Circle's Close

Chapter Eight: A Picture's Worth

***

It was a weary Harry Potter who made his way to his common room at a very late hour. He was sure that he was the only one in the whole school that was left awake, considering the time of night it was. Even Hermione was tucked away, sleeping soundly, and Harry's heart fell when he realized he would not have her to talk to before he went to sleep. So when Harry stepped through the portrait hole, and crossed the common room, he was certainly surprised to find that someone was indeed still awake.

Ginny Weasley.

She stood by the window, staring out onto the vastness of the grounds that stretched out beyond the school. Her arms were folded across her chest, her forehead pressed against the cool glass. She didn't seem to notice Harry at all. And if she did, then she was ignoring him. It didn't take a mind reader to see that Ginny wanted to be alone. Her back was straight and stiff, and an unfamiliar coldness washed over Harry like shards of ice--as though that coldness was coming from Ginny, herself, despite the warm fire that lit the common room.

Curiosity came naturally to Harry, and he resented it. Yet there was the need to satisfy the nagging in his brain. It was obvious to him that he had two choices. The first was to go straight to his room, without another backward glance at the red head (which, at this point, seemed to be the preferable choice) or he could stay, and let Ginny make the decision.

He doubled back to where she was standing.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" he asked, standing directly behind her.

Ginny jumped, completely startled. Harry laughed, as Ginny clutched her heart, no doubt convinced that it was going to jump out of her chest.

"Harry!" she hissed, while Harry continued to chortle with laughter.

"Sorry, Ginny. You ...just...the look on your face...priceless," he gasped between his fit of laughter.

Ginny punched him in the arm playfully, a smile teasing the corner of her lips.

"I didn't hear you come in," she said.

"That much was evident," Harry said after calming down enough to make conversation.

Ginny nodded and turned back to her window gazing, suddenly looking solemn.

"Is something the matter? You can tell me, you know," he offered.

Ginny turned her face back to him, a small, wistful smile on her lips. "I know, Harry. I just...don't know. You know?" she asked.

Harry gave her a look that suggested otherwise. The red head giggled and moved towards the sofa and sat down. The roaring fire melted away the coldness Harry had felt coming from her earlier. He followed her to the sofa and sat down as well, watching the dancing flames reflect in her brown orbs. There were lines of worry and apprehension in her face, but also of peace and contentment. An odd combination, Harry reflected, which made everything even more complicated. How was he supposed to react to her?

"Christmas is coming up," Harry reminded her, trying to make light conversation.

"Yeah," sighed Ginny. "Then a whole New Year. What do you think next year will bring, Harry? Will it bring peace, and prosperity? Love and forgiveness? At least...that's what my parents always taught me. Now I'm not so sure," she told him softly.

Silence stretched between the two, while Harry pondered the answer to her question.

"I don't know," he finally said, trying to understand the quiet pain in her voice. "I think it will bring many things, as each New Year does. I can only hope that it will bring all the things that would make our world a better place. For Muggles, wizards, and witches."

Ginny seemed to be pondering this, as she curled her legs beneath her and started to twirl a lock of hair around her finger absent-mindedly.

Harry smiled. "Do you always do that when you're nervous?" he asked, pointing to her hair-bound finger.

"No," she lied, and wrenched her finger from her hair. "I just have some stuff on my mind."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Harry offered. It was then that he realized that Ginny was deeply troubled. Not the normal teenager angst, but a much deeper, more knowledgeable pain or fear. Harry knew that if Ginny confided in him, he would have to be as strong as possible to deal with what she had to say.

Ginny tilted her head to the side, staring at Harry, as if sizing him up. Was he a worthy confidant? Ginny knew in her heart that if she was going to tell anyone, it was going to be Harry. Not because once upon a time she had fancied him, but because he was Harry. Not because he was famous, or Head Boy, or had the smartest witch in the school for a girl friend, or even because her brother was his best friend. But because Harry was just one of those people. She couldn't put a finger on it, so she took a deep breath, and exhaled very slowly.

