MAJOR DISCLAIMER (will not be posted in other chapters, but applies to entire story): Harry Potter and the characters used in my story are the properties of J.K. Rowling and her publishers. By using these characters, I am NOT claiming them as my own. I also do not claim to own the parts of Rowling's series that I will refer to occasionally. However, the plot and writing are mine.

they tell you where you need to go
tell you when you'll need to leave
tell you what you need to know
tell you who you need to be
but everything inside you knows
there’s more than what you've heard
there’s so much more than empty conversations
filled with empty words
- Switchfoot

More than Meets the Eye

Matthew Edwards leaned against the building that was formally known as the King’s Cross Station, enjoying a cigarette in peace. With a sanguine expression, he watched people parking their cars and entering the station. Lovers kissed their goodbyes, parents embraced their children, and friends hugged each other amiably. In a momentary lull in the traffic of people entering the station, Matthew noticed a very odd-looking blue car. It was zipping back and forth between the rows of cars, as though the owner was fervently searching for a parking spot. As Matthew exhaled a steady stream of smoke, he saw the car barely squeeze into a small spot between a van and a very sturdy concrete barrier. All four of the car doors opened the minute the vehicle had pulled to a stop. Out tumbled four redheads of varying ages and a black-haired boy. All of them seemed to be in a dreadful rush, pulling out a multitude of trunks. Matthew frowned in confusion; the car was awfully small to fit three black trunks, a cage with a bird – no, it was an owl – and various sundry packages. Hang on, who used trunks for their luggage these days, anyways? Matthew was only pulled out of his reverie when his cigarette burned itself to ash in his fingertips. Checking his watch, he shook his head as though clearing it, and re-entered the station.

As usual, the Weasleys were running late for the Hogwarts Express. Arthur and Molly Weasley rushed across the street, ahead of Ginny and Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, and secured trolley for each of the children. Although Harry and Ron were in their sixth year, and Ginny was in her fifth, Mrs. Weasley still regarded the three of them as a mother hen watches her little chicks.

“Here you go dears. Hurry up now, or you’ll be late for the train!” Molly urged.

Ginny sighed as she pulled and tugged on her trunk until it sat properly upon the trolley. By the time she had thrown on her other parcels, Ron and Harry were racing towards the train platforms, pushing their trolleys and their tickets in hand. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were behind them, jogging in an effort to keep up. Once again, they had forgotten about Ginny in their rush. She grabbed hold of the trolley’s handlebar and raced in the same direction, towards platform nine.

After Ginny had rushed through the platform’s barrier, she was kissed and hugged fiercely by her parents, who obviously hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t with them. Harry and Ron lugged her trunk towards the train, barely avoiding a collision with an Egyptian wizard with a fez and multi-colored robes, who was shaking his fist furiously at someone else in the crowd.

“Now be good dear –“ Mrs. Weasley began, as she had ever since Ginny was a first-year.

“Yes, Mum.” Ginny said, automatically.

“And keep an eye out for Ron –“

“Yes, Mum.” Ginny’s impatience was growing.

“And have a good year!” Arthur Weasley interrupted, and hugged his daughter. “Now go, before you miss the train!”

With another hug from her mother and a fleeting smile at both of her parents, Ginny boarded the train and sought a compartment. To her right, she could see Harry, Ron and their best friend Hermione Granger in the hallway, laughing and discussing their summers excitedly. Ginny immediately turned to the left and slipped away quickly from the trio, unnoticed as usual.

She looked into the windowed door of each compartment that she passed, hoping to find one that was empty. Of course, she had boarded the train too late, so she knew she would have to settle for one that was occupied by a couple of people. She also did not worry about her trunk, knowing that Harry and Ron had probably stored it with theirs. She knew that they would expect her to join them in their compartment, so that she could sit and stare out of the window while they laughed at their own private jokes and generally enjoyed themselves. Ginny stopped in her tracks, half-horrified at the resentment bubbling through her, and half-shrugging in disdain for her brother and his friends.

Miraculously, she had stopped in front of a compartment that was empty. No, Ginny saw with disappointment that someone had left their cloak in there, and a trunk was already stored within. She sighed, and shrugged again as she entered the compartment.

By the time Ginny took a seat and stared out of the window, the train had begun moving. She felt the familiar jerk as the train started, and then the smooth movement of the pistons beneath her as the Hogwarts Express left the train station. As she watched the scenery rush by, Ginny’s thoughts returned to her summer.

As usual, Fred and George Weasley had used her and Ron as guinea pigs for their newest inventions in their Diagon Alley shop, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Ginny honestly did not know how the twins had managed to open the shop in Diagon Alley, but she did not care. She looked down at her robes and smiled absently. The twins had made enough money in the short time that their store was open that they had bought Ginny a new cloak and one new robe. She shook her head slightly with disbelief, still admiring her cloak. After years of using hand-me-downs, she finally owned clothes that were rightfully hers.

With a slight smirk, Ginny was about to look out of the window again when her eyes caught the cloak that was draped over the back of the opposite seat. Curiosity got the best of her, and she got up to lift the cloak from the seat, searching for a nametag of some sort.

Ginny was so intent on what she was doing that she did not hear the door of the compartment softly slide open, and close again. Nor did she hear the stealthy footsteps behind her. Instead, Ginny gave up on her search and was just about to return the cloak to its original position, when she nearly had a heart attack.

Someone was so close behind her that she could feel their breath on the left side of her neck. They must have been frighteningly close to her if she could feel the heat of their breath through her long, thick red hair. But the real cause of the near coronary was the words that this mysterious person uttered.

“What’s this? A Weasley, discontent with being nobly poor, has now turned to thievery?” The words were bemused but menacing, and so quiet that they could have been mistaken as soothing and comforting. It was this strange paradox of emotions conveyed by these words that startled Ginny and made her jump. Her shoulders tensed and shuddered reflexively, while the heels of her shoes rose up an inch or so for a split second.

Ginny half-turned her body, and turned her face abruptly to her left shoulder. Standing behind her was a boy who seemed her age or a year older. He had dark brown hair like Harry’s, but his eyes were a light, startling blue. Those eyes were framed by unusually long eye lashes. His chin was rounded, but his face was generally lean, with high cheekbones. As Ginny’s eyes traveled down, she could see that he was dressed in silver and green, the colors of a Slytherin.

He was smiling at her, his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched her expression. “But – I wasn’t sure – so I checked – name…” Ginny stuttered, wide-eyed.

He stepped back from her, and shrugged. “If you were so interested, you could have asked. My name is Blaise Zabini.” He extended his hand towards her and asked, “So, may I have my cloak back?” His grin was wider now, but this time the smile seemed to reach his eyes. Ginny’s mouth opened in astonishment. Was he actually asking her for his cloak?

Blaise chuckled a little, which forced Ginny to shut her mouth with a snap. She extended the cloak to him mutely. “Thanks,” he said sincerely, and moved towards his seat. Ginny mutely moved back towards her seat and sat down, confused and shocked beyond belief. Blaise was seated directly in front of her.

They sat staring at each other for a minute or so, until Blaise spoke again. “You know, I may be in Slytherin, but I don’t bite.” He was watching her bemusedly.

Ginny flushed, and turned her gaze to the floor as she muttered, “I never thought you’d bite me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Blaise rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, as though trying to catch her face. “I’m well aware of the reputation we have.”

His sudden closeness to her brought Ginny’s head up with a start. Her brown eyes were speculative, but they soften when she saw the expression on his face. His blue eyes were still amused, but there was an earnestness there that she had only seen on her brothers’ faces. She raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Well, if you won’t bite me, then why are you talking to me?”

Blaise sat up again, and counted on his fingers, “Well, let’s see. We’re in a train compartment that’s only occupied by… oh, the two of us.” He continued counting, “Plus, I’m a teenage male, and you’re a beautiful teenage female. Oh yeah, it’s also a long trip to Hogwarts and I don’t plan on sleeping when I get to see your lovely face.” He crossed his arms against his chest, smirking at her.

As Blaise stated these reasons, an unfamiliar warmth had threaded its way inside Ginny’s chest and throughout her limbs. She could not deny that he was handsome, and the minute she thought about it she began to blush a deeper shade of red. She turned her face towards the window to compose herself, then turned to him and stated “Thank you for the compliment, but I highly doubt that I’m so beautiful. Anyway, you know that I’m a Weasley.” She paused and tilted her head to the side, as though considering him. “Why would you want to be seen with trash like me?” she asked, harshly.

“Because…” Blaise began, rolling his eyes as though she had asked a stupid question. But he was not allowed to finish that sentence. Someone, who was obviously in a rush, had opened their compartment door. This blur of blonde hair and black robes entered the compartment, but stuck their head out of the doorway; they whipped their head to the left and right to check up and down the deserted corridor, and then pulled back and slid the door shut. This mysterious blonde turned around and leaned against it with closed eyes, releasing a sigh of relief. Ginny immediately recognized his pointy chin, pale skin, and tall, lean figure as those belonging to Draco Malfoy.

Draco opened his eyes, and looked to his left. He stood up straight and said with pleasure, “Zabini! Thank Merlin I found you! I never thought I’d escape from that cow…” Draco’s eyes turned towards his right, and rested on Ginny. “Weasley?” he asked with surprise.

Draco’s surprise quickly turned to a sneer, as he told her, “I suggest you run back to little Potty. We men have some things –“

Blaise cut him off. “Oh, where are my manners? Ms. Weasley, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to Mr. Draco Malfoy,” Blaise gestured towards Draco while watching Ginny. Blaise turned towards Draco and said, “Draco, let me introduce you to Ms… err, sorry, but I don’t think I caught your name,” Blaise said innocently, once more turning towards Ginny.

Ginny sighed, but answered, “It’s Ginevra, but everyone just calls me Ginny.”

That statement caught both boys’ attentions, albeit for different reasons. Draco, who was now sitting next to Blaise, snorted and started to laugh derisively. Blaise, on the other hand, was thoughtfully gazing at Ginny with his bright blue eyes, his right hand lightly scratching his dark head. Blaise tilted his head head, as though sizing Ginny up, and said, “You know, that Ginny thing is ridiculous. You’re much more of a Ginevra.”

Draco stopped laughing suddenly, and stared at Blaise incredulously. Ginny raised an eyebrow in surprise, and was speechless; the only answer that she could come up with was, “Oh.”

Draco elbowed Blaise in the ribs and hissed, “What the hell is wrong with you, Zabini?”

“What?” Blaise asked defensively, turning to his right to look at Draco. “She really looks like a Ginevra to me. I mean, look at her!”

Draco gritted his teeth, and still looking at Blaise, replied, “Since when did you give a shit about a Weasley?”

“Honestly, Draco, your language! And to answer your question, I’ve cared about her since we became friends,” Blaise answered innocently. He turned to Ginny and asked, “Isn’t that right, Ginevra? Aren’t we friends?”

Ginny, still recovering from shock, only nodded her head mutely.

Draco stood up, his hands in fists at his sides, and glared down at Blaise. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouted. Glancing at Ginny, he turned back to Blaise and lowered his voice to a hiss, “What happens when they find out?”

Blaise snorted, “Really, Draco, I keep telling you. My parents and the rest of Slytherin can kiss You-Know-Who’s ass anytime they want. That doesn’t mean that I have to. And anyway, what are you so worried about?” Blaise was grinning up at Draco mischievously. “Wouldn’t this be a great way to get rid of ‘that cow’?”

Draco stood still, his silver eyes now wide with disbelief. Gingerly, he sat down again, still glaring at Blaise. Suddenly, comprehension dawned on Draco, and his turned his attention to Ginny with a smirk. “Well, then in that case…” Draco nodded at Ginny, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ginevra.”

Note: A HUGE shout-out to dracoslytheringal from fanfiction.net. She was the one who a) encouraged me to write a fanfic of my own, and b) beta-ed this chapter. She’s also the author of a wonderful fanfic of her own, Fallen which is also D/G. I’m beta-ing that one, so if you’re reading this, check hers out too!

too many voices
it won't take long
which one's right
and which one's wrong
and yours is most likely to be misunderstood
- Lifehouse

Distractions

Ginny sat there, staring blankly at the two boys grinning in front of her. Suddenly, everything that had just occurred hit her. Had Malfoy actually said it was a pleasure to meet her? Then, she remembered that he only said that after Blaise told him something about a cow… Ginny sat upright, furious. “I refuse to be a pawn that the two of you use to get back at the rest of Slytherin or that pug-faced Pansy!” she shouted at both of them, her hands in fists. Then she turned to Blaise, “And if that’s what you consider a friend to be-“

Blaise leaned forward and held up his palm, interrupting her again. “Ginevra, I only said that to get Draco to talk to you. You know how he is with you Weasleys. When I first met you, I wasn’t going to use you or anything, honestly!” He wore a concerned expression.

“Then why the bloody hell did you want to be friends with me?” Ginny gritted through her teeth.

“Because…you seemed… interesting,” Blaise stammered lamely.

At this, Draco snickered, but stopped when both Blaise and Ginny glared at him. Ginny sighed resignedly and leaned back in her seat. “I’m ‘interesting’?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you are,” Blaise stated sincerely. Ginny looked at him, silently asking him to explain. He sighed and said, “Well, you’re beautiful, you have more brains than that stupid brother of yours…” Draco grunted with agreement. “Plus, I’ve been watching you since that ‘incident’ your first year.” This time, both Ginny and Draco stared at Blaise in shock. “I noticed how the school avoided you, and that those friends of yours never paid attention to you,” he continued unwaveringly. “So, I figured that I was bored and you were… well, interesting,” Blaise finished, and turned his gaze to the floor.

Ginny’s mouth dropped open. He had noticed her? A Slytherin? And from the looks of things, he was embarrassed about telling her about it! After a short pause she said, “I can’t believe you saw that. Even my brothers and my friends never noticed what I was feeling.” She stopped, looked at Blaise’s averted face and asked softly, “You know who gave me Tom Riddle’s diary, don’t you?”

Blaise looked back at her, and opened his mouth to answer. “My father was a complete ass to give you that diary.” Ginny looked at Blaise with confusion, and then turned to Draco, realizing that he had spoken. Draco’s elbows were resting on his knees, and he had leaned forward to watch her. His silver eyes were furious, his blond hair falling in his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re a Weasley or if you were close to Potter. No one deserves to have that happen to them.”

Blaise, who had finally found his voice, added, “Draco had quite a tiff with his father about that.” When Ginny dragged her eyes away from Draco and looked to Blaise, he continued with a wry grin, “We grew pretty disillusioned with the whole Death Eater scene after that.”

Ginny looked at both of them, amazed again. Then she turned to Draco and said, “But you’ve made my life a living hell since then! All you ever do is tease Harry and Ron and call Hermione a m-”

“Well, just because I pity you doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun from time to time.” Draco interrupted as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. He was smirking at her again, his eyes narrowed a bit.

She glared at him. “Pity me? You pity me?” Her angry gaze now encompassed both Blaise and Draco. “I don’t need your damn pity,” she said through clenched teeth. She stood up, still furious, and clenched her fists at her sides. “I may not be noticed by my friends or completely happy with them, but I can take care of myself!” With that, she shoved open the compartment door and left, leaving the two stunned Slytherins watching her retreating form.

Ginny walked as fast as she possibly could away from the compartment. She heard the door slide open again and footsteps pounding the floor behind her, but she kept walking resolutely forward. Before she could leave the car, someone grabbed her arm and forced her to twist around. Ginny’s gaze fell on Blaise, but before he could say anything, she angrily said, “Sod off, Zabini.”

Blaise shut his mouth, and looked a little hurt. “Zabini, is it? What happened to Blaise?” he asked her.

Ginny just gave him a disgusted look, and tried to wriggle free from his grasp. But he just held on to her arm tighter. “I’m sorry Ginevra, Draco’s a complete prat and we don’t pity you. I already told you that he only started talking to you so he could get back at everyone else. But you know why I started talking to you Ginevra?” Blaise insisted, and Ginny momentarily stopped wriggling her arm to listen. “I think you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, and I’m not saying that to manipulate you. I mean it!”

Ginny sighed with defeat, and looked at him a bit curiously. “Tell me, why aren’t more Slytherins as charming as you are?” she teased.

Blaise grinned and said, “They are this charming, but only when they really want something. You’d be surprised how easy it is to manipulate people with a smile and a few nice words.”

Ginny smacked him playfully on his arm, as he yelped theatrically. They both stood grinning at each other for a minute. Blaise finally released her arm and asked, “Shall we go back then?”

Ginny stopped grinning, and returned, “But what about Malfoy?”

Blaise waved his hand impatiently, turned around, and dragged her back to the compartment. After he slid the compartment door open, he ushered her in and closed it. They both turned to find Draco standing and looking at Ginny intently. His face was impassive, but his eyes betrayed compassion of sorts. “I’m, err…” he began, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “I’m… I… regret saying that to you.”

Ginny looked at him, and smirked a little. “What’s wrong, Malfoy?” she asked innocently. “Have you never said ‘I’m sorry’ before?”

Blaise snickered when two faint pink spots appeared on Draco’s cheeks. Draco glared at Blaise, but that only made Blaise guffaw out loud. This in turn sent Ginny into a fit of giggles. So, for two minutes, the blond Slytherin clenched his fists and stood while the other two occupants of the compartment laughed openly at him. When they finally quieted a little, Draco merely glared at Ginny, and sat down again. He folded his arms across his chest and pouted like a little boy.

When Ginny witnessed this reaction, she let out another peal of laughter. Blaise once again joined her, and they both tried to sit while shaking with laughter. When Ginny finally stopped to breathe, she croaked, “Well, Draco… your strange little apology…” she giggled again, “is accepted.”

Draco sighed audibly and relaxed in his seat. He intertwined his fingers behind his head, and stretched his legs in front of him while leaning back. He looked at Ginny, and smirked a little when he said, “I only apologized for you having to hear that. I never apologized for saying those words.”

Ginny stopped grinning, and just glared at Draco. “Fine then!” she replied, turning up her nose at him, “Be a git all you want. I’m only tolerating you because of Blaise.” She turned to Blaise and smiled at him.

Blaise smiled back at her and was about to reply, when the door slid open again with a loud bang. Ron stormed into the compartment, followed by Harry and Hermione. “Ginny,” Ron began, “where the bloody hell have you been? Why the hell did we have to search for you all over this damn train? And why…” he trailed off, and his eyes lighted on Draco and Blaise. If it was possible, Ron’s face became even more distorted and his voice even louder as he bellowed furiously, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SLIMY GITS DOING WITH MY SISTER?”

Blaise and Draco turned to each other, each with a raised eyebrow. Draco turned away and sneered at Ron as he replied, “Oh, I forgot to tell you Weasley! We’re your sister’s friends.”

“Friends?” asked Harry before Ron could reply. “Friends don’t go around tormenting other friends or calling them a mudblood,” he said angrily. “Tell them, Ginny,” he said, turning to Ginny as he spoke.

Ginny looked at Harry, and then looked at Draco speculatively. She shrugged and retorted, “Well, I’m his friend, not his mother. He knows that I don’t approve of his past actions, but it’s really up to him to change…”

Hermione came forward from her position behind Ron, and gaped at Ginny. “Ginny, how could you say that?” she inquired, obviously hurt.

“Forget that shit,” Ron interjected angrily. “What the hell is this nonsense about them being friends? We all know that we’re your friends, and I’m your brother, for Merlin’s sake!” His temper was rising by the second, but he calmed down a bit and continued, “Come on, Ginny, let’s go somewhere else, where we can talk… alone!” while he glared at the two Slytherins.

Ginny crossed her arms across her chest, and shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere, Ron, so you can just bugger off!”

It was Ron’s turn to gape at her this time. He started to sputter something, before Harry piped up, “But Ginny, how could you prefer to be with them? Don’t you know he’s a Malfoy and that’s just his crony?” He asked as he jabbed a finger at Draco and then at Blaise.

“Well, Harry,” Ginny replied icily, “Blaise happens to be my best friend, not just his crony. And if it makes you feel any better,” she sighed, “Draco’s only here because Blaise is. Otherwise, he wouldn’t dare come near me.” With that, she smirked at Draco, her brown eyes glinting at him.

Ron had found his voice again, “Wait till Mum hears this!” he shouted at Ginny, “And Dad! Don’t you know who Lucius Malfoy is? He’s the son of a bitch who gave you that damn diary and ruined your first year. And now you’re-”

Ginny interrupted his tirade, “I know full well who Lucius Malfoy is, Ron. But in case you didn’t notice, this is Draco Malfoy,” she said bitterly, “And he is most definitely not his father! So why don’t you just FUCK OFF!”

Ron just stood there for a moment, surprise and anger still evident on his face. “Fine then,” he sighed, “Just wait until I tell Mum!” He turned around, flanked by his best friends. As he slid open the compartment door, he threw over his shoulder, “I’d be expecting a Howler any day now, Ginny.” He stalked out of the compartment heatedly.

The compartment fell quiet until Blaise said, “Now you know what I meant when I said that you were much nicer than that damn brother of yours,” grinning at Ginny.

Ginny smirked a little, and then sighed, “But he’s going to tell Mum, and I will get a Howler. He’s just that much of an ass…”

“Well,” Blaise said, leaning forward, “Won’t it just irk him if we continued to be friends after that?” He was grinning evilly, his eyebrows raised. Ginny sighed, and looked out the window. Blaise put his hand on her knee and whispered, “Ginevra.”

Ginny’s head snapped back and she looked at him. Her eyes seemed sad and a little reluctant. “But what will I do when everyone else I know abandons me? You guys really aren’t going to be too popular with the Slytherins, and the Gryffindors will hate me…” Her thoughts trailed off miserably.

Blaise shook his head and replied, “Honestly, Ginevra, do you think we give a shit about what Slytherins think? This is our last year at Hogwarts! I’ll be surprised if I see half of them again after I graduate. And, well,” he fidgeted a little, “I don’t think they’re going to mind as much… uh, once Draco and I are through with them.” He threw Draco a sharp look, and Draco nodded his head.

“Are you sure you won’t…” Ginny blushed and hung her head. Her next words were barely an audible whisper, “leave me?”

“Ginevra, get up,” Blaise said sternly as he stood up. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes, shaking her head. He reached forward to grab her arms, but she cringed away from him. He sighed, and said in a gentler voice, “I’m not going to hurt you, Ginevra. I just want to hug you,” and he sighed dejectedly.

Ginny’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. His shoulders were a little slumped, and he was staring at his feet. She timidly rose out of her seat, and before she knew it, Blaise had enveloped her in a warm embrace. She sank into his arms, leaning her head against his shoulder, sighing contentedly. She inhaled a little, smelling rain and his aftershave. They were both reminded of where they were when Draco cleared his throat.

Blaise released his arms and looked down at her with a grin. “I won’t leave you unless you don’t want me, Ginevra.”

Ginny smiled up at him and whispered, “Thanks,” before she sank into her seat again. Blaise sat down again, and grinned at Draco. Draco just glared at him with a snort, and muttered something about “growing soft.”

For the next hour, Ginny and Blaise talked about their respective summers. Draco often interrupted with a snide remark or a snort; the only response that he got was a sharp poke by Blaise’s elbow each time – Ginny just ignored him. They continued pleasantly until the train pulled to a stop at the Hogwarts station.

does it scare you that I can
be something different than you?
would it make you feel more comfortable if I wasn’t?
you can’t control me
and you can’t take away from me who I am
- Lifehouse

The Beginning

Draco had drifted into a fitful sleep while Ginny and Blaise talked. He was jerked awake as the train slowed to a stop. Blaise looked at the bleary-eyed Draco, cleared his throat with annoyance, and looked at Ginny. “Well, Ginevra,” he smiled, “we’re here!”

Ginny smiled back; all of her suspicions about Blaise were gone. During their conversation, he had spoken honestly about his family and his summer. Apparently, his family wanted him to become a Death Eater, but Ginny was certain that he would not become one because of the absolute disgust Blaise had shown for it. His summer was spent learning a variety of hexes and curses, as well as dabbling in the Dark Arts. When he had heard that Ginny had spent her summer as a tester for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, he seemed almost envious of her. Ginny knew that if Blaise was jealous of her, then his summer had definitely been horrific.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Blaise stood up to put on his cloak. Draco also managed to push himself up, and was now stretching. Ginny sighed, stood up, and arranged her cloak about her shoulders. She nodded at both boys and was about to leave when she felt a hand clamp down on her arm. Turning quickly, she saw that Draco had stopped her. With a smirk he said, “No one’s going to believe that we’re friends if we don’t enter the Great Hall together.”

Ginny twisted around a little further and saw that Blaise was nodding emphatically. She groaned, “All right then, how are we going to enter?” she asked. Draco looked slightly confused, so she continued, “Should I follow you, with Blaise behind me? Or should I follow both of you? Or-”

“How about side-by-side?” Blaise interrupted. “Draco on your left, me on your right,” he said, nudging Draco. “That’ll make quite the impression, eh Draco?”

Draco nodded and smirked again. “Scarhead and his friends won’t know what to think.”

Ginny laughed a little, and slid open the compartment door, beckoning the two Slytherins to follow her. “Ron will have my head for it, but I could care less,” she stated nonchalantly.

As Ginny was preparing to step down from the train, she found that Draco had offered her his arm in mock gallantry. She laughed and smacked him, but accepted his proffered arm. They found an empty carriage, and were swept off to Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry together.

Ginny hung on Draco’s arm as they walked through the entrance towards the Great Hall. As they entered the Hall, she realized that Blaise’s predictions were painfully accurate. All of the murmuring and laughter died down, and Ginny was uncomfortably aware that everyone’s eyes were on them. Instead of panicking, she forced herself to smile sweetly up at Draco and hug Blaise. Ginny suddenly realized that she was being a bit overdramatic when she buried her face into Blaise’s shoulder, so she broke away quickly. Blaise winked down at her as they separated and sat down at their respective house tables. Once Ginny was seated, the whispers began again; this time they sounded like a furious hum of bees, but it did not bother her.

As the Sorting Ceremony began, Ginny found her mind drifting away. She thought about both Draco and Blaise. They were good friends, which was obvious, but they were so different from each other. Blaise was open, friendly, and awfully funny. Sure, he was just as devious as any other Slytherin, but that only seemed to add to his personality rather than detract from it. In fact, if he had had red hair, Ginny would be willing to wager that he was a long-lost brother of hers.

Draco, on the other hand, was a complete mystery. He only seemed to tease her and smirk a lot, but he had fought with his father about the diary incident. What had he said? Something about how no one deserved that, even if they were a Weasley. Ginny rolled her eyes inwardly as she thought about that. Draco had apparently not lost his distaste for Weasleys. But he had gotten over that quickly to make Ginny’s acquaintance. He had even defended her in front of Ron. Why had he offered her his arm as she disembarked? Ginny flushed a little when she remembered that Draco had tucked her arm in his tightly, ensuring that she could not let go.

While puzzled over Draco’s actions, Ginny absentmindedly averted her gaze toward the Slytherin table. She sat up with a start when she realized that Draco was watching her speculatively. Next to him, Blaise grinned and waved when he saw her looking that way. Ginny returned a grin, before turning her eyes back to Draco. He was smirked at her, and to her astonishment, winked at her. Instead of jumping back in surprise, which was her first instinct, Ginny forced herself to grin even wider and wink back at him. If it were possible, his smirk just grew wider. Ginny just rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention to the staff table.

The Sorting had finished, for Professor Dumbledore had risen and was preparing to speak. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” he said, his voice booming throughout the entire hall. “Before I bore you all to death,” he continued, “I suggest that you… tuck in!” With two claps of his hands, food appeared on the tables, and the Welcoming Feast began.

Ginny was sitting next to Ron, forcing her to ask him to pass the food her way several times. He only grunted in response and did as she asked, never looking at her or speaking to her. Ginny sighed inwardly, knowing that she would have to speak to him soon. Hermione, who was sitting opposite Ron, kept shooting concerned looks in her direction, but Ginny carefully ignored them.

Ginny propped her left elbow on the table, and held her head as she chewed her food discontentedly. She chanced a look at the Slytherin table again, and saw Blaise waving to get her attention. While she watched him, he mouthed, “Wait for us,” and inclined his head towards the doorway of the Great Hall as he looked at her. She nodded and smiled, realizing that he wanted her to wait for them when the feast was over.

Ginny let her eyes wander about the hall, and suddenly realized that Harry was watching her. When she looked at him, he dropped his gaze quickly, triggering a flush that spread over his cheeks. Ginny just shrugged mentally and continued to chew.

Once the feast had finished and Dumbledore had made his usual beginning of the year remarks, the students began filing out of the Great Hall. Ginny reached the doorway and waited there silently for Blaise. As other Slytherins passed by Ginny, they gave her superior smirks. Some fell to whispering right in front of her, while others just nudged each other and winked knowingly. With all of the murmurs of the students leaving the hall, Ginny was able to discern one clear, low voice say, “I’ll bet she’s doing both of them to get back at Potter. Everyone knows she’s been crazy about him for years, but he doesn’t even know she exists.”

Ginny’s paled when she heard this, but she held her head up bravely and refused to be intimidated by such a comment. Inwardly, she was seething. But all thoughts of that statement drained from her when she saw Blaise and Draco approaching her. Pansy Parkinson had latched onto Draco, her arms wrapped around his waist possessively. Draco was trying to remove her arms from him very unsuccessfully. Instead, he was just dragging her along with him as he walked. When both boys and Parkinson spotted Ginny, she saw Draco’s eyes light up with relief. With a quick movement, he managed to push off Parkinson, and sprinted over to Ginny, hugging her tightly.

Ginny was momentarily stunned as she stood stiffly in his embrace. She soon sank into it, and clasped her arms around his back. She closed her eyes as she leaned in, and could smell polished leather and a sweet, expensive soap. “Oh Drakie,” cooed Pansy, standing next to them. “Why did you run to a bloody Gryffindor? You know that I’m always here for you, Drakie. After all, I’m in your own house. And, I’m always nearby for easy access-”

“Bloody hell, Pansy!” Blaise blurted out, “You sound more and more like a whore as each year goes by.”

Ginny stifled a fit of giggles using Draco’s chest when she heard Pansy’s loud huff. They pulled away from each other when they heard Pansy walking away. Draco smirked and gave her a wink, while wrapping his arm around her to usher her out. As they left the hall, Blaise hurried behind, matching their pace when he was on the other side of Ginny. When Ginny saw him, she threw her head back and laughed out loud. This time, both boys joined in her laughter as they walked down the dark, echoing hallways of Hogwarts together.

After she spent two hours in an empty classroom with Blaise and Draco, talking and laughing, she decided to head back to Gryffindor Tower. The three of them walked through the halls confidently; after all, Draco was Head Boy. If they were caught by Filch, Draco would claim that he was escorting them back to their houses. They stopped before they reached the portrait leading to the Gryffindor Tower; Draco refused to get anywhere near “those bloody Potter-lovers.” Ginny just hugged both of them, laughing, “I should thank both of you for tonight. I’ve never had that much fun while driving people batty and causing a huge scene.”
Blaise grinned at her, while Draco just smirked back. Blaise then dramatically bowed to Ginny, waving his hand deferentially as he said, “It was our pleasure, Ms. Ginevra.”

Ginny laughed again, leaving them with a cheerful “Good night.” When she reached the portrait leading to the Gryffindor common room, she heard the Fat Lady’s imperious “Password?” only to realize that she did not know it. Ginny smacked herself in the head and muttered, “Shit!” She tried explaining this to the Fat Lady, but was refused entrance. Ginny slumped against the wall next to the portrait in defeat; she slid down to the floor and leaned her head back, dozing off.

Later that night, Ginny was woken by someone shaking her shoulder roughly and a concerned, “Ginny! Wake up!” She muttered something groggily and tried to open her eyes. She could not see a person in front of her, but she looked to her shoulder and found a white hand. That could only mean that they were wearing an invisibility cloak.

“Harry?” she whispered, trying to wake herself completely. Indeed, the invisibility cloak was removed and Harry emerged from beneath it. He looked at Ginny concernedly when he asked, “Are you all right, Ginny? What are you doing out here at this time of night?”

Ginny mumbled, “Password,” and Harry nodded in understanding. He helped her stand, turned towards the portrait and muttered, “Hippogriff.” The portrait door swung open, Harry helping Ginny crawl into the common room as he followed behind her. When they stood and straightened themselves out, Ginny smiled at Harry and thanked him.

He looked at her speculatively before he asked, “Ginny? Do you think we could talk for a bit?”

At this point, Ginny was fully awake, so she nodded and they moved to the squashy armchairs before the dwindling fire. Harry cleared his throat, “Well… I, err, wanted to ask you… why are you friends with Malfoy and Zabini?” he inquired.

Ginny sighed tiredly, before responding to his blunt question, “Honestly, Harry, you don’t have to worry about me. They’re just new acquaintances of mine.”

But Harry persisted, “See, that’s just it, Ginny. You’ve never talked to them before this year – at least I don’t think you have – and now they’re your friends. Doesn’t it seem a bit… suspicious?”

Ginny smiled wanly at him. “I know they’re Slytherins, Harry. And I’m always on my guard whenever I’m around them. I will admit that, yes, it does seem a bit suspicious. But,” she shrugged, “You never know. I just might find a good friend in all of this.”

Harry paled. “Is that it, Ginny? Have we not been good friends? Because if that’s the case, you don’t have to-”

“No, Harry, I didn’t mean it that way,” Ginny interrupted as she held up her hand to stop him. “What I meant was… well, I’m bored with just being friends with Gryffindors.” Harry still looked offended, so she tried to explain. “I enjoy being your friend, Harry, but there are just so many interesting people in this school. I’d love to meet them all, to find their quirks, cheer their triumphs and help soothe their hurts.”

“Bullshit!” Harry snorted. “That git Malfoy is not interesting, and he’s next in line to become a Death Eater!”

Ginny looked at him quietly. “Maybe you’re right, and maybe you’re wrong. But I’m going to give Blaise and Draco a chance,” she retorted as she rose. After bidding goodnight to a very stunned Harry, she climbed the stairs to her dormitory.


Note: Ginny is really not this innocent. She was trying to come up with something to get Harry off her back.

so many lies
are taking hold
it’s not your fault
there’s many scars
I am on your side
it’s taking me a long time
- Pete Yorn

Trust
Ginny woke up the next morning feeling more refreshed than she had the entire summer. As she thought about the past weeks, she grinned wryly. Who would have thought that the sweet, innocent Ginny Weasley would befriend Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini? Ever since that fateful train ride to Hogwart’s, the three of them had become inseparable. Draco still held hands with her whenever Pansy was in sight. And when she and Blaise walked through the halls together, Blaise always had his arm casually draped across her shoulders. Blaise still smelled like rain and wind, while Draco still had that lingering scent of new leather…
Ginny flushed, wondering why it mattered to her when either of the boys touched her. But she couldn’t help herself – every time they touched her, she felt more confident and comfortable with herself. The few times that she had hugged her family members had never instilled that kind of confidence in her. With the two Slytherins, Ginny felt like she was proud to be herself; with her family, she was merely proud of being a part of them. Ginny snorted as she pushed away the covers and hopped out of bed. She wasn’t so sure that she would be proud of being a Weasley when her family heard about her new friends.
Surprisingly, Ron had not sent word to Mrs. Weasley about Ginny becoming friends with the two Slytherins. It seemed that Harry had told both Ron and Hermione exactly what Ginny had said to him their first night back. Ron steadfastly refused to initiate conversation with her, but at least he didn’t avoid her. Hermione still looked at Ginny anxiously, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Harry also continued to watch her, looking extremely serious every time he saw Ginny with Blaise and Draco. Ginny just continued to do as she pleased and ignored her brother and his friends, having had more than enough of them.
When Ginny pushed open the doors to the Great Hall that morning, she was met with the usual muted whispering that always accompanied her entrance. The rest of the school was still unsure of what to make of her, and the whispers only grew louder when she sat down. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws still believed that she was trying to snag either Draco or Blaise as a boyfriend. The Slytherins just kept their mouths shut, content with sneering at Ginny superiorly whenever they passed her.

Ginny now made a point to sit facing the Slytherin table, so that she was able to look at Blaise or Draco whenever she felt lonely at the Gryffindor table. Everyone in her house avoided Ginny, much like they had in her first year. She sighed and began filling her plate with food, and watched the Slytherin table while she ate. Pansy was sitting next to Draco with her arms flung around his neck. Draco had managed to move away from her, and was catapulting food at Blaise with his spoon. Blaise’s shots were woefully inaccurate, for they consistently hit Pansy in the face or her hair. Pansy began to whine at both of them, which only made them laugh out loud at her. She finally got up with a huff and sat next to Millicent Bulstrode, shooting Blaise and Draco dirty looks throughout the rest of the meal.

Ginny couldn’t resist grinning at their antics; years with her brothers had shown her the humor in situations such as this. As though reading her mind, Blaise turned and looked straight at her, grinning. Ginny grinned back, sticking her tongue out at him. With eyes widened in playful horror, he began mouthing threats at her. Ginny couldn’t make out all of what he said, but she thought she recognized, “pay back,” “feed,” and “lake.” Mulling over these words, she suddenly realized that Blaise was threatening to feed her to the squid in the lake. Ginny just rolled her eyes and waved her hand at him dismissing his threats.

“Are you ok, Ginny?” Harry asked when he saw her motion.

“What? Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Ginny said as pleasantly as she could. Harry had become annoyingly polite ever since that conversation, as though trying to be a “better friend.” Ginny stared at her plate so that she could hide another roll of her eyes with her hair. She didn’t want to become better friends with Harry – it was bad enough that she used to have a horrible crush on him. A few years ago, she would have fainted if he asked her that simple question; now, she just wanted to be rid of him.

Harry was oblivious to her sentiments, of course, so he blithely continued, “You know, there’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Ginny muttered noncommittally as she stuffed her mouth with scrambled eggs.

“Err…” Harry said, searching for words. “I, uh, was wondering if you were going.”

Ginny looked up sharply at this. “Yes, I was planning on going,” she said carefully. And then the dreaded words came.

“So, erm, why don’t we go… together?” Harry asked hesitantly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

It was really quite funny how much Ginny dreaded those words. She couldn’t stand the thought of going to Hogsmeade with Harry. Those Slytherins had affected her thinking more than she had imagined.

Ginny cleared her throat uncomfortably and stared down at her plate. “Well, Harry…” she began, “I was already planning on going with… Blaise and Draco.” Actually, she hadn’t asked them yet about their plan for Hogsmeade.

Harry shifted in his seat. “Well, I guess… maybe next time?” he asked hopefully.

Ginny sighed, knowing that she had to finish this before it started. She looked up at Harry and said, “Harry I’m sorry, but I don’t fancy you anymore.”

“Oh. Well, I never said anything about… that.” Harry replied as his face turned even redder. “I just wanted to… spend time with you is all.”

When he finally turned his eyes to Ginny’s, she looked into them piercingly. He was lying, and they both knew it. For the sake of his red face and dignity, she nodded and replied, “I’m sorry for that assumption, then. I just wanted to make sure that we had that out in the open.”

Harry nodded, but his heightened color had gradually sunk to pink. They both turned back to their breakfasts, ignoring each other.

When she finished her breakfast, Ginny rose from her seat composedly and walked to the door, waiting for Blaise and Draco. Draco was still dealing with Pansy, so Blaise caught up to her first and grinned before wrapping his arm around her. Ginny was laughing at him when she turned around to look for Draco. Her eyes momentarily fell on Harry; he was watching her with such wistfulness that she almost felt sorry for him.

Blaise interrupted her thoughts, “Why don’t we leave Draco with Pansy?” he asked as he smirked at her. Ginny nodded eagerly, and they left the Great Hall. As they walked through the hall, Ginny looked up at Blaise, “Blaise, what are you doing for Hogsmeade weekend?” she asked.

“Well, I intend to go with you, if you’ll have me,” Blaise replied with another smirk.

Ginny poked him in the side with her elbow while asking, “And what about Draco?”

“Yes, and what about me?” asked a furious voice behind them. Ginny and Blaise stopped and turned to find Draco rubbing viciously at his cheek. Ginny looked at Draco questioningly, so he removed his hand to reveal a red lipstick smear. When she and Blaise began laughing, Draco stormed past them towards his class. Ginny had been laughing so hard that she was still stifling giggles as she sat down for her Charms class.

After dinner, Ginny sat with Draco and Blaise in an empty classroom. Draco was leaning against the cold stone wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Blaise and Ginny were sitting at two desks where Blaise was regaling her with stories from his classes that day.

“When it blew up, Snape gave both Longbottom and Potter detention tomorrow night!” Blaise finished with a laugh.

Ginny smiled but shook her head sadly. “That’s too bad for Harry – that Snape always has it in for him.”

Draco stopped staring into space, and snapped, “Still in love with Potter after all these years?”

“I’ve told you before, Draco, I’m over him,” Ginny replied exasperatedly. “It’s just… well, he had a hard day.”

“What do you mean, a ‘hard’ day? Everyone has one; why is his any different?” Blaise asked.

Ginny fidgeted a little, and replied, “Well, I did turn him down for Hogsmeade this morning…”

Draco whooped with delight and hurriedly took a seat next to Ginny. “All right, spill. I want to hear everything Scarhead said.”

Ginny sighed, and began, “Well, he asked me if I was going to Hogsmeade. I told him that I was going with you two…” She looked at Draco with a raised eyebrow.

Draco cleared his throat, looked at Blaise, and turned back to Ginny to reply, “Well, Father is going to get suspicious if he sees us together. I… uhm, have to go with Pansy.”

Ginny turned to Blaise with confusion. “But why doesn’t it matter if you go with me?”

“Well,” Blaise began, after casting a sidelong glance at Draco. “Err, Ginevra, there’s something we have to tell you.”

Ginny sat waiting patiently, and asked with irritation, “What?”

Blaise stood up and thrust his hands in his pockets uncomfortably. He paced a little before stopping in front of Ginny, and replied, “Well, Draco and I told our parents that we were… uh, pretending to be your friend.”

“What?” Ginny asked, shocked.

“Now, Ginevra,” Blaise said with a placating voice, “We had to tell them that we were your friend so that we could spy on Potter.”

Ginny rose with fury. “And all that shit about You-Know-Who kissing your ass – was that an act too?”

“Ginevra,” Draco said, standing up. “You have to understand. We’re the eldest sons of Death Eaters. Ever since we were babies, we were expected to become one of them. It’s not like we can go to You-Know-Who and tell him to kiss our asses.”

Blaise interrupted, “He’s right, Ginevra. We aren’t blessed with the kind of friends and family that you have. We can’t just tell our families that we want to be your friends because we like you. They would kill us.”

Ginny stood still, visibly wavering with indecision. She finally sat down and leaned her head on her hand. “So that’s what you meant when you said you’d ‘take care’ of the Slytherins,” she mumbled. In a louder voice, she exclaimed, “So that’s why they keep giving me those damn looks! They know about this!”

