A Sixth Sense by Aurum_Dormio
Summary: *~*
What do you do when the man you cannot stand becomes the man you cannot resist?

When a certain young Death Eater enters the protection of the Burrow, love is not always what it seems. In fact, death itself is not a major issue: especially when Draco Malfoy becomes a vampire.

Some ideas inspired by BTVS. All related work to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Categories: Works in Progress Characters: Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Molly Weasley, Ron Weasley
Compliant with: HBP and below
Era: Hogwarts-era
Genres: Angst, Horror, Romance
Warnings: None
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: No Word count: 8406 Read: 7360 Published: Dec 10, 2007 Updated: Feb 18, 2008
Story Notes:
More chapters posted on HPFF. Check it out if you enjoyed this and simply cannot wait.

1. Chapter 1: Angel by Aurum_Dormio

2. Chapter 2: Surprise by Aurum_Dormio

Chapter 1: Angel by Aurum_Dormio
Author's Notes:
He's arrived beaten and bloody. Why?


The night sky was calm; there was not a cloud in sight. The moon was full like the lone silver eye of a giant while the stars were its brilliant freckles. The cloudless sky was slightly ominous and yet, it was quite peaceful. Sadly the same could not be said for the forest below.

A young redheaded girl was running through the dark wooden pillars. Every once in a while, she stopped and twisted around to glare into the pitch blackness. A light would explode some twenty feet away and she would dash off.

She dodged a red blast and threw herself behind a tree. Her hand shaking, she shoved her fiery locks over her shoulder. Her wand was shuddering almost as badly as she was: it had never been forced to shoot so many spells in such a short span of time. Behind her, she heard yells and shouts of curses and pain, not knowing whether it was her family screaming or Death Eaters crying out. Her mother had told her to run back to the house and she had not looked back since, only reaching back to fire spells at the oncoming attackers.

It was a beautiful day. She lay in an endless sea of wheat while her mother prepared the picnic on the hill above. Charlie, Bill, and Fleur were over by the ocean. Charlie was making the water dance and swivel and take on various shapes with his wand, while Bill glared at him in jealousy. Fleur squealed every time one of Charlie’s water-dogs came trotting over to her and licked her toe;, then Charlie would flick his wand again and it would take the shape of a dove. Fleur seemed to like that part the best because she would become beside herself with giggles.

“Ah, dear Phlegm, what an inspiration you are to all of us…” Ginny thought from the brush.

It was almost sunset and Ginny could feel excitement twitching beneath her skin: after the sun went down, the waves would become an almost eerie shade of green, the tips of the black sea licked with an electric hue. Ginny knew it was only the plankton being revolved back to the surface- her father had told her long ago. But it still chilled Ginny in a frightfully happy way.

It was definitely ethereal, but in some odd way it made her feel at peace. The next surreal phase of the sea at night was the moon’s reflection. The color of it was simply heart-stopping: it was the palest blue, gently stroked with gray and silver.

As the sun finally sank down below the golden horizon, Ginny sat up and smiled. She was momentarily stunned for Bill, Fleur and Charlie were gone from the sandy coast, but then she just supposed that they had gone somewhere else. She turned to say something to her mum, but realized she was gone too.

Ginny glanced around, fear now replacing the ecstasy in her chest. The wind tugged at her hair and seemed to be hissing something in her ear, but panic was blocking out all sound except the frantic beating of her heart.

The darkness was suddenly pressing in all around her and silence screamed in her head. She immediately drew her wand and at that moment, several dark figures in cloaks and masks twisted out of nowhere and formed a large circle around her. Just as they made their first steps toward her, three redheaded figures appeared, making a wall between Ginny and the Death Eaters and her mother quietly whispered over her shoulder.



Two Death Eaters were blown back and Ginny took off running.


There was a loud thump a few feet away, causing the redhead to jump. Her mind bolted back to the Encyclopedia of Spells Hermione had sent her as she pushed off from the tree and continued her scramble back to the Burrow.

Chapter 1- Angel:

The dark wooden fence was appearing around the bend as Ginny finally tore her way out of forest. She could still hear yelps behind her and the whiz of spells being shot off but if she stopped now, she might never make it.

The Burrow looked just as it always did, except with a few extremes. The shed out back had been enlarged to several sizes above normal, enough to accommodate a good number of people. The attic had been Engorged as well, making the house appear to have a giant blemish upon its face.

Ginny stumbled over the gravel road and heaved herself over the low fence. Panting and shivering, she smiled as she lay on the grass, trying to catch her breath that had evaded her for what seemed like hours. She drew a deep breath of relief; she was under the magical protection of the Burrow, and there was no way that the six or seven Death Eaters that had ambushed Ginny, her mother, Bill, Charlie, and Fleur at their picnic could ever possibly hope to find the Burrow, much less get into it. The armies of Hell itself would have trouble find it, or that’s what Mad Eye had said. Ginny bit her lip.

As she propped herself up with one arm, an old pain tickled her. It had been several months since Mad Eye Moody’s death, but her stomach always squirmed at the loss of such a brave warrior. She started to make her way up into the unbelievably secure house.