"I do want to talk about it, Harry. I'm afraid, though," she said, blinking back burning tears. She was more than just afraid, she was terrified. If she told Harry, she could lose him as one of her closest friends. This was not something she was willing to sacrifice.

"Ginny," Harry said softly, and he took her hand, holding it securely. "I'm here, you know. And whatever you have to say, it won't change my mind about you. About who you are. Do you see? No matter how horrible it might be, I'll always love you for you. I'm here for you, Ginny. Whether you need me now, later, or never. Know that I'll always be here," he promised.

Ginny's heart lifted. This was why she knew she could tell him. He always knew what to say. He knew what real friendship was all about.

"Technically speaking, I feel wonderful. I haven't felt this wonderful in a long time," Ginny began, and slowly, but surely, a smile crept onto her lips, her eyes took on a faraway look.

Realization dawned on Harry.

"Of course!" he cried, and then lowered his voice. "Ginny, you've found him, haven't you?" he said. It was not a question meant to be answered, but she nodded shyly anyway.

"I'm not sure, but I think so," she added quickly.

"That would explain so much. So who's the lucky guy? And why the secrecy?" he asked, and then he knew what it felt like to be Lavender Brown. He had never felt so "gossipy" in all his life.

Ginny grew quiet again, and looked away, but Harry caught the worry and apprehension on her face.

"Ginny..." he said slowly. What could be making her act this way? If she found "the one", shouldn't she be happy? Shouldn't she be blurting out his name every time she had the chance? And even if she wanted to keep it secret, she had practically just told Harry (though he had to guess), so shouldn't she be ecstatic, wanting to tell him every possible detail?

Ginny turned back to him expectantly.

"You haven't worked it out in your mind yet?" she said softly.

The truth was, Harry had. It was just...the thought was so ludicrous--so out there--that he couldn't find it in himself to believe it. His calculations couldn't be right. All of it. All the signs. Ginny defending the Slytherins. Ginny wanting to go to the Ball alone, and disappearing for long periods of time during the Ball.

Draco Malfoy.

This also explained his behaviour. Ginny had been right. The Slytherins were not spying on the Gryffindors during Quidditch practice.

Draco was concentrating solely on Ginny.

Draco wasn't just being moody and solemn; he was watching what he was saying around Harry, his only purpose to stay on Ginny's good side. Come to think of it, Draco had also disappeared for periods of time during the Ball.

Draco and Ginny. Ginny and Draco.

How could this have happened, he wondered. It just didn't make sense. A Malfoy with a Weasley?

He looked at Ginny then, and knew there was no denying it.

Ginny and Draco had been dating in secret.

A shower of questions bombarded him just then, and it took a while for him to make sense of what Ginny wanted to tell him. The stronger, angry, and resentful part of Harry wanted to scream with rage, kick at something that would feel his outburst or fiercely deny that the girl he had always considered his sister could possibly care for someone like...that.

The other part of him, the friend, the brother, and the romantic in him realized that Ginny had just confided in him. In spite of the fact that he and Malfoy were enemies, she chose him, above her closest of friends, to share her deepest secret with. The logical part of him told him that in the near future she would have to tell her family. And only God knew what their reactions would be. Including everyone at school. He knew not all of them would be accepting, and a lot of them would meet Ginny with hostility. She needed him, and trusted him. He'd be damned if he would be the first to betray that trust.

"For how long?" he said aloud, shocked at how calm he sounded.

Ginny's eyes widened, wary and expecting an outburst. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat, and whispered, "Two months. Since the beginning of school."

Harry sighed, then removed his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, and closed his emerald eyes.

"I told you," hissed Ginny shrilly. Tears were flowing freely from her brown eyes, and she sobbed through her words.

