Come On Harry

Chapter 8: The Duels

Ginny winked at him from across the table over her cold cereal before slipping a spoonful into her mouth. Her shoulders seemed to be hugging her protuberant collarbones, which in themselves had a divine-like quality that made Harry especially anxious. He was at times uncertain that this girl could have possibly been the same little first year student, terrified, guilty, and covered in blood, who had lain next to him in the chamber of secrets. Perhaps he had just not known another Ginny back in his second year, when he was too blinded by her childish crush on him to recognize character beyond the skittish yet loyal admiration.

He could hardly describe her that way now, as she turned in her seat to wave to Dean Thomas, who was situated at the other end of the Gyffindor table beside a gossiping Andy Kirke. When she turned back around, Harry's eyes were guarded and she gave him a quick smile before taking another spoonful into her mouth.

He should have been feeling better these past few weeks. The tension between him and Malfoy was more or less resolved, if you discounted the unfortunate diffidence he now seemed to possess around the blonde haired Slytherin. The end of semester finals had also been cancelled, but only to be replaced by the duels which Snape had promised them in the beginning of the year.

He had not cared at first or even thought about practicing a few curses or counter-curses. But now he was terrified about the duels and could not understand why Ginny was so excited.

She turned away from him for a moment to search for Draco, who had not come to breakfast yet. When she turned back, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott had appeared beside Harry. "I heard you're dueling Terry tomorrow, Potter," Ernie stated in a business-like fashion. "Good luck with that." He caught sight of Ginny and waved with a crooked and coy smile.

"I hope you curse him something awful," Hannah put in, leaning across Ernie so that she was could see Harry. Ernie pulled one of her blonde pigtails playfully and she hit in him the stomach.

After recovering from the shock, he turned to Harry and pointed to himself. "I'm dueling with him today. Should be great fun."

Hannah stepped forward again, this time brushing one of her pigtails back with a certain air. "What he means is: he's going to pummel him." Harry began to laugh. "No, really, I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking when he made Terry Head Boy. I thought surely it would be Ernie..."

"Hey, me too, but I'm sure Dumbledore had his reasons," Ernie said in a slightly dark tone of voice.

Harry smiled. "Well, good luck today. And if you do pummel him, then perhaps I won't have to duel him tomorrow."

"Oh, but he should be no problem for you, Potter," Ernie answered and put an arm around Hannah's waist, who then let out a shrill yelp with wide eyes. He tucked her long bangs behind her right ear and then nodded at Harry and Ginny before making his way back to the Hufflepuff table with the blonde girl.

Ginny put another spoonful of cereal in her mouth. "He's nice," she sighed, clearly not thinking about Ernie.

"Respectful, more like. And I think I agree with Hannah about him being Head Boy."

"Maybe," Ginny replied distantly. "But Terry's so sweet."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Everyone's sweet to you, Ginny. I wonder why..." He looked lost in thought for a moment, but then he said, "You know, I used to think Terry liked Hermione, on account of his telling her that she was so intelligent all the time. Do you remember last year when she'd figured out how to let Ron and I go up to her dormitory without the stairs melting? Well when Terry found out, he started to stutter whenever she got near him, and Ron reckoned he tried to ask her out once. Looking back at it now, I think that's around the time when Ron started becoming more protective of her..."

"Makes sense," Ginny said. "He never realized he liked her until there was someone else to threaten him. Just like with Krum."

"Well that's just the way Ron is, I suppose."

She removed the spoon from her mouth with a wicked smile. "That's the way most people are, Harry. Including you."

He hadn't expected this answer. "Hey..."

"So are you prepared for the duel tomorrow?"

He lifted up a goblet of orange juice to his lips. "Not a bit."

"Well, good luck. The judges are inclined to favour Terry since he's Head Boy. I personally think that it's ridiculous, but I suppose I wouldn't mind so much if I were Head Boy."

"Sorry to break it to you, Ginny, but you'll never be Head Boy. Head Girl, perhaps..."

"Oh hush," she said, kicking him under the table lightly. He grinned and poured some more juice into his mouth.

