Wish Upon Tonight

Being of the first part of Wish Upon Tonight

"Ginny!" Ron banged harder on the girl's door. "Ginny, mum says wake up." He continued to bang. Ginny, who had been awake since 2 AM working on homework, was tired of his incessant banging.

"I'm up, I'm up," she yelled. "I'm bloody up," she mumbled to herself. She slammed shut her Basic Book of Spells Grade 5 and laid back on her bed. A weak knocking came from her door.

"Ginny," Hermione's familiar voice drifted into the room. "Ginny, Ron

tells me your upset. Can I come in?" Hermione, not waiting for the reply, walked in. She almost looked guilty but Ginny thought she seemed to always look guilty. Ginny was slightly huffed and in no mood to discuss her feelings with Hermione.

"Ron shouldn't have told you a bloody thing. Its none of his friggin' business and why in the name of Merlin does he care?" Ginny was a Weasley, and talked like on too. She was wild and free and she didn't care to be

the proper student or young lady. Hermione, sensing danger, turned her back on the red haired girl. As she was going to walk out the door she turned to Ginny and said, "We're going to Diagon Alley and I would like you to come with us. If you don't, we know what books you need and you shouldn't worry." She continued out the door without waiting for the answer. 'Does Hermione think she knows everything?'

After Ginny heard the last voice disappear (Harry's) she went down to

the kitchen to rummage through the leftovers from breakfast. After filling

her plate with food, she decided to eat in her room. She went into the

small room and plopped her food on a small desk in the corner. Her muggle

pencil went rolling across the floor. She went over to the bed Hermione was

supposed to sleep in but never did (she was always on the couch with a

book larger than her head laying open on her chest). She bent over and went

feeling around for the pencil. 'Blasted bloody animal' she muttered.

Her hand hit something much larger then a pencil. She pulled a small red

leather book with the Gryffindor House Crest emblazoned on the cover.

The Hogwarts school motto encircled the crest in gold letters. 'Draco

Dormiens Nunquam Titillandos.' She laughed as she translated the motto of

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Never Tickle a sleeping dragon.'

She opened the book, knowing immediately that she shouldn't.

"Hermione diary!" she screamed aloud. She quieted her voice even

though no one could hear her. "Why doesn't she have it enchanted? She is the

brightest witch of our day." The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "It's

like the Marauder's Map! She forgot to wipe it clean." Ginny knew she shouldn't

read it. She remembered with a pang the last time she meddled with an

enchanted diary. She had to know? Did Hermione love Ron? Or Harry? (Hopefully

not Harry, because Hermione knew that Ginny liked Harry) Or maybe some

secret love, pining away in Ravenclaw Tower, awaiting his lover's reply? She

skimmed over the pages carefully. Much about nothing. Things like,

'Ancient Runes was terribly fascinating today' or 'Harry and Ron went out to

practice Quidditch today, how dull'. "Come on, where's the good stuff?"

Finally, she hit pay dirt.

"August 1st

"Dear Diary,

"Sometimes I find writing a diary ridiculous. But, now, that I have

something to say, I find it quite exhilarating."

"Leave it to Hermione to use proper English in a diary. And words like

exhilarating." Ginny mused to herself.

"I'm afraid of what we're doing. What if someone found out? We can't

hide it for long. He wanted to tell everyone in June but, for our safety, we

couldn't let anyone know. It's right. The two of us, that is. Together.

It's a dream come true. For years we tried to hide it. We can't anymore. I

never thought the world would live to see the day Hermione Granger went

babbling on about a boy in her diary. But, apparently, that day has come. I hope

someday we can find the nerve to tell everyone. Especially Ginny." At

the mention of her own name, her interest peaked.

"What, possibly, could cause Hermione to hide something from me?" she

read on.

"Living with her is torture. I believe she suspects something is amiss

but doesn't know the details. Maybe someday I can convince myself that she

should know.

Good night, Diary"

"What? Who is it?" she screamed. She turned the page and her question

was answered.

"P.S. What do you think of Hermione Potter? I find it absolutely

lovely." She snapped the book shut.

"What? Why wouldn't they just tell me? The no good ruddy..." Her thoughts ran off as her anger began to ebb. She could understand why they would want to be together. But, they were going to pay for thinking she wasn't able to handle anything. Was she so weak and innocent that she couldn't take a little disappointment? She was going to show them just how innocent she was! She stole an angry glance at the

little book, at the golden letters. 'Draco Dormiens...' Her brain seemed to snap

to attention as it hit her. "Draco...Draco...Draco! Perfect!" She tore out of

the room and bounded down the stairs. The noise was the equivalent of a

herd of elephants. Mrs. Black began wailing, "Filth! Mudblood lover! Defiling

my father's house!" She didn't bother to stop and close the curtain. She

grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and screamed 'Malfoy Manor' over Mrs. Black's tirade.

Her body twisted and turned in the fireplaces like never before. She

was thrashed about, knocking her knees and elbows all the way. Just as the cold, grey walls came into view, her hand snapped to the left and she only saw a brown fuzzy blur before she knew no more.

