Heart of a Shadow

Heart of a

Shadow

Chapter One: In Your Dreams

"All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream."

Edgar Allan Poe

***

Draco Malfoy woke in the dead of night. He had fallen out of bed again. His head was lying on the cold stone floor, his body tangled up in the silk bed sheets. Draco placed his palm against his forehead wearily and found that it was sweaty again. He untangled himself from the suffocating silk sheets and could finally stand up.

What was keeping him awake this time? He closed his eyes and tried to remember every detail of his nightmare. This one had been more vivid than the others. Slowly, painfully, everything came back to him.

He was in a well-lit room, somewhere familiar, yet unknown. He could hear voices, but the room was empty...or at least he thought it was. Draco made out the outline of a tall man sitting somewhere between light and shadow. And when he spoke, his voice rang with anger, like a black bell of death.

"Draco Marvolo Malfoy, you have been accused of betraying the rules of the Death Eaters' circle. What do you have to say in your defence?"

Slowly, Draco raised his head and finally realised that he wasn't alone: tall, masked figures, in long black robes were sitting in a circle around him, blocking any way of escape. The man with the icy voice stepped forward and spoke again.

"Mr Malfoy, we have evidence that marks you as a traitor. Bring her in, Wormtail!"

Murmur passed within the circle, as the masked wizards pressed closer on Draco. The one called Wormtail returned to the room carrying a small body in chains. Her robes were torn, her face hidden by fabric, her fiery red hair hanging over Wormtail's hand. Fiery red hair. Draco's jaw dropped: the little witch in rags was none other than Ginny Weasley. Her breath was uneven, her chest rising and falling in fast, repetitive movements. Wormtail put her at the tall man's feet and took his place in the circle.

"Yes, this is my guest." He bent down a put an unnaturally long finger on her arms. He pulled the cloth from her face, revealing pale cheeks, dark circles under her slightly open eyes and white lips, "See, Mr Malfoy, what has become of poor innocent Ginny Weasley? See what happens when you trust too much?" His finger traced lines on her face, making her wince, "And it's you that must finish her off."

He got up and stared at Draco, his red eyes fixed on grey. Draco looked up at the Dark Lord, but didn't move. For some strange reason, he didn't want to kill Ginny, he couldn't. Draco crawled next to her limp body and touched her hand. He could feel her bones and her skin was cold as ice.

"Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!" The chant of the Death Eaters echoed in Draco's ears and he threw himself over Ginny, covering her body with his. The Dark Lord smiled.

"I thought as much. Goodbye, Mr Malfoy. Avada Kedavra!"

Draco opened his eyes. He had been dreaming this nightmare for the past few nights. Why was Ginny in his dreams? Was there a connection between her and the Dark Lord, other than the diary from her first year? Draco gathered the silk bed sheets and looked around his Head Boy dormitory: it was a big room, decorated in the Slytherin colours. There were a few pieces of furniture: an oak desk, filled with his seventh year books, quills, parchment and ink bottles, a fireplace with a long ornate mantelpiece, a huge library and a door leading to his bathroom.

Draco rested his head on the pillows, pulled the covers over himself and fell asleep, as the first rays of the sun crept over the shadows of Hogwarts castle.

***

Shadows were moving in the background. There was blood on her hands. Her robes were torn to bits, her hair was tangled and he was by her side. He was smiling, but she knew all too well that the smile was fake. He was just as evil as before, evil hidden behind a mask of sweetness, charm and cunning. Oh, yes, this was the essence of...of....she couldn't even speak his name.

She looked up at him with hate in her eyes, hate for all the things he had done to her, the unspeakable terror he had unleashed and the emotional damage he had caused. She had never hated anyone so much, not even that git of a Malfoy.

She threw her hair over her shoulder and started walking away from him, towards the shadows in the maze of her mind. She heard him laugh, a cold, calculated, evil laugh that sent shivers up her spine. Her pace quickened and soon she was running through the dark, but his voice reached her.

