too awkward at this point. He would have to tiptoe a bit. It would take easing in, maneuvering about, and apologies galore. No part of him wanted to make her feel rejected, and that was exactly what he had done, despite his uncharacteristically good intent.

As a rule, Draco did not like to apologize, though. It was a weakness, allowing a person to see another depth of themselves, revealing hidden emotions that could later be used as a weapon. It was a fear that he had always had unconsciously. As a wizard, though not completely developed, he was confident in his skill, and as a person he had faith in his own quick wit and intellect. However, deeper than this, he had feelings that he did not like to share. Each time that he expressed a detail so intimate, he was exposing a part of his soul and allowing himself to be weakened. He was freely offering his heart, something genuine and delicate, along with a hammer, allowing himself to be shattered to a point that could go beyond repair.

But for her, it was worth it.

On that precious page, he wrote to her a letter. He expressed how deeply he cared for her and how badly he yearned for her. He told her how he wished that he was able to take that gift that she had offered, but that the sole reason he hadn't was because of her and the respect that he had felt. If she had given her body - her chastity, her virginity, her innocence - before she was ready, she would have regretted the experience, and he would have been the one to blame. Though she was the one he longed for and desired the most, he would put it all aside in favor of keeping her for himself. He'd wait for her, never pressuring, until she was ready. If she was never ready, he would wait that long, too.

It was the first time he had ever put to words how much he cared for her. He felt vulnerable, but he trusted that she’d take care of his heart. She was not the type to be cruel and hurtful.

Through the sound of the wind rustling the almost bare branches of the trees, Draco heard a laugh. It was pleasant-sounding enough, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, it pierced through his heart, leaving a scar. He wanted to glance around the perimeter of the lake and search for the owner of the offensive sound, but he knew deep down to whom it belonged, and he knew who had caused it. He just knew.

Without looking up, he crumpled up the mess of a letter that he had been writing for her, remembering now why he had made the decision, long ago, to never let anyone in. He tossed all of his possessions into his bag carelessly and walked toward the castle, never looking back. He couldn't. If he did, he was sure that he would break down.

It was bad enough that he had had his heart broken in a thousand pieces, but it was even worse to see her with him all the time. They were always together, arm in arm as they walked through the castle together. Watching him kiss her was sickening, but Draco was a glutton for punishment. He couldn’t keep his angry eyes off her. He had done nothing wrong, had actually tried to be thoughtful and nice, and he had got burned as a result. That would be the last time, Draco decided. That would be the last time he’d ever take a chance on a girl.

The blond sat at the Slytherin table for breakfast. He had got there early so that he didn’t have to talk to anyone. He had even made sure that there were at least three seats between himself and the closest housemates. Talking to other people was not something he wanted to do, and it seemed that the other Slytherins had taken his hint. No one had bothered him, and his attempt at isolating himself from everyone so that he could brood in peace was a success.

Apparently, this obvious attempt at isolation was lost on Blaise, however.

“Morning, mate!” the darker boy chirped gaily as he sat directly to Draco’s left. He had a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He was being purposely annoying.

Slowly, Draco turned his head to his friend, eyeing him with unabashed irritation. “What do you want, Zabini?” he asked coldly before returning to his eggs and toast.

Blaise shrugged. “Not much,” he answered simply. “I want to finish school, start a career as a solicitor, have lots and lots of girls to shag that I’ll never have to commit to, and I want my best friend to quit bloody moping around all the time.” He looked at Draco pointedly. “Look, I know she’s important to you, but you have got to move on. There’s plenty of other birds in the sky.”

Draco made noncommittal gesture. “That’s not the point, Blaise,” he said after a moment.

“Bollocks. Just get over it.”

After taking one more bite of his eggs and grabbing a piece of toast, Draco stood. “You know what? I’m done talking about this.” He left without further argument.