***

"No way, Seamus," Ron said to the sandy haired boy in front of him. "Harry's got to get his sleep tonight, and he won't be able to with your bed squeaking all night."

Seamus crossed his arms. "We'll use a silencing charm this time, Weasley. Harry won't even notice."

"Yeah, but he'll know that you and Lavender are shagging right above him and he won't be able to sleep."

"Well, we don't have to tell the lad, do we? That way we'll all be happy."

"He's got a point," Dean said to Ron from across the room, playing with a football in between his feet.

Ron looked disgusted. "Well, I'll still know." He stared at Seamus, who didn't seem to care much about Ron's last statement. "Fine, I'm going to Hermione's then."

"You do that, Weasley," Seamus responded, raising his eyebrows suggestively. He walked to the door of the dormitory and cracked it open. "You can come in, love," he said.

Lavender walked into the room, giggling as she spotted a red-faced Ron.

"Apparently we can't let Potter know you're here," Seamus said, grabbing her waist and pulling her towards him.

She kept giggling. "I know, I heard," she admitted.

Seamus was getting closer to Lavender every second, his lips now almost touching hers. But before Ron could see them kiss, he stormed out of the room.

Ron wasn't sure of where to go. It seemed natural to climb up to Hermione's dormitory, give her a few kisses and eventually coax her into letting him spend the night there, but he was still upset with her. He knew that he should have been congratulating his girlfriend on getting her dream job, but how could he when it meant that he wouldn't get to see her for three years? It wasn't fair, and he couldn't imagine what three years without her would be like.

It was then, while he was walking down the stairs, that he realized that this gave him all the more reason to see her now. Feeling slightly more relieved, he rushed over to her room and knocked on the door.

Parvati answered with, "What do you want?" It seemed she was just as upset with him as she was with Harry for choosing Ginny over her.

"Er...is Hermione there?" Ron shifted in his shoes.

She crossed her arms in annoyance. "No. She's off with Harry somewhere."

"Oh okay." He turned to leave, not sure he could possibly spend a moment longer with the girl in front of him, striking as she was.

But she drew his attention back by saying, "That's some girlfriend you've got, Ron. Off shagging your best friend..."

"They're not shagging," Ron replied heatedly. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Of course they're shagging. I saw them together not long ago one night in the common room. Things were certainly heating up, and trust me, it wasn't the fireplace."

He looked at her, wondering if she was saying this to try and make him as miserable as she was or if she was just truly evil. "I really don't believe you," he said.

"Fine, don't. I don't care." She shut the door in his face.

Several minutes later, Harry and Hermione walked into the common room, both looking very tired. Ron stood up immediately. "Where were you two?" he asked, trying not to look bothered by it.

"We were just practicing for the duels," Hermione said.

"Oh, right. The duels. Good luck."

"Thanks, mate. I'll need it, but Hermione won't." Harry looked at her and smiled, and Ron was suddenly, against his will and rational thought, terribly worried.

It made sense to him now why Hermione had laughed in his face when he'd mentioned marriage. A part of him had always wondered if Harry, who had almost everything, would get the girl, too. Ron hung his head low and decided he'd rather spend a sleepless night in his own dormitory than spend the night with a girl who might have just slept with his best friend.

***

Terry had won the duel against Ernie the day before, so Harry knew that there was justification for his feeling as if he was going to bend over and be sick all over the floor as he approached the dueling mat. He drew up his wand, his face just inches away from Terry's dark and curly hair. "Good luck, Harry," the other boy whispered.

"You, too," Harry managed before pulling down his wand and turning around. He walked across to his side of the mat, rehearsing in his mind several curses and counter-curses that he had learned from Hermione the night before.

Before he could get through them all, Terry had already shouted, "Relashio vehementer!"

A whole band of fiery sparks flew toward Harry, but he had put up the protego shield around himself, and the sparks were absorbed by it.

He searched through his mind while Terry stood on the other side of the mat, a bit shocked and shaking his head. Harry sent over a mild form of the Blasting Curse.

As it flew through the air like a lightning bolt, Harry felt some sort of pride. But it seemed Terry, too, had become an expert at curse-deflection, because the Gryffindor boy watched his curse come straight back at him.