Both boys sat down, and Blaise nervously replied, “Yes.”

“But that means that you need inside information on Harry,” Ginny mumbled to herself, completely ignoring them. “Something that no one but his friends would know…” She looked at Blaise, her eyes blazing. “Are you sure you’re not playing tricks on me? Maybe you really are just spying on Harry through me.”

Blaise and Draco looked at each other nervously. Blaise sighed, “I knew you were going to say that.” He buried his head in his arms on the desk.

Ginny felt a light touch on her arm – it was Draco, who was trying to get her attention. “Listen, I know we seem really suspicious right now. But,” he ran his hand through his hair nervously, “You have to believe us, Ginevra. At least believe me.”

“Why should I believe you?” Ginny asked coldly.

“Do you think I would want to be seen with you if I were spying?” Draco asked incredulously. “You know how much I hated you and your brother before. Why would that change if I were spying on Potter?”

Ginny just looked at him skeptically. Draco sighed, “Yes I know, I am a good actor. But,” he pleaded, “No one knows about how we spend time together every night.” Another thought occurred to him, and he continued, “And if I were a spy, why wouldn’t I just let Blaise hang out with you? Why am I always present as well?”

He looked at Ginny, who was sitting back with a thoughtful look on her face. Draco blurted out, “I know you think that I’m only around you because of Pansy. But I must be losing my mind,” he said sarcastically, “because I’m starting to enjoy spending time with you, Ginevra.”

Ginny gave him a sharp look, but lessened her harshness when she saw that Draco’s eyes were a soft, shiny gray and he had a genuine grin on his face. She shook her head as though clearing it, “All right, I guess I believe you.” Blaise looked up with hopeful eyes as she continued, “But it’s going to take me a while to really trust both of you. And I don’t know what to do about Harry…”

Blaise nodded eagerly, “We know Ginevra, but that doesn’t matter now. All that matters is you’re giving us a chance!” With that, he swept her up in a warm embrace.

these are the days that are split down the middle
no words to calm me down
be sure that what you dream of
won’t come to hunt you out
- Bush

Complications

That night, Ginny returned to the Gryffindor Tower with a serious expression. As she stepped into the common room, she realized that she was not alone; Ron and Hermione were snogging on one of the sofas by the fireplace. Ginny sneaked past them to reach the dormitory stairs, however the minute her foot rested on the first step, she heard, “Ginny?”

Sighing in defeated, Ginny turned around. Ron was standing behind her frowning and had his arms crossed over his chest. Hermione stood behind him, her hand on his arm.

“Ginny, why the hell are you up so late?” Ron began.

“Well, why the hell are you up so late?” Ginny retorted.

Ron’s face turned an angry shade of red. “Gin, I demand to know what the hell you were doing out past curfew!”

Ginny shrugged and turned back to climb the stairs, throwing over her shoulder, “I was just hanging out with friends.”

Ron ran to her and grabbed her by the wrist, preventing her from moving. “I’ve got a better question for you,” he snarled. “Why did you turn down Harry for Hogsmeade weekend?”

Ginny whirled around, her eyes blazing. “Because I’m going with someone else!”

“Oh? And who would this lucky bastard be?” Ron asked sarcastically. Before Ginny could answer him, he said, “It’s either Zabini or Malfoy, isn’t it?”

Ginny just glared at him in silence. Ron released his grip on her slightly, lowering his voice. “Honestly Gin, what happened to you? I know you still like Harry – isn’t this the perfect opportunity?”

“Well, you obviously don’t know anything,” Ginny said viciously, wrenching her arm free. “I haven’t liked Harry since my third year. And I’m going with Blaise as friends. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

Hermione piped up, “Ginny, did they put you under the Imperius Curse or something?”

Ginny looked at her with such hatred that Hermione shrank back in fear. “I am NOT under the Imperius! I am doing this out of my own will, and it’s none of your bloody business what I do with MY life!” She yelled as she stomped up the stairs in anger.

“Ginny!” Ron yelled up the stairs at her. “I think I will tell Mum and Dad about your new friends…”

Ginny stopped, looking down at him and smirked. “No, you won’t Ron.”

“And what’s going to stop me?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest childishly.

“Oh, just the fact that Mum still doesn’t know about you and Hermione. Even if she is happy about it, you know how she gets when we hide things from her,” Ginny answered assuredly.

Ron paled. “Err, there’s nothing going on between me and… Hermione,” he said uncertainly. Hermione whacked him in the back of the head and squealed, “How could you?” She cried as she ran away from him, but Ron turned around and chased her.

Ginny laughed to herself. Ron must be growing stupider and stupider as the years passed. With a shake of her head, she continued up the stairs.

When she slipped into her bed that night, Ginny realized that she still hadn’t figured out what information to pass along about Harry. She racked her brain, trying to think of something that would not seriously hinder the Order of the Phoenix but would also be believable. As she slowly drifted to sleep, she remembered Hermione’s question, “Are you under the Imperius?”

The next day was rainy, with dark gray clouds hanging overhead. The weather seemed to match her mood perfectly. Ginny still did not know if she could trust either Blaise or Draco, she had to find gossip about Harry, and her brother and his girlfriend were acting like dumbasses. Ginny had the sinking feeling that she was alone in this situation; instead of crying about this, she decided to let her Weasley temper take control.

“Typical October weather,” Ginny mumbled as she walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. The silence that greeted her entrance only made her angrier than before. Blaise and Draco were still playing around at the Slytherin table, but she didn’t have the energy to watch them. Instead, she focused on shoveling food into her mouth and leaving the Hall as quickly as possible.

When she was finished with her breakfast, Ginny immediately rose and left the Hall. She couldn’t spend one more minute hearing those obnoxious whispers. Why couldn’t people just leave her alone? She had never caused anyone any trouble before – well, except for her first year. But that was ages ago, and now all people seemed to talk about was whether she was sleeping with Blaise or Draco! As though that was her only purpose in life: to get laid by a Slytherin!

“Ginevra?” Blaise interrupted. Ginny sighed and slowed her pace, as Blaise caught up with her. “What’s wrong, Ginevra?” he asked earnestly.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Ginny replied bitingly.

Blaise stopped and looked at her sternly, both of his hands on his hips. “I highly doubt that, Ginevra Weasley. Now tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened, all right?” Ginny sighed. Blaise was still skeptical, so she continued; “I’m just all out of sorts today. I… I just need some time alone, is all.”

Blaise still looked unconvinced, but nodded and allowed her to pass. As Ginny turned a corner in the hallway, she heard him call out, “Don’t forget that I’m always here for you, Ginevra!”

“Oh bollocks, will he ever shut up?” Ginny mumbled as she made her way down to Potions.

After her classes that day, Ginny bumped into Draco in the hall. “Gin, there’s something that you have to see,” he said, dragging her to one of the exits. Ginny started mumbling while Draco admonished, “Oh shut it.”

By the time Ginny collected her wits, she realized that Draco was running to the lake. He was moving so fast that it took all of Ginny’s energy just to keep up with him. He stopped at the edge of the lake and pointed to the horizon, urging her to look.

Ginny stood there, her amazement making her speechless. The sun was low in the sky, but a low-lying layer of fog mitigated its light. The lake was completely placid and looked like a giant mirror that stretched into eternity. The hills that surrounded it on either side were mirrored perfectly in the water. This effect reminded Ginny of stalactites and stalagmites; the hills were so perfectly reflected that it gave the illusion of masses of trees and dirt floating in the sky.

Ginny shivered involuntarily when a cool wind rustled her robes and blew back her hair. Draco draped his arm around her shoulder and rubbed her upper arm with his hand while pulling her closer to him. She sighed with contentment as she wrapped one of her arms around his waist. All of her loneliness and worries melted away from her as they stood peacefully in that position for almost half an hour.

When the sun finally disappeared and the fog grew thicker, Draco looked down at her and teased, “Now aren’t you glad that I brought you out here?”

She looked up at him and grinned. “Yes,” she declared, while tightening her hold on his waist.

“I was hoping that was enough to calm that Weasley temper of yours…” he continued, causing them both to laugh. Ginny buried her face into his side in embarrassment; she could feel the low rumbles in his ribs as he laughed. They gradually stopped and stood there silently. Then Draco released his hold on her and said, “Let’s go; I’m starving.” Ginny obligingly picked up her things, as they both turned and walked back to the castle.

She apologized to Blaise after dinner, but he just hugged her and twirled her around in a circle. That night, their conversation was as animated as ever. Blaise did an uncanny impression of Lucius Malfoy that had both Draco and Ginny rolling in their seats with laughter.

Draco also shared what his summer was like; he had practiced with the Dark Arts just as Blaise had. Both boys teased Ginny about her summer, saying that she would not have such a “Weasley” temper if she lived with their parents.

Exhausted from laughter, Ginny found that she could not sleep when she reached her dormitory. So, she decided to escape to the library. When she went downstairs to the Gryffindor common room, she found Harry, Ron, and Hermione discussing something in low voices before the fire. She walked past them making as much noise as she could. Ron was still upset with her, so both he and Harry ignored her. Hermione, however, was itching to talk with Ginny, so she ran towards Ginny as she was leaving the room.

“Hey, Ginny? Where are you off to?” Hermione asked, trying to sound casual.

Ginny glared at her and replied, “The library,” before she slammed the door closed.

Ginny entered the library and sighed with relief when she found it practically empty. She found a secluded corner, and plopped down in a chair beginning an essay for Transfiguration. Ginny just couldn’t believe the amount of work she had this year; after all, she did have to take her OWLs.

She was so engrossed in her writing that she was caught by surprise when something large and bulky smashed against her head. Ginny sprawled out of her chair and onto the floor, stabbing herself in the arm with her quill at the same time. She tried to prop herself up on her elbows, but her head reeled back with dizziness. Through all of the swirling images around her, she saw a pale-faced blonde girl with a sneer hovering over her. She whispered, “He’s mine, you bitch,” before everything became black.

show me how it ends all right
show me how defenseless you really are
satisfied and empty inside
but that’s all right
let’s give this another try
- Breaking Benjamin

Betrayal

Ginny opened her eyes wearily. Wincing at the bright light that assailed her eyes, she muttered, “What the hell…”

“Ginny? Ginny!” someone called from a distance. Ginny’s eyes fluttered as she forced herself to wake up. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the swirling images around her. She tried to focus on two cark green point of light on a pale background. She finally realized that she was starting at a person; “Harry?” she whispered.

“Shhh, Ginny, it’s all right. I’ll help you to the infirmary.” But before she could move a muscle, Ginny lost consciousness.

She woke up again in the hospital, staring at the sterile white sheets covering her. In fact, there was so much white in the room that she began to wonder if she was in heaven. Ginny shifted her body to see if she was still alive, and realized with a shock that she was dressed in unfamiliar pajamas. Her movements caused the back of her head to sting, and she cried out in pain. At that instant, she heard someone at her side whispering, “Ginny?” Ginny stared up into blue eyes and realized that she was looking at Blaise.

“Blaise,” she gasped with surprise. “What happened to me? Why-“

“What’s this then?” cried Madame Pomfrey angrily. “Mr. Zabini! I believe I asked you to alert me when she woke up. Now, shoo,” she commanded. “I have work to do here.”

Blaise looked at Ginny apologetically and left. As Pomfrey began inspecting her, Ginny ventured, “Madame Pomfrey? What happened-“

“Not. A. Word,” the healer replied as she continued her ministrations. Ginny sighed and relaxed back into her bed. Although that old witch was quite irritating, it was nice to have someone take care of her. After a few minutes, the healer said, “Well, the fracture on your head is mending quite nicely, but I think you ought to spend the night. Now…” she turned to the bedside table and picked up a glass, “drink your potion and rest.”

Ginny grimaced as she drank the disgusting concoction. Pomfrey took the empty glass and drew the curtains around Ginny’s bed while muttering, “Foolish children… expecting everything to taste like pumpkin juice…” As she walked away, Ginny once again drifted off into a deep slumber.

The third time that Ginny awoke, she sat up with a start. The sun was shining so brightly through her closed eyelids that she had to blink owlishly a few times before she could see. Draco immediately rose from his seat and sat on her bed, holding her tightly in his arms. “Draco,” she whispered as she sank into his embrace with a satisfied sigh.

He pulled away and smiled at her tentatively. Ginny turned her head and noticed that Blaise was sitting in a seat on the other side of her bed with a smile. He sat on the other side of her bed and brushed her hair away from her face with a whispered, “How do you feel, Ginevra?”

“Like shit,” she mumbled as she relaxed back onto her bed. Draco immediately adjusted her pillows so that she could sit comfortably. He smirked at her, but wiped it off his face when he asked seriously, “Gin? What happened?”

She looked at both of them helplessly. “I don’t know,” she said helplessly. “All I remember is I was writing my Transfiguration essay. Then I got hit in the head, and I fell to the floor. This girl with blond hair was standing over me before I blacked out. I didn’t even get to see what house she was in.”

“It was a girl?” Draco asked incredulously as his voice rose. Blaise elbowed him to keep quiet; there was no sense in letting Pomfrey barge into their conversation. He then patted Ginny’s hand sympathetically. Draco lowered his voice and said with a quiet fury, “I’m going to kill that bitch if I ever find out who she is.”

Ginny shifted uncomfortably, and Blaise asked concernedly, “What is it?”

“I remember something she said,” she began. “Or maybe I was hallucinating. It sounded like ‘He’s mine, you bitch’.”

Draco stood angrily and shouted, “WHAT?” Of course, Madame Pomfrey heard him. She opened the curtains and looked at Draco with a frown.

“Again! I said NO visitors!” she shouted as she pushed both boys out of the infirmary. Ginny sighed and smiled ruefully. Draco and Ron were so similar when they were angry. Both of them never considered the consequences of their actions. Ron usually created a scene with his shouting and arm-waving, while Draco instigated a scene with his cold, brutal eyes and viciousness. But this outburst from Draco was the first that Ginny had ever seen. She wondered why he felt so strongly about those words from her attacker.

By dinnertime, Pomfrey deemed Ginny fit to leave. Ginny dressed herself quietly and slowly made her way to the Great Hall. Once again, everyone quieted the minute she stepped foot within. However, the quiet was broken this time by a tumultuous shout from the entire Gryffindor table. Everyone that knew Ginny, even if they were a remote acquaintance, mobbed her. In all the noise and confusion, she was led to a seat right next to Harry, and opposite from Ron and Hermione. Hermione was loud and anxious with concern while Ron ignored her. Harry merely sat there watching her from the corners of his eyes.

Ginny blushed with embarrassment at all of the attention she had received. Why had everyone in Gryffindor been concerned with her? Yesterday, they had simply ignored her. Eventually, everyone was able to settle down and eat, but Ginny had not touched her food because she was still peppered with questions and comments.

“What happened, Ginny?”

“-we heard it was a fight-“

“Harry found you!”

“-sent to the infirmary-“

Ginny was getting frustrated with all of these inquiries. She turned her tired eyes to the Slytherin table, where Blaise was giving her a pointed look. She nodded, indicating that she would wait for them at the doorway after dinner.

“Someone saw a Slytherin leaving the library!”

“-Pomfrey, that cow, refused to let us see you-”

“-we couldn’t find you-“

Ginny still gazed at the Slytherin table absentmindedly. Draco was preoccupied with pushing off Pansy, while Blaise had turned to one of the other boys and was whispering conspiratorially. “So, Ginny,” Ron cut into her thoughts loudly, “Did someone try to warn you away from one of those wankers?”

Ginny gaped at him in shock while Ron stared back hatefully. “Oh, shut it,” he said bitingly. “Everyone knows you’re just a slag who’s-“

He never got to finish his sentence. While he was speaking, Ginny had risen out of her seat, reached over to Ron’s head, and pushed his face into his mashed potatoes. She had pushed with so much force that his nose had broken when it contacted his plate. The entire Hall was silenced by that horrifying crack.

But Ginny paid no heed to her surroundings. Her eyes were blazing with fury, making her look like a vengeful goddess surrounded by a halo of fire. “How dare you!” she hissed before she fled the Great Hall.

Ginny continued running up until she reached the seventh floor. She paced before the Room of Requirement three times, and entered to find a cheery fire, a comfortable sofa, and a table with a large box of tissues and loads of chocolate piled on it. After muttering a locking charm on the door, she sank into the sofa with a sob.

Multiple tissues and ten Chocolate Frogs later, Ginny sighed with defeat. Why had Ron said that? He was her brother, for Merlin’s sake! Ron was supposed to be overprotective, interfering, and annoying, but he wasn’t supposed to be a hateful git on top of it! A tear trickled down her face as she remembered the disgust in his face. He had looked at her as though she was completely beneath him – the same way that Draco used to look at her before they became friends. What had happened to her brother?

When Ginny realized how late it was, she rose quickly and made her way down to the kitchens. The chocolate had helped soothe her but they did not suffice as an actual meal. She walked warily for she was out after curfew and Filch was about the castle. As Ginny moved along the shadows on the third floor, she suddenly heard a loud meow. Ahead of her, she saw two feline eyes glowing in the dark as they stared at her intently. Before Ginny fully understood that she was caught by Mrs. Norris, a hand clamped over her mouth and another one slid across her waist, pulling her into a dark corridor.

Naturally, Ginny feared that she was being abducted and began to struggle. “Don’t make a sound,” whispered a familiar voice in her ear. She stopped her movements, and the hand that covered her mouth slowly moved away.

“Harry?” she whispered. Instead of answering, Harry threw his Invisibility Cloak over both of their heads and pressed his hand to her lips to quiet her.

“What is it, my sweet?” Filch crooned sinisterly. “Did you hear someone? There was no meeting planned for tonight…” he continued as he moved away from them. When they could no longer hear him, Ginny and Harry sighed with relief.

When Harry removed his hand from her mouth, Ginny hissed, “Harry, what are you doing here?”

“I was walking about to… ah, clear my head,” he whispered back uncertainly.

“Harry,” Ginny asked suspiciously, “You weren’t trying to find me, were you?”

“Oh no, Ginny,” Harry said with a nervous grin. “I, erm, was simply reliving my memories in this castle.”

“Oh?” she replied archly.

Harry nodded eagerly, “Yes, I was. I’ll show you…” He urged her to move with him under the cloak. As they crept along the hallway, he pointed to a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch. “You see that statue over there?” he asked. Ginny nodded as he continued, “Well, that’s the entrance to a secret passageway that leads into Hogsmeade.” When Ginny turned to him in shock, he explained, “Honestly! What you have to do is tap it with your wand and say, ‘Dissendium’. It’ll open up into this passage that leads straight to the cellar of Honeydukes.”

“Really?” Ginny asked with surprise. “That’s simply corking!” she said in her best imitation of Fred and George. After a moment’s pause, they both burst into laughter. When they both finally sobered, they continued to creep along the hall in silence. After a few minutes, Ginny asked quietly, “Err, Harry? How’s Ron doing?”

Harry turned to her with dull eyes and a sorrowful expression. “Well, Ginny, he’s really upset,” he replied quietly. “He went to Madame Pomfrey to get his nose fixed and then went straight to bed. He couldn’t sleep at all – constantly tossing and turning.” Harry grabbed her hands and whispered urgently, “Ginny, you have to talk to him. I can’t go on seeing my best friend and his sister fight over two bloody Slytherins! Don’t you see that those gits aren’t worth it?”

Ginny pulled her hands from his quickly and coldly said, “He had no right to call me a slag. Of all people, my brother should know who I am! And I do not sleep around!” She was nearly shouting at this point. With a fierce expression, she calmly stated, “I’m not apologizing to him for anything.” She ducked out of the invisibility cloak, and continued on her way.

Just as Ginny was about to reach the portrait with the pear, she heard a voice behind her sneer, “Well, well. Look what we have here!” She whirled around to find Blaise and Draco watching her with amusement. Ginny smacked Draco playfully on the arm before throwing herself at him. But Draco stood as still as a statue and did not return her embrace. After realizing this, Ginny looked up at him and asked uncertainly, “Draco? What’s wrong?”

Draco simply shrugged and pushed her away silently. Confused by his reticence, Ginny turned to Blaise. Blaise just shook his head as though it were nothing and embraced her. Ginny smiled as she squeezed him tightly. When she pulled away, she whispered to both of them, “Let me get some food. Then, we have to talk.”

After Ginny had acquired a tray from an enthusiastic Dobby, all three of them ducked into an empty classroom. Draco muttered locking and silencing spells, while Blaise sat next to Ginny and watched her begin to eat. Draco stood silently by the door and seemed bored. Ginny invited him to take a seat, but he shrugged and retained his cool expression. Blaise caught her attention and urged, “Tell us, Gin!” Ginny proceeded to tell them everything that had occurred in the Great Hall and her escape to the Room of Requirement.

After she had finished that story, she said, “It’s getting dangerous for us being seen together.”

“What? Why do you say that?” Blaise asked in shocked tones.

“Oh Blaise, can’t you see that whoever attacked me was upset because I was with one of you? Bloody hell! She actually said, ‘he’s mine, you bitch!’ What more proof do you need?” Ginny was exasperated at this point.

After a pause, Draco said nonchalantly, “She was only talking about me.”

“Why? Is it that inconceivable that she may have been talking about me?” Blaise answered him playfully. Ginny laughed and resumed her meal.

“Shove it, Zabini,” Draco replied with a sneer. “Obviously, it was Pansy who attacked Gi-Weasley. I haven’t seen her following you, have I?”

Blaise and Ginny looked at him in disbelief. Draco shrugged and continued, “She was boasting about it after she had had a few drinks.”

“That little bitch!” Blaise exclaimed, clenching his fists. “What I wouldn’t like to do to her!”

Ginny watched Draco with rising concern. Why was he acting this way? This morning, he had been all smiles and hugs. Now, he was the Draco Malfoy from the train. Shaking her head with a sigh, Ginny said, “But we don’t have evidence against that fucking bint.” With another sigh she continued, “Today has been so fucking frustrating!”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Blaise mumbled. Ginny returned to her food disconsolately and found that she no longer had an appetite. Suddenly, her fork clattered to her plate and she sat up excitedly. “No it hasn’t! I’ve gotten some information about Harry!”

Both boys looked at her; Blaise was concerned and interested while Draco was bored and slightly bemused. After a swig of pumpkin juice, Ginny said excitedly, “I forgot to tell you! I met Harry on the third floor, and he helped hide me from Filch. He told me about this secret exit from the castle that leads straight to Hogsmeade. Actually, it leads straight to the cellar of Honeydukes.” After another blank look from both boys, she continued, “You gits! That’s something only his friends would know!”

Blaise grinned at her appreciatively. “Ah yes, Ginevra to the rescue!” With a more serious note, he asked, “Do you think it’s wise to tell You-Know-Who and his minions that?”

Ginny frowned thoughtfully and replied, “Well, if you just mentioned that there are secret passages that lead straight to Hogsmeade but not that particular one… I mean, even Filch has to know that there are secret passages in this damn castle.”

Draco nodded and added, “Keep it as vague as you can. If they complain about it, then just say that you’re still working on getting her to trust you.”

“Right, then,” Blaise said with an air of decision. “I’ll send the owl in the morning.”

Ginny finished her last bite and said playfully, “Yes, I need to get some beauty sleep for Hogsmeade tomorrow, so if you’ll excuse me...” Both boys smirked at her and they left the classroom. Draco walked ahead of them while Blaise stayed by Ginny and draped an arm around her shoulder. Before they reached the Gryffindor Tower, Blaise dropped a kiss on her forehead and hugged her tightly. Draco just watched silently with cold eyes.

As Ginny climbed the steps to her dormitory, she felt many conflicting emotions. Blaise had kissed her, even if it was on her forehead, but Ron had been an awful prat. She had finally found a piece of “personal” information on Harry, but Draco was suddenly acting like his old self. Ginny snuggled under her covers, uncertain if she should be starry-eyed and flushed with excitement or sullen and disconsolate. When she finally closed her eyes, she drifted to sleep with a smirk on her face.

Note: It was actually painful to write Draco as a cold, sneering bastard. But, for the sake of the story, I had to do it. Oh, and the title is indicative of future plot. I guess you could say that this is a pivotal point in the story, but the characters are completely unaware of it.

if you don't mind
I think I'll wear my heart on my sleeve
'cause I'm tired of not being able to breathe
all of us are searching for an open arm
well, it's a shame how I curl up in the dark
- Blindside

Confusion

The nest morning dawned with solemn splendor. Ginny woke up refreshed and alert, even though she had slept for a mere three hours. Mindful of the sleeping girls around her, she crept to the window seat in her bedroom to watch the sky. The milky fog that surrounded the castle shrouded the sun’s light, leaving a residue of pinks and soft yellows. When the heat from the wintry sun evaporated the mist, she gasped at the clear blue sky. The scenery looked cold and bright, it’s colors contrasting sharply with each other.

Eventually, the other girls did rise from their slumber. Ginny showered and dressed with cheerful abandon, forgetting all that had transpired the previous night. As she clambered excitedly down the steps from the girls’ dormitory, she even beamed at Harry and Ron before flying through the portrait hole. At breakfast, she watched the Slytherin table with anticipation. Draco was still trying to push Pansy away from him, but he never looked up at Ginny. Blaise, on the other hand, was gazing at her so intensely that Ginny dropped her gaze with a heated flush. She continued her meal and tried not to think of Blaise’s soft kiss on her forehead. His lips where so soft and his breath on her skin, even if it had only touched her temple, sent warmth throughout her body. But this warmth was pleasant, not passionate. Blaise’s kiss felt like a mere token of appreciation rather than a promise of something more.

Ginny suddenly lost her appetite when a thought struck her. Did Blaise want something more? He had never said anything about it, but he had been such a gentleman to her. After all, he had noticed her quietness and lonely ways when she was a first year. If her parents and brothers, who loved her more than she could comprehend, never noticed, then…? Did Blaise love her? Ginny’s eyes widened with disbelief as she played with her food on her plate. That was ridiculous! He had only known here for a month or so – there was no way in hell that he could feel that strongly about her. Ginny timidly raised her eyes to the Slytherin table and found Blaise’s eyes still trained on her.

Ginny shivered with nervousness and dropped her eyes again. That gaze of his was very… intense, to put it mildly. So, what would she do if Blaise did love her? Ginny smiled ruefully as she told herself that the logical answer to that was: did she love him? No, she most certainly did not feel that intensely about him. Well, did she like him enough to fall in love with him later? Ginny was not so sure about her answer to that question. Blaise was her best friend – actually, from the way Draco was acting lately, he was her only friend. Was she willing to risk her friendship with him and go further than that?

Ginny’s head was whirling with questions as she waited at the doorway for Blaise. Draco and Pansy passed by her arm-in-arm. When Pansy saw Ginny, she nudged Draco and whispered something into his ear. Draco turned and looked at Ginny with a cold, bored expression and continued on his way. Ginny sighed inwardly, still confused if she was to blame for Draco’s current behavior. Ginny was so engrossed in her musings that she yelped with surprise when Blaise slid his arm around her waist. She looked up at him and smiled shyly, but was terrified by the possessiveness and desire that she saw in his eyes.

Helplessly, Ginny scrambled for something to say. Finally, she settled for, “Well, let’s go then!” in a bravely cheerful tone.

They strolled down to the carriages together and found that Draco and Pansy had saved them some room in their carriage. Ginny sat between Draco and Blaise while Pansy sat on the other side of Draco. Their conversation was stilted and uncomfortably formal. Blaise had Ginny’s hand in his lap and was stroking it softly and absentmindedly. Although his light touch tickled her, Ginny was more disturbed by the fact that Draco’s thigh and arm were in direct contact with hers. Blaise’s presence was comforting but Draco was so warm that he felt like fire. Every point of her skin that touched Draco sent tendrils of adrenaline throughout the rest of her body. When Ginny shivered from this effect, Blaise looked at her with a sweet smile. He was probably mistaking her shivers as a reaction to his gentle caresses on her hand.

When the carriage finally arrived at Hogsmeade, Ginny stumbled out as fast as she could. She was very disturbed by the insinuations (consciously and unconsciously made) from both boys. It did not help matters when Blaise immediately tucked her arm under his own and kept it there firmly.

“So, Ginevra,” Blaise began with a sweet smile, “Where shall we begin?”

“I’m out of quills and parchment, as well as a few other supplies,” Ginny said vaguely. If she had to enter every store in Hogsmeade to get her arm away from Blaise’s clutches, then she would do so.

Ginny did look through every store in Hogsmeade. The aisles and displays usually prevented them from walking together side-by-side in the stores, so she was able to roam them with Blaise hot on her heels. She realized that she didn’t mind his company as much while they were engaged in friendly banter without physical contact. But Blaise did not understand this fact, and still insisted on escorting her to every store with her arm through his.

After they exhausted all of the stores in Hogsmeade, Blaise escorted her to the Three Broomsticks. Ginny searched for seats while Blaise place an order for two butterbeers with Madame Rosmerta. She found an empty booth and slid onto one of the plush seats. She immediately scooted over so that she was practically hanging off of the seat into the aisle next to the booth. By doing so, she hoped to force Blaise into sitting opposite her rather than next to her. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when Blaise gave her a strange look and proceeded to sit opposite her.

“Ginevra?” Blaise asked with a raised eyebrow. “Are you all right?”

“Perfectly fine, thanks!” Ginny replied cheerfully as she subtly moved to the middle of the cushioned seat.

Blaise still looked at her skeptically, but shrugged and starting discussing plans for Halloween and Christmas holidays. Ginny just nodded at various points, acting as though she were interested in what he was saying. In reality, she was daydreaming about two days ago, when she saw the lake in all its beauty. But her memories were not focused on the lake – instead, she was imagining Draco’s arms her. She could still feel his warm body, the hard muscles of his chest against her cheek, the slow and peaceful beating of his heart…

When Ginny felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, she immediately flushed with embarrassment. Blaise was droning on about his childhood and thought that the color on her cheeks were from amusement. Ginny made a few well-placed nods and comments, and then allowed her mind to wander again. Why did she only daydream about Draco, but never about Blaise? The dark-haired blue-eyed boy seated in front of her was her friend. She couldn’t deny that he was handsome; Blaise was very good-looking in a dark, mysterious sort of way. He was obviously interested in her feelings and thoughts, instead of just sex. So why didn’t she feel anything for him?

Instead, she was constantly thinking about enigmatic gray eyes that looked like molten silver for one minute and cool, metallic chips the next. She could only remember his distinctive scent of leather. Every time she smelled it, she thought of him; but, if Ginny ever smelled the fresh scent of air after rainfall, she never thought of Blaise. Ginny picked up her mug of butterbeer for a sip and wondered idly if she was falling in love with Draco.

When she realized that she was seriously considering that thought, Ginny sputtered and slammed the mug back on the table with a look of horror. Blaise stared at her and asked, “Ginevra? Are you all right?” Ginny was staring off into space, clearly not paying attention to him. Her hand gripped the mug handle so tightly that her knuckles were white. All of the blood seemed to drain from her face.

“Oh shit,” Ginny whispered as she realized the truth of what she was thinking. She was falling for Draco. There was no conceivable explanation for why she was falling for him; she just was.

“Ginevra?” Blaise asked concernedly. As though on cue, Draco and Pansy entered the Three Broomsticks. Draco’s arm was wrapped around Pansy’s waist. His hair was slightly mussed, his shirt was rumpled, and Ginny could have sworn that she saw a lipstick smear on his neck. He glanced around the pub looking for a table, when his eyes fell on Ginny. Ginny still had a horrified look on her face as she stared right back at him. Seeing that he had her full attention, Draco pulled Pansy to him and kissed her soundly. Instead of closing his eyes to enjoy the kiss, Draco still stared at Ginny. Ginny swallowed a lump in her throat, and looked at the table angrily.

At this point, Blaise was so worried that he had risen out of his seat and sat next to her. He wrapped an arm around Ginny’s shoulders and whispered, “Tell me what’s wrong, Ginevra.” She was startled when she felt his touch, and looked up at him in surprise. Her eyes met his and she could see concern, laughter, and something that looked like desire in his. Draco had given her that same look when she met them in front of the painting of fruit the other night…

Before she could think of the consequences, she grabbed his chin with her hand and kissed him fiercely. She put all of her desire, frustration, longing and memories of Draco into that kiss. She soon broke contact to catch her breath, and found Blaise watching her with astonished and admiring eyes.

“Ginevra?” he whispered, “What was that about?”

Ginny looked at her hands, which were wrapped around her butterbeer, and said awkwardly, “Well, what did it look like, Blaise?”

He looked at her skeptically, as though he didn’t believe his eyes. He slid his hand into Ginny’s hair, pulled her face towards his, and whispered seductively, “It looked like the most beautiful woman in the world was kissing me.” Ginny gave a tentative grin at his compliment, but he silenced her with a kiss of his own.

This kiss was gentler than their first, so Ginny found herself drawing closer to Blaise and wrapping her arm around his waist. Blaise responded with a sigh and licked her lips. Ginny opened her mouth in surprise and he took advantage of her movement to let his tongue slide into her mouth. After caressing her tongue with his, he ran it lightly over her teeth; she moaned softly and pressed her hands tightly against his back. They slowly ended the kiss a few minutes later, breathless as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Ginny’s brown eyes were a little shocked, but they softened when she saw the happiness and love that was evident in Blaise’s.

They slowly withdrew their hands from each other and sat there silently. Ginny flushed with embarrassment but Blaise smiled broadly and said, “I wasn’t lying when I said you were beautiful. But after a good snogging session,” he winked, “you look even better.”

Ginny turned redder and bowed her head in complete embarrassment. Blaise lifted her face to his and whispered, “Well, Ginevra? There’s no ‘just mates’ now, is there?” She shook her head, still mesmerized by the look in his eyes. If only Draco looked at her like that…

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” he whispered.

Ginny paused and pretended to contemplate his question. Inwardly, she groaned and sighed in defeat. No matter how much she wished it, Draco would never look at her that way. He was a Malfoy and she had obviously upset him in some way. Hell, he even had to give a fake excuse to his parents to be her friend. So, if he ever did love her, she could never expect him to state it out loud. But here was Blaise, the epitome of the perfect boyfriend. He was handsome, charming, compassionate, and he loved her. Instead of giving her dirty looks for no reason at all, Blaise would cherish her and protect her in any way he could. True, she was not in love with Blaise, but he was infinitely more comforting than the cold and confusing Draco Malfoy. It also felt nice to be wanted after years of almost neglect.

Her decision made, Ginny turned to Blaise and simply whispered, “Yes.”

The smile that lit Blaise’s face was so genuine and sweet that Ginny didn’t have the heart to resent her decision. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. This time, they broke apart abruptly when someone nearby cleared their throat impatiently. Both Ginny and Blaise looked up to find Draco watching them with a sneer. “So sorry to interrupt,” he said sarcastically, “but the carriages are leaving.” With that, he twirled around and stalked out of the Three Broomsticks.

Ginny watched sadly as he left. She wanted to hit herself for being such a fool and falling for a Malfoy, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t even know him that well, but she knew that was practically in love with the git.

The ride back was another uncomfortable affair. Blaise sat in between Ginny and Draco and wrapped his arm tightly around her. Pansy was still chattering away, but she sounded unusually excited. Blaise was happily informing Ginny of the Quidditch match that would take place next week. Draco and Ginny were strangely silent and carefully avoided looking at each other.

The wind from the passing carriage swept her hair behind her as she looked out upon the scenery flying by. Sweet Merlin, what had she done? Everyone in school already thought she was a tease for not picking one of boys to go out with. Now that she had picked Blaise, she felt even worse. What had possessed her to say “Yes”? And Blaise was obviously besotted with her – how would she endure those evenings with him in empty classrooms? With a weary sigh, Ginny stepped onto the ground when the carriage pulled to a halt before the school.

As they entered the Great Hall for dinner, Blaise made a point of kissing Ginny lightly on the lips before he went to the Slytherin table. Ginny stood there and watched him in a daze, unaware that the entire hall had seen them kiss. She stumbled as Draco and Pansy roughly brushed past her towards the Slytherin table. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she made her way to the Gryffindor table and sat down quietly. Harry and Hermione were openly staring at her, while a red-faced Ron continued to ignore her. Ginny wanted to continue her dazed musings, but she forced herself to eat a few bites of food.

When Ginny was finished with her dinner, she waited at the doorway for Blaise. Blaise immediately tucked her arm under his and escorted her out of the hall. Ginny noticed that he did not wait for Draco, but refused to mention it.

Noticing her silence, Blaise looked down at Ginny and said, “Come on, Ginevra. Let’s go to the Astronomy Tower.” Ginny looked at him apprehensively when he said those words, but he ignored her and continued to walk towards the tower. He held her hand while they climbed the steps together, as though he were dragging her to her doom. Ginny followed him quietly and refused to complain about his fast pace.

Ginny shivered when they reached the top of the tower. The night was cold and clear, and the stars shone brightly in the sky. She could see the lake in the distance, it’s silvery ripples gleaming in the moonlight. Looking at the lake reminded her of that day when she and Draco had stood on the shore. The rumble of his voice from his diaphragm, the feel of his hand rubbing against her arm, the smell of new leather…

“Blaise,” she whispered, forcing her thoughts away from Draco. “Bit chilly, isn’t it?”

Blaise gestured, indicating that he wanted her to draw nearer, and Ginny stepped forward readily. With a flourish, he embraced her tightly and wrapped his cloak around both of them. Ginny immediately warmed to his embrace, enjoying the sensations that coursed through her as he rubbed her back in gently circles. Blaise mistook her shivers for cold, so he pulled her even closer to him.

They stood like that for a few minutes, both gazing at the lake. Ginny rubbed Blaise’s back comfortingly while he ran his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. He finally broke the silence with a whispered, “I’ve loved you ever since that train ride.”

Ginny looked up at him in surprise. He was still looking at the lake, but his eyes were glazed and he was grinning as he remembered that day. “You were so beautiful with your fiery hair and quick temper. I remember wondering how you could be loyal to your family and friends when they never acknowledged your existence.”

She thought about that for a minute, and replied, “Well, they’re still family. Ron may be a sniveling little git, and the rest of them may ignore me, but I still love them. Anyway,” she continued, “it’s not like they didn’t ‘acknowledge my existence’; they just never thought that I had deeper feelings.”

Blaise looked down at her with a confused expression. She sighed and explained, “I do play the part of a sweet, innocent girl well, don’t I?” He grinned mischievously and nodded. “Everyone in my family wears their hearts on their sleeves. I used to do that too, but… after Tom…” she trailed off into silence.

He gripped her shoulder and pushed her away slightly so that he could look her in the eyes. “Ginevra,” he began urgently, “I’m not like him. I have the dark hair and blue eyes but I’m not him. You can tell me everything and trust me completely. I’ll never hurt you like he did.”

Ginny nodded at him mutely and embraced him tightly. He sighed softy and continued to stroke her hair. As she stood there in his embrace, Ginny’s heart raced. She had been so tempted to tell him about Draco. How could she betray him like that when she had agreed to be his girlfriend?

Notes:

1) YES, this is a D/G fic. But we're not even halfway through this thing yet, so just be a little patient. Scratch that, be VERY patient - it's going to take a while.

2) NO, this is not smut. So what if I like to describe kissing?! I find it a beautiful way of expressing love. Also, if you've got a problem with it, then I have a piece of advice for you: don't knock something until you've tried it.

3) I'm sorry about the haphazard updates. I originally posted this only on ff.net, so i've been trying to catch you guys up to where I stopped there. Right now, you've read all that i've written so far. I'm working on Chapter 8 right now, so it should be out in a few days. Oh yeah, I'm also getting this published on thedarkarts.org. HINT HINT - this story isn't going to be candy-coated fun. There's lots of angst and heartbreak coming up. But it's still D/G, so it's worth it, right?

you told me everything I wanted to hear
and you sold me
now I don't know how I should feel
I should know me
and baby, you would think I knew better
- Michelle Branch

Amends

They continued to hold each other for an hour or so. Ginny was so comfortable in his warm embrace that she slowly drifted to sleep. But before she was lost to her exhaustion, Blaise nudged her awake and whispered, “It’s getting late. Let’s get you to bed.”

With a sleepy nod from Ginny, Blaise held her hand as he slowly led her down the steps from the Astronomy Tower. They moved silently through the halls, wary of Filch and Mrs. Norris. Fortunately, they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady unharmed. Ginny managed to mumble a soft “Good night” and turned to enter the Gryffindor Tower. Before she had moved two steps away from Blaise, he caught her arm and stopped her. He stooped a little and whispered in her ear, “You forgot your ‘good night’ kiss.” His lips lightly touched her ear as he spoke, and his warm breath sent shivers down her spine. The shivers she experienced from Draco boiled her blood and inflamed her senses. Blaise’s gentle words filled her with happy warmth in the pit of her stomach and managed to jolt her awake, but that was all.

Ginny turned her face towards Blaise with a smirk. Just as she was about to retort wittily, he tipped her chin up with his hand and kissed her. His lips were warm and caressing, and Ginny was awash with a feeling of safety and happiness. She sighed contentedly and snaked her arms around his neck. She reached up to run her fingers through his blonde silky hair… and stopped. With a terrified look on her face, Ginny pushed Blaise away. She had been imagining Draco in her arms when she was kissing Blaise.

Blaise stood there and looked at her quizzically. Ginny opened her mouth to try and explain herself, but all she managed to say was, “Not comfortable…” Blaise just nodded calmly and pulled her into his arms.

“Don’t worry, Ginevra. I won’t push you into this,” he whispered as he stroked her hair. Ginny moved away, wanting to explain that it wasn’t his fault. But Blaise simply released her with a kiss on her forehead and a wistful, “Good night, sweet Ginevra,” as he strolled away.

Ginny was speechless as she watched his retreating back. Blaise had been so sweet to her; he had immediately assumed that he was to blame for her discomfort. He had never accused her of anything, even though it was her fault that she was so uncomfortable in the first place. Ginny turned back to the Gryffindor tower and walked slowly to her dormitory, blinded by her thoughts.

How could she be so cruel to him? How could she pretend to love him while pretending he was Draco? Ginny sneered when she remembered the lipstick on Draco’s neck and his disheveled appearance at the Three Broomsticks. Blaise was such a wonderful guy and he was obviously very interested in her as a person. In his eyes, Ginny was sure that she was not some plaything that could be used and thrown away, unlike Pansy Parkinson. But why was she unable to reciprocate those feelings?

Four days passed by, filled with idyllic pleasure. Blaise’s kisses had lost none of their potency, and Ginny’s knees went weak every time she felt the intensity of his gazes. They spent every spare moment of their time together. He walked her to her classes and her meals. They had become a common sight in the hallways, their arms linked and their laughter echoing for yards around them. Ginny had never felt as secure with anyone as she did with Blaise, even when Harry saved her from the Chamber of Secrets. When they were together, she felt as though she was allowed to be herself. He accepted her for who she was and never forced her to fit a mold or design.

