Moonlight on Malfoy Manor

Chapter 2 - Quidditch!; 'shocking' homework; 'are you hot or not'; of cats, owls, rats and a dragon!

Harry watched from the air as his team landed on the smooth surface of the pitch. He was feeling exhilarated, it had been a good practice session and as Captain, Harry was jubilantly looking forward to an extremely good season. His team was the best, he was sure of that. Not only were the members individually talented, they also worked seamlessly as a team. Ron had switched from keeping to chasing and Ginny had gladly handed over her position of seeker to Harry and replaced her brother at the goal posts. Harry did one more lap of the pitch before coming in for a landing where his tired but happy team awaited him. They started walking towards the exit, back towards the castle. All the chattering and laughing abruptly ceased when they saw the green robes of the team approaching them from the opposite side.

Draco Malfoy had not been having a good day. He had managed to fall asleep only after dawn and had consequently missed breakfast. A mad dash to Madam Hooch's office had gotten him there ahead of the Hufflepuff Captain, just in time to book the pitch for evening practice. After lunch he had, unintentionally, fallen asleep in front of the fire after having scribbled four lines on a piece of parchment that was supposed to be his History of Magic essay. Blaise, who was already dressed in Quidditch robes, her brilliant hair pulled back in a comfortable braid, had cautiously shaken him awake. He had shrugged on his green robe on top of the jeans and trainers he had fallen asleep in, hoisted his broom and headed out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, feeling completely disgusted with himself. Blaise's cheerful enquiry about homework had woken him up with a jolt. He had not touched a single assignment all week. Momentary panic gripped him as he realized he had only tonight to finish everything. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. One more sleepless night would hardly be a problem. First things first, he had to see how his team functioned and assess their chances for the cup this year. All thoughts were forgotten as he spotted Harry leading his team towards the exit. His eyes fell immediately on Ginny, just to the left and slightly behind Harry. She was glowing; Draco couldn't help but stare. But the smiles faded and the chattering ceased as the Gryffindors caught sight of the Slytherins. Draco mentally resolved to ignore them - he was in no mood for a parry of words and simply too exhausted for an actual physical fight.

The pitch entrance was only wide enough to allow two people to pass through at a time. The two teams unconsciously pressed themselves into single files behind their respective Captains. Harry's hand had tightened on his broom, his mind geared up for the assault...but none came. Draco passed him without a word or a glance and Harry felt decidedly miffed. However Malcolm Baddock, Slytherin chaser had other ideas.

"Its good to know we won't have to alter the lyrics too much. They have another Weasley as keeper," Malcolm commented to Blaise who was just ahead of him. Blaise smiled unpleasantly as she eyed Ginny from head to foot.

"Honestly, not one but two. I can understand Potter feeling sorry for them but to put two on his team is just idiotic," she replied breezily.

The two teams froze, the Slytherins inside and the Gryffindors outside the pitch. Draco closed his eyes and cursed inwardly; he would really have to speak to Blaise about encouraging that Baddock boy. But when he turned his sneer was firmly in place.

"You have to remember he is the Great Harry Potter, his charity knows no bounds." Draco drawled. "Just look at the company he keeps, wait a moment, he seems to have lost one of his pets.... whats-her-name?" He looked to his teammates as if for assistance.

"The one with the bushy hair and beaver teeth."

"Darling, do you mean that know it all Granger girl?" Blaise supplied.

"That's the one." Draco smirked as he draped an arm around Blaise.

"Got tired of her and threw her back where you found her, Potter?" Malcolm quipped. Draco was getting seriously annoyed with him, as was Ron.

"You watch your mouth, you..." Ron floundered unable to come up with a worthy insult. The only thing keeping him from pounding Malcolm senseless was the fact that his entire team was holding him back. Draco stepped in front of his team, his face alight with malicious amusement.

"Oh look, it's trying to think," he drawled. The Slytherins snickered, just as Ron broke free of his teammates' grasp and grabbed Draco by the front of his robes. Draco stood his ground, his only reaction was to hold up a hand to signal his teammates not to assault the Gryffindor currently attached to the front of his robes. He calmly returned Ron's glare.

