Like Poison

12^th of April, 1997.

Taking a step out of the broom shed, Ginny looked up and heard the first rain drop land on the tin roof with a splat. When another drop splattered on her shoulder she hurried back into the small shed, overrun with brooms, chairs and Quidditch equipment.

She had spent all her day practicing new routines for the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor and the air had done her good, she felt refreshed. She had seen Draco walking aimlessly around for hours: sitting and staring out at the lake, and walking at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and then disappearing into the green houses for hours. He had come out as the sun was starting to set and the rain beginning to fall.

Now, standing in the doorway of the tin shed, she was able to see Draco doing the same inside green house three. He went deeper into the glass house while keeping his eyes trained onto her. She could see his hazy shape through the wet glass, but in a moment he was out again. Ginny watched him in curiosity as he left his refuge, casting drying and warming spells on himself.

She felt it, now that he'd reminded her; there was a faint hint of cold in the air. How to make it to the castle without getting wet, she wondered while she searched the broom shed for something to use as shelter. The shed, however, had nothing, unless she was prepared to slap away the rain drops with an old Shooting Star.

"Are you planning to wait out the rain?" an amused voice spoke from the doorway and she squinted in the dark to see its owner: A lean body, trendy clothes and that infuriating tilt of the head.

"I left my wand-"

"I thought so." He handed her a folded, yellowed Daily Prophet. Puzzled she turned it over in her hand. When she looked up he was smiling slightly. "Shelter." She made a silent O with her mouth in astonishment.

Heading back together, with him using his wand to cast a shelter spell and she using the old newspaper, they walked in silence.

"It's good rain," he broke it and she looked over at him, all dry and warm. She gave him her cheek, looked away and muttered under her breath.

"This time of year?" The rain was leaking through the old newspaper, now landing on her head and running down her back. She dropped the newspaper (what use was it anyway) to the flooded grass and folded her arms across her chest.

"It's odd isn't it?"

He watched her out of the corner of his eye for a short while and then returned his eyes to the looming castle. Ginny didn't feel the rain and rather ignored her soaked clothes. It was like the rain didn't matter, which it didn't really. She felt it acceptable to be with Draco Malfoy under the shelter of the rain.

His eyes were on her dripping hair one second and then on her drenched singlet the next. And the way he feasted on her body with his eyes didn't bother her even though she felt it in her bones.

He watched as her hips swayed with every step and his eyes kept on travelling back to her bare shoulders. The water had wet her completely and she knew he liked it. "The rain suits you." And he touched her right shoulder in a leisurely fashion, with two fingers, that ran down her arm to her elbow and then dropped. Escaping from under his shelter, his hand had gotten wet when he touched her and became cold. But his fingertips had been warm when they touched her supple skin, transmitting the warmth of her. He tucked his assaulted hand in his pocket with an air that he meant he indeed agreed with himself that the rain suited her very well.

They entered the castle through the courtyard and stopped at the doors.

"I'll change my clothes," she said irrelevantly. "We have detention at eight."

He was watching her- scrutinising and inspecting - he shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes were all over her, examining her from head to foot.

"Why do you watch me in that way?" The rain beat harder and cold wind blew in through the doors. He looked away and in the direction of the dungeons. "It's not the first time. I've seen you doing it before."

"What's it like being watched?"

"It makes me uncomfortable. Why do you do it?"

"Because I want and I like to,"

"What do you want?" A long silence was interrupted by the sound of the rain hitting the stained glass protecting the dark corridor where they stood.

"What you want."

"But what do you want?"

"Ask yourself."

It seemed cliché to want love or money or a fine house. It was too cliché to want to be held or to want all those things that were associated with one's safety. Besides the obvious, a standard that everybody wanted, she didn't know exactly what she wanted out of life, out of herself or the people that she associated herself with. Sure, money was grand, but would it be enough?

She was at a crossroads, to be precise about it. But crossroads wasn't the right word, because it implied two roads meeting at ninety degree angles to form a cross. It was more a fork in the road: to associate with Draco and take a left or to keep going the way she was and swerve to the right.

