The Legend of Chime

Chapter twenty-five

Draco ignored the bustling of the house-elves as he silently watched Elizabeth and Potter enter the kitchen. From Elizabeth's flushed face and the hint of male satisfaction radiating from Potter, Draco knew they hadn't stayed behind to help the house-elf clean. Draco smirked. He couldn't blame him. If he was Potter, he would have done the same. Hell...if he was Potter, he wouldn't have bothered to show up for breakfast at all...

As they took their seats, Potter's eyes locked with his and Draco subtly inclined his head and raised his flagon in a silent salute before taking a drink. For a second, he thought he saw the corners of Potter's mouth twitch, but he couldn't be sure. Potter turned his head toward Elizabeth and they briefly exchange looks. Then Elizabeth suddenly glanced Draco's way and gave him a knowing smile. Weird... Draco thought, allowing a fleeting smile as he lifted his fork and started to eat again. If he didn't know better, he would think Potter and Elizabeth could read each other's thoughts. Draco frowned. Was that the Source power the deranged elf was talking about? Draco mentally shook himself. No, he had seen glimpses of their closeness before; that was all it was. Elizabeth was just very intuitive. Draco forced the thought from his mind and returned his attention to his plate.

After a few minutes, conversation sprung up amongst the group of friends, but they kept it light, mostly talking about school and whatnot. Draco's eyes absently drifted along the table, and he found himself once again watching Ginny as she ate and occasionally spoke. It had sort of become a habit over the last few days, watching her. He wasn't certain why, and his actions slightly puzzled him. Oh, she was pretty enough to catch his attention, with her deep brown eyes and flaming red hair. But he didn't believe that was what drew his eyes. He had stopped being impressed with something so superficial long ago. No, beauty wasn't what intrigued him about a woman. Beauty could be deceiving. He had learned that the hard way. So what was it about this one? He barely knew her.

After a moment, he subtly glanced back at Elizabeth, and found himself comparing the two women. He knew why he was drawn to Elizabeth. She was beautiful, yes. She had a delicate look to her; tall and slender with large, piercing sapphire eyes that could see straight into your soul. But it was her strength of character, not her beauty, which made her so bloody appealing to him. That was what he fought so hard against. Draco watched with a slight feeling of bitterness as Potter put his arm around her and she casually leaned into him. Draco averted his gaze and took another drink of his pumpkin juice.

Then there was Ginny. The two could really be sisters, appearance-wise. Ginny wasn't as tall; she barely reached his shoulder when she stood next to him, but her body was proportioned just the same. But where Elizabeth had a habit of hiding behind masks, Ginny's face usually gave away her every thought, except on those rare occasions when a faint shadow would haunt her expression. Both women had experienced things that would have driven others of a weaker mind to their knees. Draco glanced back down at his plate. So... was it the shadow of pain that he found so appealing in Ginny? That thought was slightly disturbing. He knew her obvious vulnerability had made her a target of his father's during his second year. She had been so open and his father had always delighted in preying on that particular weakness. Draco frowned again. Was he more like his father than he wanted to admit? Was it attraction he felt for her, or something else? He found himself thinking back to what Elizabeth had said about his soul not being black and took a small amount of comfort in that. There was no bloody way he was going to be anything like his father, not if he could help it. Not now. He subtly glanced at Ginny once more. Maybe it would be better if I just kept my distance....

"I need to step out for bit after breakfast, dears," said Mrs. Weasley, bringing his attention back to the present conversation. "And I realise you all probably have the good sense to stay inside the house, but I still want you to promise me you won't be going outside."

"Of course, Mum," said Weasley, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. The rest of the table murmured their assurance and Mrs. Weasley smiled as she pushed herself up from the table.

"I shouldn't be but an hour or two," said Mrs. Weasley as she conjured her hand-knitted poncho and cap. She leaned down and gave both her children a squeeze. "Be nice to each other. I don't want to hear there's been any trouble," she said firmly, giving Ron and Draco the eye as she pulled on her gloves. "I'll see you all soon." Then she hurriedly strode out the kitchen door.

As soon as Mrs. Weasley's footsteps had faded, Ron turned to Draco and seemed to contemplate him for a moment. Draco knew it was coming. He sat back in his chair and braced himself for another not-so-clever remark from Sir Isaac Weasley.