The room was as cold as Snape's dungeons. The walls were littered with

wall hangings in classic Slytherin fashion. The green velvet background made

the silver serpents twining around the elegant D.M. shimmer. The bed was

large enough for the entire Weasley family, along with Harry and Hermione,

and everyone of them would have more than enough room. The four cherry wood posters were hung with green velvet that was partially drawn back. She knew that it wouldn't look like this if it wasn't winter. In summer, velvet would boil the person sleeping. She lifted her hands and pulled the hangings all

the way back.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing in my bloody bed?" The drawl

was all too familiar. Ginny had a horrible headache and almost couldn't

process his words.

"I need your help, Malfoy," she said hazily.

"Why, exactly, would you need my help?" He straighten his shoulders

and drew his head back haughtily. She was shocked when she first noticed

his hair. The Malfoy locks, usually sleek and slick, were sticking up on

all ends. It painfully reminded her why she was here.

"I have come to the conclusion that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger

are complete and utter prats. And I would like to make the proposition of

helping me make their lives living torture to you." She finished her

sentence but before he could answer, she passed out again.

This time, she awoke suddenly and he didn't have time to make it look

like he hadn't been watching her. She found him leaning over her with a cool

washcloth and a table full of Awakening Potions she was sure he

shouldn't have. His hair still shocked her tremendously. He back away and drew

on his smirk.

"Was getting bored looking at you. Decided you needed to be awake to

finish your proposition." She liked it when his hair wasn't slicked back. It

was rather endearing and made him look less imposing. She looked him

straight in the eye. She was a Weasley and, Merlin curse it, she was going to act

like one. His eyes lost the momentary warmth she had glimpsed when he was

caring for her. They were cold as steel and as hard. The drilled into her

mind, they searched her every thought and she was afraid of those eyes. Eyes

that could see her very being. She felt exposed in front of those eyes and

it frightened her. She tried to harden her brown eyes, but she failed.

Her eyes were too warm and soft to ever reach that steel. She decided she

would have to break him with words. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut

her off.

"Have you even a plan for this torture?" he implored. When she didn't

reply immediately, he continued. "Thought so. Let me guess. It consisted of a

few well chosen fights and a little wise cracking. That will never do.

Think hard. If you can come up with something worthy of a Malfoy's time, I

might even consider it." She stared blankly at him. 'That was my plan.' He spoke

again. "I'll send Blinky to get you food." He walked out the door and began

yelling for Blinky. He stormed down the hallway, complaining about how

things are never done right with his help. Blinky came stumbling in some

while later. She had a pack of House Elves carrying trays of foods.

"Dear Mistress, forgive Blinky for being so late. Blinky tries her

best, yes, yes, she does. You may punish me as you choose." She bowed her

head fearfully and trembled in fear of her punishment.

"Punish you?" Ginny cried unbelievingly. "You have done a perfectly

lovely job at my meal and I wish I could reward you. But, this is the Malfoy

Manor and I'm not your mistress. I'm a guest of Master Draco." She decided if

Blinky called everyone 'master' and 'mistress', then 'Malfoy' would

mean very little to her. The House Elf squealed at the mention of his name.

"Master Draco never has guests. Oh, how lovely! Master Draco treats

Blinky very nicely, yes. Never beats Blinky, never, no." Ginny was appalled

at how Cheerfully Blinky spoke of Draco Malfoy! This was not the Draco Malfoy

she knew. Not that she really knew him. "Oh, Mistress...can Blinky ask

Mistress' name?" she said meekly, fearing a punishment.

"My name is Ginerva Weasley. You can call me Ginny, everyone does."

She smiled at the bubbling House Elf. She proceeded to rise from the

terrifyingly large bed.

"Mistress Ginny, Master Draco will be excited to hear you've gotten up!

Oh, Let Blinky run to him, yes, yes."

"Oh, Blinky. Master Draco will be anything but happy to see me up and

about. Oh, Blinky, where did my clothes go?" She had just noticed, now

that she had left her place in the bed, that she was wearing a Slytherin

House jumper and her socks.

"Mistress Ginny, Blinky begs for forgiveness. Blinky found Mistress

on ground beside fireplace. You was all black with soot so Blinky took

your clothes to the wash. Then I cleaned your arms and face and all that was

black. Punish Blinky." 'Obviously, House Elves never learn' she

thought.

"Oh, Blinky, I don't think I will ever punish you for anything. It was a

good thing you did for me. I will appeal to Master Draco to get you

something. Do you want clothes?" She decided that if Draco was going to

help her, she could use this to deal with. Heaven forbid she ever mention

clothes in front of Blinky again. She wailed loudly.

"Oh, Mistress. Never clothes! Never! NEVER!" She began to hit her head

with her bony hands and jumped around.

"I'm sorry, Blinky. Come, sit here with me. I knew that Dobby was

happy when he received clothes. I thought maybe you would want some too."

"No, no Mistress Ginny. Clothes is the highest insult to good House

Elves. No clothes ever. Blinky loves Master Draco too much." Ginny was almost

too shocked to believe that any creature could be that devoted to such a git.

"Blinky, I'm sorry..." she began but Blinky stopped her.