"This must be the Weasley plan B," he said scathingly. "When in doubt, act like a troll."

"Ron, let him go," Harry's voice was low and steady as he stood just behind Ron. Ron gave no indication of having heard him.

"Ron, let him go, he isn't worth it," Ginny tugged on her brother's shoulder.

"Listen to the girl, Weasley. Or I will make you regret it." Draco's voice was deadly soft, eyes glittered dangerously, all trace of amusement gone.

"What is going on here? Mr. Weasley, release Mr. Malfoy at once." And Madam Hooch was among them. Upon checking her pitch bookings Madam Hooch had realized that the Slytherins were slated to use the pitch right after the Gryffindors. Muttering colourful words at her own carelessness she had grabbed her wand and headed for the pitch, arriving just in the nick of time or so she imagined.

After having sent the Gryffindors on the their way with dire warnings, Madam Hooch took herself off to the stands just in case more trouble broke out. As soon as she was out of hearing Malcolm spoke up again

"Cowards! You should have bopped him one Draco. Teach those goody Gryffindors a lesson." Draco whirled around and fixed glittering silver eyes full on Malcolm. He did not look amused; Malcolm gulped.

"Baddock, from now on you will only speak when spoken too," he said softly. "Is that clear?" Malcolm nodded weakly.

"The rest of you, in the air. NOW!" he barked. He waited till every last member of the team was in the air before he kicked off himself. He was still angry, but his anger abated somewhat when he left the ground and felt the rush of the cool October air.

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After a rigorous practice session and a hasty dinner, Draco gathered his books and headed for the library. Once there he settled down to do some serious work. After a few hours of hard research and fast writing Draco sat back and rubbed his tired eyes. Where had the week gone? He had been so pre-occupied that he had done zero homework and now he was forced to zip through a week's worth of essays at lightening speed. What was wrong with him? He was never this disorganized, never. He usually worked on a very strict schedule. One had to be organized when contending with the Hermione Grangers of this world. He simply could not afford to be lax; it would just give his father another reason to rail at him. He shook his head and picked up his quill. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone enter the empty library. He looked up and groaned aloud as the subject of his countless ruminations stepped in. Draco gritted his teeth and turned his attention back to his parchment.

'Well, this just makes my day perfect,' he thought dryly.

Ginny cursed silently. 'Serve me right to leave my Potions essay till the end,' she mentally kicked herself. Snape would be absolutely delighted. A mental image of Snape dancing the jig while crowing with delight flashed across her mind and she groaned aloud pressing her head in her hands. That was the last thing she needed to think about right now.

It was Sunday night and the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Harry and Ron were sitting at their usual place by the fire and judging by the state of her brother's hair, which was sticking up in all directions, and the exasperated looks that Harry kept giving Hermione, they were probably doing last minute homework as well. Ginny sighed as she realized that there was no way around it, she would have to go to the library, and so she gathered her quill and parchments and headed out. The library was empty except for one student who was sitting amid tottering piles of books.

'Well, this just makes my day perfect,' Ginny thought dryly.

Ginny quickly realized that she had no choice, she had to walk past him to get to the shelf she needed. Resolved to ignore him, Ginny gritted her teeth and walked towards Draco. He did not look up but simply continued scribbling. Out of curiosity she peeked at his work as she passed - row upon row of neat, measured writing met her gaze. Despite herself Ginny was impressed.

'Must have used some sort of neatness spell,' she thought uncharitably. Having reached the relative safety of the shelves Ginny sighed in unconscious relief and began searching for One Thousand and One Potions Ingredients, but to no avail. She glanced over at Draco's table and saw perched precariously on the corner with the spine turned towards her One Thousand and One Potions Ingredients. This was just not her day.

'Ginny Weasley do not be a coward, he is just a guy. What is the worst he can do??? No, don't answer that.' Before she lost her nerve she walked over to Draco stood beside his chair and laid a hand on the book.