No one from inside the Burrow could Apparate out and vice versa. It was also impossible to Floo in and out of the Burrow except for a family member or the Secret Keeper. Only a blood family member of the Weasleys could Apparate twenty feet out from the wooden fence; everyone else had to Apparate about two hundred feet back. The location was hidden by a Secret Keeper (Kingsley Shacklebolt was the Burrow’s Secret Keeper- he was appointed by Dumbledore himself) and just from the size of Shacklebolt, it would take a lot to discover the location of the Burrow much less get into it. For there were thousands of other enchantments and spells laid around the grounds. It could be a safe bet to say that the Burrow had become almost as safe as Hogwarts, if it had still been running.

Yes, when Harry Potter and his friends left to hunt the Horcuxes, Hogwarts School had been shut down, only temporarily. It was nice not to be bothered by the massive amounts of seventh year homework, but it had kept her mind busy and away from other “people.”

As Ginny took her first steps, she realized she seriously underestimated the severity of her bruises and cuts. Her legs were wobbling beneath her and her left arm, bent at an odd angle, jolted with pain at every attempt to move it. She could feel warm blood streaming from the side of her head. As she approached the dimly lit house, she could see her jeans were badly torn, revealing jagged cuts all along her unstable legs. The adrenaline must have kept me numb to this, Ginny thought grimly.

She muttered the password, the locked clicked and the door swung open to the kitchen. For a moment she hung in the doorway, leaning against the frame and desperately trying to ignore the horrible stings that were constantly pinching her every muscle.

A twig suddenly snapped behind her, but Ginny wasn’t terribly worried: it was no doubt some family member returning.

“I know a Death Eater can’t get through the barrier the Order set up, but my conscience will eat away at me if my whole family dies because I didn’t ask an imposter the password,” Ginny croaked, her voice sounding just as haggard as she was, despite her dark humor. “So what is it?”

The person was in shadow, crawling on the grass as it made its way towards Ginny.

“If that’s you Bill, answer me. I know I should have asked the password the other night when I let you in, but this is no time to teach me a lesson.”

The figure continued to pull along and as they drew closer, Ginny noticed this figure was far too thin to be either of her older brothers, much less her mother.

“Phle- Fleur is that you?” Fear, closely followed by panic was inching its way into Ginny’s chest. She swallowed and tried to keep calm. She shifted around to face the figure, her body twinging with every motion. “I know you can understand that much English so answer me…”

It said nothing, but finally spilled into the light that was coming from the house. At first, Ginny was momentarily relieved to see pale blonde hair, assuming it was her soon-to-be-sister-in-law, but a sallow face and silver eyes followed the blonde hair.

All pain and injury forgotten, Ginny lunged out a hand. She grabbed the scruff of the blonde hair and threw the person inside. She pinned the body to the wall, her wand pressed against its cheek.

“So,” she growled. “Killed anyone lately?” Pulling up the platinum blonde hair so her nose and his pale nose almost touched, she was face to face with Draco Malfoy.


“I…I… am unarmed…” he gasped, his eyes half closed. He was in obvious pain.

“Strike one, pretty boy,” Ginny sneered.

“I… have… information… about…the Dark Lord…” Malfoy wheezed.

“Strike two. One more and you’re out…” Ginny glowered. Malfoy looked back up at her. He seemed to be regaining strength.

“Alright fine…” he sighed, an odd spark of impatience flickering in his eyes. “I know… the whereabouts of your boyfriend… Potter, and his friends…”

Ginny felt an ice cub slip into her stomach. “Are they alive?”

Malfoy let out a low chuckle. “Are you going to keep me alive if I tell you?”

Ginny scowled. She slammed his head against the wall by the chunk of his hair and let him fall to the ground. He let out a soft moan, but Ginny paid no heed as she searched his pockets, his socks- every where that could hide some sort of wand or weapon. She found no wand, but she did find three Dungbombs, a sack of gold coins, and a bag of vials that seemed to be filled with blood.

Ginny wrinkled her nose at the vials.

“These have the blood of your victims in them?” She raised the pouch at him disdainfully and threw it into the pile of other items she had retrieved. She was quite amazed she had found so much in his black jeans, but what surprised Ginny the most was that he was wearing Muggle clothes, or the remains of Muggle clothes. His collared long sleeved black shirt was torn along the neckline and his jeans had gaping holes in them at the knees. To a regular Muggle, he would have looked to be some sort of punk criminal, but Ginny knew it was for him to hide in the shadows. But why did he have to hide in the first place?

She crouched down beside him and grabbed the tuff of his hair again.

“If you are telling the truth, then you get to live. If you’re lying… well then, I’m sure you know the rest…”

“How do you know if I’m lying or not right now?” Malfoy chuckled. She clunked him against the wall again.

“Bloody hell, how many more times are you going to do that?”

“Until you give me a straight answer…”

His silver eyes narrowed, but he just rolled them. “Fine, I’m telling you the truth.”

She slammed his head again.

“Damn it woman! I thought you said you weren’t going to do anymore!” Malfoy exclaimed, truly getting angry.