Ginny continued to contemplate this as she sat in the Gryffindor common room. Blaise was currently in a “junior Death Eater” meeting, as he referred to it. Thus, Ginny found herself ensconced in an extremely comfortable chair before the fireplace. Her Potions book lay open on her lap, long forgotten. Her brooding face reflected the shifting flames from the fireplace, while her hair had a golden sheen from the light.

Ron found his sister in this state when he crawled through the portrait hole and sauntered to her side. Ginny was so deep in thought that she did not notice his approach. Her book nearly fell off her lap and onto the floor when he suddenly said, “Hey, Ginny.”

Snapped out of her thoughts, Ginny turned her head quickly and eyed him with suspicion. “Hello yourself,” she answered curtly.

Ron shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with talking to her. Finally, he seemed to muster up enough courage to ask, “Mind if I sit here?”

Ginny scowled and answered, “Yes, I do mind. Unless you have anything worthwhile to say, I insist that you leave me alone.”

Her formal speech seemed to fluster Ron even more. “Listen, Ginny,” he began with an exasperated sigh, “Can’t we just talk?”

This time, her Potions book fell to the floor with a loud thump. Ginny rose out of her seat furiously, and stabbed him in the chest with her forefinger. “Well, when one of us,” she emphasized with another poke, “learns civilized conversation, we will speak. Until then, NO.” She gave him a final poke before she folded both arms across her chest and glared at him.

Ron continued to shift his weight on his feet a few more times, staring down at the floor in embarrassment. His face was now infused with red, and the color even reached the tips of his ears. Then he looked Ginny in the eyes and mumbled, “I… I just want… to say… sorry.”

Ginny looked at him incredulously. “What did you say?” she asked calmly, still convinced that she had been imagining things.

He reddened even more and stated clearly, “I said ‘I’m sorry’.”

“For what?” Ginny asked imperiously.

“For…” this obviously required some quick thinking on Ron’s part. “For… being such a prat.” He looked at Ginny hopefully, but she still stared back at him stonily, tapping her foot with impatience. “Also, for…” he continued nervously, “calling you a ‘slag’ and poking fun at those wank-” Ginny glared at him murderously, so he quickly amended, “Ah… friends of yours.”

Ginny’s eyes lost their fire, but she looked at him with a mixture of hurt and sadness. “Not to mention,” she whispered, “not trusting me to make my own choices.”

“But Ginny,” he cut in, “they’re Slytherins!”

“And one of them happens to be my boyfriend!” she retorted. “And he loves me! Even Harry couldn’t love me that way! He’d always be worried about saving the world, but Blaise is worried about me.”

Ron started to look uncomfortable again, but Ginny wasn’t about to let him go easily. “You’ve been such an… ass to me, Ron! I’m no slag and you know it! But you had to believe those rumors. Hell, you probably caused a few of them yourself.” Ron had the good sense to look guilty at this accusation. “And you expect me to accept you again after a simple ‘sorry’!” Ginny stopped for a deep breath. With a sigh, she muttered, “I’m sorry, Ron, but I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“But Gin-” Ron interjected, his face pale with shock.

She held up her hand to interrupt him. “It’s going to take time, Ron,” she whispered resignedly. “Maybe we can go back to the way we were, but I need time.”

For the second time that evening, Ron was wise enough to just nod sorrowfully in agreement. Raking his fingers through his hair, he said, “Well, why don’t we start now?” Ginny looked at him questioningly, so he explained, “Why don’t you tell me about Malfoy and Zabini? I’ll tell you about me and Hermione.”

So for two hours, brother and sister sat before the fire while they informed each other about their lives. Ron had been mystified at Draco’s alternating gentleness and coldness, but shrugged it off as “What else would you expect from that git?” Ginny laughed when she heard that Ron and Hermione had kept their relationship a secret for the entire summer because they were unsure if Harry fancied Hermione.

When they had finished, Ron sighed and raked his fingers through his hair while staring at the fire absentmindedly. Ginny laughed when she realized that his hair resembled the spines of a porcupine. Ron grinned back when he saw her amusement and said, “Well, I’m off to bed.”

Ginny nodded and said, “I’ll be down here finishing this reading,” as she indicated the Potions book on the floor. “But, it was nice to talk to you, Ron.”

“Same here, Gin,” Ron responded with a smile as he rose out of his seat. “Well, good night,” and after a pause he added, “Don’t stay up too late.” With that, he turned and climbed the stairs to his dormitory.

Ginny smiled ruefully; it really had been nice to talk to Ron. She had never realized just how lonely she had been with only Blaise and Draco to talk to since the beginning of the school year. Well, Draco no longer cared about her, so she could only talk to Blaise. Of course, Blaise was Blaise, and he loved it when she revealed her thoughts and emotions to him. But Ginny’s guilt seemed to build a wall between them. She was still uncomfortable with their one-sided relationship; after all, Blaise loved her, but she could only feel a deep affection for him. This inequality prevented Ginny from really telling him everything that she felt.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Ginny reached down and picked up the Potions textbook again and resumed her reading. Before long, the words on the pages began to swim and her vision turned blurry. In a last spurt of consciousness, she shut the book and pillowed her head in the cushion of her chair before she fell fast asleep.

Ginny was jolted awake a half an hour later by a hoarse scream. The voice was definitely male; it’s tortured and anguished cries terrified Ginny. She bolted out of her chair, her textbook once again thumping to the floor, and raced towards the stairs. She jumped them two at a time and hurried to the boys’ dormitory, only to be stopped by a disheveled and worried Ron. His blue eyes showed fear and terror, but his voice was calm and pointed. “It’s Harry. Get McGonagall.”

With a quick nod, Ginny ran down the stairs again and flew to the portrait hole. She ran through the hallways so quickly that she felt like she was in a dream. If anyone had been walking about at that time in the morning, they would have only seen a blur of red and black flit by them quickly. Ginny finally reached the portrait in front of McGonagall’s quarters. This portrait contained an old, stately man with silver-gray hair and immaculate robes. He was reclined in a comfortable chair, snoring slightly as he slept.

“Wake up!” Ginny yelled at the man impatiently. He woke up with a start, snorted a bit, and groped the table beside him for his glasses. Once he had retrieved them and put them on, he turned to Ginny with stern eyes and asked, “And what, pray tell, are you doing up and about at this time of the morning? It is not fit for young ladies such as yourself to be gallivanting-”

Ginny sighed with annoyance and interrupted, “I need to see Professor McGonagall. Now.”

He shook his head, disapproving of her tone, before he replied, “The professor is happily asleep, as you should be, young lady. I say, women these days-”

With a stomp of her foot, she shouted, “I need McGonagall, you fool. Something’s wrong with Harry and all you can do is-”

Before she could continue her rant, the man stood up and asked, “Did you say Harry…as in Harry Potter?” Ginny nodded, still fuming and thinking of polite words to tell this old fart to bugger off. “Well, young lady, why did you not say something before?” And with a blink, he hurried out of his portrait.

Within a few minutes, Professor McGonagall opened the portrait door. She was wearing an old flannel nightgown, complete with ruffles and lace; the neck of the gown stopped at mid-throat and looked very uncomfortable. Her hair was in curlers, barely hidden by a mobcap. A plaid dressing gown had been tied across her waist haphazardly, for one arm of it was hanging off of her shoulders. Ginny could barely contain her giggles when the professor yawned widely, looking like a tired and sleepy cat. When she heard giggles, McGonagall adjusted her spectacles and glared at Ginny pointedly. “Well, Miss Weasley? What is the matter now?” she asked with a huff of annoyance.

Ginny wiped the smile off of her face and said urgently, “It’s Harry. He was screaming – I think he had another nightmare.”

Before Ginny had completed her news, McGonagall swept past her and hurried towards Gryffindor tower. Ginny spun around and followed her, puffing and panting with exertion. McGonagall, on the other hand, seemed to move effortlessly, and she fixed her appearance as she ran. With a loud “Bludger,” the fat lady’s portrait swung open and admitted them into the common room.

After Ginny crawled through the hole and straightened up, she found the entire Gryffindor House in the common room. Everyone’s attention was riveted to the sofa that she had been sitting at, directly in front of the fireplace. McGonagall was already moving through the crowd, which had silently parted for her. Ginny followed McGonagall, her curiosity piqued. When she finally reached the center of attention, she was greeted with quite a sight.

Harry was slumped in her chair, with her Potions text lying by his foot. Ron and Hermione were hovering on either side of him, pale with worry. Hermione’s face was streaked with tears, her hair bushier and wilder than ever. Ron’s face was so white that his freckles stood out like dark brown spots. His hair was just as wild and unkempt as Hermione’s. But the most shocking sight was Harry.

His face was covered with blood. The blood had flown from the top of his head, for she could see rivulets that had trickled around his nose and down his chin. His eyebrows and closed eyelids were also caked with dry blood. His scar on his forehead was an angry, bubbling red, unlike the faded brown that it usually was. With a start, Ginny realized that it was his scar that was bleeding. But before she could marvel at the discovery, Harry emitted a low moan of anguish.

That guttural cry for help seemed to mobilize Professor McGonagall. She immediately turned to Ginny and said, “Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger, please accompany Mr. Potter to the infirmary. The rest of you,” she looked pointedly at the crowd around her, “off to bed.”

A general grumble of discontent followed her words, but McGonagall silenced them with a look and threatened, “I shall be visiting the dormitories periodically for the rest of the night to ensure that you are asleep.”

Finally, everyone dispersed. McGonagall levitated Harry and led him out of the common room, with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione following in her wake.

how many times have you wished you were strong?
have they ever seen your heart?
have they ever seen your pain?
life is waiting for you
it’s all messed up, but we're alive
- Our Lady Peace

Warnings

Madame Pomfrey awoke with a start when she heard a loud pounding on the infirmary door. She leapt from her bed, grabbed her dressing robe and rushed to answer the insistent knocking while fastening the robe around her. When she finally opened the door, she almost lost her balance in shock. Three pale teenagers were grouped around a fourth one who was moaning brokenly. Two had the traditional red hair labeling them as Weasleys. The other girl had dark brown hair that was bushier than ever, while the fourth was levitated horizontally. Her brain registered his familiar, unkempt black hair automatically, but she gasped in shock when she saw the blood that dripped from his face and fell to the floor with a periodic splat.

She was startled from her reverie when Professor McGonagall gripped her shoulders and whispered urgently, “Poppy!” Madame Pomfrey finally moved away from the doorway and beckoned McGonagall to enter. She levitated Harry to a nearby bed, as Pomfrey began her inspection of him immediately.

The shock and worry drained the blood from Ginny’s face, making her look paler than ever. She stood closely to Harry as she watched him, gripping the steel beam at the end of his bed so tightly that her knuckles were white. Ron stood next to her, his comforting arm around Hermione. Hermione, on the other hand, sniffled as she began crying again. Ginny understood Hermione’s tears; there was just so much blood on Harry. It was hard to believe that that much blood could ooze from such a minuscule scar. Ginny wondered if he would suffer from severe blood loss when, and if, he recovered.

At this point, Pomfrey and McGonagall had managed to clear the blood from Harry’s face and momentarily staunch the flow from his scar. Without that angry red masking his features, Harry’s face looked drawn and upset. Although he was unconscious, his deathly pale forehead was creased and he was frowning as though he was intensely worried.

Pomfrey chose this moment to shoo the Weasleys and Hermione from the room. “We will alert you when he wakes up. Until then, you three should get some rest.” Ron began to protest, but Pomfrey physically turned him around and pushed him towards the door. Hermione and Ginny followed him silently, both lost in their own thoughts. When the three of them stepped out into the hallway, Pomfrey shut the door firmly in their faces.

Ron sighed exasperatedly while Hermione burst into fresh tears and Ginny stood by numbly. Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione and wiped her tears away gently while murmuring softly. When Hermione finally stopped crying, Ginny turned her attention to Ron and said, “Ron” to call his attention. When he turned his head to face her, Ginny whispered, “What the bloody hell happened?”

Ron sighed dejectedly and turned back to Hermione to check that she was all right. When he was satisfied that she was, he turned back to Ginny and croaked, “We had been sleeping for about an hour. I- I heard muttering from Harry’s bed, so I went over to see if he was all right. He was mumbling in his sleep about something. It was a dream of some sort and he seemed fine, so I w-went back to bed.” Ron paused, taking a shaky breath as he wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders and continued, “He… he started screaming. I’ve never heard anyone scream like that. It was… awful.” The horror in his face was apparent, and he tightened his hold on Hermione. “When you went off for McGonagall…” He stopped, too lost in the memory to continue.

“What happened then, Ron?” Ginny pleaded.

He looked at her absentmindedly and whispered, “Harry started laughing.” Ron’s eyes glazed over as she continued, “It wasn’t a laugh – it was more of a…” he paused, at a loss for words.

Hermione finally piped up with a teary voice, “It was like an evil hag had eaten her fill. It was a…cackle.”

“Yes,” Ron murmured absentmindedly, still lost in thought. “A cackle. He was so loud that he woke up the entire house. He- he pushed past me, like he didn’t care about me. I was so worried; I was asking him over and over again if he was all right. But he just didn’t seem to care.”

Hermione wrapped an arm around Ron’s waist and squeezed him tightly. Ginny was rooted in place, amazed and confused by what she had heard. Harry not caring about Ron? The chance of that happening was just as strong as… well, as Draco Malfoy falling in love with her. It was just impossible to imagine. Ginny shook her head to clear it and asked, “What happened then?” Ron just stood there silently, gazing absentmindedly into space. Ginny sighed impatiently and prompted, “Well, how did you bring him downstairs?”

Hermione swiftly turned her gaze from Ron to Ginny. “We didn’t carry him down. He walked down himself.” Ginny’s mouth hung open; she was too surprised for words. Hermione whispered, “I mean it. He really walked down himself. And the whole time, he kept…cackling. He was acting like he owned the place or something. We followed him down. We were so surprised…we just didn’t know what to do with him.”

“When he got down the stairs, he started walking to that chair you were sitting in before,” Ron interrupted, still gazing off into nothingness. “We thought he was going to sit down, but he walked straight to…” Ron gulped audibly, his face taking on a look of absolute terror. Hermione’s face mirrored his emotion. “He was going to throw himself in the fire.”

Ginny squeaked in a completely undignified manner. Neither Hermione nor Ron seemed to notice this, as they were still lost in their thoughts.

“We pulled him back,” Hermione continued, “and he started…howling again. That’s when the bleeding started. It just kept pouring out, and-“

“We had no fucking clue what to do,” Ron concluded, finally focusing on Ginny again. “That’s when you and McGonagall showed up.”

Ginny had never felt this speechless in her entire life. Her mind was such a void that she had to force herself to breathe regularly. Before she could even begin to formulate thoughts, Professor McGonagall opened the door of the infirmary. The teacher looked at the three of them sternly and said, “You were dismissed. I demand that you return to your dormitories at once.”

Ron and Hermione looked at her sheepishly and began walking towards the Gryffindor Tower. Ginny numbly followed, completely unaware of what she was doing. She blindly walked up the dormitory steps and dropped into bed. Without bothering to change her clothes, she quickly fell into an exhausted sleep.

Ginny had slept for barely three hours when she was gently shaken awake. Ginny blinked owlishly around her and sat up with a yawn. She came face-to-face with Hermione, who whispered, “He’s awake.”

With a flash, Ginny jumped out of bed and hurried down the stairs behind Hermione. They met Ron at the portrait hole, his foot tapping impatiently. When he saw the two girls, he whipped out Harry’s invisibility cloak and covered all three of them before they left. They tried their best to hurry through the halls in a coordinated fashion. On the whole, they succeeded; however, there were a few accidental trippings and spectacular stumbles.

When they finally reached the infirmary door, Hermione reached outside the folds of the cloak and slowly turned the knob. The door swung open quietly, and the three of them quickly tiptoed inside before shutting the door silently. Ron removed the cloak from the girls and wrapped it around himself. His floating head whispered, “I’m going to check on Pomfrey;” with that, he disappeared from view. Hermione and Ginny quickly hurried over to Harry’s bed.

Harry was lying still, but his green eyes were opened and staring at the ceiling. He was so silent that Ginny almost thought he was dead; then, he blinked.

“Harry!” Hermione whispered joyfully as she reached his side. Harry sat up slowly and hugged her.

“Hey, Hermione,” he began sheepishly, before stopping. Ginny noticed his eyes on her. He whispered, “Ginny? Wha- What are you doing here?”

Ginny smiled sweetly and whispered, “I’ve come to see how you’re doing, Harry.”

His eyes turned hard, “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.” He hissed in reply.

It was Ginny’s turn to be surprised. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hermione beat her to it. “Harry,” she whispered gently, “Ginny helped us get you here.”

He shifted his gaze to Hermione in disbelief. When he saw that she wasn’t lying, he turned to Ginny and sneered, “Well, I don’t see why. After all, her friends would just love to see me suffer.”

Ginny couldn’t take it anymore. She stepped forward to stand beside Hermione, and slapped Harry. Before the welt on Harry’s face reddened, Ginny whispered furiously, “Harry James Potter. My bloody friends want nothing to do with you. Hell, I barely want anything to do with you either.” His anger turned to astonishment, but she continued, “I just want to know what in bloody HELL made you want to kill yourself!”

Harry was flabbergasted, as was indicated by his face. He looked at Hermione speechlessly, but she just stared back at him. At that point, Ron appeared beside Harry’s bed, swinging the Invisibility Cloak off of his shoulders. “Harry!” he cried out in relief, rushing to Harry’s other side. Ron plopped down on the bed unceremoniously, focusing his attention on Harry. “How are you, mate?” he whispered.

Harry just looked at Ron and asked quietly, “Did I almost…kill myself?”

Ron’s cheerful demeanor immediately evaporated. With a frown, he simply replied, “Yeah.”

Harry looked off into space for a moment. Absentmindedly, he murmured, “I… remember dreaming. Voldemort had gotten into Hogwarts somehow. He and a big group of Death Eaters; they were walking down the changing staircase, and he was laughing the entire time. I don’t know why,” Harry mused, “but he seemed to be coming from the fifth floor. Anyway, he followed the hallways like he knew them, even though he hasn’t been here in ages.” Harry paused to shudder, and continued, “I saw him coming to the Fat Lady’s portrait. He was just about to enter…when I got this awful headache.” Harry turned his gaze to Hermione’s, which was speculative as she listened to his narrative. “That’s when I woke up, and found myself in the common room.”

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny shared a meaningful look. Harry watched them in silence; when it continued for a moment, he asked uncomfortably, “What is it?”

Hermione broke the silence. “Harry, while you were dreaming…” she broke off, and grew silent.

“Yes?” Harry asked impatiently.

With a deep breath, Ginny plunged in. “Harry,” she whispered with an uncharacteristic gentleness, “You were imitating…You-Know-Who…while you dreamed.”

Harry gaped at her while the three of them stared back at him seriously. Turning to Ron, Harry asked, “Is this…true?”

“Yes,” Ron answered stonily. “You walked right past me, down the staircase, and to the fire.”

Harry looked confused at this, so Hermione interjected, “I think that was when you saw him reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady.” She paused, allowing this information to sink in, and continued, “You were just about to throw yourself into the fire, when Ron and I pulled you back.”

Silence permeated the room; even the crickets outside seemed to cease their sounds. With a croaky whisper, Ron said, “That’s when you woke up.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry whispered.

They stayed in that grim tableau for nearly twenty minutes. Finally, their thoughts were interrupted when Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. He was standing in front of Harry’s bed, for he had sneaked* up unnoticed. “Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and Miss Weasley,” he nodded in greeting, “thank you for acting quickly and bringing Mr. Potter. However,” he continued gently, “I must ask you to return to your dormitories. I would like to speak with Mr. Potter privately.” Although his eyes held their familiar blue twinkle, his voice was serious with intent.

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione chorused a glum “Good night” to Harry before they shuffled out of the infirmary door. Ron and Hermione walked together to the Gryffindor towers, his arm securely wrapped around her shoulders. Ginny followed some ways behind, but she was too busy thinking to notice this.

Something about Harry’s dream had struck a chord within her. The way that Voldemort had entered seemed…unusual, to say the least. Why was he coming down the changing staircases? The front entrance of the castle was on the first floor, near the Great Hall. How could he have come from one of the other floors? The fifth floor…maybe it was the seventh. The room of requirement…maybe someone could require Voldemort?

Ginny snorted in derision; who in their right mind would actually require Voldemort? Then again, there was the “lovely” Bellatrix Black… Ginny stormed through the Gryffindor common room, her thoughts raging about Bellatrix and the death of Sirius Black. That awful woman was the cause of so much misery in Harry’s life. Even though Harry wasn’t exactly a good friend anymore, Ginny was still outraged on his behalf.

Ginny’s anger abated when she reached her room, and saw her rumpled bed. Ah, to feel those sheets and that warm comfort again… Before she knew it, Ginny was curled up under her sheets, fast asleep.



*Quoted from Dictionary.com: “snuck is an Americanism first introduced in the 19th century as a nonstandard regional variant of sneaked. Widespread use of snuck has become more common with every generation. It is now used by educated speakers in all regions. Formal written English is more conservative than other varieties, of course, and here snuck still meets with much resistance.” I’ve always learned that “sneaked” was the correct form of the word, so that’s why I’ve used it here.

Note:, Huge thanks to dracoslytheringal, my lovely beta. I’ve been flattered by all of you readers of mine. YAY, I’m so glad that you’re enjoying my overactive imagination! I only hope the story lives up to your expectations…

I know that I’ve left quite a few loose threads, but I haven’t forgotten them. So, I’m going to answer some questions that my ff.net readers asked. I think you guys might like to know this information too.

LadyOfSlytherin asked some GREAT questions:

Blaise is diving head first into a whole world of pain but why hasn't he noticed that Ginny is always faraway? Or how Draco is acting as a sign? Blaise is in love with Ginny, and they say that love is blind. Also, Blaise knows why Draco is acting the way he is, but he won’t tell Ginny; after all, it’s Draco’s story to tell.

Is Ginny ever going to take revenge out on Pansy? Or will it be when she gets with Draco? Pansy will be dealt with later on in the story, but it will happen before they get together.

Many of you have asked When will we get to see some D/G action? An angsty D/G-ish thing will be coming in a chapter or two. The real romantic stuff will come much later, but the D/G is a recurring theme throughout the story.

DiaTheRyter pleaded: Please! PLEASE! Put Blaise with someone! Blaise will end up with someone, but it’s not who or how you expect. That’s all I can say on the topic.

And finally, LadyOfSlytherin wrote: Hmm my mind is full of so many questions but I will just wait for the next chapter before I ask anymore. It’s ok to wait, but if you have a burning question, ask me! I’m more than happy to answer it. But I should warn you that my intention with this fic was to avoid extreme fluffiness. So, expect an actual plot and story that won’t ignore Harry and Voldemort.

So, until five days or less from now: Enjoy!
-Jawy, 08.23.04

and even if everything goes wrong and we start to fall apart
I will understand where you are
I will understand this by myself
and I don't need to hear your answer
I just need you to feel
like there are no boundaries at all
- Trapt

Quidditch Widow

When Ginny awoke the next morning, she found it odd that no one else was in the beds on either side of her. She glanced out of the window and saw the sunlight dancing on the almost-bare trees near her window. The direction of the sunlight on the leaves indicated that it was nearly midday. Ginny immediately tried to jump out of bed; however, her sheets were so tangled around her legs that she managed to ungraciously thump down on the floor. With a muffled curse, she pushed herself off of the floor and threw the sheet back onto the bed.

She stumbled about the room after she had showered, still tired from her poor sleeping habits in the past week. When she finally looked presentable, she left her dormitory and proceeded to the top of the stairs that led to the Gryffindor common room. When Ginny saw the stairs, her memories of everything that had occurred last night and this morning flooded back Voldemort walking down the changing staircases…

Ginny looked off into space, lost in her own thoughts. Harry’s dream had terrified her last night, but her fears seemed trite this morning. After all, it was merely a nightmare. Harry, to her knowledge, had never exhibited any sort of Divination skills. So, this dream must have just been a warning of some sort, not a prediction of future events. But what was Voldemort warning them about? Would he actually try to attack Hogwarts and find his way to the Gryffindor common room? Or was he just threatening to do so, to see if he could frighten Harry? There was something about this dream that seemed similar to Harry’s dream from last year. Perhaps Voldemort was trying to trick Harry, just as he had when he sent Harry the dream about Sirius.

“Ginny?” Hermione called up from the bottom of the stairs, interrupting Ginny’s thoughts. “Are you all right?”

“Hmm?” Ginny replied. Shaking her head to clear it, Ginny walked down the stairs and smiled at Hermione. “Oh yes, Hermione, I’m quite all right. I was just thinking about Harry’s dream.” Hermione blanched nervously, for Ginny had said those words loudly and attracted the attention of a few girls who were standing nearby. Suddenly aware of her unwanted audience, Ginny lowered her voice and whispered, “How is he?”

Hermione smiled conspiratorially and whispered, “He’ll be released this evening. Pomfrey nearly had kittens when she caught me and Ron in the infirmary earlier.” She thought for a moment and asked, “How are you feeling, Ginny? We noticed that you weren’t around all day. Err…” she paused uncomfortably, “Zabini was worried about you.”

“Oh, I was just exhausted so I slept. What time is it, anyways?” Ginny asked nonchalantly. Her heart wrenched when she thought about Blaise. He must have been so worried about her, and she was almost certain that no one had told him that she was merely sleeping all day.

Hermione grinned and said, “It’s nearly six, Ginny. You’ve slept the entire day.” With a frown, she began, “That means you’ve missed all of your classes. If you’d like, I could find notes for-“

“Oh, thank you so much, Hermione,” Ginny cut in with a sickly sweet voice. She sighed inwardly. Some people just never changed, no matter what the situation was. Before Hermione could utter another word, Ginny said gently, “But I’d like to see Blaise right now. He must have been so worried about me!” And with another false smile, Ginny hurried to the portrait hole and left Gryffindor Tower.

She stood in the hallway, her back facing the Fat Lady’s portrait. Where would Blaise be right now? Usually, he waited for her outside of the portrait hole before dinner, but he was obviously not there. Ginny surprised herself when she missed him. After what had happened last night, she was desperate for a friendly face. With a regretful shrug, Ginny walked towards the Great Hall for dinner.

When she reached the doorway, she heard low voices muttering in an alcove nearby. Curiosity got the best of Ginny, so she slipped into the shadows and moved closer to the voices. When she finally heard them clearly, she stopped and listened. With a shock, Ginny realized that she was eavesdropping on Blaise and Draco.

“-but she’s always hated the fact that you’re next in line for Death-Eatership,” Blaise insisted.

Draco sighed and muttered, “She’s my bloody mother, what the hell do you expect?”

Ginny could almost hear the smirk in Blaise’s voice when he replied, “Well, my bloody mother has never objected to my intended future.”

“Zabini, you fucking git!” Draco said with a low laugh. “I think she’s on to something, though. I know they’ve been restless; it’s been much too quiet-”


“But your mother isn’t privy to any information from Voldemort,” Blaise muttered. “So, how can we be sure about her hunches?”

There was a long pause, and then Draco replied, “I still think you should warn Gin.” Ginny’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp of surprise. It had been at least two weeks since Draco had talked to her, but he obviously hadn’t forgotten her.

“There’s no fucking proof,” Blaise whispered furiously. “She’s already been having a trying time with that git of a brother and whatever the hell is wrong with Potter. I’m not going to scare her for no bloody reason.”

Draco sighed again and insisted, “She still deserves to know!”

“To know what?” Ginny wondered out loud. Before she realized her error, a warm hand slammed over mouth while an arm wrapped around her waist. Ginny’s screams were muffled as she struggled against her attacker, but he resisted her. As she was dragged further into the shadows, she recognized the faint smell of leather from the arm near her head. Draco had caught her.

When he finally let her go, he snarled, “You should have taught your little girlfriend some manners, Zabini.” He grabbed her shoulders and turned her so that she was forced to look into his face. Draco’s face was contorted into a sneer, but his voice was deceptively gentle as he whispered, “It’s impolite to eavesdrop, Weasley.”

Ginny pulled away from him, furious. “Well, you were talking about me! How the hell do you expect me to not listen?” she shouted.

Blaise moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around her stomach as he whispered in her ear, “Don’t shout, Ginevra. He was just trying to get a rise of you.”

Ginny slowly relaxed into Blaise’s arms, and smirked when she saw the frown that graced Draco’s face as he watched them together. She kept her eyes on Draco’s as she twisted her head and touched her lips to Blaise’s ear. “So, what did he want you to tell me?” she murmured.

Draco was now sneering at them, but his hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. Ginny wanted to laugh with glee when she saw his reaction, but she just kissed Blaise’s ear lightly and covered his hands with her own. Blaise tightened his hold on Ginny and turned his eyes to hers. His eyes were so dark in the shadows that they seemed black. She had never seen him look at her so hungrily, like he had been starved for months.

Ginny’s shock must have been reflected in her face, because he instantly let her go and shoved his hands in his pockets. He turned his gaze away from her and stepped away uncomfortably. Ginny stood there, startled at his reaction. There was a long pause before Draco sighed impatiently and asked, “Well? Aren’t you going to tell her?”

Blaise turned his eyes towards Draco’s immediately and stated flatly, “I don’t see the point.”

“Will someone please tell me what the FUCK is going on?” Ginny hissed.

Draco and Blaise seemed to ignore her as they continued to stare at each other. Ginny turned her head back and forth between them, wondering what they were up to. Suddenly, Blaise threw up his hands in defeat, “Bloody hell, Malfoy! There’s no fucking proof! But if you want to create mass hysteria, that’s bloody fine with me!” He then bent down and pecked Ginny on the lips before whispering, “I’ll see you later.” With a swish of his robes, he left them and entered the Great Hall.

Ginny watched him go in confusion, and turned her head to Draco’s quizzically. She almost fell down in shock when she saw that he was watching her just as intently as Blaise had before. But before she could say anything, she heard voices traveling near them. She turned to Draco in a panic, but he merely grabbed her hand and pushed her against the wall.

Ginny lost her breath with the force of the push, but she nearly fainted when she felt Draco’s body pressed against hers. She looked up in shock, and saw his eyes like warm, gray pools, staring back at her. He pressed his palms against the wall behind her, effectively trapping her within his arms. Draco stooped a little and whispered softly in her ear, “Pretend that I’m kissing you.”

His voice was so low and his breath so warm against her skin that she didn’t have the heart to protest. She almost groaned out loud when he touched his lips to her neck. It took all of Ginny’s willpower to stop herself from pulling him towards her. As though he could read her mind, Draco pushed her against the wall and muttered, “It won’t look real if you don’t pretend like you’re enjoying it!”

Ginny’s mind was a complete blank, so it took her a few moments to understand what he was saying. Then, she stiffly lifted her hands and wove her fingers lightly into his hair. The voices had drawn nearer at this point. A female voice was saying, “And I saw him standing in the corner watching me! Merlin, I nearly fainted-“

Ginny’s grip on his hair tightened, and Draco whispered in her ear, “Don’t go to the game tomorrow.”

In the background, Ginny could hear another female whisper, “Wait, isn’t that Draco Malfoy?” Ginny ignored the girl and whispered furiously in Draco’s ear, “Why the bloody hell not?”

Both girls seemed to have paused to watch, allowing Ginny to hear Draco clearly whisper, “My mother thinks that the Death Eaters will attack the school tomorrow. You’ll be safe in the castle.”

Now they could hear the voices of more students passing by to get to the Great Hall. One of the two girls who had been watching Draco’s back whispered loudly, “Probably snogging some third year. Those girls are so stupid…” They both ran off before the incoming crowd of students caught them. Ginny took advantage of the situation and pushed Draco away from her slightly. “But, what about Blaise and… you? You’re both on the Quidditch team; what if something happens to you?”

The crowd of students was passing by, but Draco shielded Ginny from their eyes with his body. He hissed, “Don’t worry about us. We’re supposed to be the bad guys, remember?” His gray eyes were flashing dangerously in the dark shadows around his face.

Ginny crossed her arms and lifted her chin defiantly. “If Blaise is still going out there, then I will, too!” she whispered back.

Something flashed in Draco’s eyes before they became hard and angry. He gripped Ginny’s shoulders tightly and shook her a little, whispering, “No, Ginevra! Promise me you’ll stay here.” With another shake, he emphasized, “Promise me!”

Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, Ginny stepped away from Draco. There was no one else in the hallway, so Ginny shouted, “No! I can handle myself, and I don’t see why you’re so worried about this!” She took a deep breath and said in a normal tone, “After all, Blaise said that you didn’t have actual proof. So, don’t jump to conclusions.” Avoiding his glare, Ginny turned and quickly slipped into the Hall.

Ginny sat down quietly, completely unnoticed by her fellow Gryffindors. Ron and Hermione gave her small smiles before they became engrossed in each other. Ginny piled food onto her plate, quietly lost in her own thoughts. She didn’t know what to make of Draco’s outburst. Why did he care so much about her? After more than a week of ignoring her, he was afraid that she would be hurt! But her boyfriend, Blaise, didn’t seem too worried about her. Ginny was relieved that Blaise wasn’t trying to coddle her; but she still wondered at Draco’s Ron-like protectiveness.

When this thought crossed her mind, she tried to suppress a grin, but failed miserably. She looked up to see if anyone had noticed her, and locked eyes with Blaise. He was watching her with a raised eyebrow, obviously wondering what she was laughing about. Ginny just winked at him and smiled broadly. Blaise winked back at her, and turned his attention back to his plate. She looked around the Slytherin table, and realized that Draco wasn’t there. Ginny wondered why he wasn’t at dinner, but she didn’t think too much of it.

After dinner, Ginny met Blaise at the entrance to the Great Hall, as she usually did. He immediately steered her to the same alcove that they had been standing in before. “Did Malfoy tell you about tomorrow?” She nodded, and he continued, “He didn’t frighten you, did he? He’s awfully fond of his mum, and does pretty much everything she says…”

Ginny grinned at him, and whispered, “It’ll take more than a speculation to keep me away from a Quidditch match!” Blaise grinned back at her and ruffled her hair affectionately. They then turned their attentions to deciding what to do for the rest of the evening.

Ginny wanted to finish some homework in the library while Blaise wanted to go flying in the pitch. They finally compromised and decided to roam the hallways quietly. But there seemed to be no reason for quietude; Filch and Mrs. Norris weren’t to be found anywhere in the castle that evening. Ginny shrugged it off, thinking that Filch had decided to sleep a bit earlier that night. Blaise thought it was a mighty strange occurrence, one he had never seen in his five previous years at Hogwarts, but he agreed with her.

They held hands and bantered back and forth as they continued their leisurely stroll through the castle. Ginny suddenly stopped smiling and looked up at Blaise curiously. “Didn’t you wonder why you didn’t see me all day?” she demanded.

Blaise grinned down at her and said, “I was bloody worried when you didn’t come down for dinner. But one of your dorm mates told me that you were still asleep. I noticed that you didn’t come to breakfast, so I asked Granger about it. She told me that you were up all night worried about Potter and something about a nightmare.” His face hardened uncharacteristically. “Do you mind telling me why you were so worried about him?” he asked forcefully.

Ginny stopped in her tracks and looked at Blaise in shock. His face was twisted into a… sneer, one that she had never seen before. Was he actually jealous of Harry? “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Blaise!” Ginny cried out. “Harry was bleeding; he was having, quite literally, a bloody nightmare!” Blaise’s face became blank, so she took a deep breath and continued, “He had woken up the entire house with this crazy laugh of his, and we were all so worried. McGonagall had to take-”

“Calm down, Ginevra,” Blaise interrupted. “Now, I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

She did as he suggested and began, “Well, it all started when I was woken up. See, Ron had apologized to me and I was just too tired to continue-”

“Did you say that Weasley apologized?” Blaise interjected incredulously. Ginny nodded absentmindedly, eager to continue her story. But Blaise let out a loud guffaw of laughter that almost awoke the portraits around them.

After she managed to shush him, Ginny pouted and asked, “What’s so bloody funny about Ron apologizing?”

Blaise looked at her, his eyes still dancing with mirth. He merely smirked and said, “Oh, nothing really. It’s just that the wanker you call a brother finally decided to take some good advice.” Ginny looked at him quizzically, but Blaise shrugged it off and urged her to continue her story.

With a shrug of her own, Ginny proceeded to relay to Blaise the details of last night, including Harry’s dream. After she was finished, Blaise stood there thoughtfully and said, “That’s strange. Has Voldemort ever possessed Potter before?”

“No, it wasn’t a possession. At least,” Ginny paused, “not like mine. He was just given these visions of what was happening to his godfather, Sirius Black.”

Blaise looked off into space and asked, “So, was it a warning, or a prediction of some sort? Or was that bastard using Potter like a fucking toy?”

Ginny replied, “I thought it was a warning, but I’m not too sure about it. I mean, if it was a prediction…” She trailed off uncertainly, shivering in horror. Blaise noticed her reaction and wrapped his arms around her.

“Let’s forget about it, shall we?” he whispered into her hair. When she sighed with relief and nodded, he gently kissed her and tucked her arm under his. “Well, Miss Ginevra,” he began playfully, “I can see that you need a tour guide on this delightful quest through Hogwarts castle. I believe I can fill that role admirably.” Ginny laughed at Blaise’s smug pomposity, but he continued, “Here, we have a portrait of Ella the Demented, from the fifteenth century…”

After an evening of good fun, Blaise finally walked Ginny back to the Fat Lady’s portrait. He bent down to kiss her goodnight, and whispered, “So, who are you going to cheer for tomorrow, Ginevra?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and grinned at him impishly. “Oh, for my favorite chaser in the world… Blaise Zabini!” Blaise looked smug and asked, “And what side of the pitch will you be sitting in?”

Ginny’s face fell with confusion. “The Gryffindor side, of course,” she said hesitantly.

Annoyance flashed across Blaise’s face as he looked down at her and said, “I don’t see why. None of the Gryffindors like you.”

“Well, the Slytherins would murder me if I sat with them!” Ginny exclaimed.

Blaise pushed her away with disappointment. “But Ginevra, everyone knows about our relationship. What difference would it make? And, you’ll be cheering for my team!” he insisted.

Ginny shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest resolutely. “No, Blaise, I’m not going to do it. I will be cheering for both teams, but I will be cheering for you especially.”

“What?” Blaise shouted, causing Ginny to wince. “I can’t believe that you keep running to them when they don’t even respect you or like you or… care about you!”

Ginny stomped her foot with anger. “They’re not my family, Blaise! They’ve never cared about me! So what difference would it make now? I am a Gryffindor, you know.”

With a sneer, Blaise stepped away from her. “Well, then,” he snarled, “you can go ahead and run to Potter, like you always do.”

Ginny gaped at him silently. Had Blaise, her beloved best friend and boyfriend, actually said that? Was he implying that she was cheating on him or something? Ginny was sure that she had told him that her crush on Harry had died a long time ago. But this jealousy from Blaise surprised and disappointed her.

Instead of trying to convince him of her trustworthiness again, Ginny merely turned away from him, muttered “Bludger” to the Fat Lady, and entered the Gryffindor common room. The one thing that the Weasleys did have was dignity.

Note: Don't kill me about Blaise! He's only human after all. At least the rest of him makes up for it.

So, what did you think of the D/G tidbit?

The next chapter is where the fun REALLY begins...

I started this story back in July, thinking that it was a good way to relax when work got the best of me. Now, I only do my work when I need a breat from writing this fic. So, give yourself a pat on the back. If it weren't for faithful readers like you, this fic would not have ten chapters, with the eleventh on the way.

you can hold me only if you too will fall
away from all these useless fears and chains
someone I am is waiting for my courage
the one I want, the one I will become will catch me
so let me fall if I must fall
I won’t heed your warnings
I won’t hear them
- Josh Groban

One Happy Thought

Ginny sat in the Gryffindor stands, presumably watching the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin that was being played in front of her eyes. Her fellow Gryffindors were on their feet cheering Harry as he chased after the snitch. At the moment, Draco was leading in the chase, but Ginny was not paying attention to the game. In fact, her mind was far away from the events playing out in front of her; she was remembering the past twenty-four hours.

When she had awoken that morning, Ginny was a force to be reckoned with. She snarled at everything and everyone that crossed her path. The stream of curses that she hurled at the temperamental showerhead was enough to warn her dorm mates to steer clear of her. Even Ron and Hermione scuttled away when she sneered at them. Harry, who was now well enough to join the rest of his house for breakfast in the Great Hall, looked like a lost little boy when he accidentally crossed her path.

She was obviously still upset about her tiff with Blaise the previous night. Blaise was mature enough to treat her like the young woman that she was, yet he was childishly jealous of Harry. Ginny had told him long before that Harry was merely an ex-crush and a family friend. If she remembered correctly, it was Draco who constantly teased her about Harry. Blaise had always shrugged it off. But why was he so upset about Harry now?

Ginny shook her head; there was definitely something wrong with Blaise. He had been a little off the entire night, as though he was worried about something. But what could Blaise be so worried about that would cause him to take it out on Ginny? She racked her brain for an answer, but could only come up with a farfetched one. Did Blaise actually fear a Death Eater attack at the game? If that was the case, why had he shrugged off Draco’s concerns as though they were nothing? Ginny sighed dejectedly when she thought about his abominable pride.

But Ginny shared that stubborn pride, for they had avoided each other all day. She refused to admit it to herself, but she had felt a pang of guilt when she saw that Blaise was not waiting for her outside of the Fat Lady’s portrait that morning. When she entered the Great Hall, she looked over at him instinctively, but he was preoccupied with talking to Pansy. She sat down at her table and resolutely tried to eat her breakfast without glancing at the Slytherin table. Of course she had failed miserably, and continued to watch Blaise surreptitiously.

But Blaise never acknowledged her presence. Throughout breakfast, he was occupied with eating, joking with Draco, or teasing Pansy. But Ginny’s scrutiny did not go unnoticed by Draco. He smirked knowingly at her when he caught her peeking at Blaise. Ginny cursed her Weasley heritage when she flushed hotly and looked down in embarrassment. But she couldn’t help herself – she just had to watch Blaise. Every time she glanced his way, Draco always caught her in the act, which caused her to grow angrier and angrier as the meal progressed.

By the time she was done with breakfast, Ginny was a spitfire of fury. She sat sullenly at the table, waiting for Ron and Hermione to stop cooing over each other and finally finish eating. When they were done, they left without Harry, for he had already headed out to the pitch with his teammates. Ginny stomped out of the Hall behind them, knowing that she was unnoticed by everyone in the hall except for the owner of a pair of gray eyes.

When Ginny joined her fellow Gryffindors on the stands to cheer for the team, she was shocked by their rudeness. As she walked down the rows looking for a seat, her housemates shifted over to hide the empty spaces and turned their eyes away from her. Hermione and Ron finally took pity on her and allowed her to squeeze next to them. Thus, Ginny found herself sitting precariously upon the corner of a bench. If she shifted over a little to her right, she could easily fall out of the Gryffindor stands and plummet to her death.