"Are you done with this?" she queried. Draco stopped writing, put down his quill, leaned back, looked up at her...and kept looking. Unabashed Ginny looked straight back. She had never seen the Immaculate Malfoy like this. His almost-white hair, usually slicked back in perfect symmetry, was falling all around his face; his open shirt collar was sweat streaked and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal ink-stained hands and wrists. Ginny raised her eyebrows in surprise - a disheveled Draco Malfoy?! She couldn't wait to tell the girls! Everyone knew Malfoy cleaned up beautifully, but Ginny was sure she was one of the privileged few that knew Malfoy also crumpled up nicely, really really nicely.

"You should leave your hair like that more often. It looks nice," she said conversationally - after all, a crumpled-up Malfoy was far less intimidating.

"Thanks for the fashion tip Weasley. I'll try to forget it as fast as I can," he drawled.

"Is there something you wanted?" he added condescendingly. Ginny snatched up the book and shoved it towards his face. He didn't even flinch. He simply took it from her and turned it over in his hands as if he had never seen it before.

"Why do you need this?" He sounded genuinely puzzled, but with Malfoy it was so hard to tell.

"To stoke up the common room fire, its burning low," Ginny stated matter-of-factly as Draco merely looked at her with a blank expression. Ginny felt annoyed. Why was it that when he made jokes like that it was wit, and when she did it was just stupid?

"For Potions, why else?" she snapped. Draco regarded her glowering at him and smiled lazily.

"Ah yes, the famous Weasley temper - goes so well the hair. But you still haven't answered my question. What do you need this for?"

Ginny started counting to ten mentally, he was irritating her on purpose she knew, but she couldn't give in because she really needed that book.

"Properties of Mudwort," she replied through gritted teeth.

"You need a book for that?"

"Oh and I suppose you have that information stocked in your non-existent brain."

"That would be a contradiction in terms, Weasley. One cannot stock anything in that which is non-existent."

"So sorry Professor. Of course you are right Professor."

Draco rolled his eyes. "As a matter of fact the properties of Mudwort are..." Ginny's eyes widened as he rattled off.

"Parchment and quill, Weasley. You don't expect me to write this down for you as well, I hope?" Draco snapped in the middle of his rendition. Ginny dived into her book bag, pulled up a chair opposite to him and began to scribble at top speed. A few minutes later Draco pulled her parchment towards him before Ginny could stop him. He ran his eyes over it and then turned incredulous silver-gray eyes towards her.

"Can you actually read this?? You haven't put a Confundus Charm on this parchment by any chance, have you?"

"No, I have not," Ginny snapped as she snatched her parchment back and glared at him.

"Well, anyway you should have about 20 points in all, add an introductory paragraph and a conclusion. And try not to rattle on as you Gryffindors are wont to do."

"We do not rattle on."

"When you have no clue what to say, which is nearly always, you rattle on in the hopes that you'll actually make sense somewhere along the way."

"Careful Malfoy, one would think you actually pay attention to what we Gryffindors do," Ginny replied. Somewhere at the back of her mind she was paralyzed with amazement. Draco Malfoy was helping her with homework. But she wisely chose to ignore that part till such time as she was not being confronted with a veritable mine of Potions information.

"Anything else?" she asked brightly. Draco was suddenly feeling very, very tired. Some part of his exhausted brain knew that the fact that he was actually helping a Weasley with homework was absolutely horrifying. But right now he really couldn't be bothered. All he wanted to do was find a bed, any bed and curl up for the next twenty years or so. But he couldn't, not with those nightmares... he shuddered.

Ginny was running her eyes over the stacks of books on the table. There was everything from Rune dictionaries to Arithmancy tables to Potions. A neat stack of parchments on one side of the table covered with Draco's even writing could only be completed assignments. And as there was a whole stack of them, there could be only one explanation - Malfoy was behind on his homework. She couldn't wait to tell Hermione, she would be absolutely thrilled abou...

"Weasley - " Draco's voice snapped her out of her reverie and the smile she had worn faded. Draco was looking at her through narrowed silver eyes, lips pulled into a thin hard line.

"You tell anyone about this," he said quietly, "anyone at all, and I'll make sure your homework never reaches Snape's desk."

"But you're not in my year," Ginny pointed out nervously.