"No, no. Kindly Mistress, no need to apologize to Blinky. If anything,

Blinky should be punished for distressing Mistress. Oh, bad, bad Blinky

hurt Mistress." She proceeded to punish herself. Ginny, after much

pleading, finally got Blinky to calm down. She sent her off with the untouched

dinner plates. Ginny felt slightly guilty about her next action, but it was a

requirement. She riffled through Draco's drawers. She found a pair a

pants she was sure he couldn't wear any longer. Luckily that they weren't

much too big. 'Lucky Draco thinks he's hot when he wears pants three sizes too

small.' They felt strangely comfortable. Like they had been waiting for

her in his drawer. She opened the large oak door that led from Draco's room

to the large hallways and corridors of Malfoy Manor.

The mansion was impressive in size and grandeur. The ceilings were

vaulted and smooth. The walls were slick and hung with tapestries and beckoned

Ginny forward. When she reached the end of the seemingly endless hallways,

she was left breathless by the sheer majesty of the parlour. The walls were

covered with velvet hangings, much like Draco's room. The chairs were all high

backed and imposing. They sent shudders of fear in Ginny. The room

itself was the size of the Burrow. The windows reached high up to the sky and

the dark night outside shimmered with stars and moonlight. The fireplace

was alight but gave no warmth to the chilled room and Ginny decided that

wearing Draco's pants was a rather brilliant idea. Above the fireplace hung the

most beautiful tapestry Ginny had ever seen. The Malfoy House Crest was a

large M surrounded by serpents, silver and green. The whole house was in green,

silver, and black. The silence in the house caused Ginny's ears to

scream for it to shut up. She could never stand silence. It closed in on her

and pressed her inside herself. She felt colder and colder as she stood there in

the silence. She watched the hungry flames lick their lips at the dry

wood. In the flickering light, she saw the shadow of the boy. He was

silently reading his novel, never noticing her in the back. She moved

towards the fire, breaking the silence with the clap of her unshod

feet on the cold stone. He raised his eyes from the dry, aging page and watched her

move to him. Her eyes wavered in their attempt to stare him down again.

His eyes burned and pierced worst then red hot pokers.

"Well Weasley," he shot at her, "have you come up with something more

interesting or should I toss you back in the fire now?" He closed his book

without ever looking down and stared at her. She wished steel was

softer. She wished his eyes to be vapours, wistful and calm.

"If you think this is all about you," she began, feeling defiant.

"Then you think up the plan." Her eyes were turning harder the longer she stared

into his. She was learning fast how to survive in Malfoy Manor. He was

surprised that she would dare take that tone with a Malfoy, but this was a

Weasley, he had expected as much.

"As much as you seem to have made yourself at home," he began,

glancing at

the pants and at Blinky who had arrived and was holding onto Ginny

leg. "I hate to say that I fear that you'll have to leave. Malfoys are

generous, yes. But we aren't so kind as to allow families like yours sleep in our

beds. I'll have to burn my sheets after you leave." He reopened his book and

didn't look up again. Not willing to just give in and leave, she sat

down in one of the frightening chairs and grabbed the closer thing to her.

'The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. Being the first

part of The Lord of the Rings' She opened to the first page and began to read.

She was quickly caught up by the eloquent language of J.R.R. Tolkien. Time

flew as she read. Blinky came waltzing in, happy about one thing or

another. Waiting on Ginny hand and foot, calling her Mistress Ginny, much to the

annoyance of Draco. Finally he was fed up with her silent presence and

stormed out of the room. Ginny never took notice, Frodo and Sam were

too captivating.

She was especially in love with Sam. Samwise Gamgee was her favourite

hobbit, but she loved, above all others, Strider. The grandfather clock

in the farthest corner of the room struck midnight. She only knew where one

room was, so she decided that awaking Draco was going to be fun.

She decided she would go about her task in the most annoying way

possible. Tickling. She pulled out a quill from Draco's desk. She shoved the

feathered end under his nose. 'Boy, does the man sleep!' she thought. He began to

bat at the disturbance. He rolled over and she had to climb on the bed to

reach his nose. He turned towards her and grabbed her leg and wrenched out

from under her.

"Did you really think me so stupid?!" he sneered. "Now, Weasley, there

better be a reason for you waking me." She tried to put on a smug face.

"Well, I figured unless you want me sleeping in your bed again, you

best be showing me to a room." He grumbled slightly, but nevertheless made his

way out of the large bed and to the door. He was wearing no more than his

boxer shorts, but she wasn't paying attention to anything but his hair.

Again, it had taken the shape of a cactus. He opened the door, which was the

first one down from his, and shoved her inside.

"Well, Weasley, you have a room. And I'll be needing my pants back."

He was so tired that he yawned. She, not thinking, pulled his pants off and

handed them to him. She climbed into the bed, which was only inches smaller

than Draco's and pulled the covers tight around her. 'This dreary place is

colder than the dungeons.' She heard her door close with a click and a yawn.

The surrounding in this room were similar to Draco's, without the personalized wall hangings. The only tapestry was the Malfoy House Crest hanging in

front of the bed. There were no velvet curtains, but the light cotton curtains of

summer. She was sure she would freeze before dawn.