"You cannot hide from me. I will find you, for they will treat you like a maniac, so the only one you can turn to is me. Not your brother, not the Mudblood, not Harry Potter, but me, Tom Marvolo Riddle."

She could hear him running behind her. She was tired, wounded and helpless. She turned a corner and saw a familiar face. It was familiar, but it wasn't exactly who she wanted him to be. Tall, well-built, with a pale pointed face, grey eyes and silvery-blond hair, Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her, his wand out, pointed over her shoulder.

Maybe it wasn't the brightest of ideas, but it seemed the most logical thing to do. So she did it: she ran straight at him and flung her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. Marvolo laughed again and for some strange reason, she hardened her grip. Maybe he would protect her. Maybe.

"You honestly think he will defend you? Really, Ginny, I thought you had learned that blind trust leads to your doom."

Ginny looked up and Draco with pleading eyes. All hope was lost, if he couldn't protect her from.... herself.

"Remember when you opened the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny? Remember what Harry said? And your brother, who avoided you all summer? What about Mudblood, too busy with homework to write back? You are so naïve, Ginny, and you need me so badly. And this is your saviour! The one and only, Draco Malfoy?"

His cold laugh bounced of the stone walls. The image became blurrier and blurrier until everything went dark.

<> Ginny awoke with a start. She steadied her breathing and tried to forget about her nightmares. Everything was so scary and she was so alone. Oh, how she desperately wanted to run to Harry and start crying in his arms. All these years she had loved him, waiting for him to love her. And everything was in vain. Everything!!!

Slowly, she climbed out of bed and started changing into her robes. It was just another Saturday morning, and her roommates were asleep. Then again, they always slept until 10:00 on weekends. Ginny grabbed a book and climbed down to the common room. Crookshanks was purring in an armchair. He watched Ginny sneak out of Gryffindor Tower through the portrait hole, a silent witness that would hold her secret.

***

Draco rolled around in his bed. It was useless to try and dream of something else than Voldemort and Ginny's death. He finally decided that maybe some fresh air would do more good. His world was slowly falling to pieces and the last place he wanted to be was in the middle of all the chaos.

A pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, a black school robe, his green tie and he was off. The common-room was empty, except for Pansy, who was sleeping on the couch in a very uncomfortable position. Her eyes were shut tight, her cheeks sucked in and white and she kept biting her lip. Another sleepless night, obviously. Draco ignored her and walked out casually, only to find himself facing the empty dungeon corridor.

The corridor was well-lit, yet chilly. Draco glanced at his watch: it was only 7:30, and breakfast wouldn't start until 9:00. It was Saturday, after all. Then again, he could go to the kitchens and harass some house-elves into giving him food, but he hadn't sat with his friends in days, and they might write to his father. He thought about that again and snorted. Since when did Draco Malfoy have friends? As weird as it seemed, he was a loner, a cold-hearted bastard, who, according to Lucius, couldn't love a soul on Earth.

He walked past the Great Hall, out into the grounds. He was right about the weather: it was cold outside and there was a thin curtain of mist around the lake. Perfect! If any teacher or student decided to take an early stroll, they wouldn't see him.

Draco made for the tree next to the lake, when he noticed that he wasn't alone. Leaning against it sat a little witch, in second-hand robes, reading a book which certainly didn't contain spells, potions or hexes. For a moment he sat there transfixed, not knowing whether to stare or say something.

"What are you doing out of bed at this hour, young lady?"

She jumped and looked up at Draco. He found himself staring into the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen. And they belonged to none other than... Ginny Weasley.

"Weasley, why aren't you in your Common Room?"

"None of your business, Malfoy. If I die, I'll make sure you aren't in a ten mile radius of me."

She resumed her reading. Draco sat down next to her, thinking that it wouldn't hurt anyone if he talked to her. He looked over her shoulder at the book she was reading and decided that it definitely wasn't written by a wizard.

"What are you reading?" he asked in the most polite tone he could make.

"What, this? I'm afraid you wouldn't like it, Malfoy. It's Muggle literature."

She closed her book and he could finally read the cover: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Draco tried to remember where he had heard about the book. The title was awfully familiar.