He wanted what she wanted...to make a choice. No, he wanted her to make a choice of how to walk the fork in the road.

Gradually, Ginny knew that her decision wouldn't just decide the course of her life, but his as well. And perhaps that made her choice more urgent, maybe it gave it more weight or maybe it forced her to be more careful with her answer. Perhaps it made her brave. Being brave didn't mean that she wasn't afraid, but that she overcame her fear and made a decision. And she was afraid in an awful way. And because he waited upon her, she wanted to go against all common sense and do what she wasn't meant to do: Associate herself with the devil, with the player, with the bad boy, and beat him at his own game. She would do it in spite of what he expected her to say, which was to back down and say no.

Ginny would meet him at his own ground and beat him for that was the real test. If she could keep her head when all about her were losing theirs, to be with him and make him fall, that's what being brave was. If she could trust herself to hide her fear and be with him, that was bravery. To avoid the danger and stay where she was to be safe, was cowardice.

Staying meant that she was safe and that she knew her surroundings like the pillars of her canopy bed or the threads on her school robe. Staying meant that her feet were firmly placed and that she wouldn't get hurt. But venturing into the unknown, being with Draco, was bravery, because she was challenging not lying down and accepting all that came her way. If she chose Draco, she risked falling and caring for him, enjoying his company, she risked losing, being beaten by him.

Ginny was a brave person, she liked to think without hesitance of herself that way. She wasn't like Harry: she wasn't brave in a way that saved the world. Harry fought things outside of himself but she fought them inside. Perhaps this was more difficult. It enlarged the danger, made it more difficult to make a choice if what she was gaining was at the same measure as what she was losing. Draco meant no family - no Ron, Molly, or Gryffindor. Being with Draco wasn't just a fling, he was obsessed and he wasn't one to be taken lightly. Draco meant commitment, not that he was asking for commitment, but to form any sort of friendship or alliance with him meant that she would be held to it by everyone for the rest of her life. Everyone would want to say their little bit and get a chance to say 'I told you so' if it didn't go according to plan.

This was what she was making a choice about - the corse of her life. And, in his own way, he was letting her know that the choice was hers alone to make and that he would accept whatever verdict she reached. He made it clear that he wanted her, that he watched her because he liked it, that there wasn't a doubt about what choice he wanted her to make. Yet, he also let her know, indirectly, that it was her choice to make. No one had done that before. She felt free, weightless. Nothing mattered.

"Right now I want to be warm,"

"Mmm..."

"And to feel safe and to eat, because I'm hungry." He tilted his head to one side and nodded as if considering it. He then came closer and his whole body seemed to agree with her.

"And what will you want tomorrow and the day after that?"

"The simple things, like a blanket when I go to sleep or hot coffee and a book when it rains..."

"After that-" he held out his arms as if gesturing to all the items that she had just listed because they were lined on shelves around them "-after you have all those things what else would you want?"

"I don't know... I'll always want more."

"Yes, you will always want more. But what's more? Is more being safe? Knowing that you won't get killed while drinking your coffee and reading your book?"

"What exactly are you trying to get at Draco?" She realised that she had never used his first name in a general conversation and that this, in fact, was the first real conversation she had ever had with him. He wasn't bad at it (conversation that is). He made her say things that she normally wouldn't.

He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged as he watched the rain outside the arched doorway. She thought there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Why don't you tell me what you want?" she said.

"What I want?" he asked himself and nodded a little, glancing at her from under the almost white hair draped in front of his eyes. She heard him crack a finger inside his pocket and then another. "I want a lot of things..."

"Tell me the things that stands out most." She came closer to him, unconsciously wanting to make him feel comfortable with revealing private things to her. She wanted to him to confine his secrets to her. He half turned towards her and smiled a little.

"You don't know?" he asked mockingly. After a moment, in which she chose to stay silent, he exhaled loudly. "My most immediate want is for you to stop pretending and then right after that I want you to stop being afraid of making choices. To stop being a coward and do what you want to do, because then I'd be able to do what I want to do."

Feeling the first hint of anger she turned on him, bumping him with her elbow in the process. She didn't know when she'd moved so close. "You don't know that you hurt people do you? You don't even think about how rude you are!" He looked a little surprised as he faced her.