"So, Malfoy," said Weasley. "Are you ready to prove you're on our side?"

Draco kept his expression unreadable, but lifted a single brow. "I believe I've done that already, Weasley."

Granger cleared her throat. "What Ron is trying to say," she said stiffly, giving Weasley a disapproving look, "is...we were wondering if you would be interested in teaching us how to do a few of those spells you used in battle? They were quite effective."

Draco casually took another drink of his pumpkin juice before answering. "You want me to teach you how to do dark magic. Is that what you're asking?" He paused. "Isn't that illegal, Granger?" It was impossible to halt the slight taunt.

Granger slowly turned her head so she was looking at him face to face. "Sometimes rules must be broken for the greater good," she said quietly, her gaze never wavering. "Besides, it's not like anyone has to know."

Draco's jaw nearly dropped. He couldn't believe little Miss-We-Must-Recite-The-Prefects-Pledge-Before-Every-Meeting-Because-It Says-So-In-The-Handbook had just said that.

"The fact is," she continued, "there will surely come a time when we will have to face those who are skilled in the Dark Arts once again, whether they be Death Eaters or some other kind of Dark wizard. And we might not have the benefit of trees," she glanced at Potter and her expression softened, "or desks...or even doors, for that matter." She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin a notch as she looked his way again. "So...we need to arm ourselves with as much knowledge as we can and you can help us. I've seen you fight. You are more than capable. We all know that."

Astonished, Draco said nothing as he slowly glanced around the table and his eyes came to rest on Potter. He seemed to be weighing Granger's words, but then his eyes suddenly met his.

"She's right, Malfoy," Potter said, his tone neutral.

Draco glanced at Elizabeth and she smiled. "They say everything happens for a reason." She shrugged. "Maybe this is yours."

He suddenly felt a mild electrical shock and he looked down to find Ginny's hand resting on his. He glanced back up and his steel gaze met hers. So much for distance, he silently mused. She gave him a hesitant smile. "We need you in this, Malfoy. Will you help us?"

Need. The word was strange to him. He couldn't ever recall anyone saying they needed him before. Want...yes, many times, but need...never. He wasn't certain what to make of it. Draco instinctively swallowed as he shook his head and peered around at the rest of the group. They didn't know what they were asking. "There's more to doing dark magic then merely flicking your wand and saying the correct incantation, Ginny," he said quietly. "You have to really mean it. You have to want to hurt someone badly, to see their blood burst from their body. Dark magic cannot be done effectively otherwise. Most wizards are not suited for it." Draco paused as he glanced over at Potter. "You could probably learn. But I doubt Weasley and Granger would have the stomach for it."

Weasley's face flushed red and he growled, "I resent that, Malfoy! You don't know us well enough...."

"Don't I?" Draco snapped as he turned cold eyes on Weasley. "Tell me Weasley, have you ever willingly caused pain to anyone? Have you ever watched the life seep out of another living soul? Have you ever heard the cracking of a spinal cord as its being severed or the small gasp of breath as a man suddenly realises that it's his last? Have you ever seen someone tortured beyond human recognition, just to be healed and tortured again? To inflict dark magic, you have to feel it first, Weasley," sneered Draco. Weasley's face drained of colour as Draco's words sunk in and he noticeably swallowed. Draco took a deep breath, attempting to calm his sudden resentment, then continued, "I know you well enough to know you will never desire to experience what I have." Draco gave a bitter smile as he pushed himself up from the table. "To tell you the truth, I envy your naivety, not scorn it. Ignorance is bliss, after all...and much less painful." He casually lay down his napkin. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode from the kitchen.

No one said anything for several moments and the crackling of the fireplace was all that was heard.

"Shit...did he just say what I think he said?" asked Ron dully, looking as if he had just been smacked in the head with a frying pan. "Surely, his parents wouldn't have..."

"Wouldn't they?" Elizabeth quietly interrupted and Ron fell silent for a second time. She pushed herself up from the table. "I should go to him."

"Why?" asked Harry softly, catching her arm. "Others have had less than pleasant childhoods and haven't turned dark."

"Yes, but others aren't as strong," she said honestly.