"And of course there isn't a single sixth year in all of Slytherin House."

"Don't worry Malfoy, I'm as ashamed of where I got this information as you are of giving it to me. I was desperate, what's your excuse?"

"I am obviously exhausted to the point of delirium."

"Fine. Then I guess this little session never happened. But I'm too well bred to not thank you, and offer to help you in return."

"I do not need your help Weasley. And if I did, I'd rather take Lupin out to dinner on a full-moon night than ask you."

"Whatever Malfoy. Goodnight." And she was gone. Draco sat looking at the empty space where her face had been, before picking up his quill and getting back to work.

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The Great Hall was practically empty when Harry and Ron entered for breakfast; even the teachers had not arrived. This had, of course been planned; Ron had snagged Ginny's copy of Teen Witch Weekly so that he and Harry could read the latest article on 'Budding Relationships - How Not to Nip Them In The Bud'. Both Harry, who had discovered a fancy for a pretty Ravenclaw sixth year named Alice, and Ron believed themselves in need of all the help they could get. So they rose early and went down to breakfast to avoid curious housemates and awkward questions. Not to mention the inhuman amount of leg pulling they would have to endure should they ever get caught with a magazine like TWW.

They settled down at on end of the nearly empty Gryffindor table and began to flip through the pages. They were so engrossed that they didn't notice Draco, Blaise and their Slytherin fan club saunter in.

"What do you think their so busy over?" Malcolm asked no one in particular, nodding towards Harry and Ron's bent heads.

"Looks like some kind of magazine," Blaise volunteered.

"Teen Witch Weekly," Draco stated absently, busy filling his plate with scrambled eggs.

"No way!" Marchand exclaimed, "How do you know?"

"Because I have eyes that actually work," Draco replied in mock seriousness.

"Bet you five galleons it isn't TWW." Draco looked at Marchand with narrowed eyes and smiled mischievously. Then in one fluid movement he pushed back his chair and rose.

Harry and Ron were startled as long, pale fingers plucked the magazine out of their grasp. They whirled around to find Draco Malfoy triumphantly waving it across the Great Hall.

"You owe me five galleons, Marchand," he yelled across to the Slytherin table.

"You're betting on us now, Malfoy?" Harry stood and faced him, his face flushed.

"What else are you Gryffindors good for?" Draco drawled casually looking to see which article had The-Boy-Who-Lived and his carrot-top sidekick so engrossed.

"I don't believe it!" he exclaimed. "You're taking the 'Am I Hot or Not Quiz'!" he crowed.

"Give it back Malfoy!" a red-faced Ron made a lunge at Draco, which Draco dodged with ease.

"Oh! No, no, no Weasel. You must share this with the rest of the assembly. It is of great educational benefit to us mere mortals." Draco stepped onto the dais and leaned back against the teacher's table. Ron vaulted over the bench and made a lunge at Draco again but found his path blocked by Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe was snarling and Goyle was cracking his knuckles.

"Still need henchmen to protect you Malfoy?" Harry snarled.

"I'm a lover not a fighter, Potter. Hadn't you noticed?" Draco pouted, looking hurt at Harry's lack of observational skills. By now Draco had garnered the attention of the few students that were already in the Hall, but more were arriving rapidly and in less than a few minutes the Hall would be full.

"Alright, quills at the ready? First question to Mr. Potter; 'When awakened by the doorbell while sleeping in the buff - 'buff' Potter?" Draco smiled deviously as several girls sighed. Harry clenched his fists and glared at Draco. Draco merely cleared his throat and continued.

" - while sleeping in the buff, do you, (a) think 'I'm not expecting company, I need my beauty sleep? Beauty sleep, very essential commodity... am I right Weasley?" Ron now nearly crazy with rage, tried to push past Crabbe and Goyle only to be pushed right back for his trouble.

"(b) Ask who it is and throw on an oversized t-shirt before answering? Sorry, Potter I'm going to withdraw that option. Or (c) sprint perfume, fluff up your hair and envelope yourself in a sheet before answering? I give you Harry Potter in a toga ladies...and gentlemen." There was a burst of applause at this as Draco bowed gracefully and kissed his fingers to the now crowded Great Hall.