"What's it about, anyway?" he asked curiously.

"Well, I don't know really. I've never read Austen before. But I guess it's a love story of some kind. Here, read the first line."

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Sounds like Victorian age. Am I right?"

"Pre-Victorian, actually. If you want, I'll lend you the book."

Draco smiled. This was unexpected. But why not seize the opportunity?

"Actually, since I'm here, we might as well read together. If you don't mind, that is."

Ginny looked into the steel-grey eyes she was so familiar with. Was it wrong to be friends with your family's enemy?

"I guess it wouldn't hurt anyone."

Draco moved closer to Ginny, until their arms were touching. Ginny opened the book and they started reading together. His hair kept brushing against her cheek and she could smell traces of mint and grapefruit. Draco, on the other hand, was really taken aback by the touch of her hands. He had always thought that poor people had coarse, wrinkled hands. And now Ginny Weasley proved that he was wrong. Every time his hand met hers, he felt warmness building up in his chest; but it was immediately crushed by the memory of his father's hate for the Weasleys. And he had yet to face his father in a true wizard duel.

They read together for what seemed like hours. Draco couldn't exactly state that he was friends with Ginny, and she wasn't really thrilled at the idea of Harry seeing her with Malfoy, but company was always welcome. The sun had already risen above the castle when they decided that breakfast was in order. At length, Ginny broke the silence by closing her book and whispering,

"Hey, it was nice reading with you and all, but I'm getting kinda hungry and it's almost breakfast time."

Draco leaned backwards, his head resting against the tree. His eyes moved from Ginny's face to the lake and his thoughts seemed to travel through space and time. Memories started swirling in his head, images raced before his eyes and he could hear pieces of past arguments with his father. Draco closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block out the coldness that was surrounding him. Ginny's voice echoed eerily in his head and he opened his eyes to see her looking pale and worried.

"Are you alright, Malfoy? Answer me, Malfoy, for God's sake, answer me!"

Draco jumped to his feet, knocking Ginny backwards. She looked up at him, amazement written all over her face. His eyes darted around, expecting to see Death-Eaters jump out from behind trees and hex him, and he yelled at Ginny,

"Listen Weasley, if you tell anyone about this, I'll make sure you fail every exam!"

And with that he ran towards the castle entrance, leaving Ginny alone and scared.

***

Harry reached for the glasses on his bedside table. He stood up, pulled the curtains from around his four-poster and looked at his fellow dorm mates. Seamus was still asleep, hence the snoring and rolling around from his bed, Dean was in the bathroom, taking a shower or something, Neville was reading a book about the venomous plants they were studying in Herbology and Ron had got dressed and was now searching for his socks under the bed.

"Hey, mornin' everybody!" Harry said yawning.

Seamus gave a loud snore, but kept on dreaming. Neville didn't seem to notice Harry; he was too interested in his book. Ron, on the other hand, pulled a pair of smelly brown socks from under his bed. He threw them by his open trunk, all the while looking disgusted beyond words. Harry was already laughing as hard as he could. This made Ron glare at him and mutter under his breath,

"I bet you wouldn't laugh like that if you found your Quidditch robes full of dust and smelling like rotten cabbage."

This shut Harry up in an instant. Meanwhile, all the commotion had awoken Seamus. He was sitting up in his bed, rubbing his eyes, annoyed that it was Saturday and he had woken up so early. He looked at Harry and Ron, then at Neville, who was unaware of anything except his book and muttered,

"Look guys, it's Saturday morning and I really wanted to sleep some more..." his voice trailed off as he yawned again, sank his head in the pillows and fell asleep once more.

Harry and Ron sniggered. Just then, Dean came out of the shower with a towel around his waist. He stopped in the doorframe and stared for a moment at his classmates: Seamus had put a pillow on his head, trying to block out Harry and Ron's annoying laughter, while Neville was taking down notes from his book. Dean shook his head, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and walked to his bed to get dressed.

"Harry, what's the time?" he asked, his voice muffled by the T-shirt he was trying on.

