Ginny sucked in a shaky breath, fighting the sob at the back of her throat. She had to make it back to her dormitory before she broke down. If anyone found her like this, especially Draco, it would mean the end of her façade, the spilling of her secret.

As if in a trance, she hurried up flights of stairs and around corners, the world seeming to blur through tears that refused to fall. Her breaths came faster and faster until they were only gasps, her chest heaving with pent-up sobs.

The common room was almost completely deserted, and no one paid her any mind as she flew up the staircase and into her dormitory. She lowered herself onto her bed, her lower lip wedged between her teeth to keep her from crying out. A single tear squeezed out and the dam was broken. She lay sobbing on her bed, unable to hold back either tears or memories any longer.

The grass was long and tickled her calves as she wound her way through the field, spinning under the gentle summer sun and letting her skirt fly up around her. The sky was such a breathtaking blue that she almost couldn’t bring herself to look at it, feeling undeserving in the face of such beauty.

Her long flaming hair had dried in waves after her swim in the lake, grazing her bare arms and soaking up the flawless rays of sun.

“I thought you might be out here,” a voice from behind her said.

She took another few twisting steps before looking back over her shoulder at him. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him in his swimming trunks, his shaggy hair still wet from his dive into the lake. He looked more alive than she had seen him all summer, his eyes those of a happy young man, content to laze about in the summer sun, rather than the tormented soul she knew him to be.

His strides were much more deliberate than hers, hurrying to catch up as she continued her meandering path through the flowers and soft blades of grass.

“They’re getting married tomorrow,” he remarked, falling into step beside her.

She nodded, gathering her hair up in her hands and letting it fall back down past her shoulders.

“Makes you think,” he continued, glancing sideways at her.

She gave him a small smile, letting him know that she wasn’t talking until he gave her a reason to.

There was a long silence, and she half expected him to tell her that he wished things were different, and that he was sorry, just as he had countless other times. But he instead reached down and plucked a sunflower from the ground, tucking it behind her ear in a simple, perfect gesture.

He reached for her hand, and in that moment, she lost herself, knowing she would give him whatever he wanted. His sun-dappled arms were wrapped around her; his fingers were in her hair, under her clothing, everywhere. It happened in a dizzying blur of touching and heat, but it somehow seemed to be more of a tragic goodbye than a new beginning.

As they lay in each other’s arms beneath the sinking sun, she felt entirely content to revel in the silence and wonder of their unbidden act. He leaned into her ear and whispered, “I love you,” shattering her starry-eyed marveling.

Time stopped, and she was shoved forward into something new and terrifying and completely unlike herself, forever unable to return to the way things were.

Draco left the once-flawless red rose, bloodstained and wilting, on the floor behind the statue of Mnemone Radford, not bothering to heal the angry welts on his fingers as he strode toward his room, unable to breathe.

His mind, incapable of forming real thoughts, was overwhelmed by flashes of scenes: Ginny playing in the snow, his dying mother enveloped by sheets as white as her own skin, the bubbling laughter of carefree girl, lying beneath a sweltering summer sun in the arms of the world’s hero. He could see her as perfectly as if he had been there, as if he knew exactly what had happened. Draco gasped as a sharp pain shot through his chest.

This must be what dying feels like.

The door to his room was suddenly looming above him, and he whispered the password in between gasps for air. He collapsed onto the bed, unable to see anything but the darkness of his own eyelids.

He grasped the silver chain from his bedside, holding the cool metal against his skin, thinking of his dying mother. In September, she had been painfully thin and pale, her once-beautiful blonde hair thin and fading and her sunken eyes colorless and clear. Draco couldn’t bear to think how she must look now. How was it that Ginny had found out about her? Had Potter told her?

Damn you. Will you really stop at nothing to achieve your goal? The bastard was willing to go as far as to get Ginny—perfect, untouchable Ginny—to convince Draco to go with him.

But the longer his mind dwelled on his mother, the thought that he might actually have to go with Potter to save her became more firmly lodged in his brain.

With this realization, he felt his mind begin to form complete thoughts again, only to travel in circles of questions without answers. How could he leave Ginny behind? What secrets was Ginny hiding from him? His stomach dropped nauseatingly at the thought that maybe she didn’t love him, that she had never loved him. Maybe she had been in on a scheme with Potter the whole time. Bile rose in the back of Draco’s throat. What if that was true?