"Question two..." Harry stopped listening. Draco was on a roll and the entire school seemed to be enjoying his embarrassment.

"Question two to Mr. Weasley. 'You are in class and get a run in you stockings; you - (a) Peel them off. In class, Weasley?! (b) Patch them up with a quick spell. Or (c) Never wear stockings. Come along Weasley, let's see a little leg. No? Spoilsport!" Ron had decided to drape his dignity about himself and now stood as if carved in stone, with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. This suggestion was greeted with enthusiasm by the rest of the Hall however. The Slytherins and quite a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs gave catcalls and clapped hard.

"Moving right along." Draco was keeping one wary eye on the door and was ready to suspend all 'questionable activity' the second a teacher appeared in the doorway.

"Question three to Mr. Potter. 'You are introduced to an up and coming photographer at a party and he asks you to pose nude' - oh my!" Draco exclaimed as the Hall once more erupted into loud clapping and cheering. Draco was obliged to wait a few moments till the noise died down before he could resume questioning.

"You (a) Throw your drink in his face? Now really Potter! Is that anyway to behave?" Draco admonished Harry as if he really had committed this vile breach of etiquette when in truth Harry hadn't even moved. But Draco refused to let this spoil his fun.

"(b) Tell him you have to loose fifteen pounds first? In which case there won't be much left to photograph." Draco ran his eye critically over both boys as he said this and the Hall agreed with him.

"(c) Ask "black, white or color?" The Hall proclaimed its choice with hoots, yells, screams and vigorous table thumping.

"Be sure to send around autographed copies, Ron," called a female voice. Ron's head snapped up and his face registered complete shock.

"Atta boy Weasel! We all knew you had it in you. Didn't we?" Draco asked the crowd who roared back its agreement. Just then the magazine came soaring over Crabbe and Goyle's heads and flew straight towards Harry who caught it reflexively. Draco hopped gracefully down from the dais as the Hall quieted down and Professor Snape, black robes billowing entered the Hall and made his way straight towards the Gryffindor table. Harry quickly hid the magazine behind his back.

"What are you doing here Mr. Malfoy?" he enquired icily.

"Just wishing my fellow students a pleasant good morning, Professor," Draco replied without missing a beat. He smiled at Snape, exuding innocence. Snape regarded him for a moment with narrowed eyes. He looked at Harry and Ron looking flustered, and Crabbe and Goyle standing quietly by.

"Very well. Return to you table Mr. Malfoy, unless you would care to breakfast at the Gryffindor table with your 'fellow students'." Draco smiled politely and returned to his own table.

Hermione plonked down beside Harry and Ron a good five minutes later. She took one look at the two of them and immediately asked what was wrong. Neither replied. Harry glared across at the Slytherin table and caught Draco's eye, Draco smiled mischievously and... winked! Harry's eyes widened in surprise and he was overcome by a sudden desire to laugh. He suppressed a smile and gazed into his porridge.

"Malfoy is sausage meat!" Ron hissed. Harry looked at Ron with a strange expression.

"Well... it was kind of... funny."

"Kind of funny..." Ron spluttered in amazement. Then he caught the look in Harry's eye and a smile fought its way to the surface. With one accord both boys jumped up and bolted out of the Great Hall. Once safely out of hearing they collapsed and laughed till their sides ached.

"Make no mistake," Ron gasped, "I'm still going to kill that bugger."

"Take a number and get in line," Harry retorted as they were joined by an exasperated Hermione who demanded to know just exactly what they were doing. Harry and Ron took one look at her irate expression and burst into fits of giggles. Hermione rolled her eyes, declared them both quite mad and stalked off to her morning class.

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Draco stood and watched his Eagle owl fly away, till it got lost in the pitch black of the night sky. It was late, very late - but he did not want to go back to the common room. He was afraid to let go of the few moments of peace and quiet that he had come across in the owlery. It had become so rare now days for him to feel peace, experience quiet. Anger, hatred, loathing, anxiety, exhaustion and fear - gut wrenching fear - were all he felt. Strange - Draco Malfoy afraid! No one would believe that, and yet it was true. He hadn't been afraid in a long time, not since... but he wouldn't dwell on it. Not now! He leaned against the window, more out of exhaustion than relaxation, and watched the night sky, letting his mind wander. Draco stood like that for a while and then he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. He turned around...