"Protego," Harry yelled again.

The duel went back and forth for what seemed like hours and both boys were beginning to tire. Harry really thought he might collapse, and Terry had tripped and fallen already once.

Finally, after Terry sent over a curse which acted like a bomb with green smoke, and Harry was able to find some sort of cover, the Gryffindor searched his mind for more curses. He suddenly remembered an especially strong one that Hermione had told him would ensure his victory if he could get it right. He hadn't been able to, but at this point, Harry didn't care. He pointed his want at Terry as steadily as he could and shouted, "Tormentis verbero!"

Sure enough, three colors of light flew out of Harry's wand towards Terry. The Ravenclaw put up a shield and released it after the yellow explosion had vanished. As he got ready to send back another curse, there was another explosion with red smoke, then another with blue. Terry was knocked off his feet and his wand flew across the mat and stopped rolling when it hit Harry's black shoes.

Several professors stood up and announced, "We have a winner. Harry Potter from Gryffindor House!"

The crowd cheered, including a few of the Ravenclaws, who let go of their breaths when Harry revived their Head Boy from the curse.

***

"Congratulations Potter," said a familiar voice from behind Harry's shoulder.

Harry turned around to see Malfoy, leaning against the wall and grinning like an imp. His long bangs were drawn across his forehead and tucked behind his ear. His lips seemed pinker than Harry had ever seen them.

"No, really," Draco continued in a drawl. "But let's just see how you fare next week against me."

"Honestly," Harry admitted as he drew closer, "After third year, I was hoping I'd never have to duel you again."

"Nightmares, Potter?"

"Hardly. I just don't want you to be too embarrassed after I beat you in front of the entire school."

"Oh no, the embarrassment will all be yours," the blonde boy declared.

"Hmmm..." Harry smiled. "Whatever you say."

Malfoy put a tentative hand on Harry's shoulder. There was something very purposeful in the touch. It moved upwards, along the length of Harry's neck, pausing for a moment at the bobbing Adam's apple, then across his chin, lifting it up towards Draco's own face slowly. "Indeed," he said, his voice more hoarse than usual.

Harry felt heat coursing through his body, but instead of reaching out as he usually would, he realized he should wait for the other boy's next move. He did not have to wait long, because soon after he felt something very near to a touch on his lips, a touch that was soft yet firm, casual yet focused.

But the subtle touch was very suddenly snatched away as Harry heard a noise from the end of the corridor. Malfoy was already leaning back against the wall, so Harry also stepped away, widening the space between him and Draco considerably.

A few seconds later, Malcom Baddock appeared scrambling down the corridor with a dark cloak on. His eyes were significantly focused on the wall in front of him, and his curly hair was partially hidden by the cloak. The focus shattered as his eyes fell upon Draco, who was already crossing his arms in disappointment. The younger boy took a step backward.

"Baddock!" Malfoy called. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I was... well, actually I was..." His cheeks began to flush and soon they were darker than his cloak. He drew out his wand with a wavering hand. "I was going to meet Maggie."

"Put your wand away." Malcolm did so. "And it would be good of you not to arrange your sexual exploits on the nights before quidditch practice. I don't want to see you too tired to keep up tomorrow morning. And since that's usually the case, you had better get to bed now."

Malcolm looked annoyed, and Harry could tell that the boy was debating whether or not to stand up to Draco. "Well, you're up, aren't you?" he finally said in a frustrated tone.

"Don't you dare you speak to me like that," Malfoy stated, moving closer with an imperious air.

The boy glanced up at Malfoy with a defeated look. "Sorry, sir," he said in a small voice.

"That's more like it. Now go back to bed, or it will not be a coincidence if Emily finds out you've been cheating on her."

"Okay, okay..." Malcolm bounded off in the same direction that he had come.

"You're awful," Harry said at once.

"You're just jealous."

Harry couldn't tell if the other boy was joking or serious. "Does anyone in your house actually like you or do they just fear you?"

"What are you talking about? They worship me, Potter."

"Exactly."