Initially, she had searched the players for Blaise, hoping that he had noticed her. But he was flying around with a calmness that she envied. Her heart sank when she realized that he was completely focused on the game, and had obviously not spared her a thought. So Ginny stared off into space, completely ignoring the excited yells of the crowd around her. She had wanted to watch Draco and Harry fight for the snitch, but Blaise’s silent treatment was wrenching her heart.

Suddenly, the crowd fell silent. Ginny looked up, startled from her thoughts, and saw that the eerie silence had stilled the Quidditch players, who were looking at the spectators curiously. But everyone in the stands seemed to be looking past the game, towards Hogsmeade in the distance. Ginny immediately shifted her eyes in the same direction, and gasped at what she saw.

A massive black cloud was moving towards the Quidditch pitch from the direction of Hogsmeade. As it drew nearer, Ginny shivered with cold and… fear. There was something about those clouds that struck her as worse than a mere thunderstorm. The entire crowd watched transfixed as the shadows drew nearer. Next to her, Hermione whispered, “That’s odd. It’s moving fast, and against the wind.”

“Dementors,” Ginny managed to breathe out as she began to shiver uncontrollably. Through the loud chattering of her teeth, she could hear Hermione gasp with horror and realization. Ginny sat down while trying to gain her bearings. Hermione took advantage of her prefect status and directed her fellow Gryffindors out of the stands and towards the castle. But the word “Dementors” had spread quickly, creating mass hysteria amongst the students. Ginny’s head began to spin as a stampede broke out in every one of the stands. All of the students began swarming towards the castle, running for their lives. Many had simply left their scarves, cloaks, signs, and binoculars behind. The Quidditch players hastily landed and retreated as well.

Ginny’s eyes began to tear as her fear steadily grew. Through her limited eyesight, she could see that the professors, Harry, Ron, Hermione, the rest of the DA, and Draco and Blaise had remained on the pitch, facing the Dementors with resolute expressions on their faces. Ginny was a member of the DA, and desperately wanted to join their ranks. But her previous feelings of confusion and dejection had weakened her emotionally. She was perfect prey for the creatures that were steadily approaching, and she was gripped in fear and hopelessness. With a weary sigh, Ginny closed her eyes in defeat.

She was trapped in her sheets, twisting around uncomfortably. Suddenly, Ginny sat up and looked around her. What was she doing in bed? The last thing she had remembered was writing about the Salem witch trials for her History of Magic essay in the library. She looked down at herself and noticed that she hadn’t even changed her robes. She managed to fumble out of her bed and tiptoe to the bathroom quietly in the dark, afraid of waking her dorm mates.

Ginny closed the door of the bathroom with a silent click, and whispered Lumos. A light appeared at the end of her wand, allowing her to study her reflection in the mirror. She gasped with horror. Her face, hands, and robes were spattered with blood. Her pale face was ghostlier than ever. Her hair was wildly tangled around her head, and her eyes seemed almost red in the glare of her wand’s light.

She cleaned herself up as best as she could and hurried back to her room to change into her nightclothes. Shocked by her former appearance, Ginny had lost all desire for sleep. She quickly grabbed her diary, a quill, and an inkbottle before she tiptoed out of her room and headed towards the common room. She stirred the dying embers in the fireplace into a comfortable blaze before she began writing.

“Dear Tom,

“I just woke up in my room, even though I am completely certain that I was in the library this evening. Oh Tom, I don’t know what’s happening to me! This time was even worse than the others. I found myself covered in blood, and I looked like a hellion. Am I crazy, Tom? Have I completely gone around the bend? I know you’re laughing at me for thinking such a thing. But if I am sane, then why does this keep happening to me?

“Oh Tom, you’ve been my only real friend this entire year. I’m always terrified of walking the halls now because of the students that have been petrified. But every time I think of you, I have the confidence to walk with my head up and my shoulders straight. I really just don’t know what I’d do without you, Tom. Thank you so much…”

Now she was sitting in the Chamber of Secrets, the puddles of water around her reflecting the grim, gray ceiling above her. Before her stood Tom, her best friend and secret crush, who was watching her with serious midnight blue eyes. Ginny was feeling a bit woozy, and idly thought that she must look like Charlie after he had had too many Firewhiskeys. She swayed on her feet as she continued to stare at Tom, until she felt herself collapse. Before she hit the cold floor, Tom hurried to her and caught her in his arms. He smirked as he continued to stare into her eyes and gently lowered her to ground.

Ginny lay on her back and smiled weakly at him. “Thank you so much, Ginevra,” Tom whispered as he brushed some errant strands of hair from her face.

“For what, Tom?” she whispered.

With another smirk, he replied, “For living, my dear Ginny. For living.”

Ginny was wakened from her semi-conscious state when she heard distant shouts coming from far away. She wearily opened her eyes and found herself in the stands, hidden behind benches. Her back was sore from the hard wood, so she shifted her hips and tried to sit up. By the time Ginny had successfully propped herself up, she was face-to-face with a Dementor.

There was very little to see of the creature; its body was completely enveloped in a tattered black cloak. Ginny momentarily marveled at the fact that the Dementor’s robes were shabbier than hers had ever been, but quickly snapped out of her thoughts. She seemed to be holding a staring match with the Dementor, for neither of them moved at all. Then, a rush of emotions swamped Ginny, and she felt tremendously cold and weak. Her eyes closed and she slumped resignedly against the bench behind her. She felt so helpless and tired; her bones and muscles begged her to give up fighting and let go. “Let go of what?” Ginny mumbled.

Her head was throbbing forcefully and lolled to the side, for it felt too heavy for her neck. Ginny gripped the bench behind her, afraid of banging her head against the wood. It was amazing that she had the presence of mind to even do so, because she was slowly slipping into a trance again. But Ginny’s hand brushed something soft and cool; she shook herself out of her reverie long enough to turn her head and look at what she had touched. It was a black dragon-hide glove that a panicked Gryffindor had left behind in the rush to escape. She pulled the glove closer to her, and lay back against the bench with her head uncomfortably pillowed on the soft leather.

With a relieved sigh, Ginny finally allowed her eyes to close and slowly drifted off. The Dementor was now hovering right above her, perfectly poised to give her a Kiss. One part of Ginny’s subconscious registered this, but she was much too cold and weak to do anything about it. She settled back… and caught a whiff of the leather. That scent was so familiar, but Ginny couldn’t place it. She slipped into another dream.

For some odd reason, she was at the lake on a cloudy day, her arms wrapped around a warm waist. The mist hung silently over the water, but she didn’t dare disturb the calm by saying anything. Who was this warm person that she was hugging? She could feel the strong muscles beneath the regulation gray jumper, so it had to be a male. Which male in her acquaintance would actually be gracious enough to show her this beautiful sight? She looked up at his face, but her eyes met the badge on his robes. It was green with a serpent and the words “Slytherin” clearly imprinted upon it. She inched her gaze towards his face, and was blinded by his bright blonde hair. Blonde hair? That could only mean…

“Draco,” Ginny murmured dazedly, her eyes still closed.


She could finally see his face clearly. He was watching her with a gentle smile and glowing silver eyes that looked almost blue. His gaze entranced Ginny; his eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, spreading warmth throughout her veins.

Ginny’s body twitched as she was wrenched forcefully away from that memory. Those blue-gray eyes haunted her, and she could feel fire coursing through her veins. Of course, that smell of leather had reminded her of Draco. And she, unfortunately, loved the bloke. Energized by her happy memory of their time by the lake, Ginny opened her eyes. But she was completely blinded; all around her was black. She knew that it wasn’t the evening yet, so it shouldn’t be so dark. Finally, she remembered the Dementor that was once practically on top of her…

With an anguished cry, Ginny wrenched her wand from her robes, pushed its tip into the muffled black mass that surrounded her senses, and cried “Expecto Patronum!” With a flash, a silvery hawk flew from the tip of her wand. The bird’s curved beak, intelligent eyes, and darkly speckled plumage transfixed Ginny. The hawk seemed to sense her fear, for it immediately flew high above her. Then, with sudden swoop, it sped through the air like a bullet; its talons poised and ready. Ginny watched with awe as the hawk’s talons tore into the black inkiness that surrounded her. The Dementor that had surrounded her sent up a high-pitched wail as it fled the hawk’s wrath. The bird tormented the Dementor a bit more before finally letting it go. When it was satisfied that the Dementor had left, the bird swooped down to Ginny, gave her a solemn look, and disintegrated before her eyes.

Ginny simply sat there for a while, trying to collect her senses. Then, she scrambled to her feet, grabbed the glove, and hurtled down the stairs towards the pitch below. When she reached the last step, she stopped and watched the scene before her. Harry’s stag patronus had effectively chased away the few Dementors that still remained. Some DA members were milling about, trying to calm the younger members and munching on chocolate. The new DADA teacher, the infamous ex-Auror Conrad Tucker, and some other teachers were urging the students to return to the castle. Ron and Hermione had their arms wrapped around each other tightly, and Ginny could see that Ron was trying to comfort Hermione. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were walking away from the group, their wands held out defensively. Ginny finally moved her legs when she spotted Blaise and Draco, staring at the retreating teachers’ backs. She rushed up to them, breathless and flushed. She knew her hair was flying about her in the wind, and her face was still pale.

She slowed down when she reached Blaise. He turned his gaze away from the teachers and stared at her. Ginny wasn’t sure if he was really seeing her or if his thoughts were elsewhere. “Blaise?” she asked tentatively.

In a second, Ginny felt his left arm around her waist, clutching her tightly to his body. His right hand was meshed in her hair. “Ginevra,” he breathed reverently as he stroked her hair. Ginny pulled away from him slightly, and smiled shyly up at him. He smiled back down at her, his relief and happiness evident in his eyes.

“G- Ginevra?” she heard from behind her. Ginny turned her head, and saw Draco standing behind her shoulder. She slipped away from Blaise and threw her arms around Draco’s neck. “Oh, Draco!” she cried aloud as she hugged him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you last night. You were completely right, and I was a fool-”

“Well,” Draco interrupted as he pushed her away slightly. Ginny loosened her hold on him and stepped back a little. Her breath hitched when she saw that he was smiling down at her, the same way that he had in that happy dream. His eyes were glowing again, giving them a bluish hue. He smirked and said, “I’m a Malfoy, and Malfoys are always right. Surely you knew this, Ginevra?”

She could see that he was teasing her, so she decided to play along. She completely withdrew from him, folded her arms across her chest. With a mock pout, she said, “But you lie so well! How was I supposed to know that it was real? I just thought you didn’t want me to see you lose the game spectacularly.” She smirked back at him and continued, “You know I would never miss watching a Malfoy lose a game of Quidditch.”

Draco’s smirk widened and he opened his mouth to reply. But an unusually motherly Professor Sprout interrupted him and shooed them towards the castle. Ginny and Draco were about to protest when Blaise grabbed Ginny’s hand and Draco’s arm and dragged them towards the castle. As she followed Blaise, Ginny noticed that the other students were returning to the castle as well, including Harry, Ron and Hermione.

When they finally entered the shelter of the castle’s walls, Blaise stopped and let go of Ginny. He turned his eyes to Draco’s, and they began conversing through their stares. Ginny was quickly becoming annoyed at this uncanny ability. She crossed her arms across her chest, tapped her foot against the flagstones impatiently, and asked, “Well? What are you two waiting for?”

Draco turned towards her and said, “Weasley, go back to your common room.”

“How dare you order me around!” Ginny shouted as she stomped her foot down angrily. “I’m not going anywhere unless I want to-”

“Ginevra,” Blaise cut in gently. “I need to speak to you. Now.” He gave Draco a pointed look, then grabbed Ginny’s arm and pulled her away from Draco.

Ginny’s eyes were spitting fire, but she followed Blaise anyway. Once they were out of Draco’s earshot, he released her arm and stopped walking. Ginny also stopped, looking at him confusedly. Before she could ask him why he had stopped, Blaise grabbed her shoulders and kissed her fiercely.

This kiss was definitely different than the other ones that she had shared with Blaise. His lips were forceful and insistent, as though demanding everything from her. When Ginny began kissing him back, she realized with a shock that Blaise was offering everything to her as well. He had never relaxed his defenses when he kissed her before, but now Ginny could almost feel him pouring out his soul to her. She could feel it in every sigh, every flick of his tongue against hers, and each stroke of his fingers in her hair.

She smiled against his lips and tried to pull him closer, but he broke the kiss slowly and pulled away. He smiled at her tentatively and whispered, “I’m sorry I was upset with you over nothing last night. I was… worried about what Draco had said, and when I saw you on the pitch…” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and scuffed his shoe against the stone floor, whispering, “You shouldn’t have been there, Ginevra.”

“Don’t you remember that I’m part of the DA?” Ginny asked teasingly. Then, she drew herself up to her full height and said proudly, “I made my choice long ago to be out there, Blaise. To be on the front lines of whatever happens to Harry and the rest of the wizarding-”

Blaise lifted his anguished eyes up to hers and whispered, “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, Ginevra.” Ginny’s mouth opened in confusion and shock, all thoughts of completing her sentence thrown out of the window. Blaise suddenly looked nervous, as though he had said too much, and said gruffly, “Come on, let’s get you to the tower.” He grabbed her elbow and dragged her along as he led the way to the Fat Lady’s portrait.

Ginny tried to say something, anything, but Blaise just ignored her and continued to hurry along the halls. Finally, she sighed resignedly and silently allowed herself to be dragged unceremoniously through the halls. When they finally reached the Fat Lady, Blaise let go of Ginny and grabbed her shoulders instead. They both stood rooted to the floor as they stared at each other wordlessly. Ginny’s eyes searched Blaise’s face for any sort of emotion that would explain his strange actions. She could see that Blaise was searching her face as well, but she had no idea what he was looking for. Finally, he broke the silence as he whispered, “Ginevra… I’m going to be doing things that you won’t like and won’t expect from me.” Ginny watched him silently as he took a deep breath and garnered the courage to continue. “But, just remember,” his eyes and words pleaded, “that I will always… care about you. Always, Ginevra. No matter what I do or say,” he insisted, “I will always be thinking about you.” He cupped her cheek with his hand and said, “I will always love you, Ginevra.”

Her mouth dropped open in astonishment, but Blaise just released Ginny from his grasp and sprinted down the hall away from her. He had turned a corner and disappeared from her eyesight before she thought to stop him. With a sigh, she turned to the Fat Lady, muttered the password, and entered the common room. The rest of the Gryffindors surged forward to greet her warmly; apparently, they had noticed that Ginny had been fighting the Dementors along with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the DA. But they quieted when they saw the glazed look in her eyes. In silence, they parted as Ginny slowly walked towards the fireplace.

She had barely noticed that the rest of the house was watching her when she reached her favorite chair before the fireplace. Ginny sank into it, grateful that someone had left it vacant. She stared into the flames dancing before her, oblivious to the whispering going on around her. Ginny’s thoughts were on Blaise. His words and actions were similar to what someone would say before they left for a certain death. She didn’t know what he was planning to do, but his anxious blue eyes haunted her. Frankly, she was terrified of whatever was about to happen; for she was certain that the worst was yet to come.

Nearly blinded by the brightness of the fire, Ginny turned her eyes down to her hands. She realized with a start that she still held onto the black dragon-skin glove that she had needed so desperately before. In fact, she was clutching it so tightly that her fingers were paler and colder than ever from the loss of blood flow. She smiled faintly as she remembered that this simple glove had been enough to remind her of her happiest memory. But that memory was in the past, and she seriously doubted that there would be many more in the future. The hopelessness that she had felt while she was under the Dementor’s influence swept over her again. Grimly, she stared back at the fire before her, never heeding the tears that streamed silently down her face.


Note: I told you everything would change! And I can't believe you guys were so ready to give up on Blaise! Then again, this is a D/G site...

I stole Hermione's line from LOTR: The Fellowship of the Ring. The movie, not the book.

I've been dying to write this chapter and the next four or five since I started the story. So, where do you think this is going? Any guesses as to what's coming next? Till chapter 12,

Jawy
08.30.04

when this is all over, there will be nothing left
so now you know
this is my call, do you hear me?
and if I fall, will you be there to catch me?
- Finch

Summons

Ginny continued to watch the fire, her thoughts a million miles away from where she was. The rest of her house was still in the common room, awaiting an explanation for the day’s events. Silence had fallen amongst the students, only to be broken by the occasional murmur. Ginny had remained in her seat and waited with her fellow Gryffindors, for she was just as curious as they were about what had happened. So the afternoon wore on, and Ginny’s tears slowly stopped when she realized that she was ravenous. But no one had indicated anything about dinner, and Hermione watched the portrait hole like a hawk to ensure that no one left the room. So Ginny decided to spend her time digging up every memory that she had shared with Blaise and Draco, and forcing herself to really remember them. By searing these memories in her mind, she hoped to never forget the almost idyllic peace that she had enjoyed before today.

When she committed everything to memory, she relaxed in her seat and began to sift through them as though she was looking through a scrapbook. She could still remember Blaise on the train, his playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She remembered the way he hugged her so tightly that she could barely breathe afterwards. She smiled when she thought of the way his blue eyes illuminated with laughter when he teased her mercilessly…

And then those eyes became deep, brooding silver. Ginny tried to shift her thoughts back to Blaise, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Draco. His quicksilver* demeanor was just as unpredictable as the shade of his eyes. Ginny found him fascinating and scintillating; he was like an elusive drug to her, something so forbidden and yet so filled with promises of satisfaction. Ginny grinned ruefully when she realized that remembering Draco was so easy. She didn’t have to search deep into her mind for memories of him. She was reminded of his actions, words, gestures, and aura everywhere she went. He had inconspicuously become a part of her breath, her mind, and her soul.

Ginny groaned inwardly as she forced herself to stop ruminating about Draco. She just could not comprehend how it was possible to be so in love with someone when she had only really known him for a month and a half. Hell, he even stopped talking to her for half of that! Ginny had never thought of herself as impulsive or foolhardy, but here she sat, clearly besotted with the git. She smirked when she realized that she had been sorted into Gryffindor, after all. She was merely following in the footsteps of all of the courageously stupid House members that had come before her.

But there he was, like a nagging itch in the back of her mind, just demanding to be scratched. With a hopeless sigh, Ginny slumped back in her comfortable chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and began to scratch earnestly at the itch that was Draco Malfoy.

At first she wondered what it was about him that had captured her interest. Clearly it had all started on that damn train ride. There was something that he said that had sparked her curiosity. She could still hear his words when he came across her and Blaise in the train compartment.

“Since when did you give a shit about a Weasley?”

Blaise said something along the lines of “she’s my friend,” but Ginny wasn’t too sure. The word ”friend” from Blaise barely registered in her mind. What really shocked her was that Draco had thought that Blaise cared about her. Him, a Slytherin, cared about her? What was the world coming to? But Ginny quickly turned her attention back to Blaise when she realized he had asked her a question. In her befuddled mind, she only heard “Aren’t we friends?” So, Ginny just nodded, still too shocked to speak.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Draco had shouted. Ginny remembered the curious once-over that he sent her way, as though sizing her up. But instead of launching into the reasons why fraternizing with a Weasley was a cardinal sin, he merely asked, “What happens when they find out?”

That was it. That was very moment that Ginny’s strange crush on Draco began. Instead of pushing the envelope and insulting her even more, he had asked how Blaise and he were going to deal with the consequences of associating with her. Ginny was surprised that he had been so amenable to the idea of being friends with her. Not only had Draco accepted her as a friend, but he had made an effort to continue that friendship. Obviously, Ginny concluded, his predilection for tormenting the Weasleys was either restricted to her brothers or was simply an act – or perhaps, it was a mixture of both.

Ginny smiled to herself as she felt a flush course through her veins. There was something sinfully intoxicating in getting a glimpse of the boy behind the Malfoy mask. She began a mental list of the traits that the real Draco possessed. He cared quite a bit about his friends, that much was certain. He was quite solicitous to Ginny before she had made that awful blunder of going out with Blaise. And now poor Blaise loved her… but she nipped that tangent quickly and continued with her thoughts about Draco.

With a gasp, Ginny realized that she and Draco shared many qualities. Both of them were fiercely protective of those they loved. She and Draco hated when people doubted or mistrusted them. They were also proud of who they were and where they stood in life. Granted, Ginny didn’t have as much money as Draco did, but she was proud of her family and the love that they exuded for each other. They were so similar that it was… completely shocking. Ginny had finally found someone else who understood her emotions and her past experiences with Tom, never treated her like a little pest or a sister, and cared for her just as much as her brothers did.

But Ginny pushed those thoughts away with a twinge of remorse. There was no way in bloody hell that Malfoy would consider her, a Weasley, to be a possible love interest. It was one thing to be her friend, but it was quite another to become a… lover, or anything remotely close to it. Ginny blushed again when unbidden thoughts of Draco in his Quidditch uniform that day sprang into her mind. He had looked exceptionally grubby after fighting the Dementors, with his hair tousled about on his head. His face was smudged with dirt and streaked with sweat. His uniform had also seemed worse for the wear, and she could have sworn that his left leg padding was practically falling off. All of these flaws had made him look human and undeniably sexy. And to think that she had just flung herself at him, without blushing once! He had been so disarmingly sweet…

A sharp crackle from the dying fire startled her, bringing her mind back to reality, as she looked about her and realized that the rest of her house was still in the common room. Now, they were attired in pajamas and nightdresses. Some of the seventh years had conjured up some hot cocoa for the first years, but she could see that they were still hungry and tired. She spied Harry, Ron, and Hermione whispering together in a secluded corner, completely ignoring everything around them. But they were the center of attention for the rest of the students, who were surreptitiously watching their savior and his two best friends as they plotted and planned. Ginny rolled her eyes a bit when she saw a small first year gazing adoringly at Harry. Had she really looked like that when she was a first year? With a contemptuous toss of her hair, Ginny stood up and walked towards her dormitory. She was uncomfortable after sitting in one position for many hours, and curling up in front of the fire, sipping on a cup of hot cocoa while in her pajamas was very tempting.

Just as Ginny reached the third step on the staircase leading her to her room, the portrait door flew open and nearly crashed against the wall. Ginny stumbled and almost fell from shock, but caught hold of the stair’s railing just in time. She turned her gaze towards to entrance, her eyes widening as they settled on Professor McGonagall. The professor’s hair was ruffled and dirty, while her glasses sat slightly askew on her pointy nose. Her face was unnaturally pale, and both of her hands were shaking visibly. One hand clutched at her muddied robes, while the other gripped her wand so tightly that her knuckles were white.

As though she was aware of the scene she created, McGonagall drew herself up to her full height and drew a shaky breath. She tried to assume her naturally stern demeanor, but ended up looking like a fearful child that was attempting to put up a brave front. After clearing her throat, she said, “I apologize for not sending you dinner. I…” she faltered, “Well, I regret to inform you that Hogsmeade has been attacked.” A collective gasp greeted those words, but McGonagall continued, “It is now overrun with Death Eaters.” A girl somewhere in the room squealed with fright, while Ginny shivered with fear. “You will not be allowed out of this tower until the Headmaster gives leave. Classes have been cancelled indefinitely, and when you are finally allowed to return to them, I must demand that you travel in groups no smaller than three. Dinner will be arriving shortly.” Lowering her head to glare at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, she stated flatly, “Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, and Mr. Weasley – I would like to speak with you three privately.”

The crowd of students exploded into furious whispers and fearful glances, each terrified of what this news meant. Ginny gripped the railing so tightly that she could feel the wood grinding against her bones. What would happen to Draco… and Blaise? They must have heard this news by now, and she was sure that they would be directly affected by it. Oh Merlin, she had to find them. Blaise had sounded positively suicidal when she last spoke to him. And now that he would be forced to choose sides… she just had to find him and Draco as soon as possible. But how could she leave? She was certain that they would not be allowed out of the tower that night, for the danger was just too great and far too near. They only way she could leave undetected was by using Harry’s invisibility cloak.

Ginny was sure that Harry would use it tonight, though; he was always roaming the halls, especially when expressly warned not to. So what other way was there? Ginny stood on the stairs, silently planning her escape from the common room that night. As she stood there, she saw that sandwiches and pumpkin juice had appeared on the tables in the common room. The noisy hum in the room rose to a high-fevered pitch as the students rushed to ease their hunger. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione escaped from McGonagall long enough to grab themselves a bite and a drink before returning to their conversation with the professor.

Strangely enough, Ginny’s thoughts turned away from her rumbling stomach and towards the invisibility cloak. Everyone was currently in the common room, and they were all preoccupied with stuffing their faces with food. Now was the perfect time to slip into Harry’s room and nick the invisibility cloak from his trunk. Ginny slipped up the stairs as quietly as she could, careful to tread softly on the steps that she knew would creak and groan in protest. She then continued upwards towards the boys’ dormitories, and found the door with the sign “Sixth Years” on its front.

After checking over her shoulder to make sure that no one was watching her, she opened the door silently and shut it with a soft click once she had entered. Ginny screwed up her nose in disgust as she was assaulted with an awful stench of male sweat, smelly feet, and moldy food. She held her nose between her right thumb and pointer finger as she tiptoed across the room towards Ron’s bed. The bright orange Chudley Cannons poster on the wall above his bedside table unmistakably marked it. She sidestepped his bed and searched to the two next to it for signs of Harry. The one to the right of Ron’s bed seemed to belong to Neville, for a Remembrall was glowing a bright red beside the lamp on the table. The bedside table to the left held much more promise, for on it was a prominent picture of a dark-haired man wearing glasses and a woman with laughing green eyes and vibrant red hair. Between them was a round, fat baby boy who was sucking his thumb and looking up at his mother adoringly. Ginny stopped to smile mistily at the beautiful picture, but forced herself to remember the purpose of her visit.

Harry Potter was evidently not very skilled at hiding treasured possessions, for his invisibility cloak lay rather innocently in his trunk at the foot of his bed. Ginny picked it up and swiftly shoved it inside her robes as she crept towards the entrance, careful to not disturb anything. She hurriedly let herself out of the room and ran down the stairs as quietly as she could. Before she reached the bottom of the steps, she peeked around the corner to ensure that she would pass by the common room unnoticed. Nearly everyone’s backs were to the stairs; she breathed a sigh of relief and quickly passed by and reached the steps leading the way to the girls’ dormitory. She raced up the stairs and barreled into her room. Slamming the door shut, she stood with her back against it as she attempted to catch her breath.

Ginny changed her clothes quickly and hid the cloak beneath her pillow before she went downstairs to the common room. Now that everyone had satisfied their hunger, the students were lounging about and chatting quietly, occasionally sipping some pumpkin juice. Ginny passed a few seventh years who were herding sleepy first years off to their beds. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she spied Harry, Ron, and Hermione whispering to each other, back in the corner that they had commandeered previously. Well, Harry and Hermione were whispering; Ron was too busy stuffing his mouth with sandwiches to really speak.

After grabbing two sandwiches and a drink, Ginny took up her regular position before the fire. As she munched absentmindedly, her thoughts returned to her conflicting feelings about Blaise and Draco. Ginny was sure that she loved Draco even more than she had ever loved Harry. But what good would it do if she revealed those feelings? She was not sure what Draco felt for her, but she was willing to bet that he didn’t love her. She was sure that he held some kind of affection for her, but it was only platonic in nature.

And even if he did love her, what would they do about Blaise? Blaise had actually told her that he was in love with her. Ginny only considered him to be her best friend and took advantage of their relationship to bask in the love that he showered upon her. She flushed with shame as she finished her last bite of sandwich. She was horrible for going out with Blaise when she wasn’t interested in him that way. That infernal pride of hers led her to accept Blaise as a boyfriend when she had seen Draco with Pansy.

Something about that thought jogged her memory. That day when Harry had asked her to Hogsmeade, hadn’t Draco told her that he had to go with Pansy because his father would suspect something if he didn’t? So that whole scene at the Three Broomsticks was merely an act. And she had fallen for it! With a groan, Ginny covered her face with her hands and hung her head in embarrassment. Maybe, just maybe, Draco had been upset that he couldn’t take her to Hogsmeade himself. Perhaps that was why he was in a testy, foul mood the two days before that weekend. Instead of seeing through his act, Ginny has been blinded by her anger and hurt and turned to Blaise. She knew now that she had been a fool.

Ginny felt the tears trickling between her fingers as she continued to sit before the fire, her head bowed with remorse. Was there any way to remedy the situation? Ginny almost jumped out of her chair and rushed to the portrait hole, hoping to find them so that she could make amends. But she stopped herself when she wondered: was Draco really worth the effort? Was she willing to give up Blaise and the comfort that she felt with him for the frustrating and often cold Draco? Ginny knew that Blaise loved her, but she was still unsure about Draco’s true feelings for her. What if Draco didn’t love her? If she made this big step, she could easily lose both of them.

When the exhaustion from the day’s events began to seep through her veins, Ginny decided to go to bed. She walked with tired limbs to her room, and managed to make it to her bed without collapsing. But before she turned down her bedcovers, she noticed a note lying on her pillow. It was a light yellow, folded piece of parchment that bore the name “Ginevra” on it. Ginny was a bit apprehensive of the note at first, but her curiosity soon got the best of her and she unfolded the note and began reading it.

“Ginevra,

“We’ve been summoned by our parents. Don’t worry – we’ll be fine. I really need to talk to you when I get back. I miss you already.

“B”

Ginny stared at the note in her hands with shock. Blaise had obviously written it, so the “we” that he referred to must have been him and Draco. But how in bloody hell had this note shown up on her pillow? And what had he meant when he said that they had been “summoned” by their parents? She snorted when she reread the line “we’ll be fine.” There was no way that they would be fine in a situation that involved the Death Eaters or Voldemort, considering their opinions of the Dark Lord. But at least Blaise had said that he would be coming back. Ginny had been worried that he would risk getting himself killed, but he was apparently not as imprudent as that.

She sighed as she refolded the note and tucked it away in her trunk. She was much too tired to actually attempt waiting up for them, so she decided to go to sleep. Yawning, Ginny slipped under her sheets and nuzzled the pillow affectionately as she tried to drift off to sleep. Her hands slid under her pillow to cushion her cheek, and brushed against Harry’s invisibility cloak. Ginny groaned exasperatedly; would she get any peace tonight?

But she knew that she had to return Harry’s cloak before he noticed that it was missing. She grumbled as she dragged herself out of her comfortable bed. Ginny had to stop herself and shake her head to clear it before she left. She proceeded to slip out of her room and into the hallways, down the stairs, and up to the boys’ dormitory once again. After tiptoeing into the sixth year boys’ room, she shut the door quietly after her. Ginny crept to Harry’s bed and paused at the foot of it.

Harry was moaning and he was practically twitching as he slept; obviously, he was experiencing another nightmare. His movements weren’t loud enough to wake anyone up, so the other boys in the room continued to sleep peacefully. She carefully pried open his trunk and stuffed his cloak inside it. Before she could shut the lid quietly, Harry abruptly sat up in bed. He clutched his scar on his head and moaned again. Ginny stood there, frozen in her tracks as she watched him fearfully. But after a few moments, Harry still hadn’t registered that she was standing right before his bed. Upon closer inspection, Ginny noticed that his eyes were glazed over and his mouth slack; he was still fast asleep and stuck in his dream.

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, but ruined everything when the trunk’s lid slipped from her grasp and closed with a loud bang. Her mouth gaped open in horror and tried to make a dash for the door. But that sound was enough to wake Harry from his trance. Before she was able to get within two feet of the door, Harry shot out of his bed and barreled into her. Ginny fell down with a crash, with Harry on top of her.

Ginny almost laughed at her current situation, but choked instead when she felt Harry’s hands around her throat. Startled, she swiveled around to meet his green eyes, which blazed maniacally in the dim moonlight. His grip tightened as he stared back and whispered fiercely, “How could you?”



Notes:
*quicksilver: mercurial, unpredictable.

Much thanks to dracoslytheringal, who’s just posted her fic Fallen here on D&G.com. Go check it out! Well, first review for me and THEN go and check her fic out!

Next time, on On Fire:

Tears:
Harry explains his actions. Ginny is shocked and extremely upset by what she learns. Then, Draco and Blaise finally reappear. But neither of them explain what the summons were about, which leaves our Ginny in a very pissed-off and hurt mood. Seems like crying is the best way to release some tension… and to use guilt to her advantage.

love has made me a fool
it set me on fire and watched as I floundered
unable to speak
except to cry out and wait for your answer
- Sarah McLachlan

Accusations

Ginny was breathless from the force of Harry’s attack against her. She sat on the hard wood floor of the boys’ dormitory, as the stone wall she leaned on dug into her back. She massaged her sore neck, certain that Harry’s firm grip had left bruises on her pale flesh. Her attacker was pacing back and forth across the floor in front of her. Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville hovered nearby, in case Harry lost his head and decided to try and hurt her again.

When Harry initially attacked Ginny as she tried to escape, he managed to awaken Ron. Ron was able to prevent Ginny’s imminent death by tackling Harry away from her. Their struggle roused the rest of their dorm mates, but a few well-placed locking and silencing charms prevented any other unwelcome intrusions. It took the boys a few minutes, but they were finally successful in calming Harry down. Ron, of course, wondered just what in bloody hell Ginny was doing in his room. With some quick thinking, Ginny claimed that she had heard Harry groaning in his sleep and entered the room out of concern and fright. This resulted in a raised eyebrow from Ron, but before he could pry further, Harry lunged at Ginny again, effectively ending all conversation for some time.

Once he had composed himself, Harry hadn’t bothered to explain or apologize for his actions. Instead, he resorted to pacing about the room like a caged animal that was desperate for release. Ginny noticed that Neville, Dean and Seamus periodically gave each other confused looks, but she and Ron concentrated solely on Harry. They watched warily as he ruffled his hair so that it was more unkempt than ever before. They noted his resigned sighs and furious huffs of indignation. They gazed at his scar, which he clutched at in obvious pain. They saw all of this, yet said nothing.

Everyone in the room jumped in surprise when Harry suddenly stopped in front of Ginny and yelled, “How could you, you bitch!” Ron immediately placed a restraining hand on Harry’s shoulder, while the other boys looking on, alert and curious.

Since Harry did not move from his stance, Ginny merely stared back at him and indignantly cried, “What in bloody fucking HELL are you talking about?”

Harry began to splutter in outrage, but Ron’s tightening hold stopped him from attacking Ginny again. Instead, Harry turned to Ron, “Well, Ron, I really had no idea that your family was so dense,” he stated sardonically.

Ron’s eyes flashed dangerously as he growled, “Explain yourself, Potter, before I hurt you.”

“Fine then,” Harry shrugged apathetically, “Your sister has been fraternizing with the enemy this entire bloody time.” With a theatrical sigh of despair and boredom, he continued, “She’s probably been spying on us for her little Slytherin boyfriends.”

Dropping his hand from Harry’s shoulder, Ron stepped away and stared at Ginny horrified. “No. It can’t be,” he whispered disbelievingly.

With a malicious grin, Harry turned to face Ginny. “Oh yes, it’s true. I just saw those bloody wankers with Voldemort through my scar.” His eyes glinted dangerously as he stooped down to brush a strand of hair away from Ginny’s face. “Tell me, Ginny,” he whispered softly, “what is it that girls find so appealing about evil?”

Ginny flinched visibly at Harry’s touch, and pushed him away so forcefully that he lost his balance and landed on his ass. “I’m not a fucking spy,” she hissed angrily, “and you’re a fucking asshole for thinking that I would stoop so low-”

“Ahh,” Harry interrupted, “but you weren’t stooping so low when you fucked Malfoy and Zabini, were you?” His brows were furrowed in rage as he glared at her.

Ginny got to her feet quickly, but not before she slapped Harry soundly. “And maybe you could help me, Harry,” she began in a sweet voice. Then, her face hardened, “What the fuck is it with people and who I sleep with? It’s none of your bloody business!” She spat out. She turned her angry eyes to Ron’s, but almost snickered when she saw his red face.

Ron stared at her for a moment, and then he found his voice and roared, “I knew it! I bloody knew it!” His fierce blue eyes bored into Ginny’s. “I told you, didn’t I? I knew those bloody wankers were up to no good! But you never listened to me, did you? No, you just had to go and-” he choked a bit, and ground out, “lose… lose your honour-”

That sent Ginny into gales of laughter. Who still used that antiquated word? As she shook with mirth, Ron just stared at her helplessly, still simmering from his emotions. Meanwhile, Harry had scrambled to his feet and grabbed Ginny’s arm again. She was helpless from shaking with laughter, so she posed little trouble as Harry dragged her to the door.

Ginny started to calm down when she noticed that she was on the other side of the door. As Harry moved to slam the door in her face, she elbowed it back open and pushed up close to him. “I can’t believe you, Harry. You know I would never join Voldemort or try to spy on you. I may have been infatuated with you for some time, but I never tried to hassle you, did I? So why would I start now?” Harry just sighed resignedly and raked his fingers through his mussed hair. Ginny plunged on, “And for that matter, I know for sure that Draco and Blaise wouldn’t be caught dead in Voldemort’s service – they hate him with as much passion as you and I do.”

Harry turned his tired emerald eyes to Ginny’s, “I don’t know what to believe about you, Gin.” After a momentary pause, he continued, “Just go, and leave us be,” he whispered, shutting the door in her face.

Standing stock-still, Ginny stared at the closed door in front of her. How had this happened? And was Harry right, had Draco and Blaise really been using her? Had she really been inadvertently spying on Harry this whole time? Before her emotions threatened to overwhelm her, Ginny stumbled up and down the various stairs that led to her dormitory. She succeeded in holding her thoughts at bay as she continued on, but could not hold out against them when she finally plopped into bed. After tucking her sheets under her chin and snuggling deep into the warmth of her bed, Ginny finally let her confusion sweep over her.

Was Harry right about Blaise and Draco? She could still remember Blaise’s contempt as he said, “My parents and the rest of Slytherin can kiss You-Know-Who’s ass anytime they want. That doesn’t mean that I have to.” That had occurred only a month ago, on the train ride to Hogwarts. Ginny was shocked at the proximity of that event, for with everything that had happened since then, it had felt like ages had passed. She remembered how Draco had denied any affiliation with the Death Eaters as well, although he was never as explicit as Blaise was on the subject. She had no reason to believe that they were lying, right?

Now that she thought about it, Blaise had been very vocal about his opinions, almost suspiciously so. Ginny was surprised that the Slytherins hadn’t noticed by now how he felt about Voldemort. And although Draco had never seemed enthusiastic when he was with Slytherins, he never displayed any of his emotions normally. She recalled the day when Harry asked her to Hogsmeade. Both boys had told her that, according to the other Slytherins and their families, they were pretending to befriend Ginny. And yet, all of their actions since then had seemed real. After all, no one could act that well, could they?

Ginny lay stiffly in her bed another thought popped into her head. What if they were pretending? It would be any Slytherin’s triumph – the ultimate deception. For the best lie that they could ever tell her wouldn’t be a lie at all, but the truth.

This prompted Ginny to sift through the mental catalogue of her memories with Draco and Blaise, re-evaluating each one with new eyes. Every happy moment she had spent with them could easily be construed as a lie. All of those nights holed up in empty classrooms – were they merely friendly discussions, or subtle interrogations? The times she had spent with Blaise walking the grounds at Hogwarts or roaming the halls at night… The elation she had felt when she realized she was in love with Draco…

Draco. Just hours ago, she had managed to convince herself that Draco really did care about her. Ginny almost snorted out loud at her own stupidity. How could she have thought that a Slytherin, a Death Eater’s son, and soon-to-be-Voldemort-minion himself would love her? What momentary insanity had possessed her into considering Draco to be a decent guy and a mere victim of his circumstances?

Ginny tossed and turned in her bed, her thoughts waging a war within her head. The most prominent voice was screaming obscenities at Blaise and Draco, indignant at the way they had both obviously betrayed her. But another voice in her head calmly insisted that she had no absolute proof of what Draco and Blaise were doing with Voldemort. It reverberated in the back of her mind, telling her that they were probably simply playing their roles as usual. But those characters were so flawlessly portrayed that Ginny was seriously confused as to which was real and which was fake.

For a minute, the latter voice took precedence in her mind. Hadn’t Blaise told her about the meeting in his note? Ginny sat up in her bed and quietly rummaged about her bedside table until she found the folded piece of parchment. Closing the drapes around her bed, she grabbed her wand, whispered Lumos, and reread the note. She was immediately struck by the vague wording. They had been “summoned” by their parents? She new how independent and arrogant Blaise and Draco were; their parents would have, at most, insisted or demanded. The only one with enough power to “summon” them was Voldemort. After all, evading their parents would be quite easy, but there was no way to do so with Voldemort.

The resentful voice in her head resumed its stream of curses as Ginny let the note slip from her limp fingers. So, she had been used; Blaise and Draco had been forced to meet Voldemort. Why had Blaise lied to her about this? It wasn’t an insignificant fact, but she would have understood why they could not refuse. True, she would have been very worried about them, but she wouldn’t have done anything stupid about it. She did have red hair and she was a Weasley, but that didn’t make her a brainless fool as well. The other voice momentarily poked into her thoughts. What if they had been ordered to meet their parents, and then later had been forced to meet Voldemort? Ginny shook her head dismissively; that seemed too improbable.

And if Blaise had lied to her about something like this, what other untruths had he told her? Were they little white lies, or were they large enough to encompass, say, his true feelings about Voldemort?

Ginny bent down to retrieve the note and replace it to its original location on her bedside table. She returned to her warm cocoon of sheets, still confused and angry over being used and deceived. The exertion of her thoughts finally exhausted her, as she fell into a disturbed sleep.

When Ginny awoke the next morning, she heard a steady murmur of voices from the other side of her dormitory’s closed door. The beds around her were empty, so she walked over to the door and poked her head out into the hallway; the voices seemed to be coming from the common room. She closed the door quickly and busied herself with getting dressed. As she made her way down the stairs from the girls’ dormitory, she passed other students who had also risen late. Apparently, very few people had slept well last night.

Ginny entered the common room, and saw that about half of her fellow Gryffindors were already there, standing about and talking quietly amongst themselves. She saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione in a corner, their heads bent together as usual. Ginny moved towards a couch nearby, prepared to wait quietly with everyone else.

She reclined a bit, for she was still exhausted from worry, anger, and a small amount of fear. Suddenly, she sat up stiffly. Those two bastards, whom she had once considered friends, had also made it impossible for her to have Gryffindor friends! She could still remember Blaise insisting that she sit with the Slytherins at the Quidditch game. “I can’t believe that you keep running to them when they don’t even respect you or like you or… care about you!” The only reason why the Gryffindors didn’t like her was because of him and Draco. The nerve of them! Trying to convince her that she was at fault for being lonely and ignored, while they just barged in and complicated the situation even more.