"You're not used to being told the truth," he stated and his way of knowing everything made her angrier with him.

"You're not used to minding your manners!"

"You don't need to insult me to get your point across. My mother used to say that if one couldn't get the same effect out of one's words when calm, instead of resulting to insults, then one had to stop and reapproach oneself. That the lack wasn't in one's opposition, but truly, the short-coming was in oneself."

What was she to possibly say to that? Curse his dead mother? "Well, your mother was a wise woman, wasn't she!"

"I always thought so."

"Good, I think so too!"

"Though never with that heat."

She breathed for her sake. She took a deep breath of the air that smelled of rain and dust and breathed it out evenly. Concentrate on your breathing. Yes, that's it, good.

"You're infuriating," she said when she was calm and able to speak evenly.

"I know." He nodded.

"You're pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

"Should I be?"

"You're so good at it that I don't see why not."

"Alright. I am. I'm very glad of the intense emotions that I arouse in your person."

"Even if they do conjure images of sharp objects and blood all over the place?"

"I've got to start somewhere." He smirked out at the rain and removed his hand from his pocket. His placed it lightly on her shoulder, smearing the rain drops that had half evaporated from her body heat.

"You could start be removing your paw from my shoulder," she said.

"Or not." He stretched his fingers as if trying to touch as much of her with one open hand, as he could.

"Take your hand off me!" He smiled without humour.

"You know you're only saying that so when you like it you'll want more without guilt." They locked eyes for a long moment, as she bit down on her anger.

She suddenly turned on him and hit him in the chest with her arm, causing him to fall back on the wall. "Stop acting like you know everything, like you're this higher being sent to guide me and point out the obvious things that I'm too stupid to see! You can't do that! You can't bloody be the person to guide people when you're dripping shit all over the place! Fix yourself first before you try fixing others, you bloody hypocrite!"

"I'm not trying to fix you," he said in a whisper as he regained his composure and flattened his shirt collar.

"Then what? What do you fucking want of me!"

"I don't want anything of you. I want you," he said it in an outraged manner, like how dare she miss it, how dare she question him, how dare she!

"No!" She pushed his chest with her palm and he didn't stagger or show any sign of having lost breath so she did it again and again. He let her and this made her angrier. "Fuck you alright! No! You can't have me! I'm not like those girls that you shag and toss aside-"

"I won't do that. You know it, that's why you're angry."

"STOP IT! Stop knowing everything!" She breathed as if she'd just run down one of Hogwarts' long corridors and now began gasping for breath, lamely trying to hide her loss of control.

"You know what else I know-" He caught her hand when she flung out at hit him again, squeezed tightly and then let it go - as if the danger to himself was over because he had it all figured out. He stood close to her and she took a few steps back.

"Yes, you know what I don't want you to know, eh?" she mocked.

"Precisely."

"That's what you get from stalking someone for a year," she taunted, "because you could do nothing better with yourself. You bloody creep!" He looked at her steadily, the absolute perfect portrait of calm and in the silence she heard nothing but her own ragged breathing. She watched him angrily as she stuck out her left arm to see how far it was to the wall, but she kept on missing and her hand flailed aimlessly in the air.

He sneered and she flinched. He held out an arm and she saw it as if in slow motion, as he touched her left shoulder with his outstretched fingers and, leisurely, drove force through them and pushed her back against the wall. She tripped a step and her left hand found the cool stone. He hadn't moved, but she felt as if she'd been cornered.

"You sadistic bastard," she muttered and then louder she yelled, "bastard!" She found her shoulders shivering and felt as she sunk into herself. Her eyebrow twitched and then she bit her bottom lip, scathing it with her teeth, and licking it then repeating the process. He just watched her, not blinking, staring her down until she felt her throat beginning to hurt from her effort to suppress an outburst.

"Why are you afraid, what do you think I'll do to you?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered furiously.

"What then? Why are you shaking?" He came closer and began to caress her neck with one hand, his thumb travelling up and down the curve, to her chin and then back to her collarbone. "I've never raped and I never will, if that's what you're worried about." And her fear shattered like a glass window under attack by a square brick. It wasn't because his words were so comforting, but because what had been standing between them was resolved. She stopped shivering and held his wrist that was still on her neck.