“I said I wanted the truth, not some lame-ass excuse to save your own hide…”

His nostrils flared and his jaw tightened. “I swear to God that I’m telling you the truth. And if that’s not good enough for you, then I swear on your precious Harry Potter that I’m not lying…”

Ginny’s scowled darkened and once again she knocked his blonde head against the wall. But she leaped up and stormed over to the couch.

“What the HELL? I’m telling you the whole truth!” Malfoy reached up and gingerly rubbed the back of his head.

“I know. I just wanted to hit you…” Ginny’s smile was smug. “And Harry and I aren’t together anymore…” She added quietly. But, unfortunately, Malfoy heard. His mood perked up at once.

“Oh dear, is scar-head coming up short? I knew he couldn’t be ‘brilliant’ at Quidditch and be good in the sack – OW!”

Ginny had Malfoy up against the wall by his throat, her wand shoved under his chin.

“Shut up, now, before I decide to flambé your face right here.” Her words were lower than whispers.

“You don’t have the stones…” He whispered back. There was a brief silence, then a bright spark and a yelp of pain. When the light cleared, there was an open cut streaked along Malfoy’s cheek. Blood trickled down his face and onto Ginny’s clenched fingers.

“Fine, I’ll keep quiet about you and Potty, just let me go…”

Ginny released him and he fell again to the floor. She turned away from him. A dark silence followed.

“So where are the rest Weasel clan-”


Malfoy fell over, his hands and feet tied up in ropes. His mouth was bound by a piece of cloth but his eyes were swimming with suppressed rage and spoke volumes. Ginny knelt down by him again and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

“First of all, it’s the Weasley clan, Wea-sl-ey. Second of all, it’s none of your bloody business. And third, just for the love of God, shut up!” She threw him back down and he immediately started to struggle against the ropes.

“You ought not to do that,” Ginny said absentmindedly. “I’ll just make the bonds tighter.” She flicked her wrist towards the trapped Malfoy. He let out a muffled groan as the cords grew smaller. He stopped squirming.

Ginny sat down on the couch and grabbed the junk she had hauled out from Malfoy. She began making motions over the items with her wand, trying to make them reveal any hidden curses.

“Now let me have some peace as I go through your stuff.”


It was a good five minutes when there were cracks of a few people Apparating and then deep breaths. Ginny threw down the junk unceremoniously and hid it under the coffee table. Malfoy gave her a scathing look from his corner.

“Quiet, you…” Ginny muttered. She didn’t exactly plan what she would say to her family when they returned to a house with a captive Death Eater inside. Perhaps she should wait for the right moment.

Ginny glanced around the room…and her eyes fell upon the large cupboard. She narrowed her eyes at Malfoy, who immediately began to shake his head in protest. Ginny flicked her wand and the doors flew open, then she swished her wand again and he skidded into the cupboard.

Ginny leaped up, then crumbled slightly: after her encounter with Malfoy, her adrenaline level had gone back down and the pain had returned. She hobbled over to the door and pulled it back slightly.

“Who’s there?” she muttered. She didn’t hear an answer, only wheezing. Finally a breathless voice answered.

“It is I, your mother, Molly Weasley… and you became potty-trained at the age of… five…” A plump, stout woman came into the light, but her bright red hair made her the most recognizable.

Ginny turned scarlet and opened the door to allow her mother to totter inside, but immediately closed it again to a crack.

“And the rest of you –,”

“Don’t worry…,” her mother heaved from the couch. “I already checked them all, they’re clean…”

Ginny opened the door once again and the two other Weasleys and Fleur trudged inside. Charlie immediately fell into a love-seat and Bill, half carrying Fleur, spilled onto the other couch. They sat there, panting and gasping for a minute before Ginny leaped up and rushed over to the sink to fill up glasses of water.

After they were distributed, Ginny sat down again, a tense bubble forming in her chest.

“Um… Mum, there’s something I need –,”

“Did any Death Eaters follow us back?” Charlie suddenly barked. He had pressed the ice cold glass to his forehead and was wearily glancing over to his mother. Bill was now patting Fleur’s clammy head as he cradled her in his arms. She seemed barely conscious.

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t. And even if they did, there’s no way they could get in through the barrier. Dumbledore himself put them up.”

The thought of Malfoy sitting in a dark closet was suddenly pushed from her mind as she remembered the attack.

“Follow you from where?” Ginny asked.

“We’ve been Apparating around that forest every minute for the past hour, trying to lead them off the scent so you could get home.” Bill answered. He still didn’t look up from his bride. Off Ginny’s worried and questioning look, he said:

“She was hit by a fairly strong Stunning spell. She’s been like this for over an hour.” His brown eyes were dark from sadness and anger.

Mrs. Weasley got up and patted her eldest son’s back.

“She’ll be fixed in no time.” She gave a reassuring smile then went over to the sink and gently wetted a cloth. She returned and handed it to Bill, who then applied the cloth to Fleur’s forehead.