Hermione turned to Elizabeth with a look of sudden realisation on her face. "You saw it...when you healed him...all of what they did to him. It's what you were trying to tell me in your letter?" she asked, her voice holding a slight tremble. "It's why he's always tried to be the best in everything? It's not just pride and arrogance. It's what will happen to him if he isn't."

Elizabeth hesitated, but then slowly nodded her head. "For him, there is no other option. At least, there never has been. Until now."

"But if he doesn't think we can learn dark magic, why did he offer to teach you, Elizabeth?" asked Ginny. Elizabeth looked up with a questioning gaze and Ginny blushed. "I heard him on the stairs," she answered evasively.

Elizabeth took a deep breath before answering. "He didn't say you couldn't learn. Only that he didn't think you had it in you to seriously hurt another." She gave a weak smile. "I think he was trying to say...it takes a great deal of hate and resentment to accomplish dark spells. Unfortunately, I have both. But I doubt I would ever have the strength to mortally injure anyone....even if I did have the skill."

"I could," said Ron firmly, glancing down at Hermione and reaching for her hand. "If someone I loved was being threatened. I wouldn't hesitate."

Elizabeth felt Harry's hand slide over hers and she slowly glanced down to meet his eyes and then silently pleaded, He's my friend, Harry. He has no one else.

Harry's eyes shifted to Ginny as she pushed herself up from the table and Elizabeth heard his whisper inside her head, Maybe he does...

"You stay. I'll go talk to him," said Ginny quickly as she walked past Elizabeth then strode out the door, ignoring the scowl on Ron's face.

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The mist was thick over the moor as he walked cautiously through the crumbling castle gate. A slight wind ruffled his hair and his nostrils flared as he attempted to catch the scent of the unknown enemy. His light grey eyes darted into every shadowed corner as he slowly walked past, taking in every aspect of the decaying bastion. It was a ideal place for an ambush; the dancing shadows of the disintegrating stone against the barely upright walls played havoc with his mind, and the putrid odour of rotting leaves effectively masked any smell of the villains within, leaving him with absolutely no hint of the creatures he was about to confront. A chill of anticipation raced through him, but he ignored it. Whatever they were, they were close. He could feel their eyes on him. They were stalking him, trying to discover a hidden weakness. His instincts were prickling with awareness and he absently gripped his wand tighter as he moved farther within the darkened courtyard. It was quiet. Too quiet. He suddenly became aware that the soft wind had vanished. He slowly circled, scanning the area and he could feel his heartbeat increase as he did so. Come on. Show yourself. I know you're here. Come and get me. A sudden sense of futility washed over him briefly and he quickly turned his head. His eyes lit on several shiny, round rocks that he didn't recall passing and a sinister smile crept across his handsome face. He silently raised his wand and muttered, "Stupefy!" several times, hitting each one in turn. The Pogrebins flopped harmlessly to the ground. Draco rolled his eyes. You would think a level nine trainer would have more to offer than annoying little pests, he thought disgustedly, kicking the nearest Pogrebin before it disappeared.

The next instant, he was tackled from behind. "Foutre!" he shouted as he hit the ground hard. Then he felt a searing pain as fangs sunk deep into his neck. A Vampire! Shit! He instinctively twisted his body violently to throw the creature off his back and he felt his flesh rip as the vampire was flung to the ground. Draco scrambled to his feet as the Vampire recovered and attempted to descend again. "Iubaris!" Draco shouted, and a magnificent beam of sunlight burst from his wandtip. There was an ear-piercing scream as the light hit the Vampire in the chest and then he burst into flames. The faint smell of burnt flesh lingered as Draco leaned onto his knees, trying to catch his breath. He put his hand up to his neck and cursed as it came away bloody. But the thought of his injury was wiped from his mind as a foul stench swirled through the air and the ground began to tremble beneath his feet. A moment later, two mountain trolls stepped out of the mist and into the courtyard.

Draco started to panic a bit as the closest, massive, club-bearing troll nearly caved in his head before he found shelter behind the remnants of a decaying wall. "Okay, maybe level nine wasn't such a great idea," he said to himself as he crouched in the shadows, dodging pieces of stone as they started to rain down on his head. He pushed himself up and raised his wand as he faced the grunting trolls. "Trainer termin...."

"Malfoy!"