"I didn't want you to know. You more than anyone else. But I knew that you were the only person I could tell. And now, knowing that I'm dating your arch enemy, you hate me." She choked on her outburst, and continued to sob. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm not sorry for being with Draco, I'm sorry for hurting you. If that makes no sense to you, well then I don't think I can clear that up any better. But I'm hoping that someday, you can forgive me," and she stood up in a heated rush.

Forgive. That struck a chord in Harry's memory. Only moments ago she had pondered the gifts that the New Year would bring. He realized that her concern didn't lie with the rest of the world. It rested with Malfoy and herself. He grabbed her hand and forced her back down onto the couch.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said with a quietness that managed to calm Ginny's tears and sobs. Or maybe she had stopped crying because of Harry, as he wrapped his arms around her, wanting to chase away all her demons with his comfort.

"I told you before, and I'll tell you again. Nothing could ever change my mind about you," Harry told her softly. "If this revelation has done anything, it's only made me sure of everything that is good in life. And what a good person you are." He pulled, forcing her to look at him, so she could see that there was no mocking glint in his eye.

New tears threatened to fall and she wiped them away before they could. She sniffled as she looked at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You see something in Draco that not one single person does, even his own friends. You see the goodness in him. Even I don't see that, but knowing you do has given me some hope that maybe he's not as bad as he seems. That's something I've wondered for a very long time, Ginny. And though I can't completely trust or like him, there's a part of me that wants to give him a chance. A small part, but it's there. And maybe with your help... that part can grow."

Ginny's brown eyes widened.

Harry continued. "One thing is for sure. You and Draco won't have to face Ron alone. You have me, and eventually, when the time comes, you'll have Hermione as well."

Fresh tears glossed Ginny's eyes, and this time, she didn't stop them.

"Harry," sobbed the tearful girl. She didn't know what to say. Harry had rendered her completely speechless. "But...Draco...arch enemy..." stuttered Ginny.

"You're more important to me than that. You're my little sister, and I'll protect you with everything I've got. Even against your brothers," he said.

Ginny smiled uncertainly. She didn't know what to say, as her relief and love for Harry washed over her like a warm summer's breeze.

"You're the best friend any one could ever ask for, Harry," she said, standing up again with a timid, yet bright smile on her face.

He stood up with her, ready to retreat to his own room.

"Then you'll be alright?" he wondered.

Ginny beamed, hardly able to contain her excitement.

"I'm 100%!" she exclaimed, her chocolate brown eyes alight with humour.

"Good, now off to bed. I'm exhausted myself," Harry told her, and yawned for great effect.

Ginny placed her hands on her hips, giving Harry the strong impression that he was in the same room with Molly Weasley, and not Ginny.

"Exactly," she inquired, quirking a brow, "what are you doing up so late, mister?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I wish I knew. Studying, I expect. Not that it did any good," he added, yawning again.

Ginny laughed, and shook her head in wonderment. "Go to sleep," she ordered, looking more and more like her mother.

"Yes, mother," Harry said with a light laugh, turning to his own set of stairs.

Ginny was already heading up her own steps, when Harry heard her call his name for the final time that night.

"Yeah?" Harry said, poking his head around the bend to look back at her.

Ginny gave an awkward, shy smile.

"Thank you." She then sped up the stairs in a flash, leaving Harry to ponder the ironies of life.

*

"That was a nice thing you said down there," said Hermione.

Harry looked startled for a moment, and then crossed his room to sit next to his girlfriend on his bed.

"I could tell that you were listening on the stairs. I didn't think you'd come to my room, though. It's late. You should be sleeping," he told her.

"I should say the same for you, Head Boy. What is your purpose for being up so late?" asked Hermione.

"Studying, believe it or not. But I'm never studying this late ever again. I'm exhausted," sighed Harry.

Hermione crawled onto the bed, and positioned herself behind Harry. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and started to rub them in circular motions, kneading his aching muscles. A satisfied groan escaped Harry's mouth, and Hemione giggled.

"All you do is work. You need to relax," she told him.