"You don't stop when I ask you to, you think you have a right to my body-"

"No, I don't, you're right." He dropped his hand and pocketed them both. He stood there, after what he had just done, composed like a guiltless person who had done absolutely nothing to cause her distress. "I'll only do what you want me to," he stated and nodded to himself. She wondered if he could hear voices inside his head, and if he was agreeing with them on some long conversation that they'd been having. His moods changed very quickly and it was disconcerting because it made him difficult to read and eventually predict. He held her hand, patted it, and dropped it as if he was apologising. "I promise."

Without knowing why she let out a chuckle that went as quickly as it came. "You make me uneasy."

"I'll try to be more predictable," he said quickly as if he had been waiting for her to mention it. "I promise."

"That's two promises in less than a minute. Don't overload yourself." She surveyed his frame, and then went back to his face, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I give a little, I take a little," he said and held out his right hand on a diagonal slant, as if patting someone's back, assuring them of his honesty. Trust Draco? Trust the bloody devil while you're at it!

"What do you want in return then?" and as soon as she asked the question she felt extremely foolish. Sure Draco, ravish me right here in this damp corridor, who gives-

Then he was kissing her. His top lip was right under her nose, with his other one inside her mouth. She wasn't surprised, but more trying to brace herself. And then his hands were on her, as he held the back of her head, trying to drink her up, and grabbed her upper arm with his other large hand. He would make a quick flicker with a widely open mouth and then hold her tongue for a long moment, simply sucking. But there was nothing simple about it, that was it, nothing simple about Draco Malfoy or his kisses. Darn it! This whole situation is turning out like a sappy romance novel, she thought. And yes, she was able to think love hadn't overtaken her- her senses weren't completely overcome.

She broke the kiss and pushed him away very slightly. "I'm an honest person," she suddenly stated.

"Yes," he agreed and returned to kissing her.

"And a good person too." She shoved his face away with a hand on his cheek.

"I absolutely agree." Holding her hand away from her, he kissed her chin and then returned to her lips.

"You're not."

"We couldn't have met on more level ground."

"You're cruel and evil." He pulled away from her in irritation.

"Do you always find it necessary to carry out needless conversations while a man is trying to bloody do his job?"

"No," she said, frowning at him, "I'm just trying to form a firm understanding between us of where each of us stands. If we're going to make this-" She gestured between him and herself with her free hand "-we need to have some sort of understanding."

"Where you're a perfect person and I'm the darn devil?" He slapped her face lightly with her own hand. She cracked a laugh in surprise, escaped his hold and took a few steps in the direction of the Gryffindor tower. Standing straight, she shrugged.

"Yes."

"Because it makes you feel guilt free and all fuzzy inside?"

"Yes." She started walking down the corridor. "It actually does."

"You keep telling yourself that..." He muttered under his breath.

***

"You're very stealthy.... Very good." Ginny was putting up her hair, now dressed in a sliming black silk skirt down to her knees and a beige, short sleeved wrap around top.

Oracle froze and turned around. She had snuck into the dormitory and held the door opened a crack, peeking through and muttering to herself.

"Do you think someone saw me?" she whispered, searching the room frantically with her eyes. Ginny finished her hair and laughed inwardly.

"I don't know. I think Harry might be wearing your silk nightie and pretending to be me sleeping in my bed so he could catch you out," she whispered to Oracle, as she took careful steps towards the girl, imitating her suspicious stance. As if struck by lightning, Oracle straightened up and grimaced.

"Except you're not sleeping in your bed- Ginny!" Oracle suddenly grinned. "You've been naughty!" She took a few hurried steps towards her friend. Ginny busied herself with a disarray of assorted shoes.

"Yes, Oracle!" Ginny teased.

"You've been very naughty!" Oracle slapped her mouth with her hand, as if willing the words back in. "With Draco!" she finished gravely.

"Good on you, at least your inner eye still works," Ginny tried to dismiss the whole topic with disinterest.