Once Draco had gone, Blaise took a long glance across the Great Hall. Ginny was practically sitting in Harry Potter’s lap, flaunting their rekindled relationship to everyone in the school. There was no shame in her public display. She giggled as the Gryffindor boy pulled her in close, kissing her forehead, and tickling her sides. She looked happy, and so did Harry, but Draco’s heart was breaking.

It was time for Blaise to be a friend.

For the next few days, the dark Slytherin boy followed the Gryffindor girl around, stalking her in the shadows. He watched as her boyfriend would walk her to class, and he kept an eye on her while she was in Potions. There was barely a moment that went by that Blaise did not have an eye on her – his own revision was put on the backburner. He needed to get her alone – to talk to her and ask what had happened. It was obvious, to Blaise anyway, that something had happened between Draco and Ginny, but his conclusions were solely based on his own observations. Until recently, he would have dismissed Draco’s brooding and sulking, but Blaise got the distinct impression that Ginny had developed an interest in Draco, as well. He had seen it in the way she looked at Draco.

Days went by before Blaise had caught Ginny walking alone between classes. She had a spare period that hour, but she generally spent time with her boyfriend as he attempted to grope her in the hallways. But not that day. Ginny was alone and seemed to be wandering about the halls of the castle aimlessly. What was most peculiar about it, however, was the fact that she was walking toward the dungeons. After deciding that a fast approach would be ill-advised, Blaise formed a plan to pull her aside before she could protest.

Stealthily, Blaise crept up behind her and put a hand over her mouth. He felt her jump beneath his grasp, and he whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you, Weasley.” She calmed, and he pulled her into a small alcove.

As soon as Blaise backed away and released her, she slapped him in the shoulder. “What in the hell?” she said irritably. “You didn’t have to be all creepy, Blaise. I would have just come with you if you had come and tapped me on the shoulder, you know.” She sighed. “Slytherins.”

The Slytherin boy looked her up and down. “I don’t get it,” he said with a small shrug.

“Get what?”

“You’re too pretty for that bloody tosser,” Blaise replied shortly.

Ginny cocked her head to the side. “What are you on about now?” she asked, getting more heated. She had had things to do and people to talk to. She did not need Blaise to irritate her with his annoyingly cryptic messages.

“Potter,” he said. “You’re too pretty for him.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but then snapped it closed a few moments later. After taking a deep breath, she said, “Thank you so much for your unnecessary and unwanted opinion, Blaise. May I please go now?” She took a step away from the wall, but Blaise pressed a hand to her shoulder to gently push her back. “I don’t have time for this!” she snapped.

“I’m doing this for my friend, Weaselette. You’ve hurt him, and you’re bloody well going to tell me why.”

“Am I?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. “I don’t owe anything to anybody, least of all you.”

Blaise smirked. “No, you don’t owe me anything,” he said, resolved. “But, here’s the deal. I’ve got this good friend who is bloody head over arse about you. You’re all he ever thinks about, and it seemed to me that the two of you had started to get pretty close for a little while.” He tilted his head to the side. “Then, after you go on and on about Potter trying to get into you knickers, you try to get Draco to pry apart your dimple knees. Only, he refuses. Not because he doesn’t want you, but because he knows you don’t really.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the swell recount of my relationships. Is that all?”

“Not even close, love,” he chided. “Why did you do it, Weasley? Why did you go back to Potter?”

“Oh, please, Blaise,” she said, fed up from his out of line questioning. “Anyone with half a brain knows that I love Harry -- that I always have. If your friend didn’t know that, then it really is not my problem.”

He slammed his hand against the wall beside her head. “He was good to you, Ginny.”

“He left me alone, hung over in the Room of Requirement,” she said with a raising voice. “Did he mention that part?”