Harry didn't say any thing, and leaned back, closing his eyes. He even ignored the fact that it was always Hermione who worked more than anyone else did, and that her statement was purely hypocritical. All his muscles and bones seemed to melt under her touch. He felt like a Jell-O mold. Hermione continued to massage him until her fingers ached.

"Thank you, love. I really needed that," Harry said, turning to face her. They sat Indian style on the bed, in front of each other.

"Any time. Now about this Ginny business..."

"I promised her I wouldn't talk about it. I don't want to betray her trust. However, since you've already heard about it..."

Hermione held up a hand to interrupt.

"My intention isn't for you to betray her trust. I just want to tell you that I'm very proud of you. In Ginny's time of need, you haven't hesitated in being there for her. I realized when listening, that you're very much like a young Dumbledore," Hermione said.

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione quickly shushed him again.

"There's nothing to deny, Harry. You're far too wise beyond your years. I just want you to know that I love you."

"Oh, Hermione." There were no words now. Harry pulled her into a fierce embrace. "I will always love you," he finally said.

Silence passed, and Harry broke it by saying, "so what brought this on?"

Hermione giggled. "Which part?" she asked.

"Well," Harry said, "it's not every day I find my girlfriend sitting on my bed at two in the morning, on a school night, no less."

Hermione looked at him, all traces of humour disappearing from her serene and gentle looking face.

"It never really occurs to me to tell you just how wonderful you are. A part of me worries that I'll never get to tell you just how much I love you. After hearing your conversation with Ginny, I knew that you needed to know, no matter what. I just couldn't bear it if something happened..."

Harry leapt forward, grabbing her by the shoulders with gentle strength, and forced her to look into his eyes.

"Nothing will ever happen to me. I swear it, Hermione. You have to know that I'm here, and here to stay. You have nothing to worry about," Harry insisted, and pulled her into his arms. She responded to embrace his with equal desperation. He kissed her then, crushing his lips to hers, desperate to make her see the truth in his words. Pulling apart, they both gasped for air, breathless and now speechless.

"OK," she whispered in final agreement, and they stayed silent for a few more minutes in each other's arms, each basking in the other's presence.

"Alright. I should go," she finally said, standing up and facing him, as he sat up on his bed.

"I'd rather you stay," he insisted, pulling her back. Hermione smiled, reaching a free hand to run her fingers through his dark, untidy hair. His radiant green eyes shone back at her, looking earnest.

"Dumbledore would have my head on a silver platter, Harry. It's a big risk," she reminded him.

Harry gave her a sly smile. "A bigger risk than brewing Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?" he asked.

Hermione grinned in return. "I said it was a risk, Potter. Remember, it's never stopped me before from acting against the rules."

Harry laughed with her, pulling her back onto the bed.

"Then make yourself comfortable, Miss Granger."

*

The next morning started off as one of the best mornings Harry had ever woken to. The sun, despite the cold of the November month, was bright and cheery, an unseasonable warmth filled the castle and the grounds. In spite of the glorious morning that Harry was enjoying, he found himself starting off incredibly late for class. This was due to Hermione, who clung to him as he tried to rise up from his bed.

"Just because you have a spare this morning, doesn't mean that I get to lounge around with you," Harry reminded the love of his life.

"Oh come on, Harry. Trelawney won't miss you that much," she insisted, sleepy-eyed. A blissful smile curved her lips, tempting Harry to smother them with his own.

"Now look! Stop doing that, Hermione. I have to go to class," Harry said, pulling himself away.

"You know you don't want to. Just stay," pleaded Hermione.

"Look, I'm late," laughed Harry, wrenching himself away from the bed. "And youare an evil temptress! Stop it! I won't have it!" he cried, flinging himself into his bathroom. Hermione's light giggles followed him as he locked himself in. He looked at his reflection.

"Don't you look happy. I'd know that look anywhere," teased his mirror.

"Don't start. And for your information, we didn't do anything last night. She merely spent the night in my bed."