"You were going to keep it from-"

"Thongs, or sandals?" She put each said item on a different foot. "It's raining, but it isn't cold, and I'm not going outside..."

"Thongs," Oracle dismissed quickly and watched as Ginny removed the sandal from one foot. With a sigh, Ginny stood up and straightened her clothes, waiting for Oracle's approval.

"How do I look?"

But Oracle wasn't paying attention to that. "You wicked girl..." she spoke with the uttermost emotion in her voice, and held her hand in front of her mouth in awe. Ginny smirked and watched Oracle's play with amusement.

"I thought it was what you wanted."

"Yes, but I never thought you would do it."

"He did it actually."

Oracle's expression changed to a knowing one. "Draco is always the invading force."

"As you so eloquently put it..." Ginny started for the door.

"When I slept with him he-"

At the door Ginny half turned back. "Don't you think that sort of thing is private? What he did."

"Well..." Oracle made a show of thinking hard, "not with Draco, no." Ginny huffed out the door. "Where you going, Gin?"

"I have detention remember,"

"Is that why you're dressing up?"

If you only knew why, Ginny snickered.

"You know, that Potions Master, if he dresses up a little I think - he'd be pretty hot," Oracle stated in a matter of fact tone and Ginny looked at her in astonishment. "I used to see how you used to stare at him when we had Potions together. That was a long time ago, since I don't do Advanced Sixth year Potions - I could only imagine how your lusty eyes are eating him up now. Though, I must say, he's a bit old for you if you're looking for a long term relationship and there's always the fact that he's Severus Snape. Now does that strike you as a man willing to commit and settle down or whatever you girlies look for in men?" Oracle folded her arms.

"How did your date go?" Ginny asked off topic.

"Yeah fine. So? Are you dressing up for the reason that I think you're dressing up for? Hoping for a little S and S and a little hug-and-kiss?"

Ginny weighed her options: to tell or not to tell.

"Ginny, you're forming a terrible love triangle. Draco - yeah, he's fine and all, Severus Snape - a little not exactly my taste and a bit hard to handle. A bit old for the reason that I previously mentioned, but Draco and Severus Snape at the same time?" When Ginny just stared blankly, Oracle leaned in and whispered, "frankly, I think it's a little suicidal, don't you?"

Ginny blinked. "Oh, pish posh!" And went down the girls' staircase with Oracle following.

"Pish posh? What kind of answer is that?" Ginny opened the portrait and was half way out. "You know, you're evading the question - you know they say silence is like a yes..."

Ginny smiled. "They also say silence is golden, but who am I to go pointing fingers, eh? Good evening, Oracle."

"You go get 'em tiger."

***

When Ginny was in the Transfiguration hallway, she came to a conclusion. Draco and she were now an item, and as it would be her choice to become one, it would be her responsibility to take the consequences. Ginny did not pride herself on many things, but one of the few things she was proud of herself for was her ability to be able to take the consequences of her own actions. She was ready for that.

If she lost her family and all of Gryffindor over it, she reasoned, life would go on. In three weeks, another piece of gossip would be travelling around and all news of Ginny and Draco would be forgotten. They would be tagged old news. As for her family, they would come around, that's what families were for, forgetting and forgiving.

One thing she wouldn't have anybody doing, was telling her to dissolve her relationship with Draco. She was her own person and she would follow her choices to the end. No one had the right to tell her what to do with her life or what choices to make and how to make them. They would warn her of the danger of associating with Lucius Malfoy's son and remind her of her first year. She could handle that, but only that.

She saw everybody around her making rash decisions and doing things they wouldn't normally do. It was the war, nobody knew if they had tomorrow, everybody wanted to live for the moment. They were all afraid they wouldn't do all they wanted to do. It became a popular phrase to 'do it now because you might never get a chance' and that's what she was doing. She was choosing to become friends with Draco, and thus choosing to put herself in a position where she might get hurt and where she might regret her actions.