Surprised, Draco turned his head. Ginny was sprinting toward the largest troll and throwing stunning spells in rapid succession, which did very little, but draw the troll's attention. A second later, the huge troll swung his club and barely missed her as she rolled away. Then she scrambled to her feet with cat-like reflexes, but was immediately knocked down by the backward swing of the troll's large fist. Draco ducked the second troll's club and sprinted through his legs, glancing toward Ginny who still lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. Draco's heart was hurled into his throat as the large troll turned and spotted Ginny once more. As the troll raised his club to deliver a crushing blow, Draco shouted, "TRAINER TERMINATE NOW!!"

Immediately, the dank walls of the exercitium room became visible once more and the trolls dissipated. Draco ran over to Ginny and dropped down onto his knees. "Ginny?" he whispered as he gently pulled her halfway into his arms, but he received no response. Blood was rolling down her forehead. Shit! He had no idea if she was seriously hurt. He had never been good at judging this sort of thing. But he remembered reading somewhere, head wounds were usually serious. The subtly rise and fall of Ginny's chest registered quickly in Draco's frazzled mind. She was breathing. That was good. At least, she wasn't dead. "Shit. Now what do I do?" Draco asked himself nervously, unaware that he was again speaking in French. Immediately, Elizabeth came to mind. "That's right; she'll know what to do. I just need to get her." Draco started to push himself up, but hesitated as he glanced back down at Ginny. "But you can't just leave her here, Draco, you bloody idiot!" He put his hand under her knees and lifted her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. Bloody hell, she weighs less than Granger's cat! Draco thought to himself as he pushed himself up off the floor. He strode out the door and in seconds, he was kicking the door to her bedroom open. Having no idea which of the two beds was actually hers, he picked the closest one and softly placed her down on the pillows. "You're going to be okay, Ginny," he whispered as he gently pulled his arm out from under her head then soothed her hair out of her face. "I promise." He started to turn away. Then suddenly Ginny's eyes sprang open and she grabbed his hand as she abruptly sat straight up in bed.

"The trolls!" she said, her voice full of panic as her eyes darted around the room.

"Are gone. They weren't real, Ginny," said Draco gently, disengaging his hand from hers as he sat down on the edge of her bed. When she looked up at him with confusion in her eyes, he let out a slight chuckle as a foreign feeling of relief washed over him. "You thought I was in trouble, but it was merely a training exercise. I was about to terminate it when you came bursting in to save me from my doom and almost succeeded in getting your head bashed-in in the process." Ginny's mouth formed a horrified O and her face turned blood red. Draco ignored her embarrassment and pulled his wand from his back pocket then conjured a bandage to stem the flow of blood as it continued to ooze from Ginny's head. "Gryffindors really are idiots," he said gruffly as he felt a sudden tightness settle in his chest.

Ginny frowned then reached out and touched his injured neck as Draco secured the bandage to her forehead. He winced and pulled away with a scowl. "If I'm such an idiot, why is your neck bleeding?" she said tartly, "Or is this not real either?" Defiantly, she held up her bloody fingertips to him.

He pushed her hand away as he stood. "No, that's just stupidity on my part," Draco sneered, turning away again and walking toward the door. "I'll get Elizabeth."

"Malfoy?"

Draco briefly looked over his shoulder as he opened the door. Ginny was touching the bandage on her forehead. She seemed to be trying to think of something to say. The sun was streaming through the window behind her, casting her face in shadow and causing her hair to resemble red-gold flames dancing around her shoulders. He felt a strange feeling as he watched her and he swallowed, feeling his throat become curiously dry. Without waiting for her to say anything else, Draco left the room and closed the door behind him.

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After Ginny left the room, Harry noticed Hermione watching him and Elizabeth with that look in her eye. The look that said she knew something, but was either waiting for the right moment to spit it out or was waiting for him to spill it himself. But really, the look didn't matter anymore. Because he could hear her thoughts, just as plainly as if she had spoken aloud and Harry smiled.

"Yes, Hermione," he answered and watched as Hermione's eyes became as round as saucers.

"I knew it," she said in amazement.

Ron, who had continued to scowl at the door long after Ginny had vanished through it, finally turned to look at his two best friends. "Knew what?" he said gruffly. "It better not be anything that involves my little sister and a certain Death Eater because if it is, I swear I'll kill him. To hell with truces!"