"In your arms..." added his mirror, delighting in Harry's embarrassment.

"That's none of your business," snapped Harry, but he couldn't hide the grin on his face.

"Ah, young love," sighed his mirror.

*

"Harry! Hey Harry! Wait Harry!"

Harry stifled an impatient groan, and turned to face Colin Creevey, who was speeding down the hallway.

"I'm going to be late for class, Colin! Can't this wait?" he asked. The corridors were deserted, since the bell had already gone.

Colin acted as though this didn't matter to him, and he finally caught up to Harry.

"I thought you'd like to see these," he said, and whipped out a wad of pictures. Harry frowned, but took the stack anyway, humoring the 6th year photographer.

His scowl soon turned to a look of worry, as he shuffled through each picture. His face drained of all color.

"Harry? You alright?" Colin said, obviously distressed at the prospect of upsetting Harry.

These were not just any ordinary pictures. Each one unmasking the secret relationship between Ginny and Malfoy.

"Where'd you take these?" Harry demanded, not bothering to keep his tone in check.

"The Hallowe'en Ball. I happened to be exiting the bathroom, when I saw Ginny heading towards one of the back corridors. I followed her, and hid myself from view. Then Draco showed up and, well, I just had to get these pictures," Colin explained. He was peering closely at Harry, worried.

Harry continuously flipped through the pictures, amazed more than anything else. Because these pictures didn't just reveal their relationship (which Harry, thank Merlin, already knew about), but it exposed much more than that.

Draco Malfoy had a soft side.

Harry observed the moving pictures, watching as Malfoy undid the clips in Ginny's hair. The next picture revealed Malfoy running a gentle hand through her flaming red hair, his face inches from hers. Another picture showed them sharing a tender kiss, and Harry flipped instantly to the next one, blushing guiltily. The rest of these pictures revealed more of this, and a side to Malfoy that Harry had never seen.

"Are there any other copies of these?" asked Harry to Colin.

"Nope! I was going to make Ginny a set after I showed them to you, though. Aren't they great, Harry? Though, I don't know how I feel about a Gryffindor being with a Slytherin," Colin added as an afterthought.

"But you're sure these are the only pictures? Has anyone else seen them?" asked Harry.

Colin shook his head furiously. "I just got them developed," he answered, looking proud. He then went on, excited that he had Harry's attention and eager to keep it.

"After taking these pictures, I was thinking maybe after Hogwarts I could do this as a career, you know? Taking secret photos for the Daily Prophet, or the Witch Weekly? What do you think, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath and glanced up and down the hallway, feeling rather nervous.

"I think I'm going to have to confiscate these, Colin," he told him.

Colin looked puzzled. "Can't it wait, Harry? I'd really like to get those doubled, if I could," he said.

"Sorry about this, Colin," said Harry. Before Colin could respond, Harry lifted his wand up and pointed it at him. "Obliviate," he called.

Colin blinked and looked at Harry.

"Harry! What are you doing standing around in the halls like this! You'll be late for class!" shouted Colin, panicking immediately.

Harry sighed with relief, tucking away the pictures safely beneath his robes. If anyone was to have them, it should be Ginny.

*

Harry found his class, and saw that he was indeed late. Everyone looked up as he pushed the trapdoor open, and his head popped up in the classroom.

"Have a seat, Mr Potter. Knowing you would be late, I took the liberty of holding off the lesson until you arrived," came Professor Trelawney's misty voice.

Harry did as told, rolling his eyes over at Ron. Ron hid a smile by tucking his face into his shoulder.

"Thanks, Professor," said Harry, avoiding the urge to look at Malfoy as he took his seat next to Ron.

"Now, class," Trelawney began. "Today we will broaden our horizons by taking a step forward in what is called Smoke Divination. This is merely another form of crystal gazing, but far more useful in case you do not have access to a crystal ball. There are many ways to use this advanced fashion of unleashing your Inner Eye, and I warn you, it is far more dangerous, and in many ways, more mysterious than any form you have previously used," Trelawney explained.