Draco dropped his gaze to the floor and snapped, "Oh, shut up, golden boy. At least no one thinks I'm their knight in sparkling armour."

"It's 'knight in shining armour', not 'sparkling armour', and it's loads better than everyone praying that I don't tear their legs off."

"I would never do that." He looked at the Gryffindor boy incredulously. "I'd get Crabbe or Goyle to do it for me." His look became smug as he crossed his arms again and traced his eyes over Harry's feature.

Being scrutinized was not something Harry especially liked these days, so he turned his right shoulder upwards to partially conceal his face from the other boy. "I'd better go... give Hermione my support."

"Oh, that's right. She's up against a Hufflepuff tomorrow. She needn't worry. Hufflepuffs aren't good at much of anything. Except standing around and looking like sheep."

"Ernie Macmillan's a pretty good opponent."

"Terry Boot beat him, didn't he?" Malfoy said as if to prove a point.

"The judges favoured Terry because he's Head Boy," Harry stated, repeating Ginny's words.

"You saw the duel, Potter. Terry smashed that Hufflepuff bloke like he was nothing more than a jellybean."

"You favour Terry, too. Because he's Head Boy. Don't you?" Harry suddenly said, sounding more accusatory than he'd meant to.

The edges of Draco's mouth curved up slowly. "It's unwise to displease a man in power."

"How about Dumbledore? You always make fun of him."

"Not in front of him," he said, laughing to himself. "But the man's a prize idiot, isn't he? He's done nothing to protect you from danger this year - " Harry was about to interrupt and ask how Draco had known, but Draco answered him right away, seeing the confused look on the other boy's face. "Ginny told me. Look, if he truly believes that you're in some sort of danger, then why hasn't he done anything about it? You're out of bed almost every night, sometimes outside, where you and I both know there is danger waiting to spring itself on us. Why hasn't he stopped you?"

"Maybe he trusts me," Harry answered, the rancor evident in his voice.

"If he does, he's even more of a loony coot than I thought he was. You're a teenage boy. You're not even eighteen. There's no way you can fight the Dark Lord on your own. And in the past few years, he's recruited innumerable followers, Potter. He's no weakling, either. The extent of his power is utterly unimaginable. Do you understand the gravity of the situation?"

Harry was clenching his fists uncontrollably. He had never heard Malfoy speak about Harry's situation with Voldemort. He thought it was an unspoken rule: that they would never touch upon the subject, much less discuss it like this. And now Harry didn't know what to say. He'd forgotten about Voldemort over the past couple months, and it didn't exactly please him to think about the Dark Lord again.

It was true; Voldemort must have gained a lot of power over the past year, during which time Harry had barely heard a peep out of him. Sixth year had been quiet and it had troubled Harry, as he imagined it had to be the calm right before a huge storm.

But something was bothering Harry. Perhaps it was the fact that Draco was right.

The Slytherin leaned back. "Go ahead. Go back to Gryffindor tower, give Granger your support. It's probably the safest place for you, anyway."

"Malfoy..." Harry muttered desperately in response, no longer wanting to go and see his friends.

"Go on, Potter. I expect they'll be worried about you if you don't hurry up." He looked towards the other end of the corridor, his eyes dark and distant, and his expression attempting to look uninterested.

Harry knew otherwise. "Malfoy..." he repeated, this time stepping closer to the other boy. He could not stand another second with his hands lying at his sides uselessly. He reached out and flung his arms around the blonde boy's skinny waist and held him tight. "I don't want to leave you," he whispered.

Draco's eyes were wide with shock, and Harry's arms felt warm on his belly. He choked back a smile and a silent tear as he slowly gathered his arms onto Harry's back with a certain strength he didn't know he had. "All right then," he said. "You'll be just as safe in the Slytherin dungeons."

***

Harry was delighted that his last duel was not against Malfoy. He could not have stood the building pressure that he usually felt during Quidditch season when he knew the last game would always be Gyrffindor versus Slytherin.

However, this wasn't Quidditch. It didn't involve natural skill, which Harry was fortunate enough to have when it came to flying and catching the snitch with precision. He actually had to look up hexes and curses, those which Draco had most likely known since he was old enough to hold a wand.