"No, no, Ron," said Hermione in a rush, pulling Ron back down into his seat. "It's nothing like that." She paused. "But if Ginny does have a 'thing' for Malfoy, I doubt there's anything you could do about it. Ginny has a mind of her own as you well know."

Ron snorted as Elizabeth slid back down in her seat, staring at Hermione. "You know about Harry?" she asked curiously.

"Well, I've had my suspicions for awhile, ever since Harry told us he was able to do wand-less magic," Hermione said with a smug smile. "And his ability to pick up spells without really trying to accomplish them was another clue and seemed much more than coincidence...Well, anyway...when you described what happened to you in the stone ring, nothing else seemed to fit and watching you both just now got me thinking again and Harry confirmed it by answering my question before I asked."

"All right!" said Ron impatiently. "Why am I the only one that has no clue what you three are talking about?"

"Actually, you're not, Ron," said Elizabeth slightly baffled, looking from Harry's frown to Hermione's impressed expression. "I have a feeling Hermione knows something else about Harry that we don't. Besides his ability to read minds that is."

"What?!" shouted Ron in disbelief, looking at Elizabeth like she was a tad off her rocker.

Harry gave Ron a lopsided grin. "No, she's not barking, Ron. You heard her right."

Ron gaped at Harry then sputtered, "W-What the hell, Harry? When did this happen?"

Harry shrugged. "Gradually, I guess." He glanced at Elizabeth. "But only after...Valentine's Day did the ability become pronounced."

"But that's not the only thing you can do, is it, Harry?" asked Hermione, matter-of-factly. Harry turned toward Hermione with a questioning look and she smiled. "You can absorb the abilities of others as well...temporarily, of course, but you can still do it. I suspect, that's how Elizabeth survived the Blade of Edere." Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's continued odd look and said, "Ohhh, watch." She pushed herself up from the table and walked over to the sideboard. She slid the butcher knife out of its block and returned to her seat. "Now, hold Elizabeth's hand. Stop looking at me like that and just do it," she snapped, sounding slightly nervous. Harry glanced at Elizabeth and shrugged then slid his hand under hers and entwined their fingers together. "Now, hold my hand," Hermione instructed, reaching her hand across the table. Harry did as he was told. Hermione hesitated from a brief moment. Then she took a deep breath and ran the butcher knife across the very hand Harry was holding, leaving a cut, two inches long.

"Hermione! What the hell are you doing?" yelled Ron, grabbing the knife away from her. "Have you gone mad?"

"Just wait," she hissed quietly.

A moment later, Harry felt a strange, burning feeling. It was as if someone had lit a match inside the small space between his and Elizabeth's hand and was now running it across the skin of his left forearm...left bicep...collar bone...right bicep...right forearm...right hand. He watched in amazement as Hermione's cut slowly started to heal and he felt a sting on his right hand as he absorbed the injury. A second later, the cut was gone and the only evidence that it had ever been was the small trail of blood that had rolled down the side of her hand. Hermione smiled as Harry ran his thumb across the area in disbelief then looked at the fading pink line on his right hand.

"Now, let go of Elizabeth's hand," instructed Hermione. But before Harry could do so, Elizabeth did it for him, eager to see what would happen next. Hermione took the knife back from a gaping Ron and repeated her actions. This time, her cut started to heal even before the blood could be release from her skin and she smiled up at Harry.

"I-I didn't know I could do that," he said honestly, still staring at Hermione's hand.

"It's a strange feeling, isn't it?" asked Elizabeth softly and Harry glanced back at her.

"It's like how you said...like fire is racing through you," he said, lifting his hand away from Hermione's and inspecting it, half expecting to see burn marks. Elizabeth smiled at his continued amazement, and then turned back to Hermione.

"Okay, all-powerful-knowledgeable-one," Elizabeth said teasingly. "What did you mean Harry can do wand-less magic?" She laughed as Harry flashed her a disgruntled look. "Sorry. I'd ask you, Harry. But clearly, Hermione knows more about you than you do."

Ron snorted. "That's nothing new."

"Well, so far, he's only been able to do wand-less magic when he's upset," Hermione informed Elizabeth. "Which isn't that unusual. Most wizards can do uncontrolled magic accidentally in high stress situations, but they can never predict what is going to happen. Harry has actually been able to focus things into happening from a very young age."