“It would be better if you were a hundred percent sure that they didn’t follow us, Mother,” Charlie said pointedly. “It would be a hell of a way to go, if we all died because we didn’t have the strength to save ourselves and the Death Eaters won without a fight…”

“Speaking of Death Eaters…”

“Fine, Charlie, yes I’m a hundred percent sure!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. She threw a glare at her son but then her attention returned to Fleur. She took out her wand and traced her face. Whereever the wand touched Fleur’s skin, there was a faint trail of blue light that would quickly disappear. She repeated this until Fleur opened her eyes…

“Bill… w’ere iz my Bill?” She whispered. He scooped her up and hugged her tightly.

“I’m right here.” He kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Mum. But she still needs to rest, so we’re going to head up to bed.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded but Charlie merely grunted, his face showing deep thought. After the couple disappeared up the staircase, Charlie leaped to his feet.

“Dad needs to know about this attack…” He muttered. “See you two in the morning…”

“DRACO MALFOY IS IN THE CLOSET!” Ginny suddenly screamed. A hand flew over her mouth. Charlie froze in mid step and Mrs. Weasley turned white. She slowly got to her feet and went over to the large cupboard, asking no questions and seeming to believe that her daughter was telling the truth about the fact that the son of a known Death Eater was in the Burrow.

“In here?” she whispered. Ginny, also a ghostly white, nodded. Mrs. Weasley turned the handle and Draco Malfoy tumbled out of the closet. Her mouth dropped to the ground. The gash caused by Ginny’s curse had gotten worse and now the blood had stained his shirt. His eyes were wide with fear as he stared at the dumbstruck Mrs. Weasley, but they flickered to fury as he glanced at Ginny, who didn’t seem to believe that Draco Malfoy sat tied before her.

Charlie suddenly let out an incensed roar. In three strides, he had grabbed Malfoy by his black collar and shoved him against the wall, much like Ginny did, but when Charlie did it, the whole house shook. He whipped out his wand and it glowed green.

“How the hell did scum like you get in?” Charlie hissed. He waved his wand and the cloth around Malfoy’s mouth disappeared.

“I need help,” he gasped.

“Damn right, once I’m done with you…” He waved his wand again and the cloth appeared again.

“Charlie, wait!” Ginny gasped. She was shaking and her face was a horrible sallow color. “He… uh, knows Voldemort’s plans. And where…Harry is, where Hermione is. Where Ron…” She glanced at her mother: the mention of Ron’s name had recently caused her to close her eyes for a long while as though she was in pain, but not tonight.

Mrs. Weasley just continued to stare, with her mouth agape and her eyes, hardly believing what they saw.

“What could this little whelp know that the Order doesn’t?” Charlie growled. Malfoy closed his eyes and leaned back his head. “He’s a Death Eater for God’s sake. We should kill him where he stands.”

“Exactly… he is a Death Eater and they’ve been tracking Harry for weeks, and unfortunately they seem to have an idea of where they are…”

Charlie’s vibe to kill was still rolling off in waves.

“Look, Charlie, please do this for me. I have to know where Harry and Ron and Hermione are. They’re my friends and I’m terrified…” Ginny said quietly. Malfoy opened one eye. Charlie shook him again. Ginny walked up to her brother and put a small hand on his broad shoulder. “Please Charlie… for me?”

Charlie scowled and threw Malfoy to the ground, then stormed off out of the kitchen. In a matter of seconds, the “Charlie” hand on the family clock was on “traveling.”

“I… I suppose we ought to make you a bed…” Mrs. Weasley said quietly. She seemed to be on another planet entirely.

“No, Mum, its okay… you go to bed and I’ll deal with this. You seem to be in shock,” Ginny said and she pushed her mother toward the stairs. Mrs. Weasley began to totter up to her room.

“Yes… shock… bed…” They heard her mutter. Malfoy raised his eyebrows at Ginny, who scowled and grabbed him by the ropes, pulling him onto his feet. She scooped up his items and jabbed him harshly in the back with her wand.

“Get walking… you’ll be sleeping in the attic. No one’s been using it since Lupin and Tonks moved out.”

They climbed the staircase up and up to the very top of the house where they came to a landing with no more stairs and no doors or windows. The ceiling was low enough for a young adult to touch. Ginny reached up and pushed one of the ceiling’s tiles. Suddenly, a wooden ladder clumsily jetted out of the hole in the roof.

Malfoy gave her a scathing look again but she just prodded him with her wand again and he trudged up the latter.

Ginny flicked her wand and the room was alit by candlelight. She muttered a long incantation and the tip of her wand emitted a purple ring that circled the room.

“Now you can’t leave unless someone wants to get you out…”

Even through the cloth, Ginny could see the old Malfoy sneer. She shoved him backwards onto a bed. She waved her wand and the bonds disappeared. He gasped as he rubbed his wrists.

“Mum will be up here in the morning to clean up that cut and if I hear any word of complaining from you, I will personally kick your ass out of this house. Got it?” Ginny scowled. She pointed her wand at the end of the bed and a plate filled with sausage, bread and potatoes appeared. A goblet of water appeared on the bed side table.

There was a gruesome silence.

“Thanks –”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfy. Half the Order will be back up here tomorrow to question you, so rest up. Can’t have you falling asleep during the interrogation, now can we?” Ginny pulled open the trap door and had put her foot on the first step when Malfoy spoke again.