The duel started out in the same fashion as his duel with Terry had, except he was over a hundred times more nervous. He couldn't quite meet Draco's eye as he carefully pronounced some of the incantations, positive he wanted to win, but not quite so passionate about winning against Draco.

Draco seemed to have spent a great deal of time before the match separating his feelings for Harry from the intent of the duel. Harry could tell as he watched the other boy, his eyes completely empty and his mouth a straight line except when it opened deliberately to recite a spell.

"Scintilla flava!" Harry shouted, sending a row of yellow sparks at the Slytherin boy, who had muttered a special version of "protego" to put up a magenta colored shield around himself momentarily. He released it as the sparks hit the shield and fell to the floor by his feet.

Malfoy smiled just slightly then and yelled "Sphaericus ignis," a spell Harry had never heard before. The Gryffindor boy wasn't sure of what to do as a ball of fire rushed towards him. While searching his mind for a counter attack, his eyes followed the burst of colour zooming towards him with a kind of morbid curiousity. He could now only see the reddish yellow of the flame, and then everything suddenly became black as he collapsed onto the mat with a thunderous thump.

The fireball flew right over Harry's limp body and hit a little Hufflepuff boy, who began to scream in pain as the flames enveloped him and his yellow and gray robes.

Quick as an arrow, Draco ran towards the boy and shouted, "Exstingue!" White powder flew out of the end of Draco's wand towards the writhing boy and the flames immediately went out.

The crowd suddenly began to mumble and the noise was too great for Draco to focus. He covered his ears, closed his eyes, and sunk down to his knees in the middle of the mat. Everyone was too busy gossiping and staring wide-eyed at the two bodies to notice the Slytherin boy.

Madam Pomfrey stepped onto the mat to check Harry's condition, but Snape was already there. "I've got him, Poppy. You make sure the boy is okay," he said, gesturing towards the Hufflepuff boy. Snape's usually dull voice contained an indescribable excitement.

Once the professor had muttered "Mobilicorpus" and was following Harry's body out of the large room, he turned around and looked to Draco. "Come, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco did not hear him right away, so Snape gripped Draco's forearm so tightly that it was cutting off the boy's circulation, and dragged him out of the room. Malfoy looked around himself uncertainly. He was already on the receiving end of several glares, so he followed his professor out the door with no protest.

***

Hermione watched as Malfoy slumped out of the room, his hand still barely clasping his wand. All Ron's accusations had made sense before now. It was possible that Draco Malfoy was using both Ginny and Harry to help his father and You-Know-Who. It was possible that he was just drawing on Ginny for information. It was possible he was just luring Harry into a trap. It was possible that he had no heart at all.

But just now, she had seen the fireball move right over Harry's body. He had collapsed before it was even near enough to affect him. She had seen Malfoy, desperate and devastated, crash onto his knees in the centre of a thousand students and teachers, and allow tears to fall from his eyes, a humble gesture she hadn't thought him capable of.

Malfoy hadn't done it. She could see it now. Yet no one else had been watching him. They didn't know. He would be held responsible for Harry's collapse and half the wizarding world would be against him no matter what Harry said when he woke up.

Ron had been too stubborn to watch when she'd pointed it out. He rarely listened to her anymore, and he didn't talk unless she prodded him. Now he said under his breath so that Ginny wouldn't hear him, "No one else could have done it but him."

She shook her head and said gently, "Ron...he was in the middle of another curse, how could he have possibly done it?"

"I don't know! But he did, okay?" He looked up into his girlfriend's incredulous eyes angrily. "I'll prove it somehow. I just know it."

Hermione gave him a curt nod before turning to Ginny and flinging her arms around the redheaded girl, who was much taller than she was. "I'm so sorry, Ginny," she said in reassuring tones.

"Me too, Hermione," she replied, clutching her best friend desperately. "Me too."

"He'll be okay though. This has happened before. He'll be okay." She patted Ginny's hair, smoothing it to the very ends.