Harry reached for the wristwatch on his table and stared at it: the dragon-hide strap, the golden numbers, his initials engraved on the back...it had been a present from Hermione on his 15^th birthday, more than two years ago.

"Well, Harry, are you going to answer or not?"

Ron grabbed the wristwatch and answered,

"It's 8:30, Dean. Harry, you think breakfast is ready yet?"

Harry shook his head and went to look out the window. The mist around the lake was rising, showing trees and still water. He made to turn to Ron, when he noticed someone by the lake. A student, probably....He squinted and realised that there were two people, not one. His eyes grew wide: sitting by the lake were none other than Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy.

"Hey Harry, what are you doing? Seen a new model broomstick hovering at your window?" Ron asked half-annoyed, half-sarcastic.

Harry looked at Draco and Ginny one more time, before turning to the others and answering,

"Well, Ron, if it were a new model broomstick, I'd make sure you were the first to know. Anyway, have you seen Ginny lately?"

Ron thought for a second and replied hesitantly,

"No, not since Thursday evening, when she sat next to Seamus at dinner. Why?"

"No reason." Harry shifted his weight from one foot to another. "It's just that maybe we've been ignoring her. Maybe she's got some problems and needs to sort them out, but she doesn't know where to begin."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

Harry mumbled something. Ron still looked curious and wanted to press the matter further. Harry cut him off abruptly by leaving the dormitory and heading for the common room. Ron followed him closely and climbed down the narrow spiral staircase only to see Hermione sitting in an armchair, doing her Potions' essay. She raised her head when she heard the two boys and got up. She walked over to Harry, hugged him, and then moved to Ron, whom she kissed.

Harry felt a small pang in his heart: although Ron and Hermione deserved each other, he couldn't help feeling slightly jealous that he was The Boy Who Lived, aged 17 and ½, and still single. If he had been 13 or 14, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. But nonetheless, he couldn't stop wondering how Ron would feel if he told him that Ginny was by the lake with Malfoy. He'd probably have a heart attack; every Weasley expected him to ask for Ginny's hand after her graduation, but the more pressing problem at the time was Voldemort. After almost six months of threats, he had stopped showing any sign of life; even the Death Eaters were silent and according to Dumbledore, something BIG was going to happen. And now... Ginny sitting alone withthat Malfoy git? He closed his eyes and focused his attention on Ron's complaints about Snape's essay.

"Hey, Hermione, are you going to let me copy your homework?" Ron asked hopefully.

"No way, Ron! I'm not gonna spend my Saturday morning writing so you can get it for free!" Hermione answered pursing her lips.

Ron brushed his lips against hers and whispered "please". Hermione's eyes lit up and she nodded, a pink tinge slowly colouring her cheeks. She handed her parchment to Ron and suggested they head to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry hoped to get a chance to talk to Ginny alone, even if it meant pretending to talk to her about something else; and since Ron and Hermione would be busy with each other, breakfast was the closest he might be to Ginny.

The three of them walked through the portrait hole and climbed down the spiral staircase. The doors of the Great Hall were still closed. Harry glanced at his watch and said,

"Well, it's five to nine, so I guess they'll open the doors any minute now."

Just then, their attention was caught by a figure running up the stairs, into the Entrance Hall. Its hair was ruffled and it kept glancing backwards, so the trio couldn't see who it was. It turned to them and banged into Harry, falling over him. It raised its silver-grey eyes and brushed a strand of hair from its face. Draco Malfoy stood up, white and trembling, with a look of pure venom in his eyes.

"Potter. What are you doing here?" he spat out, throwing a hateful glance at Ron and Hermione.

"I didn't know you owned the castle, Malfoy," Ron answered instead of Harry.

Draco walked to him in haste, grabbed Ron by his collar and pinned him against the nearest wall. Their faces were inches away, grey eyes locked on blue, Draco's breath uneven, Ron's almost gone. The blond-haired Slytherin felt the tip of a wand in his back and heard Hermione's trembling voice,

"Malfoy, let go of Ron or I swear I will hex you. Let go of him! Now!"