"Hello. Don't mind me. It's only my life you're telling her about," said Harry loudly, slightly put out. He didn't care for being talked about like he wasn't there.

Hermione just ignored him as she leaned onto the table. "He's made his hair grow, he made the front of a glass tank at the zoo vanish, and I bet loads more things that he hasn't told us. And just last year, he accomplished a Lumos spell when his wand wasn't even in his hand."

"Which means you shouldn't make me angry or I'll make your hair fall out, Hermione," Harry growled. But Hermione only smiled, completely unimpressed with his theatrical menace.

"You probably could, Harry," she said sweetly and Harry rolled his eyes.

Ron laughed. "Cool. So this is the Source power that Kreacher was talking about?" he asked and Hermione nodded.

"I'm sorry," said Elizabeth, shaking her head. "I'm unfamiliar with that term. What is a Source power?"

"It's the unusual power certain wizards or witches are born with," explained Hermione. "But unlike the power of Chime, it doesn't make itself known until later in life. Usually around puberty or slightly afterwards, mostly brought on by events of intense emotion and Harry's had plenty this year, as we all know." She paused. "Some become Seers, some are Healers, some are Channelers...But Harry's source power is very rare, I believe. It seems...if I'm correct...his source power is Zyrechallen."

"Czar Challege?" asked Ron puzzled. "Isn't that a Russian king or something?"

"No, Zyrechallen, Ron," corrected Hermione. "Though mostly commonly referred to as Challen. It's the same recorded Source power as Mer...."

But before Hermione could finish, the door to the kitchen swung open and Draco strode through. "Ginny needs you, Elizabeth," he said abruptly, glancing briefly at Ron before continuing. "There was a small accident in the exercitium room," he said evasively. "She has a nasty gash on her head."

"What did you do, Malfoy?" charged Ron as they all sprang from their seats. But Draco ignored him as he turned to follow Elizabeth up the stairs.

In less than a minute, they were all striding through the bedroom door. Ginny was sitting up on the side of her bed with Crookshanks on her lap. She blushed when she spotted all of their concerned faces and shook her head. "Really, it's nothing," she said quickly as Elizabeth sat down on the edge of her bed and batted her hand away so she could remove the bandage. "Malfoy's neck looks much worse than my little cut. He needs the attention more than me," she insisted.

"All head wounds are potentially serious, Ginny," chided Elizabeth. "I'm sure Draco knows this. That's why he fetched me. Now be still and let me have a proper look. Umm...it's not too bad...but it will leave a scar if it's not healed properly. You don't mind if I just..." Elizabeth placed her hand over the wound without waiting for an answer and a second later, it was gone. "There. No harm done," she said with a smile. Ginny touched her head and gave Elizabeth a strange look.

"I'm sorry, but that's just bloody weird," she said as she watched her injury fade from Elizabeth's forehead.

"How did you get hurt, Ginny?" asked Ron as he turned to glare over his shoulder at Draco, who was leaning against the wall directly behind him. "So help me if he hurt you..."

"Oh, stop being such a git, Ron!" said Ginny gruffly. "Malfoy didn't do anything. It was my fault." She paused then tilted her head and shared a secret smile with Draco. "I had an idiotic Gryffindor moment, that's all."

"What?" said Ron, sounding confused.

Ginny took a deep breath and quickly explained what had happened with as few details as possible. "So, you see, it was entirely my fault. I just didn't think things through before I reacted."

"Yeah, well," said Ron. "He shouldn't have tried to take on two mountain trolls by himself."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I swear, Ron. Hermione's right. You never listen," she said in exasperation. "I just told you he wasn't. He was in the middle of terminating the training program when I decided to pull a Harry." Ginny covered her mouth and turned a deeper shade of red as she glanced at Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry. I mean...well...Damn. I just pulled a Ron, didn't I?" She rolled her eyes again and flopped back on the bed as Elizabeth and Hermione struggled to suppress their giggles. "Bloody hell. I've been around you two for far too long. Blast it. You're starting to rub off," she muttered in disgust as she stared at the ceiling and Elizabeth and Hermione busted out laughing.