*****************************************************

"Bloody girl! Waking me up at midnight because she had no bed. Where

are her bloody protectors? I expected Potty and the Weasel to show up here

accusing me of kidnap." He tried vainly to smooth out his wild hair. "Fabulous! She's seen my hair at its worst. This shall ride over well

at Hogwarts. 'Malfoy name smeared by daughter of bumbling idiot!' The

Daily Prophet will report this! I know it." He stopped in his tracks. "What am I thinking? The Daily Prophet is the Potty's butt kisser now." He stumped his shoulders and wished he had thought to bring his robe. He thought back on his day as he shivered.

It had begun normal enough. He had woken up to smell a hot breakfast

sizzling in the upper kitchens. 'House Elves are gifts from Heaven.' He

got dressed in his normal wear, black pants and a green jumper. Breakfast

was divine, just as he had suspected. 'Am I ever wrong?' The day wasn't too

exciting. Father was doing secretive right now and today was Mother's

shopping trip with the other wives. She would Apparate to Paris or

Milan, stay a week or two, then return to kiss Draco and hoped he wasn't too

lonely all day while she was gone. He had reign of the house. He could sit

around in the chairs with his legs hung over the arms and no one to tell him otherwise. He could run around naked and only House Elves would see. Not that he cared, because any that threaten to tell their beloved Mistress Narcissa, he would threaten right back with clothes. He always loved when his father had business and her shopping trips rolled around.

He hadn't expected her. She was almost a pleasant surprise. Until he

saw who see was. He had been hoping for Pansy, or Gregory's sister,

Margaret Goyle. Margaret Goyle, although several years his junior, was a sweet

girl who worshipped the air he flew in. Father always said that 'just

because you cannot imagine them as women now, remember that old crushes die hard.

The best wives are from ancient loyalties.' How disappointed he had been

when the Weasel's sister was unconscious on his hearth. He, however, had an

instinct borne deep within all Malfoys. Ammunition. He saves the little

Weasley, cares for her, and she owes him something. He could always

tell her that he could have told Blinky to throw her out to the buzzards. 'That

would fly over well with such a prideful girl.' At least that's what he told

himself. That was the cover story. Truly, deep down, he had an instinct

to care. He was, unfortunately, born with a heart. He saw her in need and

catered to it. And he hated himself. 'Why am I such a bloody pansy boy? Men

don't have hearts and run around as guys do, acting foolish. Curse the wimpy

relative of mine who had the heart.'

He had finally found his bed. He climbed gratefully into the black

sheets. They smelled of a sweet floral perfume and it lingered in his nose. He

knew exactly where she had lain and curled up in the scent without ever

realizing who had left that intoxicating smell in his sheets. One half feared it

would never wash out completely and the other half feared it would.

Morning had come all too early. He awoke to find her sitting in that same

chair, reading his book, in nothing more than his jumper. He rather wanted

it back. But, he can't have it right now; he couldn't disturb her right

now. He walked on by, yawning himself awake and looking for some breakfast.

She looked up from the small print on the page and looked only briefly at

him before it hit her. 'Where in heck am I?' She suddenly realized that her

mother probably had the entire Ministry of Magic looking for her. He, surprisingly, had been thinking the same thing. He decided to speak

first.

"As much fun as its been," he began. "I believe that your Mother will

have a heart attack if you don't hurry back home." He looked down from her,

into his coffee which had become surprisingly intriguing in the last second.

He had said all he needed to. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod

her head and close his book. Grudgingly she set it aside and cast a

mournful glance at it. "Take it with you. I can afford to buy another copy." She

grabbed the book, and smiled a brief thanks to him. Her love of the

book made her thoughtless to his remarks. Without considering her attire,

she grabbed some Floo Powder and threw it into the cheerless flames. They

turned a beautiful emerald, thrashing at the chimney. She shoved her head

through and saw that the kitchen was currently empty. She proceeded through the flames.

**********************************************************************

She had only just showered, changed her clothes and brushed her hair before the interrogation began. "Where were you?" Her mother was on her faster

than a hippogriff on a ferret. "Why weren't you home? I want to know where you were! No note, no explanation, nothing. Are you so old you feel you don't need your poor mother anymore? I was so worried I nearly fainted. You

haven't answered any of my questions!" Ginny was pressed to answer her questions. Quickly. She stammered and stalled as long as possible.

"I got an message from Luna. She, uh, sent it through Pig. She invited me for just a while. Knowing you would...um, be at Diagon Alley all day

getting everyone's supplies...I... uh,... decided that I could go too. I'm sorry I

forgot to write a ..a note or something. Next time I'll be more considerate

and think of other people's...um, feelings." No one could ever say she hadn't

tried. She knew she smelled strongly of aftershave and didn't look ever

well-kept, but she got off with a small scolding. 'There are perks to

being an only girl. They let you get away with so much.' She ran upstairs to

her room. Hermione was hunched over the desk, scribbling furiously, and not

paying the slightest bit of attention to her. She noticed Draco's

jumper half peeking out from under her bed. She shoved it sleeve under the covers

more. She looked around for the Fellowship. It was right next to Hermione's

arm. She knew that Hermione wouldn't be suspicious about a book. She

grabbed the book and Hermione never looked at her. 'Did she know I knew?' She

decided she could use the bathroom as a place where no one would

constantly opening her door. She locked the door manually. She couldn't wait until

she could use magic like Fred and George.