Draco's fingers loosened their grip on Ron's neck and he let him fall at his feet. He turned around, moved Hermione's wand from his chest and walked down to the dungeons. Harry watched him closely: a vein was pulsing in his temple and his muscles were so tense, any move would set him off. He was sure that Ginny knew the reason for Malfoy's odd behaviour. And he would find out what it was soon enough.

***

Ginny watched Draco run back to the castle. He would turn around every now and then and look at her, horror on his face. She recognised the expression: she looked like that every time she relived the awful experience from the Chamber of Secrets, every time Tom Riddle intruded on her dreams, every time she heard his voice, even though she knew that he disappeared when she woke up. Ginny closed her eyes, brought her knees to her chin, as tears streamed down her cheeks, and started whispering to herself,

"Tom is not real, Tom is evil and he'll go away. He'll go away. Away...."

But a voice in the back of her head kept saying,

"Ginny, you are so foolish. You know better than to start crying. Tom won't go away no matter what you say. All your torment is in vain. One day, Ginny Weasley, he will win, Shadow will conquer all that is good and right in the world and you will lose your friends, your family, everyone. And who will you turn to, Ginny Weasley? Who? Why, Tom Riddle, that's who."

Ginny rocked backwards and forwards, helpless and scared. She opened her eyes and stared at the clear blue sky, the white clouds, and for a moment she felt that Voldemort would never win. Just for a moment...

She got up carefully and walked slowly back to the castle. She could hear laughter coming from the Great Hall, people who scarcely cared about the war, even though it would touch the lives of magic and non-magic folks everywhere. Ginny wiped her tears and walked to the Gryffindor table. She sat alone at the far end, careful to avoid Ron, Hermione, or Harry's curious looks, eyeing the Slytherins with caution, trying to see whether or not Draco had told them about her. Apparently not, judging by their high voices and smirks.

At one point, Harry came to sit next to her. Ginny decided it was best to hear him out than leave, otherwise she might have trouble with Ron. She smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. He looked more serious than Ginny had ever seen him.

"Ginny..." he began softly, but his voice was, in Ginny's ears, as cold as ice. "What have you been doing lately? I mean, you certainly aren't as active as before. Is anything wrong?"

She swallowed hard. It would be a good time to tell him about her nightmares, her fears and her sudden interest in Draco Malfoy.

"I...it's....it's nothing Harry, nothing at all."

She couldn't tell him. After all this time, she didn't have the courage to say it out loud. Tom Riddle was right, even though she hated to admit it. Under her mask of indifference, of maturity, of boldness, she was still Ginny Weasley, a scared little girl who needed a shoulder to cry on. To cry....

"Ginny? Ginny, can you hear me?" Harry's voice brought her back to reality.

She looked at him. Harry stared at her and admired her coolness, after the nightmare she had lived through. He couldn't possibly understand Ginny Weasley's inner emotions, he never could. Ginny got up, leaving her porridge half-eaten, looked at Harry one last time and left the Great Hall in a hurry, heading for Gryffindor Tower. From the Slytherin table, a pair of grey eyes was watching her every move...

Ginny ran up the marble staircase until she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. She whispered "Flabbergasted" and dashed into the common room. Seamus and Dean were playing a game of Exploding Snap. They turned to her, but she ignored them and ran up to her dormitory. Both boys exchanged worried looks before returning to their game. Ginny opened the door, walked in and slumped on her bed. She pulled the curtains around her bed when she heard Hermione's voice.

"Ginny, are you OK? I saw you leaving the Great Hall and I figured something was wrong." She moved closer. Ginny could see her outline through the curtain. "If you ever need help, tell me. We all love you, Ginny, and we're worried." She paused for a moment, as though pondering her next sentence, but changed her mind and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Ginny sobbed in her pillow for a while. "If you ever need help, tell me." She needed help, now more than ever, but she couldn't ask for it. These were her demons and she had to fight them alone. Ginny closed her eyes and sought peace in dreams.