Ginny leaned forward and whispered into Hermione's ear, "Everyone's going to blame Draco. I won't be able to stand it. I know it wasn't him, Hermione. I just know it."

Hermione wanted to ask who Ginny thought it might have been, but she didn't. Instead, she continued to hug her best friend and stroke her hair lightly, hoping it would somehow help.

***

The days seemed to drag by without Harry. It was the day before holiday break, and Ginny couldn't enjoy it. She, Ron, and Hermione spent most of their time not in class at the hospital wing sitting by his bed, waiting for something to change. But Madam Pomfrey would usually come by around nine and tell them all to go to bed.

Draco never went by the infirmary. He knew he'd only feel guiltier if he saw Harry in his current condition, even though he knew it hadn't been his fault. He couldn't enjoy his victory in the end of semester duels. When the staff realized that Harry's condition wasn't going to change, they cancelled his duel against Ernie, and Draco had beaten the Hufflepuff with all the fury that had been building up inside him since Harry had collapsed.

Sometimes he felt as if he just wanted to run to the hospital wing, shake Harry, and yell at him for being so stupid. He wanted to tell him that they had all suffered enough, that he could wake up now. He'd proved his point. Whatever his point was.

He watched as Ginny deteriorated. She'd lost her last duel to a Ravenclaw, and Draco hadn't the heart to make fun of her for it.

Draco looked at the clock beside his bed. It was nearly ten. His room was dark, large, and depressingly empty. He was supposed to meet Ginny in a few minutes. More often than not, she would come to the Slytherin dungeons to meet him, but in the past week, he had gone to Gryffindor tower to see her. For once, Weasley or Granger hadn't said a word. In fact, he barely saw them anymore. Not that he was complaining.

He stood up to slip on his trousers when he heard an authoritative knock on the door. He shook his head, rolled his eyes, and shouted, "Come in," but not before he was sure he looked extraordinary.

The door flew open to reveal Pansy, her hair darker and fuller than usual, wearing a blouse and shorts that could hardly be considered decent.

Draco eyed her with amusement and slight curiosity. "What is it, darling?" he said in a rather careless voice.

She walked closer to him with exaggerated hip movements. In a soft and seductive voice, she said, "You promised you'd console me if I lost to the Mudblood."

He caught her eyes. "No, I said I'd celebrate with you if you beat her."

"Same thing," she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Her hand began to work its way up his arm onto his shoulder.

Watching its path from the corner of his eye, he said, "Sorry, Pansy, dear. Although I do appreciate your loyalty..."

"Anything for you, Draco," she responded, biting her lip.

"...I can't at the moment." She let out a groan and dropped her hand as he reached out to grab a jumper he had placed on the back of his chair. He walked towards the door and gave her an appreciative smile before leaving.

***

"It's off to the Manor tomorrow, then?" She lifted the end of his tie and weighed it in her hands.

His eyes wandered around the empty classroom. Ginny had been easy to remove from the Gryffindor common room tonight, he noted. She didn't seem to want to spend much more time with Granger or Weasley, which Draco could understand.

"Yes," he finally said. "And you?"

She was sitting on a desk, curling her legs around Draco, who preferred to stand. "Burrow. Of course."

"Of course," he repeated, wondering when she'd get tired of playing with his tie. "How are things with the Gryffindors? You seemed ready to run away when I came by just now."

She tore her eyes away from the stripes on the tie and looked up at him. "Ron and Hermione haven't been... well, they're not exactly happy at the moment. I'm sure it's because Harry's not well. But, I'd imagine they'd be alright with each other at least. But they're not. Ron's really bitter about something, and Hermione's just confused, which rarely ever happens. Neither will talk to me, either."

"I can't imagine that's a good thing" was all he said.

Her eyes were back on the silver and green stripes, and she was now tracing them with the tips of her fingers. "What if..." She stopped.

"What, Ginny?" He lifted her face with her chin, and she tried all she could not to look up at him. Brushing her fiery hair out of her eyelashes, he was able to see her brown irises clearly. They were full of fear.

After a moment of staring at him, she finally continued, "What if he never wakes up?"