She opened The Lord of the Rings just to see if anything incriminated

where it was from. She opened to the title page and there inscribed in his

scratchy scrawl was the name 'Draco Malfoy' She knew all she had to do

was scratch it out... but she wanted to keep his name there. Something

told her it belonged right there and no one should destroy the man's inscription. She shut the book, afraid of the feelings she was experiencing. She looked at her reflection in the darkened mirror." I've turned so hard in one night. How will I ever spent more than one day with him if this is the price I will pay?" She left the bathroom, quite

downcast. She shoved the book between the mattresses of her bed. She

worried about the morrow.

*********************************************

The house was so cold and empty since she left. It was exactly like it

had been before she arrived, but the cold seemed to cut at him so much

more. It gnawed at his bones and licked at his flesh. Blinky made have attributed to

the now heavy gloom. After arriving with Wealsey's newly laundered

clothes to hear that she had left, Blinky sank into a rut of despair. She had grown quite attached to the Weasel's sister in one night. Draco was going to remedy that quickly. Mother was due home soon. If she notices Blinky's predicament, Blinky will spill in a moment that Draco's heart had overpowered his head. He had begun to hate himself with more power. 'Why? Why am I such a pansy boy? Why is the world so cold and dark now? This is my home and now it holds no pleasure for me? If she would have just stayed another night...' His head shook involuntarily. He was a Malfoy, he was not to be so emotional. But still, he wished for her presence. Even silently reading, her mere scent would warm his body better than any fire.

'I must stop this incessant moaning! A true Malfoy doesn't rely on human connections to have a successful life. Why break tradition now?' His parents weren't in love. His parents weren't even friends. When they were 13, plans were arranged for them to be married. They waited for her finish her education so she could perform magic. Her job was to produce an heir for the Malfoy name. She produced a son straight off and her duties were complete. She now had her reward, the pride of the Malfoy name and fortune. Draco was happy he was a firstborn son. No siblings to contend with, no one who would annoy him. He wasn't a Weasley. And was happy. 'I'm happy. I have everything in life. Money, friends, and good looks.' The truth was he rarely saw a dime of the Malfoy fortune. He wasn't allowed to know his parent's

vault number until they were long dead. Everything was supplied for him.

His friends...humph! a whole different story. They were all over him. Crabbe and Goyle were big stupid brutes who couldn't read The Lord of the Rings on a book on tape. Pansy Parkinson was a pug faced idiot. She did her best to be the next Narcissa Malfoy. She was trying to get her name on the list potential wives for the only son of Lucius Malfoy. So far she needn't try so hard. Lucius Malfoy was narrowing the list down as we speak. Pansy Parkinson and Margaret Goyle were close to the top. But, if Margaret was chosen, they would have to wait a few weeks after her 18th birthday before they would marry. Draco didn't mind if he had to wait a thousand years. His marriage would mimic his parent's just like theirs had mimic his grandparent's. Loveless, lifeless, and lonely. Single life was only slightly different from married life. Only that she had access to his vault.

He knew that he should never have grown to enjoy company. Hogwarts was a bad influence on him. He learned to enjoy listening to his roommates breathe slowly with sleep. It was soothing to him and he could listening to her breathe forever. Them. He could listen to them breathe forever. 'Why?' Why is she invading his thoughts all day and night? Why does that perfume haunting his nose and the sound of her breath torturing his ears?' One day he spends caring for her and she has ruined him! 'No more! Never again will I be the weak link in the chain!' He had turned so soft in one day. How was he ever to spend any time with her if this was the price he had to pay?

*********************************************************************

"Harry, she knows!" Hermione whispered harshly. "She knows everything! She has probably read about every aspect of our relationship!" Hermione was fuming around the around the room.

"How, Hermione?" Harry was more bewildered at his girlfriend than ever before. She had been known to rant incessantly.

"MY DIARY, YOU DEAF IDIOT!" she whispered all the more severely. "I never got the chance to wipe it clean before I left for Diagon Alley and she must have found it!" Hermione was pacing up and down the room, the floorboards beneath her squeaked their indignity of being treated as so. Harry cast his face to the opposite side of the room. He wasn't hurt at her words; he was thinking about their repercussions. If Ginny really did know, then what were they to do? He was sure that she didn't still have a crush on him. Not after all these years. Why? Why did Ginny care if Harry had found happiness in another? She should be happy for them. He never blew up at her dating Michael Corner or Terry Boot. Or even Dean Thomas. If he thought her to be his exclusive property, then a rage was long overdue, wouldn't one think? He turned back from the wall and her face made him jump slightly. Hermione was right in his face, saying something he, obviously, hadn't heard. Maybe she was overreacting but he didn't care. For the first time in his life, he was more afraid of Ginny then anything else in the world.

**********************************************************************

That night, she laid in her bed, thinking of how cold and hard it was. The white sheets held not the warmth and comfort of sheets she had once used. The mattress was surprising firmer than she remembered it being. Her twin bed was almost stifling her; she was sure if she moved she would fall out. It smelled of flowers and perfume and she missed the musky scent of his aftershave. She couldn't quite understand how in one night she could grow to love so much. And grow to hate herself for it. She wanted to go again. She wanted to go back to that cold house so far from where she was and she couldn't figured out how. Lucky for her, he already had.