***

She was sitting on the window sill. Rain was falling from the dark clouds, hitting the window. Lightning lit up the sky, thunder made her shiver. She pressed her head against the cold window and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of raindrops. Silence filled the room...the walls started closing in on her....she opened her mouth and felt the need to scream. No sound came out, however. She resumed staring out of the window, silence engulfing her, bringing the protection of death...

He walked out of the shadows, out of death and darkness, and sat behind her. She was so engulfed by the song of the rain, she didn't hear him. Or maybe she pretended not to hear him. He extended his hand and touched her shoulder. She jumped and turned to her visitor. The image made her recoil in fear.

"Why do you fear me, little one?" he asked, a wicked smile spread on his face.

Her lower lip began to tremble. She feared him, she feared his poisoned words and cunning promises. The touch of his cold fingers on her skin sent shivers up her spine and she withdrew further, until she felt the icy glass on her back. He smiled again, amused by her fear; he put his finger on her face and caressed her cheeks, aware of the fact that she was trapped. She closed her eyes and tried to scream, but only a faint moan escaped her.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it." His finger was moving down her neck, all the way to her collarbone. "You loved me too much, Ginny. You entrusted me with your hopes, your dreams, your deepest desires....your soul. As long as you keep me in your heart, there is no way you can escape from this nightmare."

Ginny tried to think about something else, to ignore that familiar bittersweet smell of Tom Riddle's hair brushing against her forehead as he leaned forward. It was useless, and she knew it. The touch of his lips on hers evoked long sleepless nights from her first-year, when she would open her diary and her heart to the sixteen year old memory of a student. She remembered the first time she had seen him: the jet-black hair, the dark eyes, the soft skin and, of course, the bittersweet flavour of his lips. Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers entwined in his hair; he climbed next to her and put her on his lap. They broke the kiss and Tom whispered softly,

"I knew you'd see it my way, Ginny."

He pulled something from his robes. It was a long silver dagger with the letters TMR written on the blade. Ginny traced her finger on the sharp edge and saw warm red blood ooze from her cut. He pulled her closer, until her head was resting on his shoulder. Tom brought both the dagger and his lips closer to Ginny. He kissed her again, with all the passion his dark heart could feel, and stabbed her in the chest with his knife. She opened her eyes, but the scream was hushed by his kiss. Ginny grabbed hold of his cloak and Tom drove the dagger deeper into her heart. He left it there and continued kissing her until he could feel she was on her last breath. He let go of her lips and she asked him,

"Why Tom? I loved you...."

"I loved you too, Ginny. In my own dark way..."

Ginny's eyes were full of tears. She looked around the dormitory and saw Harry sitting on a chair, by her bed. He looked at her with compassion and squeezed her hand tighter.

"Why didn't you tell me, Ginny? Hermione said you were sick and she was right." He paused before continuing, "Is Tom Riddle torturing you, Ginny? Is he?"

Ginny stared at him and nodded. Tears overcame her. She buried her head in Harry's chest and sobbed quietly, shaking violently. Harry glanced at the door, where Ron was standing, pale and worried. He hugged Ginny, trying to think of something comforting to say, but to no avail.

Ginny broke away from the embrace, wiped her tears and said,

"Harry, Tom Riddle is a mere memory from a diary you destroyed. I've been having nightmares because of Voldemort's rising. I bet you have nightmares as well." Harry shifted uneasily. Ginny smiled. "See? We'll win and everything will be alright. In the end, good always wins."

Harry got up and walked to the door. Ron was already waiting outside. He closed the door to Ginny's dorm and they climbed down the stairs to the common room, where Hermione was sitting in an armchair, reading. She turned when she heard Ron and Harry and asked anxiously,

"Well? What did she say?"

"She denies everything. She says it's because of Voldemort's rise." Harry shook his head. "I'm worried for her. If we lose Ginny...."

"Don't even think about that, Harry," Ron's voice was trembling.

"I saw her with Malfoy by the lake this morning," Harry said in a whisper.