"Well, really," pouted Ron as he glanced from Harry to the laughing women back to Harry. "I'm beginning to think our special skills aren't appreciated round here, Harry."

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched as he turned toward the door. "You captured my thoughts exactly, mate," he said, clapping his friend on the shoulder, unable to suppress his smile any longer. "Come on. Let's figure out how to use the exercitium room while they recover from their fit of madness."

"Hold on," said Elizabeth, recovering abruptly from her giggles and craning her neck to peer around Harry and Ron. "I need to see to Draco. Where did he go?"

"Probably as far away from you three nutters as possible. And I, for one, can't blame him," said Ron shortly, as he followed Harry out the door. "Don't worry. He's a big boy. If he wants to be healed, he knows where to find you."

Elizabeth watched them go with a smile on her face. "Hmmm....you think we hurt their feelings?"

"No," said Ginny as she sat back up on her bed. "It would take a whole crew of demolition wizards to accomplish that."

Hermione didn't look quite as certain as she pushed herself off Ginny's bed. "Come on. You should probably show them how to use the room, Elizabeth, before they end up conjuring the same trolls Malfoy did." She paused. "And we should probably apologise for finding Ginny's...umm...slips entertaining."

"I guess, you probably right," Elizabeth said as she came to her feet. She turned around and glanced down at Ginny. "Are you coming?" she asked when Ginny didn't move to follow.

Ginny shook her head. "I think I've had enough of that room for one day," she said with a weak smile. "Besides, I really need to study. If I don't get more O.W.L.s than Ron, he'll never let me hear the end of it."

"Would you like me to stay and help?" asked Hermione.

"No, that's all right. You go ahead. I need to fetch a couple books I left in the library anyway," said Ginny as she reluctantly pushed herself up from her bed. Crookshanks nudged her hand with his head and she turned to pick him up. "Don't worry. I have Crookshanks to keep me company," she said, scratching his head with a smile. She glanced up at Elizabeth. "Oh. By the way, thanks for this," Ginny said pointing to her head.

"Think nothing of it," said Elizabeth waving her off as she strode to the door then paused and looked over her shoulder at Ginny. "But you might want to clean yourself up before your mum returns."

Ginny brought her fingers to her hairline and felt the dried blood that had congealed in her hair. "Oh, right. Thanks for reminding me. She definitely would have noticed."

"See you later, Ginny," said Hermione as she followed Elizabeth out the door.

Ginny walked over to the small mirror on the wall and grimaced. "No wonder Draco ran away. Don't I look a sight?" She suddenly frowned. "And why the hell am I calling him Draco?" she softly growled to herself. She shook her head then gently put Crookshanks on the floor and pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at her hair. "Scourgify." The dried blood vanished, but she still didn't feel completely clean. Figuring a bath would do the trick, she summoned her robe and clean undergarments with two quick flicks of her wand and grabbed her cleansing potions. Then she strode out the door and down the hall to the washroom.

She smiled as she opened the door and quietly shut it behind her. She secretly loved this washroom. It was nearly five times as big as the one back home at the Burrow, roughly the size of the DA room at Hogwarts, with both a shower and an overly-large bathtub and two, black porcelain sinks. The silver serpent fixtures that winked in the dim light of the gas lamps were beautiful in her opinion, especially since the house-elves had removed all the tarnish from them. They went well with the black marble tile of the floor, shower and bathtub.

She pulled two fluffy towels from the shelf over the sink and laid her things in the nearby chair and hummed softly to herself as she walked over to the tub. She carefully sat down on the edge then leaned over to turn on the faucet and slightly cringed when the pipes let out their usual horrible moan before hot water spewed from the tap. After testing the water and adjusting the knobs several times to find the right temperature, she stood and shed her clothes. She shivered slightly as she stepped into the tub then slowly lowered herself into the water, immediately allowing herself to sink beneath the surface to douse her hair. Then she reached for her favourite hair cleansing potion. She poured a small amount in her hand and sniffed before applying it to her hair. It smelled like strawberries and vanilla and reminded her of the tarts her mum always made. She started humming softly again as she lathered her hair and massaged her scalp, allowing the water to ease the tenseness from her muscles. Then she grabbed a hold of the side of the tub and arched her back to thoroughly rinse the suds from her hair.