The class exchanged many excited glances, eager to begin today's lesson.

Trelawney started to pass out small copper bowls, about the size of an ashtray, while explaining how Smoke Divination worked.

"I've already given out small portions of the incense you are to use, in order to start your flame. A simple flame-inducer will work just fine. Now, I insist that you don't sit too close to the smoke, and don't lean into it. However, I have Madam Pomfrey on standby. I made her aware that I am teaching you the beginnings of this unit, and yes, Miss Patil, it's that dangerous."

Harry glanced at Parvati and noticed how her mouth was hanging slightly open, about to say something. She closed her mouth, and gave Trelawney the look of utter respect. Across the room, Neville Longbottom gave a tiny squeak. Copper bowls were placed in front of Harry and Ron, and they exchanged looks of bewilderment.

"Let's get this over with," said Harry, with a bitter glance at Trelawney's retreating back. They both pulled out their wands, and pointed them at their incense-filled bowls.

"Incendio!" they cried, and a burst of light shot out of their wands, igniting the incense.

All around the room people duplicated Harry and Ron, and soon smoke lifted out of each copper bowl. Across the room Harry could see Lavender Brown helping Neville with his own bowl.

It didn't take long for the room to take the appropriate scent of perfumed smoke, and after a few minutes of staring blankly into his smoke, Harry started to feel light-headed. His vision became blurry, then un-blurry, then back to blurry. The room seemed to disappear around him. Mutterings of his classmates faded into the thick gray-black smoke that swam in front of him. The smoke itself swirled in front of him, until it reached a circular shape, leaving a clear surface of air for him to look into. It reminded him vaguely of a muggle television set.

He reasoned that his reactions to Smoke Divination was due to lack of sleep. How he longed to fold his arms on the table and rest his sleepy head. But, he firmly reminded himself, he was Head Boy, and (with a groan) it was his duty to set the proper example. Taking naps during a new lesson didn't qualify.

He reluctantly turned his tired eyes to the Smoke again. What was he supposed to be looking for? He lifted his head to Ron, raising a skeptical brow. Ron shrugged in return.

Heaving an impatient sigh, Harry focused on his Smoke, once again, in frustration.

Then something started to take shape. He felt so sleepy he couldn't be sure if he was dreaming or not, but then he realized that it wasn't something that was appearing in his smoke, but someone. In fact, many someone's. Harry's vision became clear once more, and he leaned a little forward, carefully heeding Trelawney's advice. He squinted his eyes. The faces that became clearer were gaunt and pale, their lips curled into twisted smiles, their eyes dark and piercing. Harry observed their style of old-fashioned clothing, and upon looking closer, he realized that they were not normal "Muggle" clothes, they were old-fashioned robes. Harry was staring into the faces of old Witches and Wizards. How old? He couldn't tell.

Their mouths opened then, and they let out a loud, deafening moan that made Harry's insides twist in agony. His chest closed in on his already fiercely pounding heart. He tried to breathe, but each breath for him was nothing but intense pain. The people in the vision slowly melted away, but Harry could still hear their desperate moans echoing in his pounding head.

"Oh dear."

Harry didn't have to look up to see that Professor Trelawney was peering into his own vision, and he didn't dare peel his eyes away from what he was seeing, no matter how terrified he was.

"Cursed souls screaming on the longest night," Trelawney announced in a fluttery voice. Her face was pale, and her magnified eyes were wide.

The vision became clearer once more, and Harry could see the shape of one man, but what nearly threw him into a panic was how the man was standing. He wasn't standing at all, but he seemed to be floating while standing. No, Harry corrected himself. This man wasn't floating, he was dangling! Sure enough, Harry could see a noose wrapped securely around the man's neck. A tall, lanky object appeared beside the dead wizard, so blurry that Harry couldn't even guess as to what it was. Before he could get a closer look, the object exploded, throwing Harry back with a shock. His copper bowl spun at a rapid pace, faster and faster, until it was nothing but a mere blur, then flew across the room, over the heads of students, and it smashed through the glass window.