“No- thanks for sticking up for me back there, against your brother. I’m really not ready to die…”

Ginny felt an awkward heat creeping up her spine but immediately shook it back down.

“Why were you here, anyway? And how could you get through?” she suddenly asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

He didn’t immediately answer, but stared pointedly at the ground. “You were the closest Wizarding inhabitant and I needed…” His eyes jerked back up at Ginny, cold and harsh again. “Look, I’m sure you’ll find out all you need to know tomorrow after your mates overload me with Veritaserum. It’s not like you were my first choice...like I’d ever come to the Weasley’s by preference…” he added airily.

That oddly stung.

“It wasn’t for you, by the way,” Ginny said harshly. “I was doing it only for Harry’s sake.”

“I thought you broke up…”

She froze. “That doesn’t mean I don’t still love him.”

And with that, she slammed the trapdoor closed.


She rubbed her cheek, her palm becoming increasingly wet. Finally, the violent spasms of her body and the horrible downpour of tears forced her to sit down on the bed so her crying could finish its course. It had been more than a year, yet it still hurt like scorching fire. It was true, what they said: love burns and consumes. But what they conveniently left out is that love burns and consumes until there’s nothing left but blackened ashes.

After fighting the tears as she made her way back to her room and then stashing Malfoy’s items under her bed, Ginny decided to brush her hair to keep her mind busy. It did not work as well as she hoped.

Ginny threw her hair brush down: there was no use in attempting to bring her mind away from Harry. And if she continued to viciously swipe the wooden brush down her hair, she would soon become bald. It had been longer than a year since Harry had broken up with her, and now today, with everything that happened, sensations returned.

With Harry’s former arch-nemesis sleeping a floor above her, the memories were not only filled, with peaceful walks down by the Black Lake, there were flashes of Harry’s bravery and righteousness against not only Malfoy but Voldemort himself. This caused an onslaught of thoughts and feelings about what Harry and his friends were doing at this very moment, causing Ginny to hug her knees and wrap a quilt around her shoulders like a straight jacket. She laid down.

Her chest heaving and her face drenched, she closed her eyes, but not in an attempt to sleep. She was just merely trying to stem the flow. She could have laid there for a good five hours and the tears wouldn’t stop. But suddenly, there was a cold brush of air and Ginny gasped. She sat up and stared around her room, the cold air intoxicating her body. There was nothing out of the ordinary; the dresser was in the corner while her floor-to-ceiling window looked out on the orchard. Moonlight trickled in, covering the floor in a silver dust.

Ginny gasped again. Though it was colder than ice, the air was somehow oddly comforting. It was stiffening every muscle, but yet it made her calm and relaxed. Feeling strangely sleepy, she lay down and closed her heavy eyelids. Just as her mind fell into dark, waiting dreams, she felt a second presence in the room. She slipped into the hands that were waiting beneath her.

No fear came wiggling into her, no panic that a complete and utter stranger had just entered her room. Her mind and body had become slightly catatonic with no other feeling but peace and serenity. In fact, when Ginny put her head down onto the stranger’s chest and fell quite contently to sleep, she completely accepted the fact that someone was stroking her cheek with long, cold fingers.
Chapter 2: Surprise by Aurum_Dormio
Author's Notes:
Guess who Ginny's lusting after now?
Chapter 2- Surprise:

Ginny woke up the next morning panting, as though she had run for miles on end. The constant sobbing from last night had sufficiently drained her. The dark memories returned and as she staggered off the bed, she remembered that there was a possibly dangerous fugitive a story above her.

Her white-walled room seemed to be glowing with heavens rays this morning. The sun itself wore a smile. Ginny threw a glare at everything that provided hope, silently screaming at it to suddenly turn black or be struck with lighting from the dark cloud that had encased her.

She scowled and went to brush her hair and teeth in the bathroom that lay at the end of the hallway. Blue and while tiles patterned the floor and pale blue wallpaper wrapped itself snuggly around the walls. The right wall was covered in a mirror and below it hung the white sink. But she did not immediately pick up the toothbrush; instead she stared aimlessly at the mirror.

A pale, tear-streaked face glared at her with watery brown eyes. The bright red hair hung down, creating a sort of shield between the ghostly pale face and the vivid hair. He loved that hair the best: he had told her many times. And possibly, he would never see that hair again, yet she would live with it everyday, knowing how much he wanted to touch it but never be able to.

Her hands suddenly dove for a drawer beside the mirror. She ripped it open and frantically dug around until she pulled out a pair of silver scissors. New tears rushing down her face, Ginny grabbed a lock of her hair and snipped through. The scarlet strand of hair quietly fell to the ground, but it felt so ominous. The brown eyes saw the jagged cut-off where her hair only reached her chin line. Something stirred inside and again, Ginny sheared off more hair.

Twenty minutes later, Ginny emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her wet body and her newfound haircut dripping.


Ginny made her way down to the kitchen, fully dressed but her hair tucked up into a hat. She wasn’t exactly ready to show the world her drastic change. Her mother was already making breakfast in a seemingly happy mood. She was whistling an old English folk song as she moved back and forth between the pancake batter and the omelets.

“Morning, Ginny, dear…” She sang cheerfully.