She received an owl that morning when she was out to shop. She was alone; she had volunteered for a chance to escape the house. The owl, which had been circling around trying to locate her exact place, swooped down on her when she had arrived at the market. She hoped that it hadn't seen her leave 12 Grimmuld Place but she was sure it hadn't after she tried to send the letter to where she was staying. An owl could find you even with the most vague instructions, but this regal owl just looked hard into her eyes. It scarily reminded her of someone. She tore off his letter and set the owl down on a lamp pole. It was still early enough that an owl wouldn't seem suspicious. She opened the letter and immediately recognized the green ink and scratch of a one Draco Malfoy.

Weasley,

A Malfoy is always charitable but we do not commend theft. You have

stolen from Malfoy Manor and expect you back immediately with the jumper. It belonged to my father and I would remind you that when Lucius Malfoy is stolen from, he doesn't sit like a toad and wait for someone else to take charge. I command you to bring back the jumper soon. Not that I'll ever wear the thing again; not after you contaminated it. Beside, Blinky has been holding your clothes ransom and crying over them. I'll do anything to shut her up. Even look at you again. Remember, I give you 24 hours before my father hears of this.

Draco Malfoy

"Conniving little twerp. 'A Malfoy is always charitable' my foot! I'll give the scheming little git his jumper back. But now, I have a plan.' She jammed his letter into her pocket and tore off to the marketplace. 'Midnight tonight.'

After she was sure Hermione was dead asleep on the couch, as always,

and the rest of the house was snoring peacefully,

she went into the kitchen. The fireplace used for some of the cooking was flickering in the dark. She grabbed the Floo Powder and whispered 'Malfoy Manor' before she was whirled away.

AS Ginny banged around in the fireplace she remembered what had happened the last time she had whispered the words Malfoy Manor. She hunched her shoulders up around her head so that she wouldn't hurt herself. When she landed she stumbled into an immaculate parlour that she vaguely remembered from her last visit. She had used the library fireplace to get home last night. All of a sudden a pop sounded from her side. She looked down into the happy eyes of Blinky the house elf that had grown to love her during her last visit. "Mistress Ginny! You have come back. I has your clothes for you. The ones that you left here." Blinky had latched on to her leg as a form of hug. Ginny reached down and patted Blinky's head.

"I need you to take me to Master Draco's room. I have to give him something back." She said to Blinky.

"Oh, but Mistress I cans give it to him. HE is sleeping and Blinky don't want to wake him up." The scared house-elf said in a worried tone.

"Oh you will have to do absolutely none of the waking. I will wake him up myself." Ginny said. Blinky still looked unsure of this but she took her towards Draco's room. As she walked down the imposing hallways Ginny looked at many wall hangings. There was only one that really caught her attention. She walked over to the wall and looked at it. It was a family with the Malfoy name at the top. There were serpent twining themselves around the name. She looked on the tree and saw names that she had expected to be there. There were names such as Lucius Malfoy and Draco and Narcissa Malfoy and even a black part where Ginny knew that Sirius had blasted off his name not wanting to be known as a family member to a death eater. When she saw one name that stood out to her she was amazed. The name she saw was James Potter. James Potter? Wasn't that Harry's dad?

"Come on Mistress you need to talk to Master Draco then you need to go home or sleep here." Ginny was still in shock at what she had just seen. She walked in a daze towards Draco's room. When she reached the door she remembered what she was here for. She shook herself out of the shock she had fallen into. She walked quietly into Draco's room and heard a light snoring coming from the cherry wood four poster bed that she had become rather fond of. She walked over to the desk deciding to wake him up the same way that she had woken him up before. She grabbed the bushiest quill that she could find and walked over to the side of the bed that Draco was sleeping on.

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The blasted smell of her was still in his dreams. He smelled the sweet rose and violet bath soap that she used and he could hear the deep breathing of her while she slept in his bed. All of a sudden Draco felt a feathery thing under his nose. It almost felt like the way that she had woken up that night when she had shoved his quill under his nose. He felt like he was going to sneeze and he stuck his hand up under his nose and felt the quill. His eyes flew open and he saw the twinkling eyes of one Miss Ginerva Weasley staring into his.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here? And I thought I told you not to wake me up like that." Draco huffed at her.

"Well fine I believe that I will just take this lovely Quidditch jumper back with me to my house and use it was a cat bed. I think that Hermione's cat will love it." He knew that bringing Hermione into this was not the smartest thing in the world to do. She walked away but with Malfoy's seeker reactions she didn't get to the three steps to the door before he was in front of her stopping her.

"You will not give that mudblood Granger my Quidditch jumper. It is worth more than

your life." Draco said as if challenging her into an argument. Ginny felt the famous Weasley temper boil up. She narrowed her eyes which had turned almost black with hate at Draco.