The entire class sat in stunned silence, staring at Harry with a mixture of wonderment and fear. Trelawney's eyes were wide and fearful, and she stood clutching her heart, looking as though someone had just died.

After a few minutes, the shock of the recent events passed. Parvati and Lavender rushed over to Trelawney and sat her down in a chair. Harry looked at Ron, and saw that Ron looked exactly how Harry felt. His face was pale, even his lips had lost their color. His blue eyes were wide and fearful.

"What did you see?" he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Harry swallowed down a nervous lump. His classmates seemed to have lost interest in Trelawney's proclamation, as they turned back to their Smoke Divination.

Harry spoke in a low voice, explaining exactly what he had seen. Sure enough, Ron's reaction doubled. He looked like he was going to be sick.

Behind Harry, Ron could see Malfoy take a sudden interest in what Harry had to say, but there was no self-satisfying grin. He wore an all-knowing frown.

"We'll talk after class, Harry," Ron told him.

It seemed that the end of class was going to be sooner than expected. After Trelawney's newest prediction, she decided that she needed to spend some time alone, and focus her Inner Eye on the Dark forces. She left the classroom after fixing the window, leaving the students to pack up their books and leave after her.

"Dark forces. Yeah, right," muttered Ron, but he didn't look as sure as he sounded.

Harry stood up with Ron, when someone called out his name.

They turned to find Draco Malfoy standing completely alone. The entire classroom was empty. The only ones left were Harry, Ron and Malfoy.

"It doesn't take a mind-reader to know what you saw in your vision, Potter," Malfoy said, as calmly as possible. Harry knew he was only using this tone because he was trying to remain on Harry's good side. But Malfoy didn't know that Harry knew of him and Ginny. Did this give Harry the upper hand? He couldn't decide.

"What do you know of it then?" asked Harry, a little colder than intended. Ron continued to stare at Malfoy with a loathing that had built over the years.

"I know enough. And if you're smart, you'll heed my advice. Don't ignore the signs, Potter. They've come to you for a reason. If you belittle them, there will be a world of trouble."

The cold chill Harry had felt while looking into his vision returned. But he didn't dare show it.

"I'll take that into consideration, Malfoy," Harry said, not taking his eyes off of Malfoy's icy gray ones.

"Get off it, Harry!" Ron burst out. "You're not going to believe what he has to say, are you?"

Malfoy broke the staring contest, and turned his eyes to Ron for the first time.

"It's a shame you feel that way, Weasley," he drawled. There was no menace in his voice, but Harry could detect a certain feeling of dislike coming from Malfoy. This was no surprise to him. He assumed that it was enough that Malfoy had to be nice to him, let alone to two of his archenemies.

"You've given Harry plenty of reasons to not trust you. Give us two good reasons why he should give your words any thought at all," retorted Ron.

"I could give you a book full, Weasley. But I thought that we are all a little too old to be playing these games. Let's act our age" he suggested, a little too condescendingly for Harry's liking.

"Hmmph," muttered Ron. "I'm not the only one who remembers clearly what your more charming qualities are, Malfoy. Perhaps you're simply trying to get Harry into trouble, or even worse, killed. It's not going to work, Malfoy. Harry isn't stupid."

"If he doesn't listen to what I have to say," Malfoy replied coolly, "my more charming qualities will be the least of your worries."

"I'm still in the room, and I can speak for myself," Harry said, interrupting Malfoy and Ron's exchange. "I promised to consider it. I believe that's enough for now," Harry said.

Malfoy seemed satisfied with this. He grabbed up his bag, and left the classroom through the trapdoor.

"That was entirely creepy," Ron mumbled.

"You have no idea," Harry said, thinking of Ginny, Malfoy, and the pictures that lay hidden in his robes. He followed Ron out of the classroom.

To Be Continued...