Hermione dropped the book and Ron became, if it were possible, paler. They stared at Harry in disbelief, but he was quite interested in the floor of the common room. Harry felt guilt building up in his throat and he wished he hadn't divulged Ginny's secret without her consent.

Ron sat down in an armchair and sobbed for a while. Hermione sat at the foot of the chair, slowly caressing his hand and whispering soft words. Harry felt like an idiot, sitting behind the armchair, when he heard footsteps on the staircase. Ginny ran through the portrait-hole and Harry followed her, if only to get away from the compassionate looks of Parvati and Lavender.

He ran after Ginny, but she clearly wasn't paying attention to anything. She ran out through the Entrance Hall until she reached the lake. Harry hid behind a tree, hoping to see who it was that Ginny had come to meet.

***

After Harry left, Ginny climbed out of bed and started pacing the room. Harry knew something, but how much? She bit her knuckles, turning them white. Her eyes kept darting across the room. She felt as if she were trapped in a cell, the walls closing in on her....his soothing voice came out of nothingness but she tried to block it by closing her eyes. She walked to the window, opened it and screamed, breaking the silence of the grounds, saving her mind.

There was no echo to her scream, and she felt somewhat lonely. That is...until a figure on a broomstick caught her attention. She watched him flying above the Forbidden Forest, probably practising new manoeuvres. But out here, where everyone could see him?

Ginny rested her arms on the window sill and keep staring at the Slytherin. Suddenly, he noticed her watching him and flew towards the open window in Gryffindor Tower. As the distance between him and the girl became shorter, he saw her red hair waving in the breeze. His smile turned into a smirk and he spat,

"Weasley."

"Malfoy, how thick can you be? You were practising Quidditch manoeuvres outside the pitch. For all you know, I could've been watching you for a long time."

"Fat chance. You're too stupid to notice a Quidditch manoeuvre if it hit you in the face. You know more about Muggles than about the use of brooms in Quidditch."

"I see your point." Ginny gaze travelled from Draco's pointed ferret-face to the broom handle and the glinting words Nimbus 2001. "By the way, Malfoy, is this suppose to compensate for something else?"

Draco's face turned pink. His eyes shot daggers and he gave a new meaning to the expression if only looks could kill.

"Well, you'd better ask Potter. If I remember correctly, he's got a Firebolt," he drawled, his face still pink.

Ginny jumped on the window sill and leaned to slap Malfoy. Unfortunately, she hadn't taken into consideration the fact that he had a lot of training when it came to dodging people and objects, as he had played against Fred and George Weasley.

Ginny, however, was much too angry to think and when he avoided her hand, she slipped and fell through the air. She closed her eyes and waited to hit the ground, but suddenly air wasn't rushing past her ears and she didn't feel like she was falling anymore. Ginny reluctantly opened her eyes and looked up. Malfoy was holding her by her robe, smirking.

"You want me to let go of you?" he asked in a cold tone.

"No. Please don't," Ginny replied softly.

"Did I just hear a Weasley begging a Malfoy?"

He loved this feeling of power. He loved the idea of letting her go. He loved that look in her eyes. He loved to know that she was scared. He loved to see her wriggling under his grasp. And he now knew what Lord Voldemort meant by power over life and death. He could let go of her and watch her body crash against the ground.

"Please, Draco, please don't let me go." Ginny was still looking up at him. She hadn't felt so weak since first year. Tears were running down her cheeks. Yet Malfoy's face was still cold and his eyes were darkened by anger and power.

"Did you just call me Draco?"

Ginny's gaze dropped and she let out a deep sigh. Malfoy'd better let her go, otherwise, she would faint. Somehow, a part of her still believed he would save her, fly her back to the dormitory.

"You are so alone without Potter. He doesn't care about you. He never has and he never will. Not him, not Mudblood, not even your brother."

Ginny let out a shriek, which took Draco off-hand. He let go of her and she fell. Her eyes grew wide as she reached the ground. Her breath became uneven and everything went black.

***

"Crap! Malfoy, you are such an idiot!"