The longer he laid there, his mind traveling dizzyingly fast, the more plausible these thoughts seemed to Draco, until he could sink no lower in his despair and let his nightmares overtake him in sleep.

Overnight, the air in the castle seemed to have dropped twenty degrees. Ginny’s head already pounded from an oncoming cold, and to keep warm she wore Draco’s jumper and a cloak over her school uniform. A frigid gust swept through the mob of students, and Ginny drew her cloak tighter as she struggled through the crowd.

Her thoughts wandered to Draco, who she hadn’t seen at all the day before. When she had finally managed to drag herself out of her room, she hadn’t been able to find him anywhere. She ran her fingers over his initials on the inside of her sleeve to steady herself.

The crowd of hungry students came to a standstill, and Ginny sighed in frustration. Sniffling, she backtracked through her peers to take the longer route.

The second floor of the castle was deserted and drafty so early in the morning, but Ginny’s recently developed abilities allowed her to sense that someone was nearby. She peered over her shoulder, looking for the ruffle of an Invisibility Cloak, but saw none. When she turned around again, Draco stood in front of her.

Ginny felt her shoulders relax and her face break into a grin that reflected the explosion of happiness that she felt upon merely the sight of Draco. She reached up to hug him but faltered at his rigid stance and steely gaze.

“Draco, what’s-”

“The matter?” he cut in sharply. She winced, recalling countless memories of her earlier years at Hogwarts, when that had been the only tone he used with her. “I’m not up for games, Ginny.”

“What are you talking about?” she blurted, trying to get a sentence in before he exploded. Involuntarily, she took a step back, but realized her mistake when his eyes flashed dangerously.

“You’ve been lying to me,” he spat, a look of disgust so etched on his face that it made her heart ache.

“I haven’t-”

“Don’t!” he whispered, his voice disturbingly low and calm. “I don’t have time to listen to your lies about who you love and trust. I don’t want to hear your lies about Potter.”

Ginny could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She was terrified of the cold anger that smoldered in his eyes and the ugly words that poured from his mouth. What was he talking about? If Harry had approached him again, she would kill him for Voldemort. And yet…there was something in his tone that suggested a different cause for anger.

“Draco, I love y-”

“Don’t!” he shouted this time, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him. “Don’t you dare say it.” She looked up at his stormy eyes, trying to show him that he was wrong. But as she silently pleaded with him, she saw a tinge of gray spread into the blue, like watching the top of a lake freeze over. Her heart clenched at the sight of him withdrawing into himself, and she knew she would rather give him up to Harry than see him that cold again.

He shoved her from him, a mad look in those eerie eyes. Ginny stumbled, a sob escaping her throat. She saw his eyes widen but refocus instantly. She didn’t bother to hide her tears from him now. Raw desperation gripped her, and she gasped to steady her spinning head.

“I have never lied to you about who I loved. You knew Harry and I dated! You knew that! Why are you doing this?”

He glared at her. “You’re lying again, and I don’t have time for lies. My mother’s dying. But then, you already knew that.”

Ginny stopped breathing. How could he know? Harry wouldn’t have told him. He couldn’t have found out unless…unless he had heard them. Panic seized her. How this must look to him! She stared up at his darkening eyes, watching them freeze over. You did that to him.

“Draco, I didn’t-” she gasped.

“Didn’t think I’d find out about your little scheme? Well, you were wrong. But don’t worry; you’ve gotten what you wanted in the end. I’m leaving with Potter to save my mother, just like you planned. And you can be his princess in a tower. Forever.”

As he fixed a last cold look on her, her body shook violently. She tried to gasp out his name, but her lungs weren’t working, her mind wasn’t functioning. She crumbled to the floor, her cloak flying open. His eyes softened for a moment as they lingered on her jumper, before he turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor, leaving her to watch the only wizard that had ever really loved her disappear from her life forever.

Author notes: Sorry for the long wait, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one won't be out until after Deathly Hallows so we'll see how that all turns out. A big thank you to Embellished, my wonderful beta. And to fallenwitch for continuing to believe in me. And to all my readers, who stick with me as we plunder through. Please leave a review on your way out.