Ginny hated Crookshanks! Well, not exactly hated, but was definitely going to give that cat a piece of her mind when she found him. If she found him! She'd been looking for the past half hour, and there was no sign of Crookshanks. The only place left to look in was the owlery, and like all searches, she was sure she'd find him in the last place she looked.

"Stalking me now, Weasley?" Draco drawled as Ginny entered the owlery. Could her day have possibly ended on a worse note? Ginny wondered.

"Not unless someone threatened with an unforgivable curse, Malfoy?" Draco raised an eyebrow in mock shock.

"If you must know, I am looking for Hermione's cat."

"The heaven's must be smiling upon you Weasley. You started out by looking for that ugly mutt and found me instead."

"What's the difference, Malfoy?" came the exasperated reply.

"Good comeback, Weasley. Never thought your tongue could run that fast without you tripping over it."

"Step away from the window, Malfoy, there's enough crap on the floor without me adding my vomit to it."

"Now, now, Weasley. I suggest you mind that tongue of yours. Or I might just take points off Gryffindor."

Ginny looked straight at him, "Okay, go ahead."

"But its no fun when you agree," came the petulant reply.

"I'm sorry Malfoy, but everyone was not put on this earth to entertain you," Ginny snapped and started to stalk out of the owlery.

"Hey! Hang on, where do you think your going?" Draco followed Ginny.

"Back to my dorm. You got a problem with that?"

"Well you can't just wander around alone. What if something happened?" and even as he finished speaking, Draco could not believe he'd said that. And apparently neither could Ginny,

"I've met you already, Malfoy. What's the worst that can happen now?" Draco looked a little hurt, and then gave a pointed look.

"You could bump into Peeves, Mrs. Norris or better yet, you could run right into the arms of a waiting Filch." Ginny suppressed a gasp, realizing that she had forgotten all about the dangers of roaming in the castle at night after stepping into the owlery. As Draco saw her troubled eyes cloud over and the wheels in her brain turning, he was overcome by the intense desire that she stay for a little longer. The rational part of his brain kept telling him, that there was something seriously wrong with him for wanting Ginny Weasley to stay. But another part of his brain, which had nothing to do with the rational part, hoped that she would stay. Though for what purpose, both the halves of his brain had yet to ascertain.

"If you want, I could come with you part of the way." Ginny's head shot up.

"What?!"

"You heard me the first time Weasley. A Malfoy never repeats himself."

"But why would you do that - for me?" Ginny looked at him incredulously.

"Got bludgered in the head during the last practice, everyone says I haven't been the same since. So... you coming or not?" Draco asked as he stepped out of the owlery. Ginny weighed her options quickly and followed him out.

As they walked down the corridor Draco slowed down so Ginny could catch up. Ginny, sensing his invitation, quickened her pace and walked straight past him with her nose in the air. Draco smiled in amusement; little Miss Weasley obviously didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. But it made no difference, the sight of him and a Weasley walking equably down a corridor would probably be more effective than ten stunning spells put together.

The corridor they were walking through was devoid of rooms or passageways. It led off from the main castle corridor at right angles and led straight to the foot of the steps that wound up to the owlery. The stone walls were adorned with several rich tapestries depicting owls, naturally. They were approaching the end of the corridor and Ginny was just passing her favourite tapestry - of Boris the Bewildered trying to tie a letter around the head of his equally bewildered owl - when she saw a monstrous shadow thrown on the wall of the main corridor. That it was the magnified, flickering shadow of a cat, was unmistakable. The question was, which cat? Ginny froze in her tracks.

"Keep your lovely eyes open, my pretty," cackled an all too familiar voice. FILCH!