She sat for a moment, still seething with anger and resentment. Suddenly, her thoughts turned towards revenge. What would be the best way to prove to Blaise and Draco that she didn’t need them, that she was not one to be lied to? She spied Hermione shooting her a worried glance. It clicked in Ginny’s mind in an instant. What better way to annoy those two bastards than by becoming friends with their enemies?

Momentarily, that calm voice in her head wondered why she wanted to turn the tables on them in this way. After all, why would she do the same exact thing back to them? Before Ginny could ponder this, her indignant voice took over and reminded her that they had wounded her heart as well as her pride. And, she assured herself, NO ONE had the right to hurt her pride, for it was the one thing that was uniquely and truly hers. Without another question in her mind, she prepped herself for the role she was about play.

Ginny hid a feral grin as she got up and slowly walked towards Ron, Harry, and Hermione. She knew that she had to play her cards just right if she wanted to be accepted by them again. When she was within earshot, Ron and Harry stopped talking and just stared at her. Ron seemed pitying and disapproving at the same time, while Harry was just malevolent. She stood next to Hermione, paused, and then began, “I- I just wanted to apologize for what I did.” Ginny took a deep breath and steeled her mind; she had to get her expressions and voice just right to make this work. “I was stupid for thinking that Slytherins,” she spat the word out like she had Bubotuber pus in her mouth, “could be human. Or even nice.” She turned wet, doe-like eyes to Harry, and saw him soften imperceptibly as she whispered, “I was so wrong. Please… please believe me when I say that I didn’t spy on you, Harry.” A forced tear slid down Ginny’s cheek, as Hermione wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Ginny shook her head, indicating that she wanted to continue, so Hermione loosened her hold. “Please forgive me, Ron… Harry… Hermione.” As she uttered their names, she looked each of them in the eye with her best pitiful expression.

Hermione smiled and wiped a tear away from her own cheek. “Oh Ginny,” she gushed, “We’re just so happy that they didn’t hurt you!” She released a loud sob, and Ginny suddenly found herself weighed down from a forceful hug. Choking on some bushy brown hair, Ginny hugged back and made a small show of tearful happiness. Inside, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat. It was only a matter of time before Ron gently pried Hermione away from Ginny, and gave his little sister a big hug himself, “I’ll kill them, Gin, for what they did to you,” he whispered as he soothed her tears.

After another tearful embrace, Ginny turned to Harry. She knew she was quite the sad sight, her eyes red, cheeks blotchy, and lips quivering with emotion. She vamped up the pretences a bit, because she knew that Harry still had a soft spot for her. And was she ever right! The minute Harry looked at her shaking shoulders, he pulled her into a tight hug. Ginny just couldn’t resist grinning triumphantly over his shoulder as she hugged him back.

But Harry surprised her when he let go of her, and cradled her face gently in his hands. Ginny’s eyes widened when he began kissing her all over her face. His lips touched her cheeks, temples, nose, chin, jaw, and even the tips of her ears. After he finished, he looked at her from under hooded eyes, and then kissed her just as gently on the lips. Ginny was horrified, but she returned the kiss for the sake of her semblance.

When they finally broke apart, Ginny watched Harry carefully. His hands were still cupping her face when he asked, “Ginny? Did you really… you know, with Zabini?” Ginny almost started laughing, but she shook her head instead. Harry let out a sigh of relief and hugged her tightly again.

They let go of each other when Ron stood next to them and interrupted, “Well, Harry, Ginny, congratulations.” They looked at him with completely different expressions; Harry was happy and proud, while Ginny was startled and worried. What the hell did Ron mean by “congratulations”? Oh no. No, no, NO. She was not going to be Harry’s girlfriend- She was brought out of her thoughts when Ron continued, “Don’t worry, Gin. We’ll never hurt you the way those wankers did.”

“We love you, Ginny,” Hermione added on the other side of the couple. Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny again, as she leaned into him and smiled contentedly at Hermione. Dear Merlin, she had taken this acting a bit too far.

After a few minutes, the portrait hole opened to admit Professor McGonagall. The stern teacher was harsher than ever with her stiff robes and stylishly tilted hat. With an upturned nose, she surveyed the common room, which was now comfortably full with students. “Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley,” she began imperiously, “please search the dormitories for any late-risers.” Hermione and Ron scurried off to do her bidding while the rest of the students quieted down and waited respectfully.

Ron and Hermione soon returned with a few harried first-years. Once they had joined the ranks of the other students, McGonagall opened the portrait hole and ushered the students out of the Tower. After being confined to the tower for nearly an entire day, Ginny felt as though a whiff of fresh air met her as she crawled out of the portrait hole. The other students felt the same way, for they let out a collective sigh of happiness as they crowded the hallway.

Once all of the students had left and the portrait hole had closed, McGonagall led the Gryffindors down to the Great Hall. They passed through the deserted hallways without incident, and arrived safely at the doors to the Great Hall. Ginny let Harry tuck her arm under his as they passed though the doorway and headed towards their table.

But before Ginny moved a few millimeters, Blaise appeared in front of her, relief clearly etched on his face. “Ginevra! I’m so glad-” He broke off when he noticed her arm entwined with Harry’s.

A frown crossed his features, and he opened his mouth again. Ginny beat him to the chase by schooling her features into a scowl as she retorted, “Shove it, Zabini.” She had wanted to sigh with relief when she saw Blaise, but she couldn’t ruin all of her efforts to get back at him.

At these words, Blaise adopted the expression of a flabbergasted fish. Harry immediately cut in, “Enjoy the Crucios, Zabini. I hear they’re quite spectacular for Voldemort’s minions.” With that, he held Ginny’s arm tighter against his body and began drawing her away from Blaise. As Harry turned to face the Gryffindor table, Ginny notice an uncharacteristic, Malfoy-like smirk adorning his features.



Note: All right, before you crucify me for not including any D/G, let me just say: THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL HAVE A LITTLE D/G IN IT!

That said, what do you think of the new Harry/Ginny thing? No, I'm not going too fast with it, because Harry never really said anything to Ginny about a relationship. Ron just started assuming things, like the idiot he normally is. So, on to the rave reviews or flames! I'll take either of them.

Jawy
09.18.04

Note: So you guys know, this chapter is 12 pagaes long to commemorate reaching the 100th-review mark at FF.net. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!

I'm empty, lonely, and accused
accused without a word
my fingernails are chipping down
from clawing in the dirt
I'm so lost, lost and confused
I threw it all away
- Skillet

Tears

Although Harry was dragging her away, Ginny remained standing, torn over whether she should explain herself to Blaise. Finally, the haze in her mind cleared and an angry voice within her head refused to listen to Blaise’s excuses. So, she turned her back on Blaise and allowed herself to be hauled off by Harry.

When she reached an empty seat, her curiosity got the best of her; she lifted her eyes and searched for Blaise. She found him with his back towards her, standing right next to Draco. Blaise’s shoulders were tense, and his hands hung limply by his sides. Draco, who was also standing, was facing her with his head tilted towards Blaise’s. Apparently, Blaise was muttering something in his ear. She could see Draco’s grey eyes growing wide with shock and disgust as he listened to his best friend. At that moment, his gaze rested on her, and he gave her the foulest look he had ever given anyone, including Harry or Ron. Ginny blushed guiltily and immediately dropped her eyes.

She sat down at the table stiffly, intensely uncomfortable with the results of her plan. She was saved from wallowing in her misery by a loud clinking of metal against glass. She turned her eyes to the staff table, and found that Dumbledore was standing up with a solemn expression, waiting to speak.

The chatter at the other tables instantly ceased as he began, “My dear students, I would like to apologize for neglecting your dinners last night.” There were a couple of grunts of disapproval from some of the boys at the tables, but the room remained mostly quiet. “As you may already know,” he continued, “Hogsmeade was attacked last night. It is now in the hands of Death Eaters.” Ginny rolled her eyes when a girl squealed of fright; she couldn’t understand why the other students were surprised by the news, for they had already heard it. Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly, and everyone turned their attentions to him once more. “Needless to say, it is now extremely dangerous to leave the castle at any time of day. The Quidditch season has been temporarily postponed, and all Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures classes have been cancelled indefinitely.”

A louder murmur began in the room, but Dumbledore immediately raised his hand, and the students quieted again. “However, all other classes will continue again tomorrow. As the heads of your houses have informed you, more safety precautions must be made, even while inside the castle. Students must travel in groups of no less than three during the day. At night, no one will be allowed outside of their house for any reason.” He looked pointedly at Harry, and continued, “I must insist that all of you respect and follow these rules during these difficult times. As a reward,” he paused with an impish smile. Ginny could have sworn that she saw his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. “We will have a feast on Friday evening, to celebrate Halloween. As there will not be a Hogsmeade weekend before it, there will be an informal dance. Students are welcome to dress formally or casually, whichever they prefer. I must insist that everyone attends the feast and the dance, whether it is with a partner or with friends.” A louder, excited murmur broke out amongst the students. Ginny snorted to herself; she had no friends now, and she doubted that she would have a date either. Not bothering to capture the students’ attentions, Dumbledore concluded, “Now, without further ado,” he waved his hands, “let us eat!”

Ginny had barely listened to him, and was quite startled when food suddenly appeared on the table before her. She began to serve herself mechanically, reaching for food that she would normally eat, but she was not conscious of what she was doing. While her hands moved, Ginny’s thoughts turned to Blaise and Draco. Yes, she had achieved her goal; both boys had been coldly rebuffed, and they knew that she was aware of their meeting with Voldemort. But everything else had gone to hell. Blaise now thought that she had run straight into Harry’s arms, while Draco was sneering at her like she was something smelly on the sole of his shoe. If she hadn’t bothered to say anything, at least Draco and Blaise would keep her company during the feast, instead of Harry. Maybe she would have been able to dance with Draco, and finally feel him hold her…

She flushed with embarrassment, quickly looking around to ensure that no one was watching her. But, once again, no one was paying any attention to her. She noticed that her fellow Gryffindors seemed to tolerate her presence, following the lead of their hero and best friends. However, they still talked around her, never offering to include her in their conversations. Ginny was quite offended by their fluctuating loyalty to her; as she thought it over, she grew frustrated. Didn’t these fools know how to think for themselves rather than following Harry’s actions blindly? True, Harry would be their savior and leader once Voldemort was defeated, but that status didn’t mean that he was a god!

Ginny turned her attention back to her food in an effort to curb her anger. As she ate, she looked around the hall with a bored expression. She was startled to find that most of the students at the other tables were watching her surreptitiously and whispering to themselves. Ginny rolled her eyes inwardly, and turned her attention back to her plate. She knew that they were probably gossiping about her sudden change in companions, and what a slut she was for jumping from Blaise to Harry. Just a month ago, the knowledge that she was the subject of gossip would have riled her anger; now, she simply shrugged it off and continued eating.

Once dinner was done, Ron, Hermione, and Harry escorted her out of the hall. Before they reached the Gryffindor Tower, Harry gave Ron and Hermione a silent look and steered Ginny off to a deserted classroom. Ginny followed unresistingly, for she had an idea of what was about to come. Once they were both inside the classroom, Ginny took a seat at a desk while Harry locked the door with his wand and cast a spell to prevent anyone from listening to them. Ginny watched him doing this, and when he turned to face her, she saw that his green eyes seemed brighter than ever. She dropped her eyes from his quickly and began to fidget. Just how was she going to tell Harry that she still wasn’t interested in him?

Harry smiled at her, and sat in the seat right in front of her. He twisted around to face her, and captured her nervously cold hands in his. “Ginny,” he began, trying to get her attention. Ginny lifted her eyes to his once more, almost afraid of what she would see. Her heart sank when she saw that he was smiling softly at her. “I… I wanted to ask you-”

Determined to stop him, Ginny put on her best teary-eyed expression and interrupted, “Harry, I- I don’t think I can go to the dance with you.”

His green eyes widened with shock, and he dropped her hands with disappointment. “Why not?” he asked harshly, as he stood up and turned away from her.

She sighed inwardly; she should have known that Harry would take this badly. “I’ve been so hurt by Blaise and Draco, Harry,” she said gently. “I just don’t know if I could handle a relationship or dating right now.” With a whisper, she continued, “Couldn’t… couldn’t we wait just a bit?”

He turned back to her and asked vehemently, “I don’t see why. Those wankers never cared about you, and you know it.” Harry dropped back into his seat, and said soothingly, “Why do you still care about them, Ginny? You know that I care for you more than they ever pretended to. Why go on hurting, when you can be happy with me?”

Ginny gaped at him, shocked at his eloquence. She searched her mind for a suitable reply, but was distracted by a nagging thought in the back of her mind. She had experienced a strange sense of déjà vu when he spoke those words. After some thought, she finally realized why that impassioned speech had seemed so familiar. She remembered Blaise’s words in the Astronomy Tower, the night that Ginny had agreed to be his girlfriend. “You can tell me everything and trust me completely. I’ll never hurt you…” Ginny sighed with nostalgia; everything had seemed so perfect that night – before he lied to her about his meeting with Voldemort.

Ginny refocused her eyes on Harry’s, and found him watching her speculatively. There was something distinctly shifty and Slytherin in that gaze. She shivered involuntarily, and suddenly felt like a pawn. Blaise and Draco had used her, and now she knew that Harry was somehow twisting this situation in his favor. Without wondering why Harry would bother to do such a thing, Ginny immediately felt her eyes harden resentfully. She refused to be used anymore. And how dare he try to do so, when he almost killed her last night! Before she could stop herself, Ginny blurted out her thoughts to him.

She felt like time slowed as she watched his face twist into a nasty sneer. “So? I made a mistake by accusing you of being a spy,” he spat out. Ginny was furious at his lack of remorse, and stood up angrily. Before she could retort back, he jumped to his feet and glared at her. “So, you’re still in love with your precious Slytherins?” he asked intensely. “Well, you can have them! You were never worth the effort, anyway.” He turned, unlocked the door, removed the silencing charms, and stormed out.

For the second time that night, Ginny had been utterly floored by Harry’s actions. What in bloody hell was wrong with him? She shook her head in amazement and left the room, slowly and stealthily making her way to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady looked at her very disapprovingly as she gave the password, but nevertheless allowed her to enter. Once she had crawled her way through and stood up, she noticed Ron and Hermione seated on a nearby sofa, watching her with stony expressions.

Apprehensively, Ginny slowly walked to them. “What’s wrong?” she asked, with a puzzled look on her face.

Ron’s eyes seemed to blaze as he jumped up and glared at her. “How could you just use Harry like that?” he demanded.

Ginny frowned and replied, “I never used him for anything. He just assumed-”

“Well, you never said anything to stop him from assuming, did you?” Ron returned, his arms folded across his chest. Hermione quickly rose from her seat and placed a placating hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“Now, Ron-” his girlfriend began.

Ron just shook her hand off impatiently, wagging his finger in front of Ginny’s face as he said, “I can’t believe the bloody idiot still loves you. You certainly don’t deserve it!”

Ginny blinked, stunned by the forcefulness of his words. Ron continued to stare her in the eyes, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Hermione was watching them fearfully, her hand hovering near the wand in her pocket. After a few moments of intense staring, Ron snorted with disgust and left for his dormitory, pushing past Ginny forcefully.

She stumbled a bit, but gained her bearings as she watched her once-beloved brother storming up the stairs to his room. What was wrong with him? Did he actually expect her to be in love with Harry, especially after last night? She turned to Hermione, her eyes pleading for an explanation.

But Hermione turned disappointed eyes to Ginny’s and said, “He is right, in a way. I thought you were in love with Harry for so many years, Ginny.” She whispered, “Why did you have to go to Zabini and pretend to love him? Were you actually trying to make Harry jealous?” She paused and peered at Ginny speculatively. “Well, it worked, because he was completely heartbroken.” She sighed, and shook her head. “I can’t believe you would do that to someone like Harry. You know, I never thought I’d say this,” she turned her sorrowful eyes back to Ginny’s, “but he deserves someone better than you.” With that quiet bomb, Hermione made her way to her own room.

Shocked and utterly confused, Ginny sank down on the sofa and buried her head in her hands. She didn’t cry, however, because she really wasn’t sorry to see Ron and Hermione leave her. But what in Merlin’s name had just happened? Why did everyone think that she was leading Harry on? She could have sworn that her refusal to his invitation to Hogsmeade was clear. She fumed silently, thinking about how she was more entitled to a pity party than Harry was. Her first year, she was possessed by Voldemort because of Lucius Malfoy. Until her third year, she had been in love with Harry Potter, but he had barely spared her a glance. This year, she had become friends with Blaise and Draco, but had been used by them and tossed away like rubbish. Then, Harry had tried to strangle her, and accused her of being a slut. Hell, even her own brother accused her of being one! Now, everyone in this bloody school considered her a slut. With a defeated sigh, Ginny trudged up the stairs to her dormitory room, and fell into an exhausted slumber.

She was running through the common room and out of the portrait hole so quickly that it seemed a Dementor was chasing her. She managed to slow down a bit when she almost collided into a person standing right in front of the portrait, obviously waiting for her. Before she could catch her breath, this unknown person grabbed her arm and ran towards the Astronomy Tower, forcing her to follow. As they raced up the winding stairs, Ginny’s head reeled with dizziness. But she was not allowed any respite from the maniacally frantic person in front of her.

They finally reached the top of the tower, and stopped. Ginny bent down and grabbed her knees as she stood, panting from the exertion. Once she had gained her bearings, she looked up and found herself gazing at Draco Malfoy. He was just as winded as she was, but he was staring up at the night sky.

They remained like that for a while, not speaking to each other. Ginny’s breaths finally slowed down, and she shivered involuntarily from the cold. Her movement caught Draco’s attention, and he turned to face her. His sharp gray eyes pierced hers for a moment. Then, with a sad smile, he climbed up onto the short stonewall that separated them from the night air. Before Ginny comprehended what was happening, she saw him disappear in a flurry of flapping black robes.

“No!” she cried out, rushing to the edge of the parapet, looking down into the inky blackness below. Although she searched for him, she could not find his telltale blonde hair and pale skin in the murkiness. Sobs racked her body as she finally realized that she had lost Draco.

After a minute, she heard loud footsteps behind her. She swiveled around, and found herself face-to-face with Blaise. Her wavering smile of greeting gradually turned into a frown of worry as she watched his furious expression. “You- you-” he spluttered, “you… just let him fall!”

Ginny began to protest, but she was stopped when he grasped her shoulders and squeezed them hard. “How could you, Ginevra?” he whispered furiously. She couldn’t think up an answer, for her mind was blank with shock. She didn’t know he was going to jump! She would have stopped him, if-

“How could you, Ginevra?” Blaise growled, angry that she didn’t answer him. But before she could begin to answer in her own defense, his hands moved up to encircle her neck. “How could you!” he screamed maniacally as his grip tightened. Ginny gasped in surprise, and she felt a familiar dizziness from lack of oxygen. She slowly lost sense of her surroundings, and could barely feel Blaise picking her up by her neck, and lifting her over the parapet. All of a sudden, she looked around her and found that she was dangling by her neck. Her hands reached up to claw at Blaise’s wrists, but his hold was firm. “How could you?” his voice echoed in the swirling darkness that surrounded her. Her vision grew blurry, and she knew that she was losing consciousness. The last thing that she saw before she went blind was his light blue eyes, blazing at her in fury.

But she didn’t lose consciousness. Her vision actually cleared slightly, as the blue eyes that bored into hers turned a darker shade. Blaise’s aristocratic nose slowly grew longer, and his hair began to redden. Before long, Ginny realized that she was staring at Ron. Ron was yelling at her, “… you slut! You’re a disgrace to the Weasley name! How could you do that to Harry?” His grip on her throat tightened as she tried to scream, struggling to break free from his grasp. “How could you?” echoed around her, as everything slowly faded away, except for his dark blue eyes.

Her vision cleared again, and those familiar blue eyes became a brilliant emerald. Ron’s gangly frame shortened and his bright hair darkened, until Harry stood before her. He was shouting at her, “I loved you, you spy! And you consider yourself a Gryffindor? How could you betray us like that? How could you betray me?” Ginny saw her world darken again, as she heard “How could you?” reverberating in her head.

Once again, her vision sharpened a bit. This time, Harry’s eyes turned a dark, chocolate brown, and his unruly hair became longer, frizzier, and... bushier. She let out a strangled gasp of surprise when she saw Hermione standing in front of her. Both of them stared at each other for a moment. Then, Hermione smirked, and released her hold on Ginny’s neck. Ginny screamed hoarsely as she hurtled down into the blackness beneath her…

Ginny sat up in bed, sweating and panting. As her rapidly beating heart slowed, she realized that she was just dreaming. But that dream had been so frighteningly real. She closed her eyes, causing her feet to remember the terrifying sensation of dangling in thin air. She opened her eyes again, and checked her clock. She had only been asleep for a mere two hours. With a defeated sigh, she lay down again, and attempted to fall asleep.

Three days passed with an agonizing slowness. Because the students were not allowed out of the castle, Hogwarts was essentially under siege. There had been no attack on the castle, but students caught glimpses of people in black cloaks in the shadows of the Forbidden Forest when they peered out of the windows. Parents worried about their children, owled constantly and berated Fudge for not protecting Hogwarts and Hogsmeade better. The telltale pops of apparating Aurors and ministry officials had become commonplace. Between the students, teachers, officials, Aurors, and fugitives from Hogsmeade, the castle was a hubbub of activity.

Ginny’s classes went by smoothly, or as smoothly as could be expected. The students’ class work suffered from their worries and frights. So many charms, transfigurations, and potions had gone haywire in those few days that the hospital wing was filled to maximum capacity, and classes had been cancelled yet again. At any given moment, Madame Pomfrey could be spotted bustling about like a chicken without its head. Snape was often with her, sneering at students as he ladled out potions and ridicule with equanimity.

Surprisingly, Harry called a secret meeting of the DA on Tuesday night. Ginny attended along with the other members that had been there during her fourth year. When Ginny had entered the room, she noticed that everyone was staring at her with hostile eyes. Conscious of the attention she was getting, Ginny demurely took a seat close to the wall. Once everyone had settled in, Harry looked over them with serious eyes and began, “I’m glad to see that you guys are still willing to continue the DA. I’ve called this meeting-“

“Why is she here?” Ernie Macmillan rudely interrupted, with a pointed stare at Ginny.

Ginny’s face blanched when she heard agreeing murmurs from the rest of the room. Hermione stood up and said, “Well, she’s still a member, even though she’s made some unfortunate choices…” she trailed off miserably.

Angrily, Ginny stood up and said, “I’m still loyal to Harry, you know. Just because I became friends with Slytherins doesn’t mean-“

“But Ginny,” a quiet voice interrupted. Ginny looked at Luna Lovegood with shock as the other girl gently continued, “there’s a reason why Slytherins aren’t allowed in the DA. They’re untrustworthy, and since you were associated with them, we’re not sure if we can trust you either.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Ginny retorted. She paused, trying to think of a way to prove her loyalty to the group. Then, she realized that the entire room was silently watching her with mistrustful eyes. Warily, she asked, “Does everyone feel this way?”

Everyone dropped their eyes shamefully. Ginny sighed dejectedly, for it was obvious that no one trusted her. She was about to drop back into her seat when Hermione piped up, “Why don’t we put it to a vote?” Everyone looked at her incredulously, so she hastily added, “We’ll use a silent vote.” With a flick of her wand, a piece of parchment and a quill sat in everyone’s lap. “Do you think Ginevra Weasley should remain in the DA? Write down ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the scratching of quills against stiff parchment. “Time,” Hermione called after a minute. All of the parchments vanished from their laps and appeared on Hermione’s. The bushy-haired girl read them all quietly, and then turned pitying eyes to Ginny’s.

With a heavy heart, Ginny had watched Hermione get up and magically erase her name from their list. Ginny tried to keep her motions steady and calm as she got up and left the room. Once the door closed behind her, she ran back to her room. She dropped into bed, closed the drapes around her bed and cast a Silencing charm on them before the tears erupted; she sobbed so heart wrenchingly loud that she sounded like a mournful wolf. That night, Ginny knew that she had reached the lowest pit of despair. She could not help but wonder if things would ever look up again.

Ginny mused about these recent events as she lay in her bed, quite awake. It was Thursday night, and she had been unable to get a decent night’s sleep since that horrific dream on Sunday. She had wasted away the days alone, and utterly bored. She had glimpsed Draco and Blaise in the halls between classes, but they both ignored her and pretended as though she didn’t exist. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had decidedly given her the cold shoulder, and plotted in secrecy. Even the other Gryffindors did not bother to talk to her or acknowledge her presence.

Angrily, Ginny tossed back her covers and got out of bed. There was no point in staying in bed, for her attempts at sleep were futile. She quietly shut the door to her dorm room, silently making her way down the stairs to the common room. Ginny was at her wit’s end, but at least the common room would be a welcome relief from the monotony of her day. She snuggled into her favorite chair comfortably, and stared at the fire; her thoughts immediately turning to Blaise and Draco.

“Oh, drat it,” she huffed indignantly as she hoisted herself out of her chair and searched for something to read. At this point, even a Playwizard would be a welcome relief from her misery and loneliness. But all she found was a dog-eared copy of Witch Weekly that was five months out-of-date. She flipped through it with a bored expression. “How to Snag A Date” screamed an article title. Ginny groaned as she remembered the dance that would take place tomorrow evening. Not only was she dateless, but she also no longer had any friends to go with! Irritably, she tossed the magazine aside.

What she needed was a really good distraction, something that would keep her mind occupied. She snorted derisively to herself. Who was she kidding? There was nothing interesting going on in this school since the siege began. Hell, students couldn’t even roam around the halls after curfew, which had been bumped up to 8:00 pm, instead of the customary 10:00 pm. She stared about her with disgust, and could almost feel herself sneering at the situation.

Her eyes momentarily rested on the wide bay window in the common room. She had felt so cooped up in the castle the past three days. She missed watching the lake as the wind whipped her hair and robes around in great swirls that surrounded her. She wanted to see the water’s silvery ripples in the moonlight, and imagine that Draco was holding her… She shook her head sadly. Harry was right; she had to give up on Draco and Blaise at some point. She couldn’t keep mooning on about them, when they didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

She moved to the window seat and stared at the dark and mysterious world that was outside, just beyond her reach. Ginny rested her forehead against the cold glass and watched as her warm breath condensed on the window, fogging it. They weren’t even allowed to open the windows in the castle, for fear of unwelcome entrances by Death Eaters. As Ginny sat in thought, she felt her frustration and boredom build up inside her. In a split second, she decided that she had had quite enough with these new safety precautions. Without another thought, she reached over and released the window latch. As she slowly opened the window, she reveled at the touch of the cold, harsh wind as it coursed around her. For the first time that week, she felt happy and carefree. The only times she had ever really felt that way was when she was flying. Ginny started, and closed the window quickly. What would happen if she flew out of the window? She would be able to leave the castle and maybe make her way down to the lake.

Her fit of impulsiveness continued as she scampered up the stairs to her dormitory, and slowly crept to her bed. Once she had slipped on her cloak and a pair of shoes, she grabbed her broom and headed back down to the common room. She propped open the window with her elbow while she managed to mount her broom. With a quick movement, she jumped off the ledge and let the window shut behind her.

Ginny flew around for a bit, enjoying the cold bitter scent of the air as she moved. She did all of the daring moves that she had learned from watching her brothers and Harry playing Quidditch. After she had had her fill, she flew to the edge of the lake and landed. She walked around carefully, searching for the exact spot where she and Draco had stood that night. She sat down and drew her knees to her chin as she gazed out to the water.

It was a clear night, unlike that time that she had been there with Draco. The moon was full and outlined beautifully in the black sky. It seemed so close that Ginny could see the dark shadows that dotted it. The water was just as calm as it had been that evening, and the moon and the hills were reflected just as perfectly.

Ginny sighed with contentment; this sight was worth every risk that she had taken. She was surrounded by quiet, for even the trees didn’t rustle loudly in the slight breeze. When Ginny had seen her fill of the lake, she rested her forehead on her knees and closed her eyes. She didn’t know how to describe it, but she almost felt a sense of closure. Even though she had reached the bottom earlier that day, she finally felt confident enough to deal with everything that had happened. She could accept the fact that Gryffindor scorned her. She could deal with being talked about by nearly every wagging tongue in school. She could finally get over Blaise and Draco-

No. She stopped that thought from continuing. She could not let Blaise and Draco go just yet. She needed to ask them why. Why had they used her? She couldn’t believe that they became friends with her to spy on Harry. They knew that Harry had basically rejected her the moment she had become friends with Blaise and Draco. They also didn’t try to take advantage of her sexually. All she had with Blaise were some heated snogs. Draco barely even touched her, and when he did, he simply gave her one-armed hugs or tucked her arm under his. Suddenly, Ginny remembered standing in the shadows near the Great Hall as Draco touched his lips to her neck. She could feel the blood rushing to her face as she blushed hotly. The git hadn’t even kissed her neck; he had only breathed against her skin, but that simple gesture had filled her intensely with desire.

“Those bloody gits still have a hold on me,” Ginny murmured against her knees. Why had they even tried to influence her? Were they just wasting time, playing around with an innocent Gryffindor? Had she been a challenge because she used to be unattainable? Ginny tried to rationalize it all in her mind, but she kept getting more and more confused. The only way she could ever understand it would be if they explained it to her themselves.

Ginny resolutely pushed all of her thoughts aside and cleared her mind. She knew that it would be quite some time until she could sit by the lake again in the still of the night. So, she was determined to enjoy her time out as much as possible.

The hours flew by, for Ginny was not keeping track of time as she relaxed. She checked her watch and discovered that it was nearly three in the morning. She slowly got to her feet and began to mount her broom when she was stopped by a startled, “Ginevra?” Ginny looked around quickly, and saw Draco rushing up to her. As he neared her, she saw that his face was contorted in rage, but his eyes seemed very worried. When he finally caught up to her, he whispered fiercely, “What in bloody hell are you doing out here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Ginny shrugged nonchalantly as she resumed mounting her broom. Before she could kick off the ground, Draco reached out and grabbed her broom handle firmly.

“This place is crawling with Aurors!” he hissed at her. “If they see anyone riding around, they won’t hesitate to curse you first and ask questions later. Come on,” he urged, grabbing her arm, “let’s go back in.”

Ginny struggled against him for a minute. “Let go of me, you… you… Death Eater!” she screamed in a sudden rage. Draco gave her an evil glare, clapped his hand over her mouth, twisted her hands behind her back, and forced her to walk back to the castle with him. She was so stunned by his actions that she nearly dropped her broom, but he grabbed that as well and tucked it under his arm.

“Let’s go,” he hissed murderously. Ginny slumped her shoulders in defeat and allowed him to drag her back to the castle. When they were finally inside the castle, Draco checked to make sure that they hadn’t been detected, before leading her to an isolated alcove. Draco stared at her for a moment, his hand still covering her mouth, and whispered, “I just have one question for you, Ginevra. Why the hell did you run back to Potter?”

He released his hold on her, and Ginny took a deep breath, thankful that she was unharmed. Then, she turned her furious eyes to Draco’s and scornfully said, “You have a question for me? I’m the one who deserves the explanation, you git! Why in bloody hell didn’t you tell me about your rendezvous with Voldemort?”

Draco had the good sense to look a bit sheepish at her accusation. “Blaise didn’t want to scare you,” he mumbled.

“He didn’t want to scare me?” she asked with a sarcastic laugh. “Need I remind you two that I had to deal with Tom Riddle when I was a first-year? I think I’ve learned since then how to handle bad situations.”

Draco merely glared at her and said harshly, “I answered your question, Ginevra. Now it’s your turn to answer mine.”

Ginny lifted her chin haughtily, “What does it matter to you, Malfoy, if I’m friends with Harry? It’s not like you’ve ever cared about my feelings before.”

She immediately regretted saying those words. Draco’s face twisted momentarily into a grimace of pain, and then it was replaced with a sneer. “You’re right, Weasley,” he emphasized. “I never did anything to help you, did I? I was just the typical Slytherin git that I’ve always been. I never knew how to calm you down,” he began to count on his fingers. “I’ve never cared about your safety. I’ve never-”

Ginny interrupted him by lightly pressing her fingers to his mouth. “Enough,” she whispered and dropped her eyes shyly. “I’m sorry. I… I just overreacted by going to Harry.” She turned her eyes back to his, silently pleading for him to understand. But Draco didn’t seem to have heard her words, for his eyes were raking over her body hungrily. Ginny gasped in surprise and began to draw her hand away from his mouth, but Draco grasped her wrist in his hands and twined his fingers with hers.

“I still can’t believe you did it, Gin,” he whispered, his eyes showing betrayal.

She released his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “Then maybe you wouldn’t mind telling me exactly why you were meeting with Voldemort, Malfoy,” she asked imperiously.

Draco looked back at her resignedly and said, “I… I can’t, Ginevra.”

“Oh?” Ginny asked archly. Inside, her heart sank with dread. Was Draco really a Death Eater, or in line to become one? “And why can’t you tell me?”

As though he was reading her mind, Draco replied harshly, “How dare you-” He broke off with a gasp, as though someone was choking him. With a cough, he replied, “I can’t tell you why.”

Her eyes bugged out of her head. “What?” she cried incredulously. “You… you can’t be a Death Eater, Draco!”

He just looked back at her helplessly, remaining silent.

“I can’t bloody believe this,” Ginny mumbled to herself. She took a step back from him, still staring at him. With an accusing tone, she whispered, “So that’s why Blaise didn’t want to tell me that you two were going to Voldemort. And I’ll bet my bloody broom that he’s become one, too.” She looked at Draco questioningly; he just stared back stoically, not uttering a single sound. In fact, she couldn’t even read his real emotions in his gray, murky eyes.

Ginny sighed in defeat, turning to grab her broom and make her way back to the Gryffindor Tower. Before she moved two steps, a firm hand grasped her arm. “Don’t-” Draco began in a weak voice.

She turned back to face him, her eyes blazing in righteous anger. “Get your filthy hands off of me, you traitor!” she hissed as she yanked her arm away. Draco looked at her with sad eyes, but Ginny just huffed indignantly and left.

As Ginny moved through the halls silently, her mind was in a haze. Those bloody… wankers had lied to her. How could she have been so stupid to think that Slytherins could be good in any sense of the word? To top it off, she was in love with one of them, and had snogged the other one regularly! Why the hell did she always fall for the worst guys-

Ginny’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices. She looked around frantically, trying to find a safe place to hide. With a sigh of relief, she spotted a tapestry a meter away from her. She hurried towards it, and quickly hid behind the heavy hanging. As the voices drew nearer, Ginny propped her broom against the wall and stiffened, hoping that she would not make a visible movement. But curiosity got the best of her, so she peered around the side of the tapestry cautiously as the voices became clearer.

“-but is it really safe, Albus?” asked a female, who was unmistakably Professor McGonagall. As the teacher drew nearer, Ginny saw that Dumbledore and Snape had accompanied her. McGonagall’s back was to Ginny, while Dumbledore and Professor Snape stood closely to her left. Ginny almost gasped audibly when Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes rested on hers.

She quickly withdrew her head, but Dumbledore began, “Yes, but we must still be prepared, Minerva. He may try tomorrow; he may not. But, as an esteemed friend of ours always says, ‘constant vigilance is key.’” A light chuckle emanated from all three professors present. Ginny paled slightly when she heard the gruff sound of Professor Snape. Did the man actually know how to laugh?

The subject of Ginny’s thoughts interjected, “Come, let us continue setting up the wards.” She heard the three professors’ whispered banter trail off as they turned a corner and walked away from her hiding place. Ginny sighed with relief when she realized that she would not be punished, even though Dumbledore had seen her.

Ginny nearly flew through the halls in her haste to reach the Gryffindor Tower. She was not going to tempt fate by loitering when Filch and other Aurors were still about. As she hastily whispered the password and climbed through the portrait hole, she suddenly recalled the professors’ conversation. As she climbed into bed, her last conscious thought was, whom had they been talking about?


Note: Major thanks to my beta dracosslytheringal. I know, I know, I keep forgetting that extra "s."

So, what did you guys think? Like the little cliffie?

All right, I have two things to say:

1) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review! I really want to hear what you guys think about the story, even if you're ambivalent about it. I do listen to my reviewers, you know. In the last chapter, one of my reviewers at ff.net asked me to cut down on the cursing, so I tried to do that in this chapter. You guys asked for D/G, and I tried to deliver. So PLEASE tell me what you think!

2) I LOVE FANART (and so do my readers, I'm sure) If you guys are artistic in any way and want to share some of your fanart with me, please do so! I don't even care if it's for other stories - I'd still love to check it out.

3) For responses to reviews/hints about what's coming up, check out my livejournal


Till next time (it might be awhile - I feel a bit drained),
Jawy
09.25.04

there's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
but you'll never see the end of the road
while you're traveling with me
hey now, hey now
don't dream, it's over
- Crowded House

Invasion

The wintry sun shone brightly on the red-haired girl as she read a Potions book. She was safely ensconced in a wide-backed, red-cushioned chair. Her legs were crossed under the heavy tome that lay open before her; the light that shone from a nearby window glittered on faintly golden strands of her hair, and made the pages of the book blindingly white. But Ginny didn’t care about the glaring reflection from the book before her, for her thoughts were elsewhere.

She had woken up a mere hour and a half before and had completely missed breakfast. Her stomach was grumbling in a way that clearly attested to that fact, but Ginny tried to convince herself that there was no need to go down to the kitchens when lunch would be served shortly. The truth was she was afraid that she might bump into Blaise or Draco on her way to the portrait with the pear. She had been plagued all night with her wonderings about those two boys, and she was not sure how she would react if she saw them; thus, Ginny decided to hide and deal with her empty stomach.

To prevent herself from thinking about Blaise and Draco, she let her eyes wander around the room. Her fellow Gryffindors were engaged in various forms of relaxation. In one corner, Ron was playing chess with Harry, while Hermione read and occasionally lifted her head to watch. Dean and Seamus were seated in chairs near the stairs leading to the dorms, in deep conversation with Neville, Colin Creevy, and some second year boys; periodically, they would all break into guffaws of merriment. Near the fire was a gaggle of gossiping girls, who occasionally giggled and stole looks at Harry. On the floor, small groups of first and second years played with Gobstones and dealt out Exploding Snap cards.

Ginny sighed contentedly as she viewed the peaceful scene before her. Even though the school was still under siege and the halls were filled with Aurors, professors, and other officials, this pleasant tableau calmed her greatly. With a faint smile on her lips, she remembered what the weeks had been like before that Quidditch game. Right now, she would have been in the library, working on her homework with Blaise and Draco to keep her company. Her smile widened into a grin as she recalled their petty arguments and the sarcastic banter that they threw at her and each other.

She stopped herself before her thoughts continued in that vein. There was no use in remembering the past and wishing that things were different, when it had all been a farce. She turned her eyes back to her potions text, and continued reading about the same blood-replenishing potion that her father had needed after that infernal snake attacked him last year. She could still remember Harry’s horror when he realized that his dream had actually occurred. She sighed and propped her chin up with one hand, while the other idly played with a corner of a page. She had been terrified when she had seen her father in St. Mungo’s, surrounded by cold, heartless white. That day, she vowed to do everything she could to prevent her from feeling that helplessness again. Yet, here she sat with an empty stomach, because she had no idea what to do when and if she saw Blaise or Draco again. She felt just as vulnerable as she had in St. Mungo’s, and she was doing nothing to stop it.

Frowning at her weakness, Ginny gave up all pretenses of reading and shut the book with a loud snap. She tossed said book to a nearby chair, shifted her body so that she was facing the window next to her, and closed her eyes. The minute her eyes shut, she was deluged with her musings on Draco. She could still envision him in her mind, standing there silently as she berated him for becoming a Death Eater. His impassive countenance and hard eyes were obvious, but as she continued to “look” at him, she was struck by his exhaustion. The Draco in her mind had unmistakably bloodshot eyes; his pale skin was smudged with shadows, making him look aged and world-weary. She continued her perusal of her memory of him, and realized that his hair was unusually disheveled, and his robes were dirty and wrinkled.

Startled by this revelation, Ginny replayed the entire conversation in her mind. She realized that his jaw had been clenched angrily while she questioned him. In fact, a muscle in his cheek had twitched when she accused him of being a Death Eater. He had obviously been impeding a reaction to her words, but why?

Ginny couldn’t deny that she had accused him of being a Death Eater to rile his temper and force him to react. Even if Draco had lied to her and told her that they weren’t Death Eaters, she would have believed him willingly. But he had simply watched her as she jumped to conclusions, never correcting her.

Had she been jumping to conclusions? Ginny remembered that she had not actually come out and asked him if they were Death Eaters. However, she was certain that if she had, she would have still been met with that puzzling silence.

Ginny was also bewildered that Draco had been alone and outside after curfew. She, at least, had had a legitimate excuse for doing so, but he had never explained or gave any indication of what he had been up to. She knew that the place would have been crawling with Aurors and ministry officials, even at that hour of the night. If they had set eyes on him, they wouldn’t have hesitated to, as Draco had said, “curse first and ask questions later.” She smirked at the irony of using Draco’s words to question his own carelessness. Her smile turned to a frown as her thoughts shifted to Blaise; where had he been? She had rarely seen the boys separated from each other; she would have expected Blaise to follow Draco to give him company at least, if not to protect him.

She sighed wistfully as she remembered Blaise’s smile and comfortable demeanor. She missed him more than she had thought possible. It had only been a few days since she had traipsed into the Great Hall on Harry’s arm, but it felt like years since she had felt Blaise’s kiss. She almost smacked herself when she realized that she missed him so much. Hadn’t she been the one who regretted going out with him in the first place? Now, she finally didn’t have to worry about how to tell him that she didn’t love him.

But her longing continued, no matter how hard she tried to stifle it. She truly did miss the way he would hold her hand amiably without dragging her everywhere with him. She longed for the comfort of his arms and the sweet sensuality of his kisses. With a sinking feeling, Ginny wondered if she had a crush on Blaise… or maybe loved him. She knew he was her best friend, and she was perfectly comfortable with spending all of her time with him. But did all of that amount to loving him? And what had happened to her crush on Draco? She still found him very attractive, and she was sure that he felt something for her.

Ginny was startled out of her reverie when she heard a tentative, “Ginny?” and looked up to find Hermione standing before her.

Ginny cleared her throat awkwardly and replied, “Yes?”

Hermione took a deep breath, as though she was steeling herself, and said, “I’d like you to eat lunch with us.”

Ginny had completely lost track of time; sure enough, the common room was practically empty at this point. She sighed inwardly as she thought about Hermione’s offer, because she knew that “us” included Harry and Ron. But, there really wasn’t much to consider, for Ginny had no one else to sit with. Before she was engulfed in another wave of nostalgia, she replied, “All right,” with a brave smile.

