Learning to Breathe

Learning to Breathe

So this is the way that I say I need you

So this is the way that I say I love you

So this is the way that I say I'm yours

This the way… This is the way…

That I'm learning to breathe

I'm learning to crawl

I'm finding that you and you alone can break my fall

I'm living again, awake and alive

I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies…

--Learning to Breathe by Switchfoot

"Ugh, watch where you're going, Weasel," Draco Malfoy spat as Ginny Weasley slammed into him in a flurry of red curls and freckles. Ginny picked herself up from the floor, gathering her spewed books, parchment and quills, her face flushing a deep red.

"S-sorry," she stuttered, trying her best to avoid his cold eyes. Malfoy cast her an icy glare.

"You bloody should be," he shot at her, then turned and stalked down the stairs to the dungeon, muttering something about "Riffraff" to himself as he went.

Ginny bit down hard on her lip, finally succeeding in cleaning her mess up. She hadn't even seen Draco as she was speeding around the corner, hoping that she wasn't late for Charms class. She still hadn't seen him, even when his dark figure loomed directly in front of her. She had been too focused on how she had made such a fool of herself when she spilled a full bottle of ink into Harry's lap earlier that day, which had been embarrassing enough on its own.

She peered down the narrow staircase that led to the Slytherin Dungeons, still able to see the glint of Malfoy's silvery blond hair in the dim light, wondering what in the world was making her want to go after him. A blush crept up into her cheeks as she carried on down the corridor; the thought of slamming directly into Malfoy's chiseled chest still looming in the back of her mind.

~

Draco Malfoy stalked down the stairs, seething as he brushed his robes off smoothly. He could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head as he walked away in the opposite direction, and all he wanted to do was force her stare in another direction; it was making him more uncomfortable than he'd like to admit.

A flash of red came over his eyes as he thought of her red curls, the way they whipped around as she scrambled to get up, and immediately felt bad for knocking her over in the first place. She seemed so fragile; so delicate that she might break… Stop it, he commanded himself. You're acting like a pansy! It's only Weasel Jr., so why should you care?

Questions rolled around in his mind while his steady footsteps echoed off the dreary dungeon walls, until he finally silenced the voices in his head and continued on to the Slytherin sixth year boys' dormitories.

~

Ginny sat restlessly through Charms class, constantly fidgeting with something or other. She had been twirling her quill between her thumb and index finger, until she lost control of it and nearly knocked over her ink bottle in the process. Then she began shuffling through her stacks of parchment, sorting her assignments by date. However, this apparently bothered Emily, the girl that had been seated next to her, very much, so she ceased in that and went back to tapping her quill.

She couldn't get Draco Malfoy out of her head. It was really quite funny how that one little unexpected collision had been weighing on her mind for over an hour now, especially seeing as it was nobody but Malfoy that she crashed into. It was the way his sardonic glare cut sharply into her own gaze that had infatuated her, and the way his pale skin contrasted deeply with the gray of his eyes. How his silver hair had stayed in place even as he was flying backward into the wall…

Ginny Weasley, stop it right now! she ordered herself. Quit thinking about Malfoy… He's a rude prune that nearly knocked you out and deserves none of your time, she tried to convince herself, but still, the memory of his practically expressionless face seeped into her mind, making her wonder if there was something that he was hiding behind the coldness…

"Miss Weasley!" squeaked Professor Flitwick impatiently. Ginny snapped to attention.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, already feeling her face tinge crimson as her classmates stared at her.

"For the third time, can you tell me what purpose the Fidelius Charm serves?" Ginny's face flushed even redder.

"Er… no?" she stammered, not able to recall even vaguely what the Fidelius Charm was.

"Miss Weasley, I'm disappointed, that'll be -"

"Professor Flitwick?" interrupted a voice from the door just as the teacher was about to take points from Gryffindor. Ginny let out a sigh of relief, then craned her neck to see who it could be.

Immediately, she wished she hadn't. Harry Potter stood in the door frame with a neat, tiny little roll of parchment rolled up inside his clutches. She could spot the ink stains on the front of his robes, which almost made her choke. Boy, she wasn't really having a good day, was she?

"Yes, Mr Potter?"

"I, er, was wondering if you could sign this to give me and Draco Malfoy permission to go into the Restricted Section to pick up the Studies of the Dark Charms for Advanced Charms class?" he offered out the roll of parchment. Ginny's heart jumped as Harry said the name 'Draco Malfoy'. Oy, what was with her today?

"But you and Mr Malfoy do not take that class together," Professor Flitwick countered him. Harry's face itself was beginning to turn slightly pink.

"I know, but we both have free study time for that project we were assigned tonight… And we were wondering…" Harry trailed off. Professor Flitwick gave him a bit of an odd look before beckoning him over so he could sign the slip. Harry gave Ginny a small smile as he passed her seat. She felt her mouth go dry. You're over Harry Potter, you are over him! she forced into her mind as her palms began to sweat. It was just a childhood crush. Ugh, Ginny, do not stare at his arse! Although it’s a very nice arse… GINNY! she scolded herself mentally. Flitwick signed the permission, and Harry made eye contact on the way back out, flashing her another smile - with teeth this time. Ginny found that indeed, her brain had not melted to mush, and was able to return the smile gracefully. Emily began to giggle loudly beside her; Ginny supposed Emily had thought the smile was for her. She smirked as she heard Emily turn around and whisper to a girl behind them.