Draco leaned his broom and dived after Ginny. This resembled the Wronski Feint, but Quidditch was the last thing on his mind. He reached Ginny and grabbed her by her waist, pulling her limp body next to his.

"How degrading! A Malfoy carrying a Weasley. And to think..." his voice trailed off as he looked at her. "Filthy little Muggle-lover."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Her arms were hanging around her body, but she gathered her strength and put them around Draco's neck. Ginny buried her face in his chest and whispered, "Thank you."

"Don't think I care about you, Weasley. You're still a poor Muggle-lover."

"Yeah, Malfoy. I'd hate to think of you as a hero. Now that would be degrading."

Draco put Ginny on the window sill and said,

"I have to talk to you about something. Be down in ten minutes. It's in your best interest."

And with that he dived, without a second glance at Ginny. If he had turned around just a second, he would have seen her watching him with interest.

***

Ginny now had to make a choice: either defy Malfoy and refuse to speak to him or defy Ron, meet Malfoy and admit that he was her hero. She bit her knuckles again. Since first year, she had been kept away from diaries. Sometimes, she wrote things on her hand just so she could remember. Things like: potions tests, homework or some book she had to return to the library. And when she was too frustrated and needed to write something down, she'd bite her knuckles instead, afraid of what might happen if parchment wrote back.

Ginny finally decided what to do: she would go and meet Malfoy, if only to humiliate him. She opened the door to her dormitory, literally burst into the common room, whooshed pass her friends and ran to the lake. She was panting by the time she reached it.

Draco stood behind Ginny, staring over her shoulder at the lake. What was he doing out here, with Weasley, of all people? He shrugged. He just had to talk to her. True, he'd spoil his image now, but it didn't really matter. He'd do anything for a good night's rest. Well, almost anything... He put his hand on her shoulder and she spun on her heels.

"Come on, Weasley. Let's go talk," Draco drawled, withdrawing his hand and wiping it against his robes.

"Why not out here? And, mind you, my robes aren't dirty." Her eyes sparkled with malice.

"Not out here. Because of obvious reasons. I don't want to be seen hanging around you."

"Believe me, Malfoy, I have better things to do. Now tell me what you want and then leave me in peace." Ginny glanced at the windows of Gryffindor Tower, expecting, no, hoping, to see someone up there. But the window was still closed and the curtains were drawn.

"Let's go inside." His tone was anxious, with a faint trace of annoyance.

"No!"

Draco grabbed her by the wrist and pulled, not as hard as he normally would have done, but hard nonetheless. Ginny tried to fight back by hitting Draco's arm, but she wasn't strong enough.

"Malfoy, I said no!"

"Stop making such a fuss and come on!"

"Sod off! No is no!"

"Ginny, come on!"

Ginny's legs couldn't fight anymore and she lost her balance, falling face forward. Before she hit the ground, Draco grabbed her by her arms and held her firmly. She looked up at him, only to see a pair of expressionless grey eyes.

"Thanks to you, Weasley, I have to wash thoroughly tonight. I don't want my hands smelling of hand-me-down robes."

Harry ran from behind the tree and pulled Malfoy away from Ginny. Her support gone, she fell on the grass and glanced at Harry, who was delivering a punch straight at Draco's eye. He staggered backwards, but regained balance. Draco took his wand out of his pocket faster than Harry and pointed it to his face.

"Mine's just a bruise, Potter. It'll heal...but I doubt a well-placed curse will do the same."

Ginny got up, walked behind Draco and whispered,

"It's not worth it."

"Yes it is," he replied smirking. "I'll just make his nose bigger, or make him see triple or give him zits that'll last a week."

Ginny made an annoyed face and said,

"Fine, I'll let you settle this the kindergarten way."

Draco smiled and stopped pointing his wand at Harry's face. He followed Ginny to the castle but some habits and desires never die out...Half way there, Draco turned around and yelled,

"Potter!" Harry turned to him. "Engorgio!"

And with that, he grabbed Ginny's wrist and ran all the way to his dormitory, leaving Harry to roll around on the ground with a nose the size of a small watermelon.