Ginny simply waved in greeting.

“You know, I had the funniest dream last night,” Mrs. Weasley giggled. She finished pilling Ginny’s plate with omelets and pancakes, poured a glass of pumpkin juice and handed the breakfast to her youngest daughter. “Somehow Draco Malfoy had gotten past the barriers last night and he’s up stairs right now…”

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. “Funny dream, huh?”

Ginny stared down at the pancakes: they seemed to be mocking her with their square eyes and over-pouring syrup tears. “It would be, Mum, except it did happen. Malfoy’s upstairs bound by a curse, and probably awaiting breakfast. Charlie no doubt alerted the entire Order and half of Hogwarts that he’s here, so they’ll be getting here any minute now.”

Ginny said this with such authority and doubtlessness, her mother just sighed and scowled. “So he’s really up there?”

When Ginny nodded, Mrs. Weasley waved her wand and a medicine kit appeared on the counter. Nodding towards the stairs, Mrs. Weasley began to climb. Ginny, scowling as darkly as ever, snatched up the uneaten plate of food and grudgingly followed her mother.


Ginny violently pushed open the trap door and finished her climb up.

“Room service,” she called darkly.

Malfoy was lying on the bed, staring up blankly at the ceiling. He glanced over and immediately leaped up.

“You got something to eat?” he barked.

“Not for you,” Ginny glowered, her eyes narrowing. She wasn’t in the mood for being polite. Malfoy scowled back and sat back down on the bed, his arms crossed.

“Ginny…give him…the food…” Mrs. Weasley’s voiced wavered up from below the trap door. She sounded out of breath. Ginny looked over at Malfoy, who was sneering at the door. His face immediately gave away his thoughts: the words “too fat” and “too old” were obviously on his mind. Her face bright red, Ginny shoved the plate into his hands and almost shattering it in the process: his chest was as hard as rock and the force behind the plate was almost enough to crush it.

His eyes swarmed over it and he brought it close to his face. It was almost as though he was sniffing it for something. He suddenly wrinkled his nose.

“Anything to drink?”

“Be happy… you got that…” Mrs. Weasley panted from behind them. Malfoy’s silver eyes narrowed.

“Well fine… are you the first round? Are you going to administer the first douse of Veritaserum?”

“No, we’re here to fix you up. You were crawling last night and if you’re too fragile to answer questions, then what are you worth? Now sit down and be quiet…” Ginny answered before her mother could. She sighed and pulled off her hat. Helping her mother sit down on an old chair, she then snatched the medicine kit away and approached Malfoy.

As she finally got close to him, she noticed the extent of his cuts and bruises. His face was covered in small purple and green spots and the cut from Ginny’s curse had dried, blood caked all over. There was a twinge of guilt and embarrassment that she had overacted and cursed him so harshly, yet when she saw his up-turned lip and better-than-thou glare, she roughly grabbed either side of his cheeks. Then she gasped: it was like sticking her hands in frozen water. The glare turned comical.

“Are you going to fix me up or are you going to feel me up?”

Ginny jerked his head down. “I’m looking for cuts on your head… or lice…” He gave her another look. After spreading apart his hair, she found no blood. She then grabbed his cheeks again and moved his head up and down, making sure his neck and spine were in working order.

Then her hands moved for his neck and peeled down his collar.

“Hey!” He yelped and leaned back. “None of that!” Ginny rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

“Oh come on, it’s just your neck. I need to see if there is any bruising or swelling. God knows what my brother did to you. It’s not like I’m asking you to remove your pants…”

Malfoy sneered as she returned to inspecting his neck. “Bet you’d love that…”

“What was that, hostage?”

“Nothing… but I do love the hair…”

Now Ginny desperately wished to have her old hair length again so she could hide the scarlet blush that was inflaming her cheeks. Harry was the only one that was supposed to like “the hair.” But the blush evaporated when she saw the scars along his neck. They were a milky white and both in a circular shape, but in different places. One was low, near his shoulder, while the other was directly above it, about an inch higher. It looked as though something had skewered his neck.

“You’re pet dog is not so friendly?” Ginny asked sarcastically. Malfoy’s eyes darkened but he said nothing.

Ginny reached into the medicine kit and took out a quill and paper. She recorded the site, length and size of the scar. Malfoy eyed it carefully.

“What’s that for?”

“I’m taking notes, for future reference…” He still seemed doubtful. But it wasn’t Ginny’s job to care. “Now take off your shirt…”

“What?” Malfoy retreated.

“I told you, I need to check everywhere…”

The silver eyes darted down. “Not there…you prat…”

“But what if my legs are broken?”

“You’ll live. And if you make another crack like that, I’ll be sure they are… now take your shirt off…” Ginny said again, heat creeping up again.

Malfoy shrugged and pulled his black shirt over his head. Ginny immediately dove into the medicine kit, desperate to keep her eyes away. “Hey Mum, want to help me over here-?”

She had heard rumors of the Draco Malfoy beach body, but she had never figured they were true. But they were oh-so-definitely true.