“Get over it!” His face was merely inches away from Ginny’s as he gave the same advice he had previously given to Draco. “What would you rather have? A boy who wants to shag you and is going to try at every possible opportunity, even though he knows you don’t want it, or a boy who is going to stop you when you throw yourself at him because he knows you’ll regret it and hate him for it?” He backed away with a twitch of his eyebrows. “Think about it like that, love, and decide for yourself who is better for you. Then, when you realize you’re not going to find someone better than Draco, start finding a way to apologize to him, because you’ve shattered him.”

The redhead bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she said quietly.

Blaise nodded sympathetically. “I believe that, but it still doesn’t change that you did hurt him.” He stared at Ginny for an long moment, a pregnant pause growing between them as he studied her intently. “Where were you heading, anyway?”

She was taken aback. “Oh. I was going to the library, and I –”

“Somehow got lost in the midst of the Hogwarts dungeons?” His expression turned into one of amusement. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Fine,” she said, lowering her voice. “I was going to find Draco.”

The Slytherin boy actually looked a bit disappointed. “You mean, my speech didn’t mean anything to you?” he asked pathetically.

“Not really, no.”

The Slytherin common room was untapped, uncharted territory for Ginny. She’d figured out where it was in her first year, but she had always made the decision to stay away. Most of the students in Slytherin house were not her friends – hated her, in fact. But here she was, walking with her newfound accomplice. She had a plan, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in her way.

Blaise gave her a nod, indicating the direction of Draco’s dorm. They exchanged small smiles, and she walked further into the desolate room. Everyone else was at dinner, but Blaise knew that Draco had snuck into the kitchens and brought his food to his room earlier on. After letting Ginny in, the dark Slytherin boy gave her a gentle squeeze on the arm for good luck before heading to the Great Hall for dinner.

As a whole, Slytherin house was quite unwelcoming. Everything was so calm that all of the décor appeared to be carved from stone. All of the trimmings were in green and silver, and everything in the common room was in complete order. The entire atmosphere was the polar opposite of Gryffindor’s, which always seemed very homey and welcoming. It was unnerving for Ginny, but she knew what she had to do.

Gently, she knocked on the door. In truth, she was extremely nervous. Half of her didn’t even expect Draco to answer it, while her other half was sure that he would and would subsequently slam it in her face upon realizing who was knocking. But it was worth it. She knew it was. She knocked again, more urgently this time. The problem was that she had no back-up plan, no alternative. Either she would see him now, or she would have to try the exact same thing another time. All wandering thoughts were halted, however, as she heard his muffled voice through the door.

“Bloody hell, Blaise, it’s your sodding room, too!”

She took a gulping breath. “It – It’s me, Draco,” she said softly, part of her wondering if he had even heard her.

The door flew open a second later. Apparently, he had heard her.

“Hello,” he said coldly. Every part of him, his overall demeanor, was completely calm and controlled. Except for his eyes. His misty grey orbs took every part of her in, studying her intently. Draco could tell by her posture and by the look in her own eyes that she was very out of her element, but he was not going to let her off the hook easily.

“May I – can I come in?” she asked sheepishly.

The blond stood aside, opening the door and leaving it poised for her entry. He watched her walk over the threshold hesitantly. After she settled herself on the edge of his bed, he said, “I’m not really in the mood to talk, Ginny, so –”

“Wait,” she whispered, effectively stopping him from speaking. She stood up again and walked toward him. “I have a lot of things to say to you, and I’m just going to say them.” Ginny paused, nibbling at her bottom lip. Quietly, she said, “But I need to know why you left me alone that night. Please, tell me why.”

Draco’s eyebrows twitched upward. “It wasn’t my intention,” he said softly. “I went to get you a hangover potion; I was supposed to be back when you woke up.”

She felt like a tool. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms over his chest expectantly, just waiting for her to go on.