Hermione let out a breath of relief; “Come on, then,” she urged, as she beckoned Ginny to get up and follow her. With a heavy feeling of foreboding, Ginny obediently pushed aside the potions textbook and rose. Both girls walked to the portrait hole, where they found Harry and Ron waiting for them impatiently.

When both boys saw Ginny, they gave Hermione pointed looks and frowned; apparently, Hermione hadn’t alerted them of her plans to invite Ginny. To Ginny’s surprise, Hermione frowned back. Silence reigned for a second, before Harry let out a strangled, “Hermione…”

“Harry,” Hermione replied with a long-suffering sigh, “we’re only going to lunch. Besides, let’s enjoy the time we have left in peace.”

“But-” Harry began.

“Oh, come on, Harry,” Ron piped in. “She’s right. Besides, she’s my bloody sister!” He turned giving Ginny a weak smile of encouragement.

“Ron, watch your language,” Hermione warned primly; but Ginny could see the pride in the other girl’s eyes as she gazed at Ron approvingly.

“Fine,” Harry said with a sigh, and exited through the portrait hole. The other three followed suit, and in a few minutes they were on their way to the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron walked side-by-side, ahead of the two girls. “Hermione,” Ginny began in a low voice.

The bushy haired girl turned to her and murmured, “Yes?”

“What did you mean when you said ‘the time we have left’?” Ginny inquired.

Hermione paled and whispered furiously, “It’s nothing, really. Just a way to convince them, is all.”

“Oh,” Ginny murmured, but she was not at all convinced. The rest of the trek to the Great Hall continued in silence, but she began to suspect that the other three knew something she didn’t. She saw that they had their wands out, their heads swiveling in all directions as they peered into dark recesses and shadowy corners as they walked.

By the time all four of them reached the Hall, Ginny felt extremely lonely and excluded. When they entered the room, she was relieved to see that her peers barely noticed her entrance. The Hall was filled with students, as usual, but there was an unusual flurry of activity from the Ministry officials, Aurors, and professors in the place. She caught herself looking towards the Slytherin table for Blaise and Draco, but forced herself to turn away. She somehow managed to squeeze past the people rushing past her and found an empty seat at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione. Directly opposite her was Harry, and next to him was Ron.

As they began piling food onto their plates, Ron inquired, “What do you think all of these officials are here for?” Ginny glanced up to look at Ron, and was startled to see him smiling at her uncertainly. She grinned back shyly and shrugged her shoulders.

He then turned his eyes to Hermione, as Ginny turned her attention to the Staff Table. To her surprise, she saw that the teachers were only stopping by the table to eat a few bites; then, they were flitting around the room, traveling from group to group of Ministry employees. She smiled when she saw Hagrid discussing something very seriously with an Auror in the far corner of the room.

But where was Dumbledore? She looked to the Staff Table again, and found Snape glaring at a man who was talking earnestly with Dumbledore. The Potions Master’s trademark scowl was fiercer than ever, so that he reminded Ginny of a bristling cat. Ginny’s eyes traveled to Dumbledore – she was saddened by what she saw. The Headmaster seemed older than ever; his twinkling blue eyes were duller, his long, white beard a bit scraggly and his robes wrinkled. She also saw that he had a plate full of food in front of him, yet he hadn’t eaten a single thing on it. This whole deal with Hogsmeade had taken its toll on him.

“-again, tonight’s the dance, so they’re probably setting up security or something,” Hermione interrupted Ginny’s thought.

Ginny’s eyebrows furrowed at that concept, and before she could stop herself, she asked, “Would it really require this much effort for security? I mean, they only have to stick Aurors in every corner, and put a few of them at the entrance.”

Ron grinned at her statement as he chewed his food; even Harry looked at her with an appreciative glance. Hermione swallowed and replied, “You’re right; it does seem a bit nonsensical. Fudge is probably getting paranoid, is all.”

“It’s about bloody time,” Harry replied with a grimace. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny nodded in agreement, before turning their attentions back to their food.

The rest of the meal was punctuated with simple comments and jokes. Once they had finished, Ginny followed the other three out of the Hall and towards the Gryffindor common room. She was puzzled when she saw that they drew out their wands again and treaded cautiously before they reached the portrait. Once she was safely within the tower, Ginny murmured that she wanted to take a nap, and headed off to her room. She immediately fell into an exhausted slumber without bothering to change her clothes.

A few hours later, she was awakened by muffled giggles. With a stifled curse, she cracked an eye open and looked for the fool that dared to wake her. She heard another giggle, and saw her other three roommates standing by the big mirror at one end of the room. They were modeling skirts and dress robes with each other, trying to decide on which one to wear.

Ginny closed her eyes again and groaned out loud; she had nearly forgotten about the dance tonight. After some more grumbling, she finally stood up slowly, yawning and stretching the entire time. She grabbed a towel, mentally cursed the fact that she was female, and trudged towards the bathroom.

After she was finished, she went straight to the trunk at the foot of her bed and half-heartedly searched for something appropriate to wear. Soon, she was clad in her knickers, an old, yellowing slip, and a dark green dragon shirt that was once the property of an eleven-year-old Charlie Weasley. All of her meager clothing was on her bed, and she rapidly sifted through them, looking for a nearly new skirt. She had almost lost her wits in frustration when she heard a tentative knock and the click of the knob as the door slowly opened. She and the rest of her roommates nearly shrieked out that they were half-dressed, but they sighed with relief when Hermione poked her head into the room.

“Ginny?” she asked faintly.

“Yes?” Ginny replied as she made her way to the door.

The other girl looked relieved when Ginny reached the door, and immediately grabbed her arm. “Come on,” she insisted as she dragged Ginny out of her room.

Ginny spluttered, “Hermione! I’m barely dressed!”

The other girl threw her a glance over her shoulder then replied flippantly, “Well, everything’s covered, so you’re dressed.”

“I’m not even wearing a bra,” Ginny moaned in embarrassment. But nothing seemed to deter the bushy haired demon in front of her. Ginny snorted derisively when she noticed that Hermione was fully clad in her school uniform; leave it to her to actually be dressed!

To Ginny’s chagrin, she soon realized that they were plummeting down the stairs to the common room. She felt her face go red as the other people in the room turned to look at her in surprise. But Ginny soon forgot about them when she saw Professor McGonagall at the portrait hole, surrounded by Harry, Ron, and the other Gryffindors who were at the DA meeting. Ginny started slowing down in apprehension, but Hermione just gripped her tighter and kept going.

When they finally reached the group at the entrance, Hermione began, “Professor McGonagall!” She paused to catch her breath, choking out, “Now we’re all here.”

Harry looked at both of them quizzically and demanded, “Why is she here?”

Instead of answering, the now calmer Hermione turned to Ginny and said conversationally, “Tell me, Ginny. Do you still remember the spells we practiced in the DA last year?”

“Yes,” Ginny answered without hesitation, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Then I think she has every right to be here,” Hermione said with a triumphant grin as she looked at Harry.

He immediately scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but McGonagall beat him to it. “Very well then, Miss Granger,” she said in a low voice. The professor looked at each of the students gathered around her and began, “I must impress on each of you the potential danger that all of us are in. Even though there are many Aurors and ministry officials here, we are still vulnerable to an attack from Hogsmeade,” she paused, everyone around her gasping. “If there is one,” she added hastily. “Of course, we have not had any indication that it will happen for sure. I simply ask that all of you keep your wits about you tonight, and be prepared lest you’re needed.” Silence met her in response; satisfied by their reactions, she finished, “All right then, off you go.”

The small group of students began to scatter, however Ginny was still stunned by what she had heard. So this was what Hermione had meant when she mentioned “the time we have left.” She shivered involuntarily and moved mechanically to the staircase leading to the dormitories, her mind in a whirlwind from what she had just heard.

Before she could go any further, there was a loud banging against the entrance. Ginny swiveled around quickly, the astonishment on her face mirrored on those of the students around her. McGonagall, who had been chatting seriously with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, turned to the portrait hole and opened it cautiously.

The person on the other side of the door pushed it open forcefully. Ginny caught sight of purple hair and a pale face, and nearly cried out, “Tonks!” with pleasure.

But the words died on her lips when Tonks yelled, “They’re in the castle!”

Got comments? Then please leave one!

Mucho gracias to my beta, dracosslytheringal. I loff you to death, my dear!

I had a lot of trouble getting the inspiration to complete this chapter. The entire week after I posted Chapter 14, I was just too drained to think about this story. Then, I got reviews from The Lovely Lioness here at D&G.com and MelissaSadwick at FA, and just like that, Chapter 15 came pouring out. Thank you, Lioness and MSadwick, for unknowingly spurring me on. See, this is why reviewing is good!

Responses to reviews from last chapter can be found here.

A cookie for the next chapter can be found here.

WARNING: Character death and bloodshed rampant in this scene.
I tried to keep it as PG-13 as possible, but I know I'm pushing the limit.


there's nothing left, but to turn and face you
when I look into your eyes, there's nothing there to see
nothing but my own mistakes staring back at me
asking why
- Linkin Park, feat. Stephen Richards

Loyalties

For a moment, no one in the Gryffindor common room made a sound. Then they all broke into a cacophony of tears, squeals, and shouted commands. Ginny stood at the foot of the stairs, shocked beyond words.

“Everyone, stay calm!” Professor McGonagall roared over them. The room quieted instantly and the students turned their attentions to the professor respectfully. She huffed a bit, trying to catch her breath, then continued, “Potter, Weasley, Granger, as well as the rest of the group that was here – follow me. The rest of you,” she glared at those in the common room, “tell the other students that the dance has been cancelled and stay here. I will be locking the common room from the outside. House elves will be by soon to see to your food. Remember, do not open the windows or even look out of them. And don’t try to floo anyone from the fireplace; they have all been disconnected from the Network. Stay together, and keep your wands at the ready.” With a pause, she continued, “Now go on!”

Ginny came out of her trance-like state with a snap, and immediately realized that she needed her wand and some warmer, less-revealing clothing. She scampered up the stairs to her dormitory, ignoring the curious stares of her roommates, and immediately rummaged about the clothes on her bed. She found her wand almost immediately, but for some odd reason, she had trouble finding a skirt.

She finally seized a skirt and was about to throw it on when Hermione pushed the dormitory door open with a crash. Ginny’s roommates squealed with fright, as Ginny herself froze. But Hermione ignored the other girls, raced over to Ginny, and started dragging her to the door. “We’ve got to go, Ginny!” the bushy-haired girl cried.

Ginny wanted to scream in frustration, but she couldn’t really fault Hermione for her haste. “At least let me grab some shoes!” Ginny whined as she tried to slow Hermione to a stop. The older girl stopped with a huff, and tapped her foot impatiently as Ginny stuck her feet into her school shoes. Once they were on, Hermione grabbed her arm again and yanked her out the door.

With a defeated sigh, Ginny followed obediently. They ran down the stairs and reached the portrait hole, only to find Harry and Ron waiting for them impatiently. This time, Harry decided to vocalize his disapproval. “Why the bloody hell did you drag her along?” he asked Hermione impatiently.

“We need her with us,” Hermione said simply as she glared back at him.

“Hermione,” Ron began with a placating tone, “you know that she can’t come. She wasn’t involved in-”

“And why the bloody hell not?” Ginny interrupted furiously. “We’ve already established that I know all the spells that every one of the other DA members know.”

Ron turned to her, his face growing red with anger. “And what the fuck am I supposed to tell Mum when she hears that her only daughter wants to fight?”

“Besides,” Harry pointed out, “how do we know that we can trust you?”

“Harry James Potter,” Ginny spat out as she stalked up to him, so that her nose was mere centimeters away from his. “I am a Gryffindor. Although I’m female, I am still a Weasley. That means that I am related to Ron, your best friend!” She poked his chest with a finger to emphasize her point. “If you can’t trust me, then who the fuck can you trust?”

“Are the four of you quite finished?” McGonagall asked imperiously from the portrait hole. Her nose was wrinkled with distaste; obviously, she disapproved of their language.

“Yes, Professor!” Hermione responded with a grim smile. She turned to Harry and Ginny, who were still staring at each other, and muttered, “I’m vouching for her, Harry. If she’s a spy, then you can have my head.”

Harry and Ginny broke their gazes, turning their eyes to Hermione. Harry looked at her incredulously, while Ginny’s eyes held relief and gratefulness. “Mine too,” Ron interrupted as he gently nudged Harry and Ginny to the entrance. “Now, can we get a bloody move on?”

Ginny turned her eyes to Harry’s, and found him looking at her speculatively. “All right, then,” he sighed. His emerald eyes instantly hardened, and he gripped Ginny’s shoulders and shook her slightly. “Just don’t make me regret this,” he hissed at her. With a warning look, he let her go and made his way out of the common room.

She stared at his back in a daze, but was startled out of her thoughts as Ron touched her shoulder and grinned faintly before following Harry. Ginny was about to follow him when Hermione caught her arm and whispered in her ear, “Us girls need to stick together.” Ginny looked at her in amazement, but Hermione just smiled encouragingly.

Once she had exited the common room, Ginny found the rest of the DA waiting anxiously. She detected a few smirks and girlish giggles at her attire, but she didn’t pay much attention to them. Instead, her focus landed on Harry, who was whispering something with McGonagall and holding a sword. She did a double take when she realized that he was handling Godric Gryffindor’s sword, the same one that he had used against the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. As though he could sense her thoughts on him, he turned away from McGonagall and turned his attention to testing his grip on the sword. Now that she could see his face, she was shocked to see that he was exuding an air of confidence, and grim determination; his eyes seemed tired, but they also held a maturity and responsibility that she had never seen in him before.

Ginny was brought out of her musings when she caught the words, “… fighting for our lives.” She brought her head up swiftly and looked at McGonagall, who had paused. Ginny felt guilty about daydreaming, for she realized that she had missed most of what the professor had said. McGonagall continued, “So please, keep your wits about you. We will not encounter many obstacles, for we have Aurors on hand to take the brunt of the fight. Do you have any last minute questions?” When no one said anything in response, she nodded and finished, “Well then, let’s go.”

Ginny was still digesting these words when she sensed Hermione beside her. “Let’s follow Harry and Ron,” she whispered as she tugged Ginny along. Ginny complied, and soon found herself face-to-face with her brother.

Ron reached over to ruffle her hair and teased, “Stay by us, all right? I don’t need Mum on my back if something happens.”

“I will. You be careful,” Ginny whispered hoarsely. Ron gave her a strained smile and nodded before turning away. Ginny knew that the exchange had seemed incongruous in the face of the upcoming battle. But she also knew that teasing was the closest that Ron would come to saying “I love you.” In a way, she was glad that he hadn’t actually spoken those words aloud; surviving the battle felt like a distinct possibility because it was left unsaid. After all, Ron would someday say “I love you,” to her; if he didn’t say it now, that simply meant that he would later.

En masse, they treaded through the hallways softly, cautious of ambushes. As Ginny followed, with Hermione right beside her, the seriousness of the situation finally slipped through the numbness that had surrounded her thus far. She was going off to battle in nothing more than a faded green shirt, a slip, and untied shoes. She laughed inwardly at the absurdity of her outfit; although she had never really cared about her appearance, this situation seemed to merit it. Since she didn’t have fight-worthy clothing, the only useful things she was equipped with were her wits and her wand. As she walked silently behind Ron, she hoped those were enough to keep her alive.

They reached the changing staircases and went down the flights. Before she knew it, Ginny found herself on the third floor. “Hermione,” Ginny hissed while furrowing her brow with confusion. “Why-”

It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask Hermione why they were on the third floor, but she stopped when she heard screams and curses being shouted from down the corridor. The students around her stood still and listened to the fighting in terrified silence. Ginny could have sworn that she heard Neville gulp audibly. McGonagall looked at each of them; “Remember what you’ve learned and practiced,” she whispered. Her eyes softened with remorse and she murmured, “If only you children could have been spared this…” She shook herself as her expression became as hard as steel. “Right then,” she nodded at Harry. “Let’s go.”

Ginny felt the blood draining from her face as fearful anticipation sent adrenaline down her spine. She and Hermione followed Ron and Harry, while the other students followed behind. When they turned the corner, Ginny’s eyes widened with shock at the scene before her.

The sun was setting outside, casting faint shafts of light through the narrow castle windows. The sconces on the wall were flickering, for they were magically attuned to the amount of sunlight reaching the hallway. But it seemed as though none of that light touched on the people in the hallway, for most of them wore black robes and silver masks. These figures of death stalked around the hallway almost leisurely, casting curses left and right as they went. They had a reason to be leisurely, because they were fighting a motley band of Aurors and ministry officials. Ginny watched the defenders of Hogwarts as they swiftly moved and hexed; their actions were so much more erratic than those of their opponents. Although they fought courageously, their actions did nothing to slow the steady stream of Death Eaters.

Ginny craned her neck a bit, and saw red sparks glinting off of Dumbledore’s silver beard in the waning sunlight. He nimbly moved through the fray, flinging out spells with simple flicks of his wand. Although she had often shaken her head at his amusing oddities, Ginny knew she was catching a glimpse of the real man behind the wizarding robes and venerable title of “Greatest Wizard in the World.” Even at her distance, she saw his eyes burning like two, pale blue flames behind his half-moon spectacles. His movements were controlled and forceful in every way. As Aurors fell to the ground, jerking in reaction to their grievous injuries, he smoothly stepped in as their avenger.

When her mind registered the casualties of the people surrounding her, the sounds of the battle rushed at her with the intensity of a bludger. She forced her hands to her sides when she heard high-pitched screams and shouts that ranged from deep growls to squeaks. Strangely enough, the floor that she was standing on was rumbling, as though a giant had decided to take apart the very foundation of the castle, stone by stone. Ginny gripped Hermione’s arm for support, and gave the other girl a panicked look. “What’s that shaking?” Ginny rasped.

Hermione was not paying attention to her; instead her gaze was still on the battle. Ginny watched the girl that she had always considered too perfect to be true. Hermione was the bookworm, the “sister” of Harry and Ron, and Ron’s girlfriend. She was one of the most recognized and respected female Muggleborns in the school, and a prefect for the past year and a half. Yet, the girl who stood by Ginny’s side was no longer the girl who deserved all of those accolades; she was now a world-weary woman who was facing certain death. The shadows beneath her eyes were more pronounced than ever, while her mouth was curved into a resigned frown. The bright red of her tie and uniform were garish against the pallor of her skin. Ginny looked down to where her hand was grasping Hermione’s arm. The other girl’s hand held the wand in a strong but loose grip, betraying the number of times that she had been forced to use it. Ginny looked up at her face when Hermione whispered, “Look. They’ve arrived.” Ginny barely caught those words, for she was too busy admiring the woman that Hermione had become.

Hermione’s words finally pushed insistently at her, and Ginny turned her eyes back to the fighting before her. A row of student-sized figures in black stood on the other side of the hallway, watching the battle. Unlike their older counterparts, these younger ones were unmasked. Their faces clearly showed their apprehension and suppressed excitement; they were the “junior Death Eaters” that Blaise had told her about. They had finally reached the point of no return; the battle lines had been drawn, and sides had been taken.

Riding on the heels of these musings were thoughts of Blaise and Draco. Ginny’s apprehension sank into horror when she realized that she would have to face them both. In fact, she would be forced to fight for her life against them. Gone were Blaise’s sweet kisses and Draco’s harmless comments and smirks. She would never again have the luxury of a best friend like Blaise.

Ginny wanted to cry out with anguish and regret. She had been steeling herself against them the entire week, but this moment had forced her to acknowledge the side they had chosen. However, Ginny’s brain still refused to accept this. She stood on her tiptoes, craning her neck to find visible proof that Blaise and Draco would be joining the Death Eaters. Ginny was almost sure that she had placed Draco’s platinum hair, when her view was blocked by a Death Eater.

Startled at the interruption, she landed on her heels, allowing her eyes to focus on the entire scene again. Her eyes widened with confusion when she realized that the room seemed to be darker than it had been before. The sun had practically left, but the dark cloaks of the attackers now absorbed the golden light of the torches. In fact, the Death Eater’s numbers had swelled, effectively outnumbering the Ministry officials and Aurors. “Where are they coming from?” Ginny gasped with a horrified look.

Harry whipped around and stared at her, his green eyes fearsome as they bored into hers. “They know about the entrance.” Ginny stared back at him, her confusion still obvious. “Remember? The entrance that I told you about?”

Ginny opened her mouth to voice her confusion, but let out a croaking sound when she finally remembered. She had told Blaise and Draco about the tunnel to Hogsmeade through the one-eyed witch’s hump when he had needed information on Harry. And now that they had become Death Eaters… Ginny shut her mouth with a loud snap and turned her eyes back to the fighting. Sure enough, Death Eaters were squeezing out of the statue of the one-eyed witch. “Merlin!” she exclaimed softly. Ginny looked back at Harry and whispered pleadingly, “I’m so sorry, Harry. I didn’t think-”

“Well, that’s obvious,” he hissed back sarcastically. He turned back to the fighting; his blazing green eyes dulled from an accusing glare to one of resigned acceptance, similar to Hermione’s. For the first time, Ginny noticed that his shoulders were slumped dejectedly, and his back was curved as though he was carrying a heavy burden on his soul. Suddenly, he straightened his back and thrust his sword straight up into the air. Time slowed for Ginny, and she noticed how the flickering light in the hall hollowed his cheekbones and gleamed against his glasses and hair. She was not sure if it was the light playing tricks on her eyes or the adrenaline rushing through his veins, but she saw his pale face surged with a flush. In all, the vision he created was one of power, formidable strength, and danger.

Ginny was startled out of her thoughts as he cried, “Follow me!” With a downward sweep of his sword arm, Ginny and the other students followed obediently. She grimaced when she realized the depth of his statement. They had all unconsciously deferred to him for the past four or five years. Now, they were intentionally following him into battle, even unto death.

As they neared the fighters, Ginny noticed that the students on the other side of the hall were also joining in the fight. In between the moving fighters, her eyes finally discerned Blaise and Draco. Their faces were stoic and emotionless; Blaise had a faint frown on his pursed lips, but his eyes were as cold as ice. Neither boy saw her; instead, their gazes were trained before them as they swiftly charged into the clash.

Once again, time slowed down for Ginny. She could feel various emotions crashing through her body, like waves against a shore. In a matter of seconds, which felt like hours, she felt hurt, betrayal, love, longing, and hatred flood her; the emotions were so strong that she wanted to fall to her knees and sob from the agony. Blaise and Draco had played with her emotions and lured her into a false sense of security. They had gleaned important information from her, allowing her to feel as though she was the trickster, when she was actually the hapless tricked fool. Now, she would have to face them in battle. Would they be heartless enough to kill her? Could she find the strength to hurt them? Ginny swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat, and attempted to concentrate on following Ron.

Instead, she stumbled and fell, managing to land on her hands without smashing her face into the cold, stone floor. She had closed her eyes when she fell, and her hands nearly slipped from beneath her when she was met with the awful stench of copper-scented blood and burning flesh. Her eyes immediately popped open, and she cried out in horror when she realized that she was kneeling in a puddle of blood. She tilted her face up form the floor, and nearly retched when she saw the lifeless body of Professor Flitwick lying before her. The short man was still clothed in his traditional robes, with small shoes pointing up in the air. His eyes were wide open with shock; one side of his face was nearly burnt off, explaining the overwhelming burnt scent.

Her daze-like state continued when she looked down at her hands and wand, which were in the puddle of blood oozing from the Professors wounds. Rage and helplessness built up inside her, and she steeled herself mentally while tensing her arms to support her. In that instant, all of her Gryffindor bravery and courage became a cold, hard knot in her stomach. Her mind was filled with the red of the blood pooling at her hands and knees, enveloping her wand, and coursing through her veins. With a frown of determination, she grabbed her wand. Time finally caught up with her as she jerked herself to her feet.

“Are you all right, Ginny?” Hermione asked with tired concern. She rested her hand on Ginny’s shoulder, but Ginny stood unflinchingly still. She was watching the battle going on around her with calculating eyes.

Whatever Hermione saw in Ginny’s posture at that moment seemed to meet her approval, for Hermione gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. She leaned in towards Ginny and muttered, “They’ve been using cutting and burning hexes for torture, before finishing them off with the Killing Curse.” She looped her arm around Ginny’s and nudged her. “We’ve got to help Harry. Come on.”

Ginny obediently followed with her wand firmly in her grasp. She automatically sidestepped the blood and amputated limbs, keeping her eye on Harry and Ron. Hermione was a warm presence beside her, but Ginny was numb to all else that happened around her. That changed when a Death Eater cut off her path.

Ginny and Hermione halted before the Death Eater in surprise. Ginny glared at the Death Eater, sizing them up. The Death Eater had broad shoulders and its stance was too masculine for it to be a female. She peered at the eyes behind his silver mask, and was startled to find that they were a light blue. The blue reminded her of the lake at Hogwarts, and she felt a surge of longing. Yet, they also reminded her of the color of Blaise’s eyes. When Ginny remembered Blaise, rage boiled within her. She immediately whipped her wand towards the Death Eater and screamed, “STUPEFY!”

The Death Eater crumpled to the grimy floor. Dazedly, Ginny heard Hermione cry out an unfamiliar spell, and saw that his hands and feel were magically bound. She looked at the older girl, who was still latched to her arm, and grimaced. “Us girls need to stick together,” Ginny intoned seriously. Hermione merely gave her a quick nod, and tugged her forward.

Every Death Eater that crossed Ginny and Hermione’s path after that initial confrontation met the same fate. Ginny’s rage was simmering below the surface after she had stupefied her fifth Death Eater. Hermione made no comment about Ginny’s behavior; she continued to cast the binding spell with a cool tone, even though her arm was still entwined with Ginny’s.

Ginny was surprised when she recognized most of the Aurors and Ministry officials that were fighting the Death Eaters. Apparently, everyone at the battle was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and had graced the meetings at 12 Grimmauld Place at one time or another. She saw Remus Lupin bring down a Death Eater with long black hair; judging from the rage in his features, Ginny knew in a heartbeat that he had finally gotten his revenge for Sirius’s death.

She also saw the bubblegum-pink hair of Tonks, and recognized Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, and Professor Snape. As she stupefied her seventh victim, Ginny was startled to find herself next to her brother George. “George!” she cried out over the din, and threw herself into his arms.

Brother and sister held each other close for a moment, but finally broke away. “Mum would kill you if she saw you here,” he laughed while he ruffled her hair.

“Well, she might not have to do it,” she replied grimly. After an uncomfortable pause, Ginny inquired, “Are Mum and Dad here?”

“Yeah-” he broke off when he heard Hermione scream out, “STUPEFY!” at a Death Eater that was just about to attack George. “Blimey, Hermione,” he called out with admiration, “remind me to never make you mad!”

Hermione shot him a terse smile before returning to her self-appointed task of protecting Ginny and George. Ginny looked at George and asked, “What about Charlie and Bill?”

“Yeah,” George replied. “Charlie’s outside with the dragons, and Bill is here somewhere.” His face grew thoughtful as he continued, “Me and Fred came together, but I can’t bloody find him.” He looked at Ginny anxiously before asking, “Have you seen him?”

Ginny shook her head. George gave her a worried smile and hugged her tightly. “Well,” he replied, “you take care of yourself, you hear?”

“You too,” Ginny replied firmly before she broke away and joined Hermione again.

“Ahh, you’re back,” Hermione grinned when she found Ginny next to her. “We’ve got to find Harry and Ron.”

“Right,” Ginny replied firmly. Linking their arms together, the girls continued their foray into the fighting, searching for Ron and Harry. Finally, they caught sight of the bright red mop that was Ron’s hair. As they slowly made their way towards him, Ginny saw in periodic glances that he had his wand pointed at two wizards in black cloaks. Both wizards seemed wandless. In between her hexes and Stupefys, Ginny tried to discern who those wizards were.

All she could see was their hair, which glinted richly in the flickering light of the hallway. One had dark hair, while the other’s was so blonde that it seemed white. Ginny realized whom Ron had at wand-point, and felt the blood drain from her face.

“Hermione!” Ginny cried out as she dragged the other girl with her. “He’s got Draco and Blaise!”

Apparently, Hermione hadn’t heard Ginny over the noise of the fight, so she was startled when Ginny began dragging her by the arm. Hermione stopped and pulled back reflexively. “Where are you going?” she yelled.

Ginny felt Hermione tugging on her arm, but she pushed the other girl away forcefully. All of her attention was focused on Ron, Draco, and Blaise. She could see that Ron and Blaise were yelling at each other, while Draco stood to the side and watched silently. From where she was standing, Ginny saw that the back of Ron’s neck was turning red; she knew that was a bad sign, for it indicated that he was mad enough to do something rash.

She began pushing past the people around her, occasionally stupefying some Death Eaters. All the while, her ears strained towards Ron and Blaise’s argument. As she neared them, Ginny could hear their shouting but couldn’t distinguish the words. She eventually got close enough to hear two dreaded words from Ron’s lips.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

“NO!” Ginny cried out desperately as she struggled to make her way to Ron. She was within earshot, causing both Ron and Draco turned their eyes towards her.

Ginny soon reached a gap in the crowd of people that was free from fighting, and stood still, taking in the scene before her. Blaise was crumpled on the ground, while Draco looked murderous and Ron apprehensive. She was so surprised at seeing Blaise’s body on the floor that she blurted out the first thing on the tip of her tongue. “That was an Unforgivable, Ron! You’ll go to Azkaban!”

Ron looked sheepish, but his eyes still burned with rage. He opened his mouth to answer her, when she detected movement from the corner of her eyes. She turned her gaze towards the disturbance, and found herself eye-to-eye with Draco. She was horrified at the emotions running across his face. She saw hate, anger, betrayal, and sadness in his eyes. She opened her mouth to taunt him, but snapped it shut when she saw him whip out a wand from his sleeve.

Ginny felt as though cotton had been shoved into her ears, muting all of the sounds that surrounded her. In slow motion, she saw Draco point the wand straight at her and mouth the same words that Ron had uttered. She saw Ron lunge at Draco to wrestle his wand away, but it was too late. A green shaft of light was heading towards her.

Resigned to her fate, Ginny realized that she still loved Draco, no matter how he had betrayed her trust. She stared at his eyes, trying to convey her feelings of love and betrayal in that one, last glance. As the light neared her, she shut her eyes and braced herself. She heard the curse as it came closer, and felt something heavy fall against the back of her knees. Her legs buckled from the impact, and she pitched forward. She hit the stone floor with her forehead, and knew no more.

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Note: Much love to my betas: dracosslytheringal, dracosbeauty927, and esus. Thanks to Myunet for pointing out the faulty html tag.

The line, "Us girls need to stick together," is taken from Catherine Zeta-Jones's line in the movie The Phantom.

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where once was light, now darkness falls
where once was love, love is no more
don’t say goodbye
don’t say I didn’t try
- Howard Shore,
feat. Emiliana Torrini

Aftermath, Pt. 1:
Death

She was weightless and trapped in a thick and inky darkness. She peered into the abyss before her, hoping to discover some clue as to where she was. When she realized that her search was futile, she tried to lift her hand before her and feel her way around. With a sinking feeling, she discovered that she could not move her arm; in fact, she didn’t feel any parts of her body at all. On the heels of this discovery was extreme shock and terror. She could feel a scream tearing its way though her flesh.

She opened her mouth to release it; suddenly, the complete blackness had yellowish and red tinges around the edges. In slow succession, she felt her toes, hands, and nose; gradually, she sensed the blood coursing steadily through her veins, and the steady, calming beat of her heart. As she tried to process the changes overwhelming her, she heard a tenor voice to her left. She concentrated, and the words finally filtered through her muddled brain.

“So? Tell me what happened!” a man demanded. Ginny could see her memories rushing out into the forefront of her mind, as though in answer to his question.

The flash of angry red, against the pale blonde and dark brown startled her.

"- a sword? You-Know-Who could be defeated by a bloody sword?” the same man asked incredulously.

She pushed past a familiar blond man, barely paying any attention to her surroundings. She eventually found a relatively clear spot in the crowded hallway.

“Twasn’t easy, you know,” a gruff, older male voice replied. Something in his intonations struck Ginny as familiar, but she couldn’t stop her thoughts long enough to recognize him.

She saw the red-head’s wand lift to point at the brown-haired boy’s chest, and heard his strange words.

“I saw the lad defeat him with me own two eyes, and he had a rough time at it,” the older voice continued.

In horrified silence, she saw the green flash of light, and the boy crumpled to the ground…

“But it was a sword, Moody!” the tenor male scoffed. “Why didn’t anyone think to use it before?”

The mention of the other person’s name was enough to snap Ginny out of her dream-like trance and focus on the reality around her. As she slowly gathered her wits, she heard Moody answer testily, “Need I remind you that Potter is the only one who has ever survived the Killing Curse? Anyone else would have been killed before they could say, ‘Constant Vigilance’!”

The other man snorted and said dryly, “Well, of course they would have! That’s a right mouthful to say, I’ll have you know.”

“Enough,” Moody replied in a fair imitation of Snape at his moodiest. “We’re disturbing the patients.” She heard some shuffling of feet, and Moody’s voice was farther away when he continued, “It’s a pity about that lass over there. I hear that one of her brothers killed her beau, while the other...”

Those words forced Ginny to pry her eyes open. Moody had been talking about her and what happened to Ron and Blaise... So, that meant that Harry had actually killed Voldemort. She felt a momentary surge of relief and joy before she remembered why she had been so sad earlier. Although she was alive and well, Blaise was dead.

Ginny stared at the ceiling above her, ignoring everything that was going on around her and focusing on stopping the tears that had welled up in her eyes. However, she was too exhausted to exert any actual control over her emotions. As the first tear drop trickled down her cheek, it released more memories of the boy she had considered her best friend for a brief while.

Blaise’s worried frown and tight grip forced her to stop in the train corridor… “I think you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met…” he told her. “I mean it!” He was looking at her hopefully, and she could feel the last vestiges of her anger seep from her…

She sat on the grass beneath a tree at the edge of the lake with Draco and Blaise, both a few feet away from her, throwing playful insults at each other. Blaise turned to her and laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and his dark hair glinting in the sunlight…

He was grabbing her shoulders, but she barely registered the pain. Instead, her world was focused on those same blue eyes, as they stared down at her. She saw the various emotions flickering behind them, but she was clueless as to what was causing them… Finally, he began whispering, “Ginevra… I’m going to be doing things that you won’t like and won’t expect from me… Just remember, no matter what I do or say… love you, Ginevra.” His eyes pleaded with her, begging her to understand…

Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized the significance of that last memory, her mind whirling with its implications. Blaise had been warning her about what he was about to do! At the time, she had merely thought he would do something stupid like getting himself killed. Not only had he done that, but he had betrayed her friendship and trust as well.

Ginny let out a whoosh of air, unaware that she had even been holding her breath. She struggled to steady her pounding heart and regulate her breathing. In an effort to calm down, Ginny slowly propped herself up on one elbow and took a quick survey of the room. As her body relaxed, she was surprised to see that all of the beds were filled. Most of the patients were students, as their grey uniforms betrayed. Adults reclined peacefully on the other beds, staring at the ceiling in deep thought or conversing in low murmurs with other adults, seated in wooden chairs next to their beds. Just as Ginny was craning her neck to see if any one from her family was nearby, Madame Pomfrey bustled to her side, clucking her tongue like a mother hen. “Miss Weasley, it’s good to see you awake,” she said briskly. Reaching to the bedside table, Pomfrey picked up a glass containing an olive-green potion, and continued sternly, “Now then, drink up.”

Ginny’s recent realization hit her again with the force of the Whomping Willow, causing her to croak out, “Blaise-”

“Now, now, dear,” Pomfrey replied in a lower voice. “You’ll need some sleep before you’re up and about again. Come now,” she wheedled as she tipped up Ginny’s chin and began pouring the potion down her throat. Once Ginny had finished it, Pomfrey helped her settle down again and tucked the sheets around her. Ginny heard a faint “Sleep well, dear,” and then succumbed to the potion-induced dreamless sleep awaiting her.

When she awoke again, Ginny had no trouble adjusting her eyes to the faint candlelight around her. Night had evidently fallen on Hogwarts, and the Hospital Wing was now deserted. Ginny looked about her, puzzled by the silence. There was only one other person occupying a bed that night. Where had everyone else gone? Had her family been by to see her? Why was she left here without anyone waiting by her bedside? She recalled the last time she had seen the pristine white of the Hospital Wing; then, both Blaise and Draco had been waiting by her side. Draco’s concern and worry had been so flattering, and Blaise’s quiet confidence brought a smile to her face even now. But Blaise was dead and Draco...

Ginny sat there, finally allowing herself to think of Draco. Why had he tried to kill her during the battle? She had loved him for the past months; in fact, there were times where she was almost sure that he had returned her feelings. What had changed in the span of a few days that had caused him to hate her so much? Ginny could feel her heart wrenching in pain as she dropped her head into her hands and began to cry. Feelings of rejection and despair washed over her as she sobbed; she knew that Draco would face a trial of some sort for her attempted murder. She would have to testify that he had done so, and then he would be sent straight to Azkaban.

The tears fell harder as she realized that she had lost her best friend and her first real love forever.

With a stab of loneliness and hurt, Ginny wondered where her family was right when she needed them. She searched her bedside table for a sign that someone had been by to visit her; yet, all she found was a goblet of potion.

After a few minutes, Ginny’s tears quieted into fierce indignation. No one cared about her, that much was clear; but, she wanted to know why. What in Merlin’s name was so damn important that no one had the chance to see her? Ginny propelled herself out of her bed, determined to find answers to her questions. She was startled to find her shoes by the side of the bed; looking down at herself, she grinned ruefully when she realized that she was still clad in her old shirt and slip. Slipping her feet into her shoes, she slowly padded her way towards the occupied bed. As she neared the patient, she spied familiar brown hair and work-worn hands. When she reached his side, she realized with a shock that she was staring at her former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin.

He was sleeping peacefully, but his face indicated that he was anything but. The wrinkles and worry lines in his features seemed harsher in the moonlight. She saw the smudges under his eyes and the shallow, wheezy breaths that he struggled to take. Ginny was startled when she saw sweat on his brow and reached out her hand to brush a few strands of hair from his face. Suddenly, clouds shifted in the sky outside, allowing the full moon to completely illuminate the room. Ginny immediately shrank away from Lupin in fright, remembering that he was a werewolf. To her relief, he didn’t change into a monster before her eyes. He merely coughed weakly and twitched uncomfortably, before turning over on his side and settling down once again.

Ginny was confused by his reaction; to ensure her sanity, she glanced at the window to confirm the presence of the full moon. Why hadn’t he changed tonight? Had he been cured of it? Ginny shook her head inwardly, knowing that no one had ever been able to cure lycanthropy. While she continued to mull over this, her eyes dropped back down to Lupin. His back was facing her, and she saw an enormous diagonal cut stretching from his left shoulder to the right side of his waist. She watched in horrified fascination as a drop of blood trickled from the lower edge of the angry wound and quietly sank into the white bedding beneath him. Following it was another drop of blood; this time, the blood glinted white in the moonlight before it joined its predecessor.

Slowly creeping back to the bed, Ginny crouched down and peered at the two drops of blood, trying her best to keep her nose from bumping into Lupin. The two drops of blood on the bed were mixing before her very eyes; she held her breath in anticipation as their color changed from a murky pink to a completely grayish white, almost the same color as the bed itself. A distant memory from third year told Ginny that this grayish spot was probably silver. She moved away from the bed and stood back up, assessing the situation.

Clearly, Remus Lupin, a werewolf, had been attacked with silver. Now, he lay on the bed before her, wasting away. In fact, he was so far gone that he didn’t have the energy to become a werewolf tonigh. Instead of being horrified by his imminent death, Ginny merely felt pity and remorse. In her mind, and in the minds of many of her fellow schoolmates, Lupin was an easy-going professor, never as cold as Snape or as imperious as McGonagall. Despite his affliction, he had been an admirable teacher, a wonderful listener, and a good man.

As Ginny contemplated the seriousness of Lupin’s situation, she wondered just who had done this to him. Had he been taken by surprise, she wondered bitterly, or had someone betrayed his confidence? Ginny sighed and shook her head, knowing that it was pointless to keep reminding herself of Blaise and Draco. Yet, deep within her heart, she knew that she would never recover from the way that they had used her. Never again would she allow someone to have the opportunity to treat her like a puppet.

She straightened her back and squared her shoulders in defiance, suddenly remembering her purpose in getting out of bed; she had many questions, and she demanded answers. As Ginny stomped away from Lupin’s bedside, she wondered why she had been left here with a known werewolf. What if he had been strong enough to change tonight? She would have been dead in her sleep, and no one else would have been the wiser. Ginny’s blood began to boil with fury.

She reached the doorway to Madame Pomfrey’s private quarters, only to find it shut with light snores from the other side. The realization that she was the only conscious person in the huge hospital wing sobered her anger and sent goose bumps along her arm. Suddenly feeling very foolish, Ginny turned swiftly; she was about to make a mad dash for her bed when she saw something odd before her.

Right beside the main doorway that led out of the infirmary was another door. Ginny could have sworn that she had never seen it before; she slowly inched her way towards it, and was startled to find that the temperature had dropped noticeably. Warily, she continued to tiptoe her way closer and noticed that a strange blue glow was emanating from the cracks between the doorframe and the actual door. Her insistent curiosity forced her to lightly touch the doorknob and twist it.

She hadn’t expected it to open so readily to her touch, so she found herself sprawling forward into the room as the door opened before her. When she finally gained her bearings, she looked up and was shocked numb by the extreme cold and what she saw.

The walls were covered in a dull blue glow and the room itself was completely devoid of furniture. Along the floor, in neat rows, lay sheet-covered bodies. Each body was shrouded in the same clinically precise way; the entire body was covered in white except for the left foot. Peering at the body closest to the door, Ginny noticed that the big toe had a tag attached to it.

Ginny stared out at the sea of white before her, wrapping her arms around her to ward off the chill and horror. The room was so cold that she could see her breath puffing out before her face. She mentally counted a total of twenty in that room. Only twenty people had died in the second most significant battle of the century, yet that small number included someone very dear to her. Was Blaise somewhere in this room?

Steeling herself against nausea, Ginny stepped closer to the nearest body and looked down at the tag attached to its foot. It read:

Name: Fletcher, Mundungus
Age: 34
Wand: birch w/ 1 unicorn hair, 7 inches, bendy
Affiliation: MoM, Hogwarts, Other

Ginny frowned at the name, recalling a conversation at 12 Grimmauld Place about stolen cauldrons. She smiled a little when she remembered how hard Fred and George had been laughing. Shaking her head clear, she sobered again and lowered her eyes respectfully. He had been an Order member, even if he was an unsavory character, so he deserved some sort of mourning.

After a moment, Ginny anxiously looked around at the bodies around her, still wondering if Blaise was there somewhere. She methodically moved along the first row towards the other end of the room, reading the names as she went.