There was a loud snort and Ginny twisted around to see over her shoulder: her mother was fast asleep. She glanced over at the top-less Malfoy reproachfully. He had placed his hands over his head and had lain down on the bed. He was looking quite smug. “Are you going to make me all better or what?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed. She took out her wand and some gauze and sat down on the side of the bed.

Her heart stumbled up into her throat and she grabbed his right wrist, keeping her eyes only on the gauze and the wand. She didn’t even see this much on Harry…

Come on, just look up once. That’s all you need. Just one peek.

Ginny could feel the heat raging inside her, desperate for a way to get out.

I wonder if his chest is as cold as his face. I am the Healer here, maybe one quick touch.

She bit her lip, her hand twitching as she gently rubbed his fingers.

It looks so hard… and chiseled. He definitely works out…

She pressed along all his main nerves, continuously checking for any sign of injury. Since he let out no gasps of pain, she continued up his forearm, gently rubbing along the ice cold statue. Soon, it wasn’t as hard to ignore his bare chest: whenever she did medical checkups, it always relaxed her.

The summer after Sirius Black died, her mother had taken up the job of teaching her youngest daughter in the ways of medicine and healing potions. It had been merely as a precaution at first, but Ginny soon discovered she had a knack in the medical world. With Burrow as some sort of safe house, and as the casualties continued to pile up, the need for well-trained Healers was becoming more and more apparent.

“Ow!” Malfoy yelped and cringed. Ginny was brought back from her trance when the marble arm suddenly drew away. She had reached his shoulder and when she touched his bruised collar, he immediately retreated.

“Ok, I think we found our first broken bone…” Ginny muttered. “Now lie back down, and try to relax…”

Malfoy slipped back down, distrust etching his face. Ginny laid a gentle hand on his collarbone again and slowly moved around. About half way down the bone, he gasped again. Nodding to herself, Ginny took out the gauze again. She then reached into the kit and pulled out a light green bottle. She poured out the bottle’s contents onto her hands, rubbed them together and softly moved her hands over the bone.

“This is a healing cream. It’ll make the healing process go faster…” she muttered.

Ginny then unwound the gauze and wrapped it across his shoulder and down to his waist. She waved her wand and the cloth stayed in place.

“All better…” She smiled and glanced up. Soft blue eyes were grinning at her and the paleness surrounding the eyes only made them stand out more.

“You’re very good with your hands…” said a smooth voice from somewhere far away. Ginny only nodded. She just continued to stare into the bottomless oceans.


They just never ended.


The color was simply heart-stopping; it was the palest blue, gently stroked with gray and silver.

Something cold touched her hand and she jerked. Malfoy had nudged her, giving her an odd look at the same time.

“Weasley, are you in there?”

“What? Oh yeah… I’m fine…” But inside, her stomach was churning. Something suddenly clawed at her and urged her to grab the beautiful blonde head and kiss it senselessly.

Ginny gulped. That was wrong, she thought, very wrong. What would Harry think? He was a Malfoy, not to mention a Death Eater. Perhaps it was some sort of Death Eater mind control… but then why was her heart screaming something different? She could not be in the same room with him now that he had control over her.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her when she stood up and took out her wand again. Ginny pointed it at him and suddenly he glowed, a green light encasing him, then there was a purple light over three ribs (which were very visible). The green glow disappeared.

“So does that mean I’ve got something hairy growing in my gut?” Malfoy asked sarcastically. Ginny did an odd movement between shaking her head and shrugging. She silently pointed to the gauze again and then to Malfoy’s rib cage. They tied themselves snuggly to his chest then glued themselves together.

The blue eyes looked back at her, only this time sarcastic humor was dancing around.

“If you could have done that, then why did you spend time giving me a massage?”

“I’m not very good at that spell. I didn’t want to accidentally strangle you…” Ginny muttered quietly as she began to shove all the materials back into the kit. She then pushed her mother awake. Mrs. Weasley snorted and glanced wearily from the bewildered and topless Malfoy on the bed, to her anxious daughter.

“I need to go clean the dishes right?”


“Right, great… bye. I’ll put the medicine away and Malfoy’s all patched up. You go back to bed…” And without another word, Ginny dashed back down the trap door.


She scrubbed and she scrubbed. She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. Yet nothing could remove the dark spot on the plate. Why was it being so stubborn? It was just a spot after all, so why couldn’t it just go away? And why did it have to get attached to this plate? Why this certain plate where there were two other spots that were madly in love, but one was just away for a little bit? Why couldn’t it just leave and be a good little spot? And why did this spot have to be so damn attractive??

“ARGH!!” Ginny cried. She threw down the plate and it shattered into a thousand pieces. She stood there, panting, clutching either side of the sink.

“It’s just a spot, Gin, no need to worry about that…” Mrs. Weasley came down stairs, yawning.

“Mother, you need to go to bed. You fell asleep –“

“I know, I know. I’m just going to get a drink, then I’m off. No need to worry. I guess your mother is just not as able to stay up as late as she once could, eh?” Her mother chuckled. “And really, it’s just a spot on a plate, nothing to get violent about. What’d that plate ever do to you, anyway?” She laughed again.

“It’s unbelievably gorgeous…” Ginny muttered.

“What, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked brightly. She had finished filling up her glass and was headed back up the stairs.