Draco didn't think. "Then I'll never stop feeling guilty."

Without realizing it, she tugged on his tie, forcing his head down. "Why are you feeling guilty? It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault at all."

"Everyone certainly seems to think so. And they don't keep their feelings to themselves either." He suddenly remembered all the articles denouncing him and proclaiming him as Harry Potter's attacker. "It's a wonder they haven't taken me to Azkaban yet."

"Draco. They have no evidence. They couldn't send you anywhere. That's ridiculous. Besides, Harry's going to wake up. And then they'll know the truth."

His expression changed. "Now you think he'll wake, do you?"

She looked back down and whispered, "I certainly hope so." After a moment's silence, she said in a darker tone of voice, "Besides, if you went to Azkaban, you'd get lawyers, and you'd be out in no time. Like your..." She trailed off, unmistakably unable to utter the next word.

Like my father, Draco thought. He knew that Ginny was repulsed by his father, but she'd never told him why, and he didn't want to ask her because he knew it would cause a bigger fight than could be repaired. And he didn't want to lose Ginny just yet.

After a while, she said, "I don't know how I'm going to manage two weeks without you."

"I heard Dumbledore's being quite stubborn on the matter of Potter, too. So you won't have either of us. I'm sorry to hear it. I was hoping at least Potter would be there to protect you. But judging by the way things look at this point, he needs more protecting than you do."

She looked up, suddenly angry. "I don't need protecting," she informed him with cold eyes.

"That's right, Ginny," he spat sarcastically. "Because you weren't the one put under a spell by no-one-knows-whom and left unconscious and unable to remember a bloody thing. You definitely don't need protecting."

"If I need protecting, so do you."

"Don't be silly. I don't need to be protected. People need to be protected from me." He pressed both his hands into his chest for emphasis.

Ginny leaned forward and said coldly, "Oh yes, from a seventeen-year-old boy who fell to pieces when he was rejected by his school boy crush. That's who everyone should be afraid of."

Draco's gray eyes grew darker. With a snarl, he warned, "Don't mess with me, Ginny. You'll regret it."

She dropped the end of his tie and stood up. "Maybe I will. But you'll regret it even more." She began to walk towards the door of the classroom.

He ran after her. "Ginny, don't you dare leave!"

Without looking back she said with malice, "Ugh, watch me!"

"Ginny!" Suddenly his hands were pinning her against the door and his face was in hers. "Come on, baby. This is the last night we have together."

"Why?" All the anger had left her voice as she stared up at his open pale face. "I want to spend the holidays with you. Why do you have to go to the Manor?"

His eyes closed for a moment. "I...I have to." He sighed and she felt his breath against her forehead. "I'm being forced."

Neither said anything for a while. She was gripping the sides of his waist tightly, leaning her hips forward and her shoulders back against the wall. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted, but he seemed tired and sad, and his arms looked strained as they pushed against the wall behind her.

Finally he whispered, "He'll wake up, Ginny. Don't worry."

She raised her eyes slowly to meet his. Her mouth opened cautiously. "Is that what you think I want to hear?"

He did not hesitate in his answer. "Yes."

"Then you know me well."

Draco's eyes began to sparkle. "It's unfortunate, isn't it?" he teased in a whisper.

"You're tired, Draco. You should sleep."

He pushed off the wall and stood up straight. "There's no way I'm going to bed yet. What if I..." His words disintegrated as he saw her eyes grow dark with fear again.

"What is it?" she asked right away.

Turning away from her for a moment, he breathed, and then turned back. "I was just thinking. There's a chance..." He stopped again.

"What? That you won't come back? You're kidding me, right?" She grabbed a hold of the front of his jumper and drew him closer so that he could not avoid her eyes.

"Ginny, we just have to see if this whole thing blows over or not. My father might not let me."

"Oh, fuck your father, Draco."

He wrestled out of her grip and glared at her adamantly. She just glared right back, so he let his eyes and fingers relax as he said, "Is this really the last conversation you want to have?"

She positioned her hands around the back of his neck and drew him closer to her. "It won't be the last," she assured him, although she couldn't be sure herself.