Dolohov, Antonin. His tag also had “Other” indicated in the affiliation category. Ginny smirked at the irony of the situation. Even with Voldemort finally dead and gone, whoever had created these tags still refused to admit that there were Death Eaters involved in that battle. She continued to walk on with this knowledge.

Doge, Elphias – Other.

Corner, Michael – Hogwarts.

Ginny stopped in surprise when she saw her ex-boyfriend’s name. The summer and her past year had been so hectic that she had forgotten about him since they had separated. She was a little ashamed of her ignorance, but she had never seriously loved him... like she loves – no, loved – Draco; after all, it wasn’t possible for Ginny to love a boy after he tried to kill her. After another moment of silence, she sidestepped Michael’s body and looked at the next row.

Flitwick, Filius – Hogwarts.

Goyle, Gregory, Jr – Hogwarts.

Goyle, Gregory, Sr – Other.

Lestrange, Bellatrix – Other.

Delighted by her discovery that the rows were alphabetical from left to right, she hurried on to the next rows.

Lestrange, Rabastan – Other.

Longbottom, Neville – Hogwarts.

Lovegood, Luna – Hogwarts.

Ginny stumbled in shock when she saw their names. Two of the five that had accompanied Harry to the Department of Mysteries last year were dead. She had never given them a second thought during the past few months, but she suddenly remembered Neville’s clumsiness and Luna’s flighty ways with affection. Both students, so odd in their own ways, were so similar when their courage and acumen were really needed. With sudden nostalgia, Ginny longed to see Luna walking about with her wand behind her ear, face buried in an upside-down Quibbler. She would have also given anything at that moment to see Neville chasing after his toad Trevor, knocking things over as he ran.

After mentally bidding them goodbye, she took an unsteady breath and continued her search. Now, she was absolutely determined to find Blaise.

Malfoy, Lucius – MoM.

Parkinson, Pansy – Hogwarts.

Pettigrew, Peter – Other.

Sprout, Pomona – Hogwarts.

Vance, Emmeline – MoM.

Weas-

Ginny felt as though she had been struck with the Jelly-Legs Jinx. She dropped to her knees unceremoniously, not heeding the sharp sting and biting cold that seeped throughout her in response. Instead, her attention was riveted to the tag on the toe before her:

Name: Weasley, Fred
Age: 18
Wand: Alder, dragon heartstring, 10 1/8 inches, bendy
Affiliation: MoM, Hogwarts, Other

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Note: Much love to my betas dracosslytheringal, dracosbeauty927, and esus. Beautiful, BEAUTIFUL women, those three.

As the title indicated, this chapter is one of two or three that flow together. In other words, these two or three chapters should be ONE chapter, but I think you guys would have killed me if I waited any longer to write out the rest of it.

Hopefully, you guys went to that link that I put at the beginning of the chapter BEFORE you read the chapter. If you didn't, then please do.

In this chapter, I took a lot of liberty with wands. Of course, I don't know what kind of wands Fred and Mundungus had. The wood types I borrowed from JKR's list of Celtic wand list (the one she used only for the trio in canon). I made Mundungus's birthday Jan. 16, 1964 - so, he's 34. According to JKR's site, Fred is two years older than Ron, so he's 18, and he was born on April Fool's Day. The wand cores I found in the HP Lexicon. All other wand features were from my imagination.

The next two chapter are already planned out. Now that I have loads of time on my hands, I'll get to typing them up as soon as I can. I certainly hope you guys liked this chapter, even though it took forever. Please review!

if you returned to me
I would be happy once again
but today you are gone
and there is no turning back
- Josh Groban,
roughly translated from Spanish

Aftermath, Pt. 2:
Mourning

Ginny clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling the small scream that escaped from her lips. She reread the tag over and over again, thinking that her mind was playing tricks on her. Yet, no matter how long she stared at the words, they refused to change. Her brother, Fred Weasley, was dead.

Her legs had gone numb from the cold, but the only feelings her mind registered were muddled mixtures of anger and grief. She couldn’t believe the letters and numbers from the tag, which were forcing their way into her consciousness. She could have sworn that she had seen Fred laughing and pulling pranks just a second before. Yet here he lay, like a flame that had been snuffed out and could never be lit again.

After a few moments of stunned blankness, she identified her first conscious thought: why, of all of her brothers, did Fred have to die? She wouldn’t have minded seeing Percy’s foot and nametag before her; after all, he was the one who defected from the Weasleys and betrayed them all by allying himself with Fudge and the Ministry. The only betrayal that Fred had ever committed centered on (mostly) harmless pranks. Fred had a strong sense of loyalty and family, and never even considered turning his back on his parents and siblings.

Yet, the Fates had decided to twist the knife that was already firmly embedded in her side. Her fun-loving, mischievous, loud, and quite obnoxious brother, one half of the duo that was Gred and Feorge, had been taken from her. Tears poured down Ginny’s face as memories of Fred flashed before her eyes. She remembered watching Ron cry when Fred had turned his pillow into a spider, laughing at his outrageous pranks, storming at him indignantly when those pranks turned on her, and laughing through her tears when he promised to send her a toilet seat from Hogwarts. It was last year that he and George had escaped from that toad Umbridge’s power at Hogwarts, yet she could recall the stink from their swamp as clearly as if she had smelled it yesterday.

As each memory passed through her mind, she realized that she had missed countless opportunities to tell him that she loved him. All of those times that she had interacted with him, they had known subconsciously that they loved each other; after all, she and Fred were siblings, which meant that they shared blood and a certain intuition about each other’s feelings. Yet, after Percy had left them all, the entire family had had to work on strengthening that unspoken bond between all of them. Even then, the importance of expressing her feelings had never crossed her mind. Granted, her brothers would have been bloody uncomfortable to hear “I love you,” or “I care about you,” but they would have treasured the memory, even as she would have.

Ginny knew that there was only so much that one could say in actions; sometimes, the words themselves needed to be expressed. She knew that she had forever missed that opportunity to tell Fred. She hung her head guiltily when she remembered that the last time she had seen him, she had been chasing him around the Burrow, threatening to hex him if he didn’t return her hairbrush. Had he remembered that before he died? Did he leave his life, thinking that she hadn’t loved him? She could only hope that her actions had been loving enough, and hadn’t fallen woefully short of the truth.

Her thoughts immediately turned to her family members. She hadn’t told any of them, even her mum, that she loved them. Was it too late for them as well? After a quick glance around, Ginny sighed with relief when she saw that no other Weasleys were on the floor. Thinking of her family brought up an important fact; Fred had always been inseparable from his best friend and twin, George. Ginny blanched when she thought of how distraught George must be without his brother. Had anyone told him about Fred’s death? She certainly hoped that he had not been left to suffer unknowingly, much like she had.

Ginny frowned a bit as she remembered that she had been left alone. Was anyone even thinking about her at that moment? Did anyone care that she had opened this door and discovered the cruel death toll on her own? Or was her family attempting to shield her, once again? Ginny once again fervently hoped that no one was shielding George from news of Fred’s death. She could still recall the concern in his eyes during the battle when he had asked her about Fred’s whereabouts...

Her frown turned thoughtful as her eyes glazed over when she realized that Fred’s death had been indirectly foreshadowed by that incident, just as Blaise’s death had been predicted by his own words. Ginny wanted to smack herself for not noticing that importance sooner. Twice, events had indicated the future, yet she had naively refrained from reading between the lines. For a moment, Ginny wondered if this realization would boost her grades in Divination. She quickly pushed that inane thought out of her head and refocused on the body of her deceased brother.

The sight of the tag instantly sobered her, and her musings returned to Fred. Since she had never had the chance to tell him how much she loved him, she decided to finally pay her respects to him. She opened her mouth, trying to articulate how she felt… but found that she couldn’t. She was such a jumble of fear, anger, sorrow, and guilt that she wasn’t quite sure where to begin. Nor did she know how to continue from that beginning, and where to end. After much struggling for the right words, Ginny simply said, “I love you, Fred. I miss you… so much,” she ended with a sob. She bowed her head in grief, longing for her brother once again. Unable to continue, she slowly stood up before she became a blubbering mess, and mentally bid him a final farewell.

She stared at his sheet-covered body for a moment, steeling herself for the rest of this last row of bodies. She still had to find Blaise, for she hadn’t told him how she felt about him, either. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she sidestepped to the next body. Her mouth fell open in shock when she recognized the name on the body’s nametag. She quickly moved to the last two bodies, her eyes widening when she read those tags, as well. Blinking in surprise, she crouched before the body in the middle, staring off into space as she comprehended what she had just read:

Name: Zabini, Anthony
Age: 49
Wand: Oak w/ dragon heartstring, 11 ¾ inches, rigid
Affiliation: MoM, Hogwarts, Other

Name: Zabini, Blaise
Age: 16
Wand: Oak w/ dragon heartstring, 11 inches, pliable
Affiliation: MoM, Hogwarts, Other

Name: Zabini, Victoria
Age: 44
Wand: Birch w/ unicorn tail hair, 10 ¼ inches, swishy
Affiliation: MoM, Hogwarts, Other

Ginny knew that since the other two shared Blaise’s last name, they were both related to him. But what was the nature of that relation? She idly tapped a finger against her cheek, searching her mind for vague names mentioned in the society pages of the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. Finally, a completely different memory surfaced in her mind.

It had been another October evening; after dinner, she, Blaise, and Draco had adjourned to their customary classroom discussions. Blaise was currently amusing himself by playing with her hair, while she and Draco intently discussed their childhoods.

“Honestly, Ginevra,” Draco drawled, “I don’t know how you survived all these years with six brothers. I’d never give up being an only child for anything in the world.”

Ginny earnestly replied, “Well, it wasn’t that awful. I got quite accustomed being the baby of the family... until now.”

Behind her, Blaise’s hand had ceased touching her hair. “I would have given anything to have lived in your family,” he stated quietly, his breath stirring a few of her hairs. Both Draco and Ginny were shocked into silence by this comment.

“Blaise,” Draco scoffed from the other side of the room, “you can’t possibly-”

“I mean it,” he coldly cut him off. Surprised at his tone, Ginny twisted around in her seat and looked at him questioning. He met her gaze boldly and unrepentantly, his eyes almost black in the shadows. “You don’t know what it’s like to live in my family,” he explained. His eyes lightened to their familiar blue as he stared off into space and continued, “I’m the last of the Zabinis, not including my mother and father, of course. All my life, I’ve been expected to live and act in ways that would honor my ancestors. Never mind the current society that we live in, which encourages me to define my own wants and needs. I was only allowed to be a Zabini...”

Her expression changed into one of sympathy and understanding as she turned her eyes back to the bodies before her. The names on the tags that lay on either side of Blaise’s body must belong to his parents. So, despite their efforts to keep the Zabini name blemish-free and living, their family line had finally ended.

Ginny sat back on her haunches, and wondered what it would be like to be the only one left of her family. Could she survive each day, knowing that she would never see her brothers’ smirks, her father’s avid curiosity, and her mother’s face contorted in motherly concern? What would it have been like for Blaise to know that he were the last of his line? Generations after him would look at his deeds and judge him for them, never caring about the person he was or the circumstances that he lived in. The memory of his ancestors would forever be dishonored if he did something stupid; however, they would be remembered fondly if he managed to make a success of himself. In the mean time, there he was, torn between the past and future, never getting the chance to enjoy the present… and his own life.

Astonished by the terrible life Blaise must have led, Ginny turned her eyes back to his shrouded body with newfound respect. She would have run away instead of remaining and making do with her lot in life. She couldn’t imagine the amount of strength and confidence it would have required living in those circumstances. Yet… that very same life required him to become a Death Eater, and he hadn’t been strong enough to refute that call. Ginny had once thought him a coward for becoming one, but here she was, admiring him for his strength and resolution in doing it!

Her brows furrowed in confusion, for she was not at all sure of how she was supposed to feel about Blaise. She hated him for betraying her friendship and trust, yet admired him for his strength and courage. On the heels of that admiration were remnants of her love for him. Overwhelmed by her emotions, Ginny let loose her frustration in the only way imaginable; she buried her face in her hands and cried. She cried for every moment she had loved him, and every second that she had hated him. As the tears fell, she felt like she had barely known him. If only she could have taken a closer look at him and understood him better, instead of jumping at the chance to hurt him. If only she had found a way to use that knowledge to help him escape his fate as a Death Eater. If only…

She sniffed a little as her tears dried in streaks down her cheeks. Somehow, she doubted that she would have ever been able to change his mind. Even after a few months as his friend, Ginny knew that Blaise was stubborn to the point of arrogance. Once he decided on a course of action, he never wavered from it because he never thought his choice was wrong. No matter what Ginny would have tried, she knew that she would have had no luck in convincing him of the error of his ways.

Yet, knowing all of that about him, she had chosen to ignore the fact that he was a Slytherin and eventual Death Eater. She had conveniently overlooked his name, his house, his family, and his life, focusing instead on the fact that he had noticed her. After all, that was what Ginny had always wanted: to be noticed. She had always wanted to be heard, to have her opinion respected and taken into consideration, to have her say in the world around her. When she had seen Blaise on the train that fateful September day, she had finally found someone who cared enough to listen to her. Blinded by that fact, she had forgotten who he was and had decided to forget her own house, family, and friends, for him… and Draco.

Ginny dropped her head in shame when she thought of Draco. He must have been in the same predicament as Blaise had been. Both of them had come from rich, pureblooded families, and they were both only children. Draco was also the sole Malfoy heir, and he must have faced the same expectations that Blaise had. Instead of considering his lifestyle, she had simply walked away from him and Blaise.

Thinking back on the past few weeks, Ginny wondered if maybe she had been right in avoiding him and Blaise after that meeting with Voldemort. Merlin only knew what those two would have been capable of if they believed becoming Death Eaters was their duty to their families.

All of this doubt and questioning confused Ginny again; at this point, she was floundering in her sea of emotions, wondering just how she could make sense of all of this. The confusion she felt about Draco was further complicated by the fact she had been in love with him. Had he even felt an eighth of how she felt for him? Was he thinking of her when he decided to follow Voldemort? Or had she been as meaningless as a flubberworm, only a nuisance yet not worth any of his concern? For that matter, had Blaise thought about her when he made that same decision?

Rage seeped into the muddle of emotions and flowed through her. Both of them had obviously never thought about her or what she would think of their fates in life. They never thought to wonder if she would understand them or immediately hate them. Of course, she reasoned with herself, she had immediately hated them. But that was merely a reaction to this gross miscommunication between them! She wouldn’t have gone straight to Harry if she knew that there was a logical reason behind their decision.

Shaking her head, Ginny stared at Blaise’s nametag miserably. All of this knowledge was meaningless, now that Blaise was dead. Merlin knew it soothed some of her hurt, but what was the point in soothing the hurt when she couldn’t tell him that she loved him? What good did understanding after the fact do, when it should have happened much earlier? With a sinking heart, Ginny knew that she had been an idiot this entire time for not trying to find the reasons behind Blaise and Draco’s defection.

She mulled over the word “defection” for a moment, remembering that she had used that same word to describe Percy’s betrayal of her family. If there was a reason for Blaise’s defection, was there also a reason for Percy’s? Ginny snapped out of her trance-like state immediately, berating herself for thinking that there was something good left in that git brother of hers.

Turning her attention back to Blaise, she tried to say something to him like she had done for Fred. Once again, she found herself speechless. One part of her just wanted to leave and figuratively “lick her wounds” elsewhere, while blaming Blaise and Draco for the mess that they had made. Yet, another, more sensible part of her mind rooted her feet to the floor, forcing her to acknowledge her own fault in their ruined friendship. Helpless to her own conscience, Ginny searched her mind for words to express what she felt.

Finally, she sighed deeply and whispered, “What happened to us, Blaise?” Well, she obviously knew the answer to that question, so she tried again. “Why did you do it?” No, she now knew the answer to that question, as well. With some reluctance, she finally bit out, “Where did I go wrong in this mess?”

There. She had finally admitted her own guilt in this situation; immediately after saying it, Ginny was amazed at how clearer her emotions seemed. Boosted by her admittance, she tentatively continued, “Why didn’t you tell me why you did it? I would have understood, Blaise,” she nearly pleaded with the figure before her, acting as though he were still alive. “I would have helped you find a way out. You didn’t have to do all of this for your family. In fact,” she changed her tone to a lighter one, “I think the future Zabinis would have respected you for breaking apart from your supposed duty to your family, and doing what you thought was right.” She paused and murmured, “Of course, that’s only if you really did feel that Voldemort was wrong…”

Realizing that she was opening a Pandora’s box of questions, Ginny shook her mind to clear it, and changed tactics. “Now,” she said sorrowfully, “there won’t be any future Zabinis. Generations from now, people will only remember you as a Hogwarts student who was tragically lost during this battle. Right now,” she continued earnestly, “the only thing separating you from the other bodies lying here on the floor is your name and…” she paused as she looked at his nametag again, “your wand.”

She shook her head sadly and continued, “I wish I could know if you really thought it was worth it. Was it worth dying for your obligations to your family, Blaise? Was it worth losing the right to follow your own heart, only to end up on this cold floor? Did you think it was worthwhile to hurt me,” she bit out the last word with a choked tone, “to do your duty? Was I really worth nothing to you?” she finished in a full sob.

Tears escaped her eyes as she closed them. After a few moments, she realized that her tears wouldn’t stop; she rose to her feet and shakily whispered, “I wish you had trusted me more.” With one last, longing look, she quickly turned and blindly found her way past the bodies to the door. Sparing a final glance at the room, which was now a blue and white blur through her tears, Ginny finally stepped outside and shut the door behind her.

The soft click from the door’s bolt echoed through the quiet infirmary. Ginny’s tearful expression quickly turned to one of apprehension when she saw a nearby clock; she had spent nearly an hour in a cold room, surrounded by lifeless bodies. Horrified by being surrounded by death, she tiptoed her way to the infirmary door, hoping to calm her nerves with some fresh air. Just as she reached out to twist the knob, she heard heavy footsteps approaching the door from the other side.

Instinct overruled her mind as Ginny immediately scampered to her bed, kicked off her shoes and dove under the sheets, feigning sleep. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she heard the infirmary door slowly creak open; heavy steps echoed through the room as the person entered and made their way to the beds. Ginny was tense with anticipation, hoping that they were here to see her. However, the unknown person stopped near the vicinity of the closest bed to the door, which was certainly not hers.

Ginny was a little disappointed by this, but curiosity got the best of her when she heard a grunt and shuffling robes. Quieting her thoughts, she focused on listening to whatever this mysterious person was doing in the room. Her careful ears picked up the faint sound of bedsprings creaking as something was laid on the bed that this person had stopped at. The same heavy steps echoed again as the person moved to the doorway leading to Madame Pomfrey’s private chamber; she heard her or him knock once on the door, then open it on their own. There was a soft rustle of robes, and then the door was shut from within Pomfrey’s chambers.

Noticing that the room was silent again, Ginny cautiously opened her eyes and slowly sat up, hoping to catch a glimpse of what had been dropped on the bed. Before her eyes adjusted to the lighting of the room, she heard running feet approaching the infirmary door from the outside hallway. She immediately dropped flat on her bed and resumed acting as though she was asleep. The footsteps soon reached the open door of the infirmary, and Ginny was surprised to distinguish two sets of footsteps. One consisted mostly of rusting robes; the other was a stalking gait with sure steps. Just as she finished processing this information, the stalking gait faltered by the bed that was nearest to the door.

“Potter?” someone asked.

Ginny’s eyes flew open in shock, but she immediately closed them and willed her breathing to slow down. She recognized that voice, all right; it belonged to Draco Malfoy.

She forgot about listening to the newer occupants of the room as her mind teemed with questions. Why was he in the infirmary, instead of at Azkaban, where the other Death Eaters probably were? Was he hurt? Had something happened to someone she knew? Before Ginny moved on to realizing the name Draco had said, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a woman’s loud gasp.

Ginny’s mind immediately returned to the other people who were in the infirmary with her. Ginny had heard that gasp loads of times in this very room; Madame Pomfrey must be there.

“Headmaster, Mr. Malfoy,” said a gravelly, deep voice, which Ginny knew belonged to Professor Snape. Before she could even wonder what he was doing there, he continued in a quietly amazed tone, almost as though he were talking to himself, “I never thought I’d live to see this day.”

What day? Ginny longed to cry out, but she held her tongue and waited breathlessly.

She didn’t have to wait for long. “The Boy-Who-Lived,” he paused for effect, “is now dead.”

Yet another cliffie! Please review!

Note: I love my betas: dracosslytheringal, dracosbeauty927, and esus. Big cheer for them!

Re: last chapter's link. Some people were able to see it, while others weren't. I'm sorry if you didn't, but if you're reading this, chances are that you already read Chpt. 17. Well, that link was to my website, which explained how Ginny wasn't dead and that the fic will last about 20-30 chapters in total. If you want the actual text, email me and I'll send it to you.

I'm sorry if some things seem a bit too... mournful, I suppose. My grandmother died on New Years Day, and I just had to use this chapter as a way to express my own feelings.

Blaise's parents are the same ages mine were when I was 16 or 17. The woods for the wands are from JKR's list of Celtic woods that she used for Harry, Hermione, and Ron's wands. The other attributes of the wands are of my own imagination. Also, the underlined words after the "Affiliation:" part is basically what was circled on the tag. If that confused you, tell me in a review. Maybe I'll find time to make up a pic of what I think the tag would look like.

So, who do you think killed Harry? Have any other questions? Please leave a review! I'm still a review whore, ya know...

By the way, here's a little tidbit for you: next chapter is tentatively titled "Draco's Detour." Yes, it's a play on the actual chapter title by JKR, but it fits the situation.

my hands are tied
my body bruised, she's got me with
nothing to win and
nothing left to lose
and you give yourself away
- U2

Draco’s Detour

This time, Ginny really had to force herself to keep quiet. Her mind was teeming with so many questions that she momentarily forgot where she was. Voldemort had been defeated, so Harry had evidently killed him. But why had they only discovered Harry’s death now. Had he been alive before? Clenching her eyes shut and gritting her teeth, she forced herself to keep quiet. She wouldn’t be able to hear the rest of the conversation if she allowed herself to get swept away by her emotions once again.

“How?” Pomfrey cried out, pain evident in her strained voice.

There was a momentary pause, then Dumbledore replied, “There is only one person who could have done this... Severus?” he asked gently, as though indicating that Snape knew of whom Dumbledore was referring to.

Ginny heard another rustle of robes, then Snape dutifully murmured, “Yes, Headmaster. I fear it is he who has done this. I will search for him immediately, but in the meantime, I suggest that Mr. Malfoy here is sent somewhere safe. There’s no telling how the Daily Prophet will render his presence at the discovery of Potter’s body...”

“But Professor-” Draco interjected.

“No, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore gently insisted. “Professor Snape is correct in his assumptions. We must get you to a place of safety as soon as possible.”

Silence permeated the room, then Draco replied resignedly, “And my mother?” He paused, and Ginny lay there, wondering what looks were being exchanged at that moment. Draco suddenly blurted out, “Surely you’re not going forbid her from coming here! She’s been dying to see him...”

The care and sympathy in Dumbledore’s voice was evident when he interrupted, “I know, Draco. But it is much too dangerous for her to be here.” Ginny was momentarily startled when Dumbledore called him by his first name. She’d only heard him refer to Harry or one of the teachers in that way.

Before she could muse further, Draco was now shouting, “Don’t you have wards on this damn castle? She loves him!”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Snape barked, clearly indignant at Draco’s language.

Before a fight started between the two Slytherins, Dumbledore interjected, “She knows of the danger she is in. She knew it all along, Draco. While your intentions are admirable, they are also pointless.”

Draco sounded nearly deflated with defeat when he muttered quickly, “Fine. Then will you let me stay here for a moment? I still haven’t said good-bye.” His initial indignation dissolved into a choked sob at the last word.

“Certainly,” Dumbledore replied. “But I must ask that you finish quickly. Time is of the essence now.”

“Right. I’ll only need fifteen minutes, sir.”

“Very well. Poppy, my dear, please see to Harry. In the meantime, perhaps you would join me, Severus…”

Snape cleared his throat uncomfortably and began, “I desire a quick word with Mr. Malfoy, Headmaster. I shall join you outside momentarily.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore repeated; from the lilt of his tone, Ginny was certain that his blue eyes were twinkling once again.

The room was filled with the sounds of sweeping robes, quiet footsteps, and light murmuring. Ginny had lost all sense of perspective, what with her shock at hearing about Harry’s death. Hence her great surprise when she heard Snape in close proximity of her bed, murmuring, “Your mother is completely unaware of his condition?”

“Yes,” Draco muttered back. “She deserves to know. Professor, please…”

“I’ll do what I can,” Snape replied vaguely. “In the meantime, what do you plan on doing right now?”

Draco snorted and drawled sarcastically, “Well, I’ve certainly lost all off my usefulness.” He sobered quickly and muttered, “There’s no reason for me to exist, is there? Mother’s going to be heartbroken for the rest of her life, I can’t torment Potter any longer, I’ve lost the only true friends I’ve ever had, and now I have to go into hiding to save my sorry ass. I’m more than tempted to throw myself at the next Death Eater I see.”

There was a rustling of robes, and Ginny could imagine Snape placing a reassuring hand on Draco’s shoulder as he answered, “I’m surprised by your melodramatic tendencies, Draco. No wonder you were able to play your part so well.”

Draco merely snorted in reply. Snape sighed and continued, “You know that our sorry excuses for Aurors will need all the help they can get to find the Dark Lord’s remaining followers, don’t you?” There was silence, but Draco must have nodded because Snape persisted, “You could help them, Draco. Only you and I have valuable information. I’ve transferred all of my memories to a pensieve and let the Ministry look inside. Perhaps you should do the same?” More silence, and Snape cajoled, “It would ease your pain, Draco.”

“That’s just it, Uncle,” Draco spat out, “There’s nothing to ‘ease.’ I’m completely hollow inside.” Ginny could well imagine the pain that he was going through – the shock of her own discoveries had left her completely numb to all that went on around her. In fact, she was still struggling to realize the gravity of the situation at hand.

A long pause followed Draco’s outburst, and Snape said quietly, “It will help you, Draco. I cannot make up your mind for you, but if you happen to change it… you know where to find me.” With that, Snape left in a swish of robes and determined steps.

Ginny thought that Draco had left with him, for her ears only discerned Pomfrey’s pattering feet and the sounds of rustling sheets from near the entrance. She was just about to open her eyes and finally contemplate all that she had heard when she heard Draco sigh. She nearly jumped out of her bed, startled that he was still there. Thankfully, he didn’t notice her precarious situation, for his retreating footsteps indicated that he was walking towards… the opposite side of the infirmary.

Curious at his actions, Ginny calmed herself again and listened hard. She was surprised to hear him say out loud, almost to himself, “I’ll tell her. I’m sure she wishes she were here, but she can’t – you know how it is.” He paused and whispered, “It was a pleasure. She’ll miss you.”

Ginny was utterly confused at his words. The only other person in the infirmary was Remus Lupin. Draco couldn’t be talking to him; after all, as he’d say himself, what would he want with a werewolf?

Even as she mulled over this mystery, she heard his footsteps cross over the room again, towards her bed. Ginny unconsciously stiffened at his approach; when she realized her unnatural reaction, she tried her best to relax her body and feign sleep once again.

Apparently, her ruse worked, because when Draco reached her side, he immediately muttered under his breath, “Merlin help me, I was friends with a Weasley.”

Ginny arm twitched reflexively at that statement and her breath hitched in indignation; she instantly stilled herself, horror coursing through her veins. Did he know that she was aware of what he was saying? Using all the willpower left in her, she forced her body to stay perfectly still and carefully regulated her breathing. If he knew she was awake, Ginny was sure that Draco would just sneer at her, spit out a few insults, and leave. Her only chance of finding out any sort of truth from him depended on this moment, and she did not want to ruin the opportunity.

But when he paused a long time after that statement, Ginny was almost certain that she was caught. Oh, what she would have given to see his eyes at this moment! That had always been the most expressive part of him, and she was sure that she would know if she was caught if she could just look at him. But, of course, there would be no chance of hearing anything if she suddenly popped her eyes open.

The lull continued, and Ginny finally gave up all hope of trying to eavesdrop on his inner thoughts. After all, how could she hear what he thought when he didn’t verbalize it? From the long silence, she surmised that he was mentally saying good-bye.

Since there was no need for her to listen to him carefully, she turned her thoughts inward. She couldn’t believe that he had described her as a friend. After the way you used me, Malfoy, she was dying to tell him, I feel no more loved than a whore.

Although her sentiments seemed a bit overdramatic, she really did feel that way. As she continued to think about the past few months, she wasn’t even quite sure that they had a friendship, or any sort of relationship. Ginny knew that she had always made sure to include him in everything she did with Blaise, even after they had begun dating. She knew that she still harbored feelings for him, even though she hated herself for falling for someone who obviously didn’t care about her. As she lay there, she remembered his courtesy when they had first met, and how he would regale her with stories from his childhood. Yet, through all of the anecdotes and rare moments of vulnerability, Draco had still been aloof. It was hard to see it during the times that Ginny had spoken with him, but his reticence was still there in the background; she had initially brushed it off as another one of those inexplicable traits that made him a Malfoy, but now she could see that he was hiding his true self the entire time.

To her chagrin, Ginny realized that she had ignored his silence because she had liked it. She had always hated how boring and predictable her family and friends were. The Weasleys all had red hair, were all happy, and all agreed on the same things. Ginny had always thought that she would follow the role that her parents and family had practically assigned for her when she was born. But all of that had changed when Voldemort had possessed her in her first year. Suddenly, she was no longer another Weasley; there was now a darker side to her that no one else in her family had. While her parents and brothers had chosen to overlook the incident and move on with their lives, Ginny knew that she been forever changed that year.

Since then, she had never been able to comfortably fit that role assigned to her; she grew restless carrying the identity that she was burdened with. When she had become friends with Blaise and Draco, she was enthralled by the fact that she never really knew what was going on behind their eyes. All of the people that she had been around her entire life were so open and forthcoming with their feelings; Blaise and Draco were neither of those, so she had been intrigued from the very first time she met them. They also never obligated her to follow any set path. Frankly, if Ginny hadn’t been used and hurt by them, she would be thanking both of them for setting her ablaze again, after all the years she had spent like a guttering candle in the dark.

Ginny’s thoughts were interrupted when Draco whispered, “I hate saying it, Weasley, but I’ll miss you. You changed Blaise and I so much... I don’t think you’re even aware of what you’ve done.” His tone was accusatory, as though blaming her for disrupting years of tradition.

“There’s still so much I don’t understand about what happened. Why did you leave us, right when we needed you the most?”

Because you were using me, you bastard! Ginny wanted to sit up and scream out loud. Instead, she was so happy that she was finally getting a look at the inner workings of his mind that she forced herself to stay still. Apparently, her ruse was still working – he obviously thought she was still asleep.

“What the bloody hell caused you to run straight to Potter?” he continued, still oblivious to her mental reactions. “After all that time you spent with us, you ran straight back to the person that had never cared about you. Merlin, we cared. Blaise was fucking arse over elbow for you, and I- Well, I was just the best friend and bystander, I suppose.” His voice turned glum and reflective.

Another long pause followed the statement, and Ginny was left to contemplate what he had just said. So Blaise really had been in love with her. Yet, if he had cared so much, why did he use her the way he did? He and Draco had been honest enough at the beginning, claiming that they were only pretending to be spies. Even if they had been open with her and told her that they were meeting Voldemort that night, she would have understood and attributed the meeting to their role. Instead, they never felt the need to inform her of the true nature of their meeting, leaving her with so many questions and doubts. Now, from what Draco said, Ginny was beginning to wonder if any of her assumptions were correct.

“Honestly, Ginevra,” Draco broke into her reverie unexpectedly, “everyone thought that we were playing you the entire time, but I wonder if you were the one playing us.”

Ginny mentally dropped her jaw in shock. What in Merlin’s name are you blabbering about?

“Hmm, that would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?” Draco mused to himself grimly. “I should have known that you’d never love Blaise after that horrific crush you had on Potter.”

Ginny was still confused by what he meant, yet he persisted with his accusation. “Tell me,” he asked rhetorically, gritting his teeth, “are you satisfied that you finally got Perfect Potter while you could? Does it make you all bloody warm inside to know that you twisted my best mate’s emotions, and mine as well, just so you could catch his attention?”

No! Ginny was dying to open her eyes and tell him. I’d never do that! I forgot about my crush on Harry years ago! I just wanted-

“Honestly, I should accuse you of Blaise’s death. He lost all will to live the moment you left, the moronic fool. And I let him fall for you! I even fell for you, too! Merlin, I was the fool to let my defenses down.”

Ginny’s blood went cold as she heard this, and her hands moved slightly as she thought about how easy it would be to reach out and punch him, claw his face, strangle him, do something. But she held on to the last vestiges of her pride and control and lay still. After all, he would have told her that he fell for her if she was ‘awake,’ would he?

Draco continued in a musing tone, “Surprising, isn’t it, that Father was right about you, Weasley – poor magic trash, indeed. You lot are definitely a disgrace to the Wizarding World if this is how you treat the people you supposedly love. No wonder Percy left when he could.”

He paused for a moment and sighed, muttering under his breath, “After all you’ve put me through, Weasley, I’d have to say that you, in particular, are a disgrace to mankind. I hope I never see you again.” After snorting in disgust, he stalked away from towards the infirmary door.

When Ginny was certain that he had left the Infirmary, she finally let her eyes open. As she stared at the ceiling, she felt tears of rage and frustration well up from within her. How could Draco think that she was the one using them? She’d never lied to them about anything-

At that moment, she was struck by the fact that she had practically led Blaise on when she had been in love with Draco. In a way, she had done what Draco had accused her of doing and played her own games in their friendship. But, for Merlin’s sake, what she did was nothing compared to what they did, was it?

A small part of Ginny was cheering at the fact that Draco had been in love with her, but the rest of her mind knew that it was useless to hope that he felt the same way now. After all of the accusations and insults that he had just hurled at her, she wasn't quite sure that she cared to know if Draco still loved her.

Ginny pulled the sheets up to her chin, staring at the blurry ceiling as she let the tears trickle down her cheeks. Finally, she couldn’t control her emotions any longer; flipping herself over, she buried her face into her pillow as the muffled sounds of her sobs filled the room. She cried out all of her grief, regret, uncertainty, and broken heart into that pillow, not caring one whit if Pomfrey happened to hear her.

Fortunately, she was uninterrupted; when her sobs were reduced to sniffles, she propped her chin on her elbows as she stared out of the window blankly. The dark night was receding, making way for the faint pink and orange tinges that heralded the dawning of a new day. This new day proved to be more heartbreaking than the last, it seemed.

Eventually, she dropped her head onto her pillow and fell into an exhausted sleep.


Haven't you heard? Reviews are good for the soul!

Note: Much thanks to my lovely betas: esus, dracosslytheringal, and dracosbeauty927.

1) Just so you know, that's the last of the actual D/G interaction for a few chapters. Ginny has to grow up a little and learn some things, so she won't see Draco again until a few more chapters down the road. However, the D/Gness will still be there in the background.

2) So I've looked over my notes to this story, and there are 11 more chapters left in it, I believe.

3) If ANY of you guys have drawn a pic of scenes in this story, I'd love you forever if you sent it me. Actually, I love you forever for liking the story in the first place, but you know what I mean.

4) For updates, story cookies, random info on the Harry Potter world, and a chance to meet other people who like this story, join my Yahoo group. Hope to see you there!

Much thanks to my betas dracosbeauty927, dracosslytheringal, and esus. Also, thank you, my faithful readers, for having patience with me and not killing me over the long wait. Hope you enjoy it!

my mind is black
and I look for the grey outside
but I can’t seem to look outside my mind
where hell has decided to stay
pushing the past before my eyes
yearning away my chance at a future
your deception has caged me
my confusion blurs the lines
that separate everything I see
- Nickel

Trials

Rubbing her forehead to soothe her headache, Ginny let out a sigh of sheer exhaustion. Although she had been spending most of her day listlessly in her bed, her mind had been quite preoccupied with the new discoveries she’d made that morning. Glancing down at the newspapers that littered her lap, she mentally reviewed what had happened since the night Draco had left her with tear-stained cheeks and a sour taste in her mouth.

For days, her frustration and despondency left her in a near-somnolent state. Her trays of food went nearly untouched, for she preferred to spend her time in nostalgia. Memories of Blaise’s smiles and the strength of Draco’s arm kept her mind occupied, while her body lay unused. She ignored Dumbledore’s daily visits and Pomfrey’s bustling and murmuring as the minutes slowly melted into days. Not even Professor Lupin’s death was enough to bring her back to reality. As they wrapped his body in a white sheet and levitated him to the cold room to await burial, she was playing that train ride over and over in her mind, lost in what was, and what could have been.

This morning, Ginny was finally forced back into reality by an insistent tapping on her window. Of course, the noise disrupted her pleasant dream of Blaise and Draco, so she irritably called for Pomfrey. The older woman did not come, but the tapping continued unceasingly. Grumbling a bit, Ginny propped herself on her elbows and peered at the window behind her. Blinking, she tried to focus her eyes and soon realized that Pigwidgeon was at the window, with a letter for her.

Surprise kept Ginny glued in that position for a moment; then, she finally gathered her wits and fumbled with the window’s rusty latch. She was so excited at the arrival of news that it took her a full two minutes to finally open the window and allow the excited owl into the Infirmary. Catching him quickly before he began fluttering about, Ginny plopped back against her pillow and untied the letter from his feet with shaking hands. Once she had opened it, she read:

My dearest Ginny,

I am becoming extremely concerned that I haven’t received any owls from you; I hope you are healing well. Madame Pomfrey insists that you need your rest but you are still my only daughter and I worry about you. You’re a Weasley, I say, and we Weasleys are better off together. But, of course, even my words mean nothing if Dumbledore agrees with her.

That said, Ginny promise me that you will eat whatever you’re given and to drink every potion Madame Pomfrey gives you, even if you think you are feeling better, because you have been through a terrible ordeal. Remember, my dear, you must remain strong and come back to us quickly, because we miss you ever so much. See if you can’t make it home before poor Harry’s funeral; it would mean a great deal to Ron and Hermione especially, and I know that it would comfort you to be here.

Your father has buried himself with work at the Ministry and your brothers are being a general nuisance, unsure of what to do with themselves; we would all be happy and thankful to see you again safe and healthy. I hope that you are well enough to read this, and wish that you would answer me as soon as you feel able to, dear; we’re terribly concerned about you.

Love,
Mum

Ginny reread the owl before she fully comprehended what it said. She smiled in relief; her family was safe, and her brothers seemed to be recovering nicely. After a moment of satisfaction, she furrowed her brow thoughtfully and read the last two paragraphs again; from what her mother had written, her family had been sending owls to her all along. Yet, if they had been communicating with Ginny so much, why didn’t Pomfrey bother to tell her that they were all doing well? And the news that Harry’s funeral was that morning showed her just how much she’d missed during her time in the Infirmary. The reminder that there was life outside of those castle walls prompted the old Ginny to return, if only hesitantly. At the moment, she was determined to get a full explanation from Pomfrey. Slowly, she swung her legs over to the side of her bed. She tried to stand up, but almost fell over; a week of barely moving had weakened her. Steadying herself, Ginny attempted to walk slowly to Pomfrey’s office.

She’d taken her second step when Pomfrey herself opened the main entrance and bustled in, her arms laden with bed linen. Pomfrey didn’t notice Ginny at first; feeling a bit miffed, Ginny candidly blurted out, “Where the bloody hell is my owls?”

Pomfrey nearly dropped her bundle in shock. Finally noticing that Ginny was standing and looking quite upset, she hurried over while scolding, “Miss Weasley! Your language!”

Ginny couldn’t care less about the fact that she had just been disrespectful to her caretaker; instead, in true Weasley fashion, she continued in her accusatory tone, “I know you’ve been hiding my owls from me! How dare you! Do you even know how long I’ve been wondering if my family’s still alive? I’ve been wondering if any of them had died, or if Voldemort was still alive, or if I would be able to stay at Hogwarts - Hermione would be damn proud of me if she knew how much I worried! How could you do this to me?”

Pomfrey paled when she heard the word, “Voldemort,” and immediately slowed her steps. “I’ll have you know, Miss Weasley,” she began haughtily, “that I tried to tell you of their well-being. However, you were too stubborn to listen. Children and their dreaming...” She trailed off as she shook her head. “However, I will fetch the Headmaster to explain it to you, if you’ll simply return to your bed.”

With a hateful glare, Ginny crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the side of her bed for support. “No,” she flatly refused.

“Miss Weasley,” Pomfrey began exasperatedly.

“I won’t sit,” Ginny interrupted obstinately, “Until you give me a bloody good reason for why you hid my owls.”

Sighing resignedly, Pomfrey replied, “Miss Weasley, it wasn’t I who hid those owls. The Headmaster simply told me that you should not have your owls until you had fully healed, since you refused to talk to either of us.”

“But I have fully healed!” Ginny almost shrieked. “There isn’t a bloody scratch on me!” Except for the ones on my soul, she mentally added.

“Yes, I thought they were there, myself,” a kindly voice interrupted, as though the speaker could hear her thoughts. Startled, Ginny looked in the direction of the mysterious speaker, and found Professor Dumbledore standing at the entrance to the Infirmary.

“Headmaster!” Pomfrey exclaimed with audible relief as she hurried to Dumbledore’s side.

Neither Ginny nor Dumbledore looked at Pomfrey, for they were staring into each other’s eyes from opposite sides of the room. After a moment, Ginny flushed and shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling as though he could see directly into the chaotic contents of her mind. His eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, seeing her memories and thoughts of Draco and Blaise as they resurfaced in her mind. What confused her about these memories was that she was now seeing them with ‘new eyes.’ The bitterness and regret that had clouded her mind in the past days dissipated, leaving her mind free to make rational judgments. She still felt some anger and resentment, but underneath those emotions, she could now see that she felt that strongly because she truly had loved them both, if unequally.

She was startled when Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly; turning to look at him, Ginny saw that he had a sympathetic smile on his face as he began, “Yes, Miss Weasley, it was my idea for you be isolated so drastically from your family and news of the world outside. At first, I thought you merely needed more time to reflect on what had happened, as well as recover from your injuries. But when you showed no signs of improvement, I was forced to take drastic measures.” While he spoke, he gave a look that indicated a greater meaning to his words. Ginny blushed, feeling as though he really had seen everything that she had seen in her mind. Serenely, he looked at Pomfrey and said, “Poppy, please fetch Miss Weasley’s owls from your office. I believe she has now recovered enough to return to the Wizarding World.”