"DON'T YOU DARE CALL HERMIONE A MUDBLOOD. SHE IS MORE THE WITCH THEN YOU WILL EVER BE. AND TRUE WEALTH IS WHEN YOUR FAMILY LOVES YOU AND THEY SPEND TIME WITH YOU NOT LEAVING YOU TO YOUR OWN DEVICES." Ginny yelled at him. He smirked at her not expecting this much anger just because he had call the Granger a mudblood. She had heard him do it before. He thought to himself that if this was even one bit of the anger that her mother had he almost felt bad for weasel and his family. Then he remembered who he was thinking about. "And what in bloody hell are you smirking at?" He turned his attention back to the fuming girl in front of him.

"Smirking? I? Never would have thought that I smirked at anything! Your powers of conception amaze me! Quick! Tell me, what am I thinking?" His sarcasm was mandatory but her reaction was anything but the norm.

"Your jumper is on the chair in the parlour, the one next to the library," she said calmly. "I'm going bloody home." She turned her back to him, walking out of the room, leaving him standing like a deer caught in the headlights. He ran from the room, completely confused. He caught her arm rather roughly, forcing her to stop in her tracks and stare at him. "I don't know how violent it is in the Malfoy household, but Weasleys don't cause bodily harm to their guests." She was intent on just going home, leaving him to just sod off to whatever he did in his room alone. He turned his back to her, mumbling something he thought she couldn't hear. She stopped, agape, staring speechlessly at him. "What do you mean, 'it isn't the guests who have to worry'?" He shrugged her off, hoping she would just get agitated and leave. "Draco," she said, using his first name in a voice riddled with concern and panic. "What. Do. You. Mean?"

"I mean THIS!" he yelled. He stripped his robe off and turned his back to her, displaying a large blemish of purple and blue on his ivory skin. He turned his face to her, "My father did this," he said hatefully, "curiosity satisfied now?"

"Oh, Draco," she said, her voice a chasm of sympathy. "I didn't know." She slowly walked towards the shivering body standing in front of her. He turned his back to her approaching figure, not able to look in her face. She placed a smooth hand on the middle of his bruise and slid her hand around the borders, applying no pressure. She glided her hand up his smooth shoulder blades, resting it on his muscular shoulder. She took a step closer; he could feel her body inches from his bare skin, her chest rising, falling with each quiet breath. She laid her head on his solid back, sapping the arrogance out of his stance. He slouched slightly against her pressure. He felt as if it took the pressure of his soul; like he was sharing his burden. "I won't tell if you don't want me too." Her words broke the mutual bond. He came quickly to his senses, shaking her off of him. He walked into his room, leaving her in utter disbelief. She shook herself, then left to walk to the bedroom she had slept in not three days before.

She was awake at 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 o'clock. Racked with regret and anxious about how he would treat her, she decided to just go home before he awoke. Much to her chagrin, he was sitting in the high backed chair of the parlour with his jumper held sadly in his rough hands. She couldn't decide if he was awake or asleep from this distance. She walked up slowly, not saying a word. He was, Merlin be thanked, fast asleep. He wasn't angelic, or demonic while he slept, but he had a calm about him. It was the sleep of a tormented soul. The restless, quiet sleep of a troubled man. She was on the verge of tears at the sight of him. He only looked vulnerable when his eyes were shut. She bent slowly, placing a small peck on his cheek. He only stirred slightly and she quietly ( as best as she could) floo-ed herself home.

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The roar of the flames woke him up. He blinked his eyes groggily, his mind barely processing. "Where am I?" he said hatefully. A dull ache resided in his back from sleeping slumped in the hard, rigid chair. Blinky poked her dirty head around the edge of the chair.

"You is in your favourite chair, just where Mistress Ginny left you."

"She's gone?" he asked stupidly. Blinky shook her head violently. "Uh," he grunted as he pounded his head against the chair.

"Master," Blinky began. Draco turned his head towards her not lifting it from its position. "Master Draco, is Mistress Ginny ever coming back?"

"Blinky, if she ever comes back it will be bloody bad luck for us. Good fricking riddance, I say." Her large eyes quivered under the weight of the water. Tears streaming, she smacked her long, bony fingers over her eyes. Her feet slapped across the cold stone floor. He straighten his head and shut his eyes. "What a bloody bad day this is going to be." He slowly raised himself from the chair, sore from a night of sleeping in it. A thought crawled lazily through his mind, 'she comes home today.' He stopped, "Mother comes home today" was what he shouted. "Oh, sh..." The events of last night completely vanished from his mind, replaced with the thought of Narcissa coming home to see his wing of the house a complete mess. Oh the words he would hear! "Blinky, get yourself in here NOW!" he roared. Blinky stumbled in, still sobbing fiercely. "Blinky, Merlin will have your head if this place isn't cleaner than St. Mungo's by the time Mistress," Blinky perked with hope, "Narcissa gets back." Blinky's ears laid flush with her dull pate, her head bowed fearfully, and all she could murmur was "Yes, yes Master Draco." She ran straight for the kitchen adjoining Draco's quarters, her high pitched voice could be heard doling out chores. Draco, dazed from his sudden realisation, walked straight into the room she had occupied that night. Stripping the sheets manually, the scent of his aftershave and her violet soap alarmed him. "Why the devil does it smell like her?" he thought puzzled. "Maybe its because she's been in your house, slept in that bed and worn your jumper for the past three days, you ignorant prat?" That little voice was really bugging him; it sounded a lot like Granger. He threw the sheets into a massive pile, then started on the pillowcases. A pair of socks, obviously not his but the thought never entered his mind, laid beside the bedside table. He just threw them on the pile. He bent slowly to lift the light but large load. He walked out, placing the linens next to a rather small House Elf. 'How's he gonna carry that?' he thought numbly. The House Elf snapped his fingers and the load hovered behind him to the laundry room. Draco shook himself, finally remembering he owned a magic wand. "Flaming idiot," he mumbled. Going to his chambers, he waved his wand and the sheets were floating to the House Elves, the floor sparkled, and the clothes folded themselves, following the sheets. "I'm so fricking screwed."