However the outcome may be, be it a disaster or not, she could always blame it on the war. She was no saint; Ginny had always used anything and everything that she could for her benefit. And if it just so happened to be a herd of wizards cursing each other to hell, then let it be so. Since the start of the war, she had developed a philosophy: if she was going to spend all her time mourning the people who were killed, if she was going to worry about who might go next, then she would always live in fear. But if she used it to her own advantage, why, think of the fun she might have. Not like she was the only one doing it. Oracle, still went down to Hogsmeade to lie under random men; the looming danger over Hogwarts hadn't stopped her from her night time exploits. Why should Ginny alter herself for a war that wasn't even her own. For a war that was between the older generation. She hadn't wanted all this, she hadn't asked for war, why should she stop for it?

When she finally reached the Transfiguration classroom, she swung the door open with a smirk on her lips. The classroom was empty besides an image of two long legs clad in black trousers ending in a pair of booted feet and the tip of a blond head with its face covered with a newspaper.

"I was wondering, are we even meant to get detention during the holidays? That old fraud of a racoon-"

"Draco I was thinking-"

"Slow down there girl, you don't want to hurt yourself." He folded the Daily Prophet and threw it on the closest desk. He put his hands behind his head, and leaned back slowly. "Go on."

"Don't insult me," Ginny said firmly.

"It wasn't an-"

"Just say yes." She walked into the room and looked around with disinterest, and then let her eyes rest on him. "I don't like being spoken to with a hint of disrespect and I don't want to be treated like I'm imposing on your personal space. If that's too much for you, tell me."

"I didn't mean to disrespect you."

"Then you should watch yourself."

"You're threatening me are you?"

"Yes. You either treat me the way I wanted to be treated or-" she leaned down until her face was level with his "-there will be nothing between us and you will have to content yourself with watching from afar. Again." She straightened herself then cocked her head to the side. "What? You thought I'd just walk blissfully into your arms?"

He watched her for a long moment and then removed his hands from behind his head and stood. When he did, he was taller than her and was able to look down mockingly. "Did I invite you in?" He pushed her against the teacher's desk and let his hands travel up her arms to cup her breasts through her shirt and then hold her small waist in his large hands. "Did I?" He squeezed hard.

"Were you planning to just wack off to the sight of me then?" She smiled and he simply watched her with eyes that were slightly narrowed. His breath caressed her neck and cheeks and she studied his face in fascination. He was simply a fine featured male, with a pointy noise like a pixie, high cheekbones and a chin that had a slight cleft. His hair was always in his eyes and Ginny thought of how many times Oracle had said she wanted to push it back. How many times Ginny herself had wanted to snip it to just above his eyebrows. It was deliciously infuriating and she'd always wanted to attack her temptation with a sharp knife or a pair of fine scissors. Golden scissors, they had to be fancy and gold.

Soon, as the moment stretched on, she found herself gazing at the stretch of ceiling behind his head, learning its intricate carvings, seeing the stains and the ancient cracks. It was a beautiful ceiling made of hard stone. At the edges, in corners, there were spider webs and stains from the breath of students and teachers and chemicals from hundreds of years. How many people had breathed in this room? She imagined them from all different eras. Women in large, bodice tight dresses, men in bright coloured suits, women in shapeless dresses, short skirts, long skirts, tight pants, singlet tops, shorts, sandals, boots.

And, without noticing, she found herself close to him. She could no longer watch his face, no longer discover the fine creases under his eyes, or his perfectly shaped, peach coloured lips or nose or fair skin. His face was near her long neck and his lips were placing very slow, dry kisses. And she imagined still all the women that had been held like this in this room, by the dim torch light, with the smell of rotten wood and ancient things. All the women who had defied all rules, social etiquette and left behind family and friends. All the woman that chose this.... this kiss on the pulse of the neck, this caress on the side of the rib cage, the dance of his hair under the chin as he kissed, the breath that seeped through clothing to ensnare the senses.

The years passed through her mind and through them all were hands on thighs hiking up skirts, lips forcing down the neck of shirts and uncontrolled whimpers. A feeling of well- being and dizziness washed over her as she was pushed down on the desk. He was over her and kissing her lips in a way only he could kiss. In all the years he was being kissed back and her arms were around his waist forcing him closer. Kiss, kiss, caress and moan.