Pomfrey looked at Dumbledore disapprovingly, but she quietly did as he asked and went off to her chambers. Ginny, still in shock about what she’d just heard, stood by her bed awkwardly for a long moment, unsure of what to do. Again, as though he could read her mind, Dumbledore smiled gently and suggested, “Perhaps it would be best if you sat down, Miss Weasley. You’ll need to stretch out your legs a bit more before you can walk as you used to.”

Mechanically, Ginny did as he said and slowly settled herself back under her covers. While she busied herself, Dumbledore moved towards her bedside and continued in a lower voice, “If you should need me, Miss Weasley, I am always available to assist you to the best of my ability, particularly in clearing up certain situations. I will leave you to read your owls and return to visit you again later this evening.” Ginny had merely stared at him and forgot to ask where he would be going, for at that moment, Pomfrey had returned with a week’s worth of newspapers and owls. Ginny’s curiosity was too piqued for her to be bothered with anything else that morning, so Pomfrey and Dumbledore left her as soon as she began reading her first owl.

While the owls from her mother had only been full of love and worry, Ginny was surprised and dismayed when she read her brother Bill’s owls. It was surprising how intent he had been to keep her updated on the family doings, but Ginny mentally thanked him for taking the effort to do so. According to his accounts, Charlie had broken his leg when he had fallen off of his dragon; Charlie, Hagrid, and some others had been involved in a fight between magical creatures outside of the castle walls. She shivered when she heard that even vampires had been present on school grounds that day; from what Bill wrote, it had been a miracle that none of those creatures had entered the castle through he same entrance that Voldemort and the Death Eaters had used. Bill himself had been present in the same corridor that Ginny had been in, and had been slashed with a particularly nasty curse from Augustus Rookwood while they fought each other. Thankfully, both he and Charlie were recovering nicely.

Bill also sent news of the private funeral they had held for Fred, and George’s reaction to his twin’s death. George had originally intended to close Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes for good after the battle was over, but once news of Voldemort’s death spread, Dedalus Diggle and a host of others had wanted to buy some merchandise for their celebrations. Bowing to popular demand, George let the store be opened again, but left it in the hands of Ron and Charlie. Meanwhile, George opted to remain at home, holed up in his room. According to Bill, he never spoke to anyone, and had lost any sense of humor that he had once had.

No one was able to do anything for George, Bill had written, because he would not let anyone help him and refused to talk about what was troubling him. Bill would have pressured his brother more, but he was still required to report to work at the Gringott’s London branch, while their mother and father were busy with Order business and the ministry. Minister Bones had been so impressed by Ginny’s father that she offered him a promotion. Ginny smiled to herself as she read that he had refused, stating that he was “more than happy doing what he had always loved.” As Bill had jokingly commented, if there was anyone in the family who was the epitome of Weasley strength and stubbornness, it was their father.

Ginny cleared her mind of thoughts of that morning, and then refocused her eyes on the parchment that lay on her lap. While Bill’s words had been simple and straightforward, she could still feel the suffering and hardship that he and the rest of the family were surely experiencing. Her heart went out to each of her family members and she longed to be by their side, yet Pomfrey had said nothing about when she would be allowed to leave. Naturally, Ginny was frustrated at the older woman’s reticence on the subject, but she decided to wait for the afternoon to question Dumbledore personally.

Sighing disconsolately, Ginny pushed the owls aside and reached for the Daily Prophets. Surprisingly, it had taken her the better part of four hours to read through every article that pertained to the battle at Hogwarts and the aftermath, as well as skim over the other happenings in the Wizarding World. Rifling through them once more, Ginny reread the headlines in order:

1 November, Morning Edition: You-Know-Who Defeated by Harry Potter!

1 Nov., Evening Edition: Fudge Resigns; A. Bones Declared New Minister.

2 Nov., Morning Edition: Boy-Who-Lived-And-Conquered Dead!

2 Nov., Evening Edition: Final Death Toll: 25; Bagman Murdered

3 Nov., Morning Edition: Potter’s Murderer Suspected Muggle! Still At Large.

3 Nov., Evening Edition: Remaining Death Eaters On Trial; Potter’s Funeral Friday

4 Nov., Morning Edition: Avery & Nott Sentenced to Azkaban; Purebloods Claim You-Know-Who Was Right - Like Potter’s Murderer, Muggles Are Dangerous!

4 Nov., Evening Edition: Snape Declared Innocent; Mulciber Sentenced to Azkaban

5 Nov., Morning Edition: MoM Denies Potter’s Murderer is Muggle; Lestrange Sentenced to Azkaban

5 Nov., Evening Edition: Macnair Sentenced to Azkaban; Rookwood Escapes Custody

6 Nov., Morning Edition: Potter’s Murderer Captured! Identity Withheld By MoM; Jugson Sentenced to Azkaban

6 Nov., Evening Edition: Travers and Crabbe Sentenced to Azkaban; Rookwood Spotted Near Surrey

7 Nov., Morning Edition: Potter’s Funeral; D. Malfoy Declared Innocent

She sighed out loud as she read the last title; apparently, Draco’s money and influence had kept him out of Azkaban again. One part of Ginny was happy to hear this news, yet another wanted revenge for how he’d used her. Shaking her head, Ginny told herself that while Draco was set free, she and her family and friends would always know the truth of what happened. Because of her damning knowledge of his actual activities during that last battle, she was confident that he would never be able to harm her again. Of course, her newfound freedom from him caused her to miss him more, but she was determined to move on with her life.

Trying to turn her mind from Draco, she glanced at the headline screaming, “Potter’s Murderer Captured!” She’d been following the articles that talked about the search, and was quite intrigued by it all. Apparently, Harry had been stabbed by Godric Gryffindor’s sword, yet there were no magical traces on Harry’s body, or in the area where he was slain. Any magical person would have left some sort of magical signature on the hilt of the sword or on Harry himself if they had killed him; yet, there was no sign of a magical person. Thus, the Prophet thought it likely that a Muggle had killed Harry; of course, that was entirely impossible, for no Muggle could see or enter Hogwarts. Ginny herself had thought long and hard about it, yet she couldn’t understand how someone non-magical could kill Harry.

Of course, rumors of a Muggle killing the Boy-Who-Lived simply played into the hands of the remaining Purebloods, who tried to incite public outrage by claiming that Voldemort was correct in his assumptions that Muggles were any wizard or witch’s enemies. That idea didn’t hold with any of the Muggleborns or Halfbloods who had fought in the war, and remembered their own persecution, so the idea lost all its potency. Ginny smirked to herself at the idea of Pureblooded bigots being put in their rightful place.

Her smirk turned to a look of pity as her eyes fell on a picture of Harry in this morning’s issue. He was smiling in the picture, holding up the Snitch in one hand while the other kept him steady on his Firebolt. His Quidditch uniform was rumpled and dirty, yet Ginny thought he’d never looked more beautiful. While she had lost her infatuation with Harry long ago, she still remembered how to read each of his expressions. Tracing an outline around his face, Ginny could see that he was very happy at that moment. In a way, she could relate to him. She had never been happier than when she had been with Draco and Blaise. Unlike everything else in her life, except for some of her clothing, Draco and Blaise were hers alone. They were not hand-me-downs from her brothers or even her brothers’ friends, but they still loved her and cared for her. Just as Harry reveled in his success on the Quidditch pitch, where he was free to claim a victory as his own, Ginny had also once reveled in the knowledge that she had friends who wanted her as she was.

Ginny’s vision blurred with tears of frustration as she stared at the picture and continued tracing it with her finger. No matter what their differences had been, she wished she had been at Harry’s funeral that morning. Yet, she’d been so preoccupied with recovering the owls and Daily Prophets that she’d completely forgotten to ask if she could go. A part of her resented Dumbledore for not mentioning it to her; in hindsight, she could see that he’d been sidestepping the issue the entire time he’d spoken to her. Staring at the picture again, she couldn’t help but wonder why he’d be so cruel as to deny her this one chance for closure. With Harry’s funeral, Ginny felt that she could have ended this chapter of her life and moved on.

Now, she would always be locked in this sea of uncertainty, doubting herself and what she’d once trusted in. The thought of being tortured in that way brought even more tears to her eyes, but she was prevented from making a spectacle of herself when she heard the door to the Infirmary open. Looking up quickly, Ginny sniffed and willed her tears away to get a better look at who had entered. She wasn’t surprised to see Professor Dumbledore approaching her, but she was rather startled by the strange-looking bowl in his arms. “Professor,” she bit out without warmth, not bothering to sit up or tidy the papers and owls on her lap.

“Miss Weasley,” he greeted her cordially, as he settled into a chair next to her bed. “I trust you have caught up with the news while I was away?” His blue eyes seemed a bit dull, even though there was a kindly smile on his face.

Nodding mechanically, Ginny replied, “Yes, I have.” Pausing a moment, she sneered, “I assume you were at Harry’s funeral?”

The smile left the Headmaster’s face as he nodded.

Seething with resentment, she crossed her arms across her chest and muttered, “Since I was unfortunately detained from finding some closure in my life, how was it?”

To her surprise, he simply smiled again and replied, “I had my reasons, Miss Weasley. Yet, you still deserve to see the funeral as though you were there.” Picking up the strange bowl, he held it out to her and stated, “It’s all in this Pensieve.”

“What does it do?” she asked, forgetting that she was to be upset with Dumbledore as she stared at it skeptically.

He smiled genially at her while he explained, “It’s a treasury of my thoughts and memories. If I have something particularly troubling that I want to forget, or if I want to remember something very important, I can simply transfer it from my mind to my Pensieve.” He proceeded to hold his wand to his temple as he spoke; Ginny watched in fascination as he demonstrated extracting a wispy white thread from his forehead with his wand. “This is a memory of mine that I can now add to the Pensieve,” he explained, before touching the wand back to his forehead and allowing the memory to reenter his mind. “I’ve added my memory of today’s funeral ceremony to it. I would have added the actual burial, but that is a particular memory that I do not wish to part with,” he added softly as his blue eyes dulled once again.

Now that she knew that the Pensieve actually held Dumbledore’s memories, Ginny had a sense of what sharing this was costing him. After all, she wouldn’t part with any of her memories of Blaise and Draco, even if someone demanded to see them. Respectfully, she asked, “How can I see this memory, Professor?”

Dumbledore smiled in response and wordlessly reached into his voluminous robes, pulling out her wand. Ginny gasped at the sight of it, and eagerly grabbed it when he offered it to her; while she hadn’t even realized that she was without it for the past few days, she’d found herself longing for it all morning. As she held it, she felt a welcome surge of magical energy throughout her body, as it inspired her self-confidence once again.

Ginny finally tore her eyes away from her wand when she felt Dumbledore set the bowl on her lap. It was surprisingly light, belying the hewn stone that it was forged from. Looking at the Professor, she caught the familiar twinkle in his eyes as he said, “Dip your wand in it.”

She complied and watched in amazement as the liquid-like substance turned clear, then a fantastic mix of oranges, pinks, and blues. Suddenly, she realized that she was staring in the direction of the dawning sun. Turning her eyes away from the blinding light, she blinked rapidly to regain some of her vision. When she looked back into the Pensieve again, she was startled to find that she had a bird’s-eye view of the ceremony before her.

After a moment of hard thinking, Ginny realized that she didn’t recognize the field where the ceremony had taken place. Of course, considering the amount of people she saw before her, she could understand why it would be held in an unfamiliar location, much like the Quidditch World Cup. Slightly horrified that she’d just compared Harry to a Quidditch game, Ginny focused on the elements within the scene.

A platform had been set up near a copse of trees, while the rest of the land for a mile around was covered in green grass, still drenched with dew. Apparition sites were nearly a quarter of a kilometer away, where many people were arriving. The ceremony still hadn’t started, yet there was already a large crowd gathered around the platform, talking in hushed whispers. Spotting Dumbledore’s telltale blue robes, Ginny dipped her head to get a closer look at him; all of a sudden, her nose touched the liquid, and she was falling through a dark, cold whirlpool.

In only a few short moments, she found herself standing on the stage herself. In the right-most corner, she saw Ron consoling a brokenhearted Hermione as she wept. Charlie and Bill were seated nearby, talking quietly to each other while looking out at the crowd periodically. Charlie’s cane was leaning against the back of his chair, while Bill was sitting up rather stiffly, due to the uncomfortable bandages around his torso. George was on the other side of Bill, sitting straight in his chair and staring blankly at his folded hands on his lap. Ginny’s heart constricted in sympathy when she noticed his gaunt features, just as Bill had described them.

Someone cleared their throat, disrupting Ginny’s train of thought. Turning to face the direction of the sound, Ginny found her parents and other Order members and Ministry workers on the other side of the platform. Dumbledore was standing in the middle, facing the multitude of people who had arrived to pay their respects. With the help of a Sonorous Charm, he raised his arms in a gesture of silence and began:

“My fellow witches and wizards.

“We are gathered here this morning to pay our respects to Harry Potter, the wizard of seventeen years of age who defeated the greatest evil of our age. You have all known him as the ‘Boy Who Lived.’ Yet, I stand here today to tell you that he was more than our savior.

”He was a friend, a protégé, and a brother. He was a Muggle-raised wizard who had no idea of his magical abilities until the tender age of eleven. He was a diligent Hogwarts student and a proven leader. He was the youngest Seeker in a century during his first year on the Gryffindor House team. He was even the nemesis of Voldemort and his supporters.

“Yet, most of all, he was simply a boy...”

Ginny tuned out his words as her eyes roved the crowd. Everyone was silent as they listened to Dumbledore speak. One woman, dressed in black from head to toe, was dabbing pitifully at her eyes with a handkerchief, while her husband tightened his arms around her. Biting back her own tears, Ginny forced herself to continue examining the crowd before she made a spectacle of herself. To her astonishment, she realized that some students’ parents and her father’s coworkers were dotted throughout the crowd.

“...In short, he faced obstacles that some of us can only dream of...”

Her gaze moved on to the back of the crowd, where latecomers were straggling in from the apparition points. One particular pair of arrivals caught her eye, and she watched them carefully. Both were cloaked in black, with hoods pulled well over their faces to hide them from view. One was taller than the other, but both were thin and lithe in their movements. In fact, the gait of the shorter one looked vaguely familiar. Squinting as hard as she could, Ginny was horrified when she watched the shorter one’s hood slide back a bit, allowing the emerging sunlight to glint brightly off of his hair. Draco had been there.

“...We all have a destiny, a higher purpose to our lives. Yet, as Harry showed us, the foretelling of our fate is insignificant. It is we who decide our respective destinies, and no one can take that decision from us.”

Ginny couldn’t bear to watch or hear any more, now that she knew that Draco had been there. His appearance at Harry’s funeral was like a knife twisting in her gut; she wondered angrily if he was there to gloat at how he’d played with her, and indirectly with Harry himself. “Bloody bastard,” she muttered out loud in the Pensieve, then covered her mouth in horror, hoping that her parents hadn’t heard her.

Of course, since she was only in a memory, her parents were completely oblivious to what she’d said. Sighing in relief, she turned her attention back to Dumbledore as he ended his speech. However, instead his closing statements, she heard an amused tone behind her mutter, “Actually, I do believe both of his parents were married at the time of his birth.”

Startled, Ginny whipped her head around and found a different Albus Dumbledore standing next to her on the stage. “P- P- Professor!” she exclaimed.

“Do you see now why I did not allow you to attend?” he asked quietly, his eyes boring into hers.

“You knew he’d be there, then!” she exclaimed, stamping her foot indignantly. “How could you let him desecrate-”

“I only thought that he’d see this funeral as a way to obtain some closure, just as you had thought,” he replied mildly. “While I didn’t have control over his actions, I knew I could influence yours greatly. I feared that if you met him there, you would never have the opportunity for resolution, my dear Miss Weasley.”

Amazingly, Ginny found that she couldn’t reply to that statement. It was true, after all; even the sight of Draco in Dumbledore’s memory was enough to make her want to leave the Pensieve altogether.

As though he could read her mind, the Headmaster looked at her from over his half-moon glasses and asked, “Would you like to return to the infirmary now, Miss Weasley?”

She nodded mutely and relented as he put his hand under her elbow. Suddenly, she felt as though she was rising into the sky, and doing a slow somersault in the same black void she had passed through before, until she found herself seated on her bed in the infirmary, with Dumbledore seated beside her. He was smiling indulgently at her as he removed the Pensieve from her lap and placed it carefully on the bedside table. “Well,” he began conversationally, “I expect you have many questions for me.”

Shaking her head, Ginny muttered, “I still can’t believe he had the gall to show his face there. After all he’s done-”

“And what exactly has he done, Miss Weasley?” he interrupted quietly. “He was acquitted of all charges against him, so he was technically free to do as he pleased.”

“He betrayed me! He lied about spying on Voldemort, when he was really spying on us and telling them! He nearly got me killed, too! Aimed the Killing Curse at me and everything,” she finished in a huff of indignation.

To her disgust, Dumbledore’s smile grew wider as he replied, “Perhaps you shouldn’t be so quick to judge his actions, Miss Weasley. After all, you can never know one’s intentions unless that person informs you of them. As for your brush with death,” he paused, “I believe that there were mitigating circumstances at the time that led to Mr. Malfoy’s reaction.”

“What in Merlin’s name could those ‘circumstances’ have been?” Ginny asked with a skeptical look.

“I am not at liberty to say,” he replied evenly. “However, all I can say is that that moment may have been the most painful one in Mr. Malfoy’s young life.”

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest petulantly and muttered, “It caused me quite a bit of pain as well, I’ll have you know.”

Chuckling gently, Dumbledore nodded and asked, “Was there anything else that troubled you, Miss Weasley?”

Staring at the old man seated beside her, Ginny fought to keep her temper in check. She couldn’t understand what was so amusing about what Draco had done to her. It certainly hadn’t been funny to realize that he’d loved her, yet now hated her. Nor had it been amusing to see him cast the Killing Curse at her. Pressing her arms tightly against her chest, she forced herself to breathe normally and stop thinking about it. Instead, she decided to turn the tables on the Headmaster. With an innocent look, she asked, “I was wondering – who killed Harry?”

Pursing his lips together tightly, Dumbledore deliberated before he answered, “I am afraid I cannot release that information.”

“Right, then,” she conceded. “Can you at least tell me why he nearly went mad before he died?”

With dull eyes, the Headmaster looked away from Ginny as he answered, “He had been possessed by Tom on and off throughout the summer. I had known about it and tried to help, but Harry wouldn’t learn Occlumency from Professor Snape, and Professor Snape himself was unwilling to teach Harry. Of course, the possessions got worse during the school term, leading to his brief stint in the Infirmary. I would have helped him, but I was much too afraid that Tom would have known of it. Can you imagine if Tom had gotten a glimpse into my mind, Miss Weasley?” Dumbledore whispered with anguish. “I would have unwittingly betrayed the Order and all that we had worked for. I simply couldn’t.”

He closed his eyes and winced, as though the pain was still too fresh for him to bear. Ginny stared at the old man before her, nearly gaping at his obvious torment. She wanted to reach out to him and tell him about her own mental torment over Blaise’s death and Draco’s betrayal. She wanted to comfort him and show him that he was not to blame for Harry’s death. She wanted to encourage him and find some hope that the Wizarding World would be able to recover from this war.

But before she could say any of those things, his eyes suddenly opened and he muttered, “I beg you, Miss Weasley. Do not seek closure for a time in your life until you know of everything that happened during that period. I have sought my closure over Harry, and I find that I cannot, now that I am aware of what he went through.”

Stunned at this version of her normally barmy Headmaster, Ginny hardly noticed when the door of the Infirmary burst open. Mechanically turning her head towards the doorway, she felt an odd sense of regret when she saw her brother Bill standing there, smiling widely as he called out to her, “Ginny!”

Please feed my addiction and review!

1. The poem at the beginning of the chapter was written by Nickel, the author of Letting Go (D/G) over at Fiction Alley, and a good friend. She's so addicted to this story that she wrote a poem and is painting a scene from it. Here's the rest of the poem:

'I know I was wrong
That doesn’t make you right

You turn your back on me
Resentfully blaming me
Bitter because of a loss
That is killing us both
While we resort to hate

You won’t tell me what I did
You won’t admit your lies

You walk away and I stare
Hoping you’ll return
To where you let out your anger
Inviting me in unknowingly
Before pushing me away again

My mind is black
And I look for the grey outside

But I can’t seem to look outside my mind
Where hell has decided to stay
Pushing the past before my eyes
Yearning away my chance at a future
Your deception has caged me

My confusion blurs the lines
That separate everything I see

So your lies and the truth mix
And I don’t know who I am anymore
I’m positive I loved you both
But love failed to hold us together
Another thing I can’t depend on

I answer your goodbye
With a silent plea… don’t let go'

2. As for the Pensieve, please read the chapter entitled 'Pensieve' from GOF. I followed it as closely as possible, and I believe what I described is canon.

3. If you'd like notifications of new chapters for On Fire and my other fanfics, come on over to my Yahoo group. And please tell me what you think in a review!

Note: Much thanks to my betas (in alphabetical order): esus, dracosbeauty927, dracosslytheringal. I hope you gals like the finished product even better than you liked the original!

Plus, special thanks to my boyfriend, mrndn1, for a super-fast beta right when I needed it. I love you!

[/sappiness]

why, why do I come here?
seeking out the memories I hold in,
'cause you put your spell on me,
made me live in memory,
and I'm frozen in just the wrong time
- Keane

Talk

In a pub in Ottery St. Catchpole, Ginny stared dolefully at the near-empty Butterbeer bottle in her hand. It was hard to hear her own thoughts in the din in the pub, and she wondered exactly how she'd managed to be here on Christmas Eve.

Ginny hadn't planned on doing anything other than sleeping tonight. But once dinner was over, Bill had invited her and George to the local pub to get some air and escape their mother's persistent coddling, which had only increased now that the war was over. She'd refused, of course, but Bill wouldn't hear of it and made sure to throw a coat and gloves at Ginny before he pushed her out of the disguised doorway in the kitchen.

Sighing disconsolately, Ginny tucked her feet under her chair and glared at George's slumped form in the chair beside her. The moment they'd arrived at the pub, both of her brothers had started drinking the hardest Firewhiskey they could find, and with a pat to the head and a bottle of Butterbeer, they'd left Ginny to her own devices. She'd roamed about the room for a bit, smiling at the other wizards and witches present, while avoiding one particularly drunk fellow who ogled her. After half an hour, she joined Bill and George at their table.

Bill had regaled her and George with stories about his curse-breaking in Egypt, yet as the night wore on, his stories became more sporadic and his demeanor morose. Since Bill had been Ginny and George's main source of entertainment, his mood spread to them. George had continued drinking himself to oblivion while Ginny stared about her and fell to thinking. At first she had amused herself with watching the various characters in the pub, but she soon grew bored of that too.

Picking up her Butterbeer, Ginny drained it and loudly set the bottle down on the wooden table. As she relished the last dregs of sweetness in her mouth, she idly wondered where Bill was at the moment and wished that she had someone to talk to, preferably someone who wasn't sloshed. She grinned to herself as she traced the grain of the table, wondering who she would have invited to the pub with her if she'd had the choice. Draco and Blaise crossed her mind.

Ginny closed her eyes at that thought and tried to clear her mind before she began thinking about them again. Clenching her fist on the table, she desperately wondered how she'd fallen into that trap of memories. She'd been so good at avoiding any mention or thought of them since she'd arrived home that she'd deceived herself into thinking that she was over them. Yet, even as she forced herself to focus on something else, the unbidden vision of Draco's murderous eyes during the final battle arose in her mind.

Opening her eyes again, she looked about frantically for a way to take her mind off of it, off of him. At this point, she was willing to seek out the attention of that grabby bloke once again; she twisted around in her chair and searched hopelessly for him or Bill. When she could find neither, she turned to George and jostled him awake.

"Whassat?" George mumbled incoherently as he tried to pry his eyes open.

"George!" Ginny said sharply, shaking his arm again. "George, talk to me," she demanded, a hint of desperation in her voice. And there, in her mind's eye, was Blaise, crumpled on the floor next to Draco's feet, his normally-neat robes and hair askew and his wand falling out of his outstretched hand...

"'S nothin' to talk 'bout," George replied sullenly, turning away from her as he closed his eyes again.

Ginny would have pinched him or hit him, but she was distracted by his half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey, which was sitting a few centimeters from her own hand. Glancing at George to check that he was asleep, she reached for the bottle and took a healthy swig.

This was Ginny's first taste of alcohol, so she was sputtering afterwards and nearly dropped the bottle. Thankful that she hadn't made a mess, Ginny leaned her elbows on her knees and stared at the floor, trying to catch her breath. With a sinking heart, she realized that the Firewhiskey didn't help.

She blurted out the first thing on the tip of her tongue. "That was an Unforgivable, Ron! You'll go to Azkaban!" Almost immediately, she wanted to smack herself for saying such a stupid thing...

Ginny reached for the bottle again, her hands trembling so hard that she was once again in danger of dropping it. She took another swig, spluttering again when she drank too much at once and spilled Firewhiskey all over her.

Ron looked sheepish, and his eyes still burned with rage... She was soon eye-to-eye with the business end of Draco's wand...

Suppressing a cry of anguish in the bottle's mouth, Ginny tipped her head back and drank more.

Ron lunged at Draco to wrestle his wand away... A green shaft of light was heading towards her...

She barely noticed the tears trickling down her cheeks, mixing with the Firewhiskey as she brought the bottle to her lips once more.

She heard the curse coming nearer and closed her eyes... An unfamiliar weight on the back of her knees made her stumble... She was falling, felt a brief moment of pain...

"Ginny? GINNY!" someone yelled loudly in her ear, shaking her so hard by the shoulders that she had to open her eyes. She was startled when she realized that Bill's face was mere inches away from hers; his face was contorted in worry and fatigue, and his breath smelled strongly of alcohol.

"Gerroff," she muttered as she continued crying, trying to shake his hands off of her.

But Bill was furious, and refused to let go. "Where did you get that Firewhiskey?" he gritted out, squeezing her shoulders so tightly that Ginny was wincing in pain. She shook her head, indicating that she wouldn't tell, but he just shook her harder. "Tell me!" he demanded.

"It's Fred's," she gasped after letting out a loud sob. "I'm sorry, all right? I - I just wanted..."

"Right then," Bill replied gruffly, letting go of her shoulders as he rose to his feet and began collecting their things. "I think it's about bloody time we headed home."

Feeling a bit better, Ginny stood up shakily and slipped on her coat. The threadbare wool warmed her far more than she expected it to, but she couldn't stop sniffling as she buttoned herself up with numb fingers. As though she were in a dream, she felt Bill grab her arm and frog-march her to the door as he called out a hearty farewell to the bartender. Vaguely, she was aware of a taller, similarly threadbare form bumping into her and swaying drunkenly away as she touched the door's handle.

After a moment, she was forced awake as the chilly winter air outside blasted her face. Blinking owlishly, she looked around her and finally realized that she was outside on the tavern's porch, wincing in the bright, cheery light from the lantern above her head. Without a word of explanation, Bill grabbed her arm again and forced her to keep step with his long strides. The cold night air soon cleared some of the cobwebs from her mind, so she soon realized that they were walking home.

The walk back was quiet and rather uneventful, except for a spectacular view of George's backside when he was sick in the snow. Normally, she or Bill would have joked with him about it, but they were so exhausted that their thoughts were bent on returning to the warm living room in the Burrow. Ginny had never felt as weary before as she did on that silent trek home. Even when she'd realized that Blaise was dead - No, you idiot, don't think about him! - she hadn't felt as numb and soulless as she did now.

Thankfully, they reached the Burrow before they all developed a bad case of frostbite. Before she could the stomp the snow out of her shoes, Bill pushed her onto a couch, gave her a stern look and muttered, "Don't go anywhere," before he dragged George upstairs to bed.

Ginny lay slumped on that brightly-colored couch for nearly an hour, though it felt closer to a year by her reckoning. The effects of the Firewhiskey came and went, making the room spin for a good twenty minutes before everything righted itself again. With a yawn, she wondered if she was going mad from all of this 'not-thinking' of Draco and Blaise, but she dozed off before she could think of an answer.

The next she knew, she was being roughly shaken by Bill, again. "Stop," she mumbled, trying to find a more comfortable position on the couch, even though she was rather bunched up in her coat, hat, and gloves. Bill would have none of it, though, and had practically pushed her to the floor when she opened her eyes and yelled sleepily, "Bloody hell, I'M UP!"

"That's the spirit," Bill chuckled unrepentantly as he sat down beside her. Reaching over to the table by his elbow, he picked up a steaming cup of tea and held it out to her before he continued, "Here, this will make you feel better."

Groaning, Ginny took the cup and sipped it carefully. Sure enough, the sweet warmth of the tea seemed to spread to all corners of her body. Sighing gratefully, she took another long drink.

She was so preoccupied with her tea that she forgot that her eldest brother was sitting beside her until she was done and looked up at him. He had been watching her impassively, but when he noticed that she was watching him, he smirked at her and took the cup. "I suppose that taught you not to touch Firewhiskey again?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Shut up, you git," she muttered, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back on the sofa with a sigh. They sat there in silence for a long moment, until Ginny looked at Bill again and asked, "Is there a reason why you didn't let me go straight to bed?"

With an infuriating smirk, Bill crossed his legs and leaned back into the cushions as he avoided the question with one of his own. "Why don't we talk?"

Suspiciously, Ginny slowly stated, "All right. What about?"

Bill gave her that stupid smirk again as he said, "You."

"There's nothing to talk about," Ginny answered too quickly. "I'm fine."

"Just as fine as George is, I see," Bill stated nonchalantly.

Ginny had no answer to that seemingly innocent remark. Both she and Bill knew that George wasn't taking the loss of Fred too well. When Ginny had returned home from the Infirmary, she found that George was the only brother who secluded himself in his room and refused to leave even for meals. While everyone sympathized with his grief, it was only Ginny who knew how deeply he mourned.

From the moment she set foot in her childhood home, Ginny was given the job of serving George his meals in his room. On her first trip, she'd found George lying on his bed on his side, staring at Fred's bed and belongings, which looked as though they hadn't been moved since he'd last been at the Burrow. Dropping her eyes in pity, she'd laid the tray on George's bedside table and left him quietly. When she'd returned, the tray was untouched and he was fast asleep.

For a week or so, the food was cold and barely touched. In fact, he'd been like that until Bill took the initiative to enter his room and speak with him. Ginny didn't know what those two had discussed, but since that day, the food she left for him showed signs of being eaten, if only half-heartedly.

Turning her eyes to Bill, Ginny felt her heart sink when she realized what the true purpose of this 'talk' of theirs was. As he had with George, Bill was hoping to help her out of her own depression. Ginny was thankful that he was taking such an interest in her, but half of her conscience rebelled against being used so blatantly. Was he really hoping to cure everything that she'd been through? He hadn't a single clue of what Ginny had felt when she was hurt to the point where she didn't think she could handle anymore until she withered away into nothingness. Unable to hide her thoughts, she blurted out sarcastically, "Am I your new pet project? The next Weasley to be helped by your incomparable powers of healing?"

A moment later, Ginny wanted to bite her tongue off in shame. The look on Bill's face betrayed how hurt he was to hear that much bitterness from the mouth of his little sister. "Bill-" she began uncertainly, trying to think of a way to soothe the effects of her verbal barb.

"Shut it," he replied angrily as he rose to his feet. He stood there for a moment, looking down at her with dislike and a measure of pity. "You know that Mum and Dad are busy with the Ministry and the Order. George is off in his room recovering from his brother's death, Ron's probably crying in Hermione's arms at this second, and Charlie's back in Romania. I thought I'd lend a shoulder to cry on and maybe a listening ear, but if you're so full of yourself that you won't see how your life is slipping away, then continue, by all means!" Finished with his rant, Bill turned on his heel, his ponytail and earring swinging with the movement as he began walking away from her.

Ginny gaped at the back of his head as he walked away. She didn't even have time to examine her own feelings about what he had said before she called out, "Bill, please! I didn't mean it! I- I just can't stand this anymore. It's so hard to forget them, to forget everything that happened!"

Bill stopped in his tracks, and turned around to face her. With an expressionless face, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "Perhaps you shouldn't try so hard to forget?"

"What... What do you mean?" Ginny asked with wide eyes.

"I mean," he replied patiently, returning to the couch and plopping down on it, "that the key to moving on isn't forgetting. It's remembering and learning from your mistakes," his voice trailed off into a whisper as he finished.

Ginny dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap, trying to think about what he'd just said. Had she really been going about this the wrong way? Would remembering how Draco and Blaise had used her to get that information on the secret entrance from Hogsmeade actually help her find some semblance of normalcy in her life? Would she actually be able face the future by thinking through her time as a pawn, even though she felt like her heart would explode if she even thought of Blaise's eyes? "That's a rather tall order, don't you think?" she muttered, staring unseeingly at the clenched hands in her lap

"Tell me all of it, Ginny," Bill quietly pleaded, reaching over to clasp her hands in his.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny focused on his hairy knuckles as she embarked on the tale of how she'd found two wonderful friends on the train ride to Hogwarts in September. She told him of how Blaise would protect her from anyone and how Draco became a pillar of strength in her eyes. She also described the Dementor attack at the Quidditch match, the strange words of foreboding that Blaise had told her before he kissed her, and the way Harry's green eyes darkened in hate when he caught her in his room.

It took a full two hours to tell it all, and when she was done, Ginny could feel her brain and heart pounding in a strange mixture of relief, fear, anxiety, and resignation. Trying to ignore her odd feelings, she finally whispered, "Now, nothing's the way it used to be. It's so hard to adjust, because I feel like I've been living someone else's life these past few months. So many people are gone, and whoever isn't dead is just... changed. Or gone in other ways," she added, thinking of Draco leaving her in the infirmary. Only now, as she retold her story, did she realize that he had turned his back on more than her supposedly sleeping figure and Blaise's body; he had also left his past behind.

Bill cleared his throat gently to rouse her from her thoughts and then quietly stated, "I know this is the one of the worst times to say this, Ginny, considering that we've just been through a bloody war... But life, what we had before Harry entered our lives and our world, isn't always a battle."

Ginny stared at him in confusion. "Well, I'm rather aware of that," she began in a hesitant voice, wondering where he was going with this.

Shaking his head, Bill removed his hand from hers and rubbed at his bloodshot eyes. "No, I don't think you do," he answered, suppressing a yawn. "What I mean is, you are always going to have hard times in your life, Ginny. Everyone does, as you already know. But there's more to our lives than those struggles we face."

Ginny dropped her eyes again and turned away, whispering, "How is that possible, Bill? Is there really more to my life than this? I feel as though I've done everything that I'm useful for, and soon it will be my time-"

Bill interrupted her by grabbing her shoulder as he had in the pub, shaking her out of her thoughts again. "Don't say that, Ginny," he hissed, turning her chin so that she was forced to look him in the eye. "Don't you ever say that again! There's so much more to your life that you haven't experienced yet."

Her face was one of disbelief, so he tried again. "Ginny, believe me - what you've gone through says a lot about your courage and strength. But your past doesn't make you who you are. It's how you react to what happened to you, and how you're able to deal with it, that defines your character. And some day, you'll be known for making a life for yourself despite what you went through."

Ginny watched his face, taking note of the barely suppressed excitement and earnestness in his voice. The fact that her own brother believed so much in her brought tears to her eyes; with a watery smile, she whispered, "You say that as though you know my future already. I never knew you were a Divination buff as well, Bill."

He grinned good-naturedly at her and shrugged. "Mark my words, Ginny. You'll make something of yourself someday."

"You really think so?" she asked, her eyes pleading for his assurance even as a lone tear trickled down her cheek.

"Yes," he replied simply, reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief and handing it to her. Once she'd blown her nose and settled back down, he leaned back on the couch and surveyed her. "You are the first female Weasley in Merlin-knows how many generations. You're the only sister of Ronald Weasley, Best Friend of the Boy Who Conquered," he grinned teasingly, which caused her to giggle.

"Honestly, Ginny," Bill began in a brighter tone, "after all that you've been through, do you honestly believe that things won't get better? True, it might be another ordeal to get everything right again," he added hastily, "but you won't be alone. You can't get rid of us that easily!" he laughed, wagging his eyebrows teasingly.

It was only a few moments later when Ginny finally went to bed, but she'd never felt as safe and loved as she did that night, wrapped in her old coverlet as she slept dreamlessly.

The next morning, Ginny stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Thankfully, the Firewhiskey had had no ill effects on her, and for the first time in years, she was looking forward to starting the day. She greeted her mother and Bill with a cheery 'Good morning,' and took a seat opposite her big brother, reaching for the toast. Bill winked at her and grinned before returning to the confines of his Daily Prophet.

As Ginny ate, she noticed the title 'Ministry Captures Last of Death Eaters' emblazoned on its front page. The shock of knowing that the war was finally over, that there wasn't any real need to worry for her own safety stunned her. She tried to feel some sort of excitement and peace in response, but all she felt was a grim satisfaction and surprising emptiness. Remembering Bill's words from the night before, she finally rose from the table and willed herself to stop moping. Setting up a tray for George, she carefully made her way up the winding staircase to his room on the second floor.

Once again, he was lying on his side towards Fred's bed. This time, however, he turned his head and watched her as she carefully placed the tray on his bedside table. She noticed his haggard appearance, ruffled hair, and bloodshot eyes long before he mumbled, "Happen to have a Hangover Draught in there?"

Shaking her head at the memories of his drunkenness last night, Ginny looked down at the tray and found a small blue bottle of the potion sitting on it. Bill must have slipped it on the tray as she was leaving the kitchen. She uncorked it and handed it to him.

George finished it in one long gulp, and flopped back on his bed as the potion began to take its effect. Once he was feeling better, he gave her a small grin and said sheepishly, "Sorry 'bout last night. Should've stopped you."

Ginny rolled her eyes and grinned as she assured him, "I'm fine. I was just a wee tipsy - didn't even have a hangover this morning."

"Right," he breathed in relief. "Did Mum make kippers?" he asked as he reached for the tray.

Rolling her eyes, Ginny sat on the edge of his bed and watched him eat. She wasn't quite sure why he was eating with such gusto, but she was too afraid she'd ruin it by asking about it. Instead, she began, "The rest of the Death Eaters have been caught, you know. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning."

George stopped eating and stared at his plate, contemplating this bit of news. Finally, he asked, "All of them?"

"Yes," Ginny replied, wondering what he was thinking.

"Blimey, it's about time," he muttered before he stuffed a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Silence filled the room as Ginny sat there and watched him finish the rest of her plate. Of all of the responses she'd expected from George, it hadn't been that. He was clearly trying to hide his real emotions by focusing on eating, but Ginny yearned to know what was really in his heart.

When he was full, he sipped his tea for another long stretch of silence. Finally, he shot her a quick glance and turned his eyes back to his cup. "Did Bill talk to you last night?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she answered, wondering where this conversation was headed.

"What did he say?"

"Told me to get my head out of my arse, learn from what happened, and move on with my life," she said as bluntly as she could.

George flinched momentarily at her honest answer, but he surprisingly stated, "He told me the same. Said that I needed to move on and all that rot."

Ginny watched his expressionless face carefully, hoping to get a hint of what he was feeling. However, George's eyes were focused on his empty teacup, as though he was afraid to look up and face her, or face the truth of Bill's words. Ginny's eyes were filled with sympathy as she whispered, "He's right, George. Fred wouldn't have wanted you to be like this; you and I both know it."

Looking again at Fred's bed, George said, "Can't be too sure, now can we? After all, he's not around to say it." He looked at her quickly, shooting her a shadow of his old, familiar grin, before his mood became sober again. "I'd do it, Ginny, in a heartbeat. But... I can't," he finished in a serious tone.

"Why not?" she asked with some exasperation. Ginny was certain that if she willing to move on, she'd be overjoyed about it.

He looked away from her again, as though ashamed to admit his reason. Whispering, he replied, "I'm afraid I'll forget him if I do. I still have Alicia and the business, not to mention pranks that I still ought to make. But I'll be so involved with them that I'll forget him." He sat up suddenly and stared her dead in the eye, stating flatly, "And I can't forget him, Ginny. If I do, who else will remember him?"

Ginny was a bit startled by his openness, but frowned in confusion as she answered, "You're not the only one who remembers him, George. He was my brother, and Bill's and Charlie's and Ron's. Bloody hell, he was Mum's son, and I doubt she'd ever forget him. She still hasn't given up on Percy!"

A sneer crossed his features at the mention of Percy, but George resolutely shook his and replied, "But none of you know him like I do. Or did. He was only your brother, Gin, but there was so much more to him than that. There are parts of him that you and Mum never knew about."

"Well, that's fine," Ginny replied understandingly. "Each of us remembers different parts of him, while you know the most of all. Together, I'd say we have a good chance of accurately remembering what he was like and keeping that memory alive, yeah?"

George pondered that for a moment before he grudgingly conceded, "S'pose you're right." Looking down at his lap, he added, "But it still feels wrong to just... move on."

"I know," she whispered, standing up to sit beside him on the bed. The dejection in his attitude and the guilt that he'd obviously been living with for the past few weeks were coming off of him in waves. Quietly slipping her hand in his, she gave it a gentle squeeze in reassurance. She felt rather powerless to help him in any way, but she understood how greatly George had felt Fred's death. They had been inseparable since they were born; at times, Ginny thought they'd had their own language. Certainly she'd been upset since Blaise's death, but she'd never experienced with him the love and companionship the twins had shared with each other.

Laying her head on his shoulder, Ginny knew that George's way wasn't the best way to mourn Fred. Hoping to give her brother some encouragement, she haltingly began, "I can't pretend to know how you feel, George. But I do know Fred wouldn't have wanted us to simply sit about. You remember - he was always doing something - it was usually a prank, and Ron and I were usually the victims," at this, she pinched him in the arm teasingly, "but he was always active. Wouldn't it be wrong to not carry on that memory as well?"

George turned to look at Fred's bed, and sat there for a few moments in silence. Ginny couldn't see his face in her position, but she knew that he was warring with himself about what to do. "You're right," he finally whispered brokenly, leaning his chin on the top of her head. "I should move on," he continued, as though convincing himself of that fact.

Ginny sat there breathlessly, wondering what his final decision would be. She was surprised, and rather chilled, when she heard him mutter under his breath, "After all, what else do I have to lose?"

Indeed, Ginny answered mentally, thinking of that cold room in Hogwart's Infirmary where dozens of bodies once lay, and the sight of Blaise's crumpled body at Draco's feet. What more does anyone have to lose?

Please Review!

Additional Notes: I don't really have much to say except for THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! You guys keep me very motivated, so thank you so much for it all. Also, thank you for your patience. The next chapter will be out shortly.

Just thought I'd also remind you that Ginny is still in her fifth year in this fic. Also, expect Draco to make an appearance in a couple of chapters!

If you'd like notices on when new chapters are loaded, join my Yahoo group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/w_e_l/. Hope to see you there soon!