Before Ginny could even let out the breath she was unconsciously holding, an arm wrapped around her waist, a hand clamped down on her mouth and she was half dragged half carried sideways and unceremoniously pushed behind the tapestry. It took a second for Ginny to get her bearings. They were in an alcove concealed behind the tapestry. Her back was up against a cold stonewall; her face inches away from a warm shirtfront. Draco Malfoy stood before her, one hand still pressed firmly against her mouth, the other gripping her upper-arm, keeping her still. Ginny chanced an upward glance, his eyes were narrowed as he stared unseeingly at a spot just above her head, every nerve tensed to the sounds made by Filch and his cat.

Ginny took the opportunity to study him, those chiseled features and almost-white hair; but what caught and held her attention were his eyes. Eyes were often termed the windows to the soul. If that was so, then Malfoy's eyes were always carefully shuttered. Nothing escaped their gaze, but nothing penetrated their depths either. Suddenly Draco looked down at her - grey met brown.

As he stared into those startled brown eyes, Draco felt his walls crumbling. It was not possible to dream about someone incessantly and then walk away when an opportunity presented itself. True, he was a Malfoy and she was a Weasley. But he was a seventeen-year-old boy damnit!! And she... she was breathtaking. He moved his hand from her mouth and rested it on the wall next to her head.

'He is so beautiful.'

'He is no such thing! Ginny Weasley get a grip on yourself.'

'But he is. Just look at him. Can you honestly tell me that you don't find him the least bit attractive?'

'Well... now that you mention it... he is kind of nice-looking.'

'Nice-looking??!! Is that all you can say. Have you no taste woman? Look at that mouth, those lips, that chin - I bet if I tilted my head just so I could kiss...'

'Virginia Weasley, don't you dare! I am warning you! Fantasizing about Draco Malfoy, of all men. You need to be straitjacketed'

Ginny almost laughed out loud, she was arguing with herself... and losing.

Draco lowered his face to Ginny's, he couldn't believe it, was she laughing? The twinkling light in those dancing brown eyes was unmistakable. Her lips curled up ever so slightly. He couldn't take it anymore; he lowered his head and caught her lips with his own. Ginny gasped, her hands came up reflexively and rested on his chest, but they didn't push him away. Encouraged, Draco traced her lips with his tongue. Ginny's eyes closed of their volition, as her lips parted to his insistent tongue. He caught her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her away from the wall, pulling her into him. Her arms slid up past his shoulders twining around his neck. Standing on tiptoe she melded herself against him. Filch, alcove, castle all disappeared, the two of them was all there was, all that mattered as the kiss deepened. Lack of oxygen made them break apart, both flushed and panting.

Ginny leaned back leisurely in his arms, lips parted, eyes closed. Draco was holding her so carefully it made her smile. She opened her eyes and met his hooded grey gaze - and then reality hit. Her eyes widened as her body tensed. Draco sensing her discomfiture dropped his arms. For a breathless second Ginny stared at him thunderstruck, before she turned and dashed out of the alcove, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Draco braced himself against the wall of the alcove, Filch completely erased from his mind.

'What are you doing, you abysmally stupid man?'

'Abysmally stupid or not you have to admit that was a great kiss.'

'That is NOT the point.'

'I disagree, its totally pointy.'

'The point, my fine friend, is that you are a Malfoy and she is a Weasley. Therefore this little passionate interlude will never ever be repeated.'

'The point, my fine fool, is that you are a boy and she is a girl and if that kiss was anything to go by, this passionate interlude is going to put up a repeat performance really really soon.'

'Shut up!'

'Deal with it.'

'SHUT UP!'

'I will not. I'm right and you know it.'

Draco scrubbed his hand across his eyes and gave up. He wondered idly whether his nightmares were causing him to develop a split personality. He shrugged as he headed towards bed.

'Just another reason to add to the "why-my-life-so-sucks" list.'

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Lucius picked up the dagger and fingered the blade, looking maliciously at the boy stretched out on the rack.

"What must be done must be done," he said and placed the tip of the blade to the base of the boy's throat. The boy looked up at him, paralyzed with fear, making the restraints that bound his limbs unnecessary. He gasped sharply as Lucius trailed the tip of the knife down his chest, leaving in its wake a trail of blood, up to his navel. Lucius continued to smile as the blood flowed in rivulets down his ribs; the boy looked at Lucius and wondered what would come next. As though reading his thoughts, Lucius picked up another dagger from the table next to him. He showed the dagger to the boy, tracing the jagged edge of the blade.