"Draco, get up," a hard male voice spoke from the door and they broke apart, not looking at the voice but still watching each other. He hadn't gotten off her, just dislodged his lips from hers and they looked towards the voice to see the Potions Master with a hand on the door and the other by his side. His face was arranged in a disinterested sneer.

"Yes?" Draco said evenly.

"An interesting way to spend your detention. It brings a whole new meaning to rubbing the teachers' desk clean." The older man glanced at Ginny and she found herself unable to hold his gaze and instead turned into Draco shirt, gently urging him to get off her. As if just realising that he was a step away from coupling in front of the Potions Master, he slowly travelled down her body and helped her up.

"Got bored."

As this, she shoved his frame away from her and took three strides closer to the Potions Master. "How shall we spend detention, then?"

He looked at her for a long time as if wanting to say something or rethinking his opinion of her. "Mister Weasley decided that he didn't need to show up..."

"I wouldn't know."

"There's no need for the three of you in any case. I only need one of you to help me in the dungeons." He glanced at Draco. "You can go back to your dormitory." When he looked down at Ginny there was a terrible smirk on his face. "You can help me."

Refusing to acknowledge Draco, Ginny left after the dark man in his dark robes without another glance in Draco's direction.

They walked on in a silence of ten minutes until they reached the chosen dungeon classroom, and the Potions Master shut the door behind Ginny. He stood at the door and she stopped half way inside the room, turning around to face him.

"What were you doing?" he asked in an angry voice.

Ginny stood puzzled for a couple of seconds, "I didn't think it needed much explanation..."

"Are you Weasley children ever able to think of the whole picture, beyond yourself?"

"What are you on about?"

"Miss Weasley, do you have the slightest idea what you were doing, what it could lead to?"

"Fertilisation?" Ginny lifted both her eyebrows.

"No, you stupid girl!" He advanced on her. "Initiating a... sexual relationship with Draco Malfoy could put the whole Order at risk!"

She was inwardly amused at his hesitation at the word sexual but gave him a straight face. "What I do with myself and whom I do it with, has nothing to do with your Order."

"Of course it does. Your parents are two strong members of the inner circle and you're running around with the son of Lucius Malfoy... don't you grasp the weight of your actions at all?"

"I would if Draco was any danger but he isn't. I would have thought you knew that with you being chums with Lucius Malfoy and all." She smiled sweetly.

"My friendship with Lucius was one initiated for obtaining information not a... an illicit relationship such as the one that you have with his son." He towered over her and she could see the crease between his eyebrows, felt like reaching up and rubbing it smooth.

She laughed. "We just created it this afternoon, we haven't had time to become illicit, sir." He was furious, she could feel his anger coming off him in vibes. All humour was wiped off her face. When he took another imposing step towards her, ready to accuse her further, she put a hand on his chest. He looked down at it with a mix of perplexity and irritation. "May I speak freely sir?"

"Yes..." She didn't think he thought about that command before giving it as he was still staring from her face to her hand with a stiff brow. She smiled to herself and with all her willpower she stopped herself from sniffing his clothes or flexing her fingers on his chest.

"What I do with myself and the people that I screw are none of your fucking business," she lifted the side of her lips when his eyes held hers in fury. "Sir," she added for formality's sake. She was afraid he was on the edge of slapping her or pulling out his wand and cursing the life out of her, but instead he took a few steps back and walked to his desk.

"Do your parents know?" he asked as he tidied a stuck of parchments. Picking up a quill and examining the ink stained end.

"Why should they?" She took a few steps closer to him and he turned around. With the feathery end of the quill pointed at her.

"I thought you Weasleys shared everything with each other." He thought about it and smirked. "Like a cult," he suggested.

"A cult? That's a new one; we've never been called a cult before." When he said nothing she continued, "my parents don't know."

"Are you hiding your relationship from them?"

"No."

"And if they found out?"

"Let them, I couldn't care less."

"Are you that infatuation with Draco that you would risk your family over it? How very Shakespearean. You're a rebel in a unique style that's all your own." He dropped the quill on the table and moved closer to her. "In any case, as you said, it does not concern me, but soon you will come to understand that I gave you wise advice which you should have followed." He smiled and it was so very unsuiting that it almost made Ginny frown.