"You know, rinsing your hair with clean water would probably be best."

Ginny started and almost slipped under the water again before catching herself. She jerked her head around to look behind her as she swiped the water from her eyes and felt her heart leap into her throat. Draco was leaning against the sink closest to the shower, a towel draped precariously about his waist. He had obviously left her bedroom to take a shower and she had entered shortly after he had finished. His clothes were resting in the chair to the right of him, but he didn't look in a hurry to cover himself. She could see the droplets of water that still clung to his body and her face flushed with far more than embarrassment. She had always grudgingly thought him handsome and she had seen the male body before. How could she not, having six brothers? But she had never imagined seeing one so perfectly formed as the one that casually stood behind her now. He was exquisite. There was, really, no other word to describe him; from the top of his silver-blonde head to the tips of his perfectly manicured toes. She turned instinctively to get a better view, not caring that she was allowing him a better a view as well. With every breath he took, the muscles of his abdomen softly rippled under his crossed arms, and there was a faint trail of blonde hair leading down into the towel. The sight of him was affecting her dangerously more than she wanted him to know. Even the small bandage on his neck looked damn appealing. She pulled her eyes away from his body and forced them to focus on his face. Unfortunately, the look in his eyes didn't make things easier. She knew she should be embarrassed. She should be shrieking indignantly in feigned maiden modesty, but she wasn't. Her brothers had squashed any trace of modesty from her long ago, and she didn't feel like pretending now.

Besides, she wasn't oblivious to the fact that she had a well formed body. She had eyes. Puberty had rounded her once boyish figure, and Quidditch had toned her muscles adequately enough without adding bulk. In the past year and a half, she had received enough attention from the opposite sex to confirm she was more than pleasing to the eye. Hadn't Dean called her beautiful numerous times? Of course, he was trying to get into her knickers most of those times, which left her feeling more than suspicious regarding the compliment. And the sad truth was, she had never really felt beautiful.

Until now. The way Draco was looking at her suddenly left no doubt in her mind, and delighted her to no end.

"Someone should put a bell around your neck, Draco. You're far too good at sneaking up on people," she said matter-of factly, with only a hint of emotion in her voice.

He gave her a seductive smile. "Curious, I was about to say the same about you. Seeing as you were the one who invaded my privacy to begin with." He pushed himself away from the sink and slowly started toward her. "Not that I'm complaining," he said, allowing his eyes to openly admire her body.

She wasn't really surprised at his forwardness and secretly, she enjoyed it. He was still Draco Malfoy after all. But she knew she couldn't let him get away with it. Ginny arched an eyebrow and said with as much menace as she could muster, "I wouldn't come any closer if I were you."

"Why?" Draco softly challenged. "I want to...And if I'm not mistaken," He smiled again, "and I rarely am...you want me to as well."

He was right. She knew it. But she'd be damned if she let him know it. Ginny slowly pushed herself up, careful to keep eye contact and determined not blush. She gracefully stepped out of the tub as Draco came to stand in front of her. She looked him in the eye for a minute longer, enjoying the desire she saw reflected there. Then she realised she had seen that look in his eyes before and she frowned. It hadn't been aimed at her. He had been watching Elizabeth at the time. She suddenly felt very foolish. When he raised his hand to draw her close, she took a step back. "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else," she said haughtly as she reached for her robe and quickly slipped it on. Her throat felt tight. "You of all people should know you don't always get what you want," she whispered huskily, as she cinched the belt at her waist with a dangerous glint in her eye. "And I won't be a substitute." Then she slowly turned and forced herself to walk to the door, a small part of her silently cursing her pride with every step she took away from him.

Draco silently watched Ginny vanish through the door, feeling slightly puzzled. Where had that come from? Substitute? For bloody who? He shook his head as he let the towel drop to the floor. Women were an insane mystery. One that he had no desire to figure out at the moment. She had wanted him. That fact was obvious. And her brazen examination of him had quickly left him in an uncomfortable state indeed. Especially since her eyes had turned that smoky brown colour. Damn! The tease! Surely, she noticed. He let out a soft growl as he walked back into the shower and turned on the cold water. Bloody hell! He cursed as the water stung his burning flesh and made his muscles involuntarily contract. He was in sore need of another bloody work out.