She continued to nibble on her bottom lip, her nervous habit, as they stood before each other; Ginny tried not to make eye contact, but it was so hard for her. All she wanted was to look at him, to fall into his arms and tell him that she was sorry. But after how she had treated him, it could never be that easy. The weeks that she had been with Harry after the night she had left Draco in the Room of Requirement, she knew how badly she was making the Slytherin boy feel. But she didn’t care. She wanted someone to share her pain of rejection. She flaunted her relationship with Harry, purposefully getting under his skin. It was mean and hurtful, and she regretted it completely. The right words – the way to express how sorry she was for being such an inconsiderate little twit – wouldn’t come. She settled on, “Draco, I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

He gave a quick nod of the head. There was nothing in this gesture to indicate that he even cared about what she had said, but Ginny knew better.

“The night that I met you in the Room of Requirement, I was out of my head,” Ginny continued.

Draco snorted.

Ginny looked up into his grey eyes, looking into them for the first time in weeks. She felt a chill, knowing that he was so incredibly angry with her for putting him through the ringer. She had been awful, jumping back and forth between two boys who had shown an interest in her. Everything that happened with her and Harry, and with Draco, had been terribly confusing for her, and she had allowed herself to ruin her relationship with the one boy who hadn’t pressured her.

The Slytherin boy closed his eyes gently for a brief moment. “Gin, I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand?”

“For one thing, why you’re here with me instead of with your bloody Gryffindor boy-toy.”

She grinned. This was her in. “I’m not seeing Harry anymore.”

“You’re – you’re not?” A note of hopefulness was attached to his question.

“No,” she answered softly with a shake of her head. “I thought, all this time, that he was who I wanted. I thought that he could give me my happily ever after, but he could never get over the fact that I wasn’t ready to be with him in the way that he wanted. He couldn’t see past me being so unwilling to cater to his needs.” She stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “But you didn’t treat me that way, Draco. You stopped me from doing something you knew I’d regret because you cared – not because you didn’t want me.”

He stood perfectly still, his eyes fixed on hers intently. “I respect you more than that.”

“I know you do.” Her gaze was fixed on his, never faltering or wavering. This was it. It was now or never.

His Adam’s apple twitched at the base of his throat. She could almost see his pulse beating in his neck. The tension was so thick that she could have sliced through it with a knife. Their eyes never left each other’s and they were breathing simultaneously. Subconsciously, each of them inched closer and closer to the other. They were a hair’s breadth apart, but they each held perfectly still, maintaining their ground. Each was waiting for the other to make a move, to say or do something.

He took a deep breath. “Ginny…”

Draco crushed his lips against hers so hard that it hurt. She could feel his teeth clashing against hers as his arms went to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His heart was pounding so hard and so rapidly that she could feel it against her own chest. His hands began to roam over the small of her back, the tips of his fingers digging into her skin, bruising her and claiming her as his own. She felt a small flutter in the pit of her stomach. This was the kind of romance, the kind of fire, that she had always wanted.

Her hands found purchase in his hair. She tugged and pulled on his silvery blond locks as his lips bruised her own. Their mouths continued to compete with each other for dominance over the other, but neither would ever completely attain the desired authority. It was a constant push and pull as their hunger for each other finally reached its peak, weeks of pent up frustration and longing finally boiling over, but neither of them felt the need to rush the kiss – or anything else.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Tentatively, she eased her lips from his, pulling back just enough to gently and pleasantly end their kiss. She ran her hand over the side of his face, touching his cheek softly. She gave him another brief, lingering kiss on his lips before taking a step away from him, a dreamy smile on her lips.

“You’re the dream, Draco,” she whispered. “You’re the boy that all the girls wish for and hope for. You’re the one I’ve imagined in my fantasies – my Prince Charming, but just a little rough around the edges.” She began, once again, to nibble on her now swollen lips, as though she was both anxious and excited to tell him how she felt. “It was never Harry,” she murmured. It was always you.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” he asked. “All this time, I thought you were Harry’s girl.”

As a smile quirked on her lips, he closed the small space between them, recapturing her bruised lips in another searing kiss. He didn’t have to wish for her anymore. She was his, totally and completely, and he was never letting her go.