“Nothing Mum, you just take your nap. I think I can keep the hostage a hostage while you’re asleep…” Ginny smiled, while her mother and finished her walk up the stairs. The minute she had gone, Ginny grabbed the medicine kit from under the sink and sprinted up the back stairs.

In her room, Ginny snatched out the notebook and quill. It would be much easier for her to finish her notes if the subject wasn’t there, so she wouldn’t be tempted to… recheck her work. She came to her page where she had made the first notes about the scar. On the top, she wrote Draco Malfoy, Death Eater Captive. Her hand bent down again to write Beautiful Eyes, but her mind screamed at her and she stopped. She threw a worried look at the floor. Damn it…

She mentally shook herself and returned to her notes:

• Scar marks along neck- Two: one above far back collarbone, one directly over first. Resembles puncture marks. Cause:

Ginny decided to leave that part blank: she truly had no idea what could cause such an odd scarring.

• Treatment: No need for apparent attention.

Her stomached flipped and her heart leaped to her throat again and she wrote the next two injuries.

• Broken collarbone, point of impact: near scars. Cause:
Treatment: Madame Zacks healing ointment, three layers of gauze.
• Three broken ribs, point of impact: Top left, top right down. Cause:
Treatment: Madame Zacks healing ointment, four layers of gauze.

Now, see, that wasn’t too horrible, Ginny thought. Not too many thoughts…

Malfoy’s cold, bare chest popped up in her mind, and Ginny groaned. She threw her notebook and quill to the ground and buried her head in her pillows.

“Go away…” she muttered.

There was a scratching sound and Ginny just shoved the pillows deeper into her ears.

“I said go away!!”

There it was again: it was alien, but it stirred something in her mind. She sat up and faced her window. The owl hooted again as the snow-white feathered animal bobbed up and down. Ginny flew off the bed and wrenched open the window.

The owl gracefully swooped in and landed on her bed side table.

“Do you have news from Harry?” Ginny asked quickly as she crossed the room to reach Hedwig. The owl hooted dolefully and stuck out its leg.

Being as careful as she could with such shaking hands, Ginny unwove the letter from her leg. Hedwig then flew up to her dresser, where she had caught the scent of some old Owl Treats.

Ginny gulped and sat down on her bed and uncouthly opened the letter. It read:

My red-head,

It’s great where we are. We’ve finally stopped at a town, so I could write to you. Our fuzzy-headed friend –

Fuzzy-headed friend? Ginny sat there puzzled for a moment until she realized he was talking about Hermione.

-has been driving us constantly. But it’s good we’re here together, I would have gone home weeks ago if it wasn’t for this friend. I was just bored, so I decided to write to you… hope everything’s good. Hopefully see you soon.


Ginny frowned, and flipped over the letter. There was nothing there but blank parchment. It was undoubtedly the shortest letter Harry had ever sent her. Perhaps Hermione was coming and he had to hurry. Or maybe, they were just about to go traveling again and he had to wrap up what could have been a long and decent letter. Ginny nodded inwardly to herself: that had to be it.

But no matter what she said to herself, it could not shake off the horrible feeling that this was going to be the longest letter he was going to send for a while. Swallowing the large knot that was crushing her throat, Ginny reached into her drawer and pulled out some parchment and a quill.


She began, but then immediately stopped. How could she explain that his childhood arch-nemesis was only a few feet away, and the reason why he wasn’t dead was because of her? If not to tell him the most currents events, then she could ask him how he dared write such a short letter when she stayed awake day and night worrying about his well being. But she sighed and returned to her letter.

Everything’s fine here. I’m enjoying the break, now that school has been shut down for awhile. Mum has taught me about the magical medical world and surprisingly I’m quite good. We had a picnic yesterday, down by an ocean and it was beautiful. It reminds me of the many times we walked together.

Hoping see you soon.

-The one and only

Making sure the letter didn’t give any locations away, Ginny smiled and sealed up the letter. She stood up on the edge of the dresser to reach Hedwig.

“You can send this to Harry in the morning, but I’m sure you’ll want to rest. I’ll go see if we have any more Owl Treats, but don’t hoot, okay? I don’t want people to know you’re here. I think I might get in trouble if they knew Harry and I were corresponding.”

Hedwig dipped her large, white head and Ginny jumped back down and headed down stairs. She returned in a matter of minutes, several bags of Owl Treats tucked into her jacket pocket. Ginny opened a few and scattered them around Hedwig, then poured some water from the bathroom into a small ceramic bowl and placed it next to the owl.

“There, girl,” she said. “That should keep you happy for a while.” The owl hooted quietly and began to eat, occasionally slurping down some water.

Ginny smiled and returned to her bed. She flopped down and grabbed Harry’s letter off the bed side table. She reread it again and suddenly there was a gust of air from the open window. Ginny suddenly inhaled the sweet smell of Harry’s skin. She had always wondered whether it was his soap or he just smelled that way and secretly she preferred to think of it as his normal scent.

She lay there, remembering everything about Harry, from his rugged hair to his smooth skin. Her heart slowed down and she cringed. She rolled over and did not fight the tears this time.
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