She thought about what he said and then slowly her lips turned into a smirk. "The one and only Severus Snape, feared and revered Potions Master, converting into guidance councillor for the young and incapable?"

"It doesn't take extra extraordinary skill to perceive what a screw up - as you youngsters say - you will become."

"Oh, you care about me? Your poor little frozen over heart is aching for me is it?" Standing very close to him she put a hand on his cheek and he sneered down at her.

"It's for the Order. I've always been of the opinion that the young ones shouldn't be told anything."

"Permit me to let you know that I don't give a flying fuck about you or your stupid Order or your side of the light or any of the bunch of crap that you and your stupid old friends preach-" He grabbed the wrist of the hand on his face.

"And let me permit you know that you are very much out of line and if I let you get away with it once-"

"Watch myself, shall I?" she stood on the tips of her toes and leaned in to his face. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought that he and Draco were nearly the same height.

"Turning over a new particularly dark leaf, young one?" he mocked.

"Not a new one, just an old one that was somewhat kept hidden." She smirked and let her breath blow at his face. She was coming closer to his lips as she licked her own and her eyes were darting over his face. Would he actually let her do it?

Suddenly she was pushed and made to bump into the closest bench. The pain in her hip flared up and like a sudden bolt of electricity it travelled to her shoulder and she bit her lip. She saw him looking at her with no mercy and absolute disgust on his face. Slut, slut, slut! And her head ached and her vision felt fog. What was happening couldn't be from a simple push... "I know what your thinking-" She feigned control until the moment of dizziness would pass her by "-of me. Just say it. Call me a slut! Call me a whore! I saw it on your face when you walked in on us! Just say it!" By the end she was screeching and he was staring at her, his mouth twisted into a sneer.

He walked over to her and grabbed her upper arm, leading her to the door of the classroom. "I don't need you here. Go back to your dormitory and sleep it off, Miss Weasley. You're making a fool of yourself."

"Let go of me!" she yelled and snatched herself from him, only then did she realise that there were tears in her eyes. What? When had she stared to cry? "Don't touch me- don't ever fucking touch!"

"Get out," he said with suppressed anger. She approached him with the same anger in her.

"Coward. You absolute horrible coward. You all are and that's why you want us to be afraid too," she said in a furious whisper and ignored the pain that shot from her left eyebrow to her ear. "You want us to be like you and to stop living and die for some idiotic cause!" She began to cough, choking on her own saliva and when he leaned a bit closer to her she pushed at him and he jumped back from her.

At that moment the door opened and Draco stood holding onto the ancient wooden door. He first looked from Severus' expression to Ginny and then came in. "What's happening? I heard yelling." His face was constructed in curiosity and suspicion. He put a hand on Ginny's back as she was leaning on the wall, after the intense fit of coughing. "You look a bit off coloured, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just started to choke," Ginny said, patting him on the arm.

"On what?" he lifted an eyebrow.

Ginny looked at him for a long moment. "Can't I bloody choke if I want!" she snapped as she pushed by him but then paused near the door, concentrating on the gap that made an escape route for the fumes for the potion making. She narrowed her eyes and put a hand to the beating at the back of her head.

Draco was holding her by the torso, trying to turn her around, asking what was wrong with her. But she was beginning to close her eyes, feeling incredibly sleepy, eyelids feeling heavy, legs giving way. She could still hear him, in a moment it was the Potions Master asking him to run to the nurse or for the purse and get help or pulp. Why would he have such an urgent need for orange juice with pulp? And why would he send Draco to get it? Can't he go down to the kitchens himself, or use his wand to conjure it?

But she was not standing anymore; her legs were tangled under her on the ground, her head on the stone floor. She could feel the coolness of the stone stinging her left ear, hear footsteps echoing loudly through the coolness of the same stone. Feel a hand on her shoulder shaking her, two fingers on her neck taking her pulse, smell sandalwood and soap.

She tried to ask about the orange juice, but nothing came out as her eyes closed. Her lips moved uselessly against the stone and swept up some of the dust on the ground.