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"Heaven have mercy!" Molly Weasley shrieked. Ginny, unfortunately, had picked the wrong time to come tumbling through the kitchen fireplace. She was covered in soot; her muggle jeans ripped at the knees. "Ginerva Molly Weasley!" Oh, no, the full name treatment. Merlin, was she in trouble now. "You have done this twice now! Run off without so much as a note or a...a...you have done this twice now!" Ginny flinched under her mother's scolding. "The first time, I looked away; but now, I don't know WHAT to do with you. The easy treatment never worked on Fred and George and it never works on Ron so it bloody well ain't gonna work on you!" Molly was positively hot. Ginny just hung her head, taking her punishment. The Weasley's only girl never got punished, severely. "Annnnnd," she began, drawing out the word, "that broomstick that you've been begging for? Yeah, that," Ginny perked, "not going to happen after all this." She turned away, going to cook something as per usual. Ginny turned quickly and, to her horror, faced the whole house. Hermione and Ginny's eyes locked for a second before Ron spoke up.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled. "That's the worst punishment she's ever done. Even Fred and George have gotten a lighter beating than that!"

"Shut the hell up, Ron," Ginny hissed. She stormed upstairs, locking the bedroom door behind her. She was sick of this. This whole setup. All these different people with different personalities living together under one roof for so long. Molly, Arthur, Fred, George, Ron, Harry, Hermione, herself, and various Order members. She hated that. All these people, all the time. She thought of a quiet house so far away from where she was. She cried. She didn't know why, she just did. It wasn't over a broomstick or a scolding. She just cried.

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Draco wasn't feeling too great right then. His head was aching, his arms were ready to fall out of their sockets. It didn't bother him too much. There was no one to put a show on for so what was the purpose? Blinky was scurrying around insanely. Draco plopped down in the chair he had spent the night in. Just sitting there, watching. Blinky ran to the right of him. Blinky ran to the left and his head followed. Again, to the right with Draco's head traveling in the same direction. Now, the left again. "Merlin, stop it!" he yelled. "Its like playing Quidditch with Crabbe and Goyle. They aren't smart enough to do anything but pass the bloody bludger back and forth. If you so much as walk in front of me again, I give you a pair of socks just like Dobby!" Blinky stood there, quaking at the thought of clothes. She snapped her fingers and she appeared at the right. Another snap and she was on the left. Right, left, right, left. Draco rolled his eyes muttering darkly, "Bloody hell." Draco forced his body to straighten. He thought he heard a noise. "Who's in the house at this hour? Its barely midnight, Mother isn't due for an hour or so." He walked slowly into the adjacent room. He heard a violent coughing. Soot was flying all around the room; the nice, clean room he had spent hours directing House Elves on.

"You know, it would do you bloody well to clean the fricking chimney once and awhile," she said. Draco almost sighed with relief, but not in front of her.

"Weasley, you know, it would do you bloody well to give someone some notice when you're going to drop in the middle of their house!" he said, hoping to stir up a rise in her.

"Well, I have a plan. You want to hear it or not because, you know, I could always just leave?" His head pounded just little harder.

Raising a hand to his throbbing temples, he asked "I don't remember agreeing to this bloody little scheme of yours."

"You did too!" she crisply retorted. Her hands flew to her hips, angry that he would try to bail on her now.

"No, no. My precise words were 'If you can come up with something worthy of a Malfoy's time, I might even consider it.' I don't hear agreeing in that sentence anywhere."

"Bloody bad luck for you. 'Cause, you're doing whether you like it or not. Understood?"

"Ewww, Dominatrix Weasley. Watch it, Potter, your woman wears the pants. Just like Potter," he scoffed, "always the one checking his makeup." Ginny seemed unusually mad at these words but just as she opened her mouth to answer, a resounding pop! came from the library. "What in hell was that?"

"Damned if I know," she swore rather roughly. She was angry and he knew it. A high pitched "Draco, darling!" floated in the blacken parlour. Draco swivelled away from Ginny.

"Oh, sh..." he stopped himself. "That's Mother," he said to Ginny's puzzled face.

"Mother? Mother. Mother!" Her eyes popped a little at this final realization. "Oh, sh..." he covered her mouth.

"Get in the closet,' he began. A muffled but angry 'why?' reached his ears. "Why? I'll bloody tell you why. She's coming. Now get in the bloody closet."