"You have a visitor, my lord." Lucius whirled around to face the ghost who came bearing the message.

"Not now, Anton. I am busy."

"It is a message from the Master, my lord." Lucius swore under his breath and turned to the boy on the rack.

"I am sorry, I must leave - for now. But I shall return shortly to finish our unfinished business." With that Lucius walked out of the room followed by the floating ghost.

Having been finally left alone the boy squirmed to take a better look at the room he was in. As the blood trickled down his sides, he took in the damp, moss covered walls of the dungeon - for so it was. The stone walls had iron manacles hanging from them in places, the door was made of wood with iron bolts stiffly in place. As he looked around the dungeon, at the far end, he spotted a sarcophagus in the shape of a woman. 'The Iron Lady' he thought grimly as he remembered reading about the spikes, which pierced the bodies of those, unfortunate enough to be trapped in them. He shuddered, though whether out of fear or cold he wasn't sure. The blood on his chest had clotted over, giving the appearance of a line drawn with precision from his throat to his navel. He was cold; the single torch illuminating the dark interiors of the dungeon was not enough to repel the icy chill that had settled in his bones. He wondered how much longer he would have to stay there.

The door opened after what seemed like a lifetime, but was probably only a few minutes. Lucius entered accompanied by two men in hooded black robes.

"The time is upon us to finish what we started," Lucius smiled a cold thin smile and picked up the knife with the jagged edges.

"This might hurt a bit," he said softly and plunged the knife through the boy's right bicep, straight through the muscle. The boy screamed in agony as a spurt of blood erupted from around the hilt of the blade and trickled to the floor. Lucius leaned over the boy and forced him to look into his eyes, his hand still on the hilt of the blade.

"It is for your own good, boy," he said quietly as he twisted the knife in the wound. The boy's screams reverberated throughout the dungeon, as Lucius looked on, his face devoid of any expression. As the boy opened his eyes, bloodshot from the pain and in stark contrast to his pale face, Lucius asked, "Are you willing to yield now?"

The boy looked at him for a second and then spat at Lucius' face.

"Never," he hissed before Lucius' fist made contact with his jaw. Reeling from the blow, the boy tasted blood in his mouth.

"Take him away," Lucius hissed at the two men standing behind him. "Put him back where he came from - the darkness of his mother's womb."

The two men unbound and then picked the boy off the rack and carried him to the sarcophagus. As one of the men held on to him, the other opened the door, which had iron spikes protruding from it. The boy was pushed in and as the door began to close, one by one the spikes penetrated and then embedded themselves in his flesh, his arms, his legs, his stomach, his chest. As the door closed completely he felt the last of the spikes go through his right arm. He could see Lucius' face curl into a smile of grim satisfaction as the pain lanced through his entire body. Every breath served to embed the spikes further; blood oozed from the myriad number of wounds in his body and trickled down. He would scream if he could but that would only serve to intensify the agony. He stood inside the sarcophagus, for how long, he did not know. Eternity ceased to be just a word as the metallic stench of blood overpowered his senses. He wanted to throw-up but couldn't. Then as the loss of blood began to take its toll, nausea threatened to overcome him. He closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the room from spinning, when suddenly the door was wrenched open and what were hitherto circular wounds on his body became long gashes. Unable to hold himself up any longer, he fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

"How the mighty have fallen," Lucius smirked.

In a daze the boy saw Lucius open a box near his feet. He felt rather than saw the rats, which scurried out of it and made their way towards him and his maligned body, the hair on their lean hungry bodies bristling with anticipation.

As Lucius walked out of the dungeon with the only light that had been there, he paused at the door and said, "A good host always feeds his visitors, Draco."

Draco opened his eyes and stared at the canopy of his four-poster bed. He was drenched in sweat and was panting. He looked down at his chest and arms, as it to make sure that it had been a dream - only a dream.