"Isn't Harry Potter good looking?" she said, smiling wide. The girl, Abby Evens, nodded vigorously and giggled alongside Emily. Ginny wanted to be sick. Flitwick gave them a menacing glance, and they both snapped back to attention.

"Now, class, where were we?" he squeaked.

"The Fidelius Charm," someone piped up. Professor Flitwick opened his mouth to say something, but the ringing of the bell cut him off, signaling that the class was over. Ginny's shoulders sagged in relief as she gathered up her books, quills and ink and stuffed them into her bookbag. She walked out of the classroom without so much as a glance over her shoulder.

~

Draco strode into the library later that evening, feeling a great deal more confident than he had that very afternoon when his head had been thrown off by a few red curls and a pretty face. He was meeting Potter to research Dark Charms, though he seriously doubted that he'd need to research much on the subject. He suspected that Potter had only asked to do a project on the Dark Charms with him because he figured that Draco's family was involved with the Dark Arts, so automatically, he would be an expert. And he was right.

He could feel someone's eyes on him from across the room, but he chose to ignore the sensation and walked straight over to Potter, who was stationed at Madam Pince's desk, obviously waiting for him.

"Malfoy, you're late," he said, a bite of impatience in his voice. Draco shrugged.

"I prefer to call it… fashionably on time," he said with the usual smirk about his thin lips. There was just some joy he got out of taunting Potter, watching him struggle to come up with a good comeback.

"Hmm… Fashionable, huh?" he asked, eyeing Draco's daytime wear underneath his robes, which were just casually thrown over his shoulders, hanging open. He work a plain pair of gray trousers, just as Potter did, but had been forced to change his shirt after he collided with Weasley Jr. earlier that day, receiving ink blots from her wet quills. Unfortunately, the only shirt that he had clean in his closet was a pale-pink button up collar shirt that was designed in the same fashion as his white school shirt, but it was, well, pink. His silver Prefect's badge was lost under the black folds, but Draco had immediately noted that Potter's was standing out, pinned perfectly in place on his chest, polished and buffed. Draco frowned.

"I happen to like pink, Potter. Brings out my feminine side," he sniffed.

"You don't need a pink shirt for that, Malfoy," he heard Harry mumble. Draco's eyebrows shot up and a nasty retort was on the tip of his tongue, but Harry had already begun towards the Restricted Section. Draco sighed and followed, once again getting that eerie feeling that he was being watched. Again, he chose to ignore it, and followed Potter into the back of the library.

~

Ginny sat in the library later into the night, watching the clock. She was pretending to be working on a Potions essay whenever Madam Pince swept by, but her eyes kept drifting towards the doorway. She knew that at least Harry would be in here tonight - with or without Draco - and she wanted to apologize for the ink thing earlier today, as she couldn't find him after classes were over in the common room.

Finally, Harry entered, walking directly over to Madam Pince's desk. Ginny would've gone over to talk to him if Madam Pince hadn't already been eyeing her suspiciously. She sighed and drummed her fingers on the table, earning a stern look from the librarian, so she ceased. Harry was leaning against the desk now after talking to the old bat for a minute, appearing to be waiting for someone. Maybe he hadn't been lying; maybe he really was doing a project with Draco Malfoy. Ginny was hopeful, though she didn't know why. Draco Malfoy is a git, she told herself sternly, He is a git who doesn't deserve your time. The whole of his family are gits. In fact, he is just one big fat git, she thought to herself bitterly as she recalled slamming into him earlier in the day. The way that he had just cast her off with a glance had unnerved her, even made her feel a little detached. The thought of that itself was nauseating - the fact that she might've actually liked human contact with Draco Malfoy made her sick to the stomach.

Malfoy walked in about five minutes later, strutting as if he owned the whole castle. Ginny smirked, but watched him walk by anyhow, never lifting her gaze. He didn't notice her eyes following him, only kept his eyes on Harry, his eyebrows creased slightly, making his face look altogether too serious. His silvery blond hair flopped carelessly over his forehead, all the hair grease that had been holding it back having worn out over a day. His eyes were shadowed, giving him a look of concentration on his pale, chiseled face. His robes billowed out behind him, seeming to be made of the finest fabric, and -- was he wearing a pink shirt? She had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. That had completely ruined the sexiness of the moment, she decided.

"Malfoy, you're late," were the first words out of Harry's mouth. Draco raised his chin.

"I prefer to call it… fashionably on time," he said. Ginny could only see the side of his face, but she knew that his lips were curling into a smirk. She had never really had much contact with Draco Malfoy, but she knew that he was an unpleasant person all the same, and knew his tones of voice. She had been hanging around her older brother, Hermione, and Harry long enough to get the gist that Malfoy was a prat who thought too much of himself.

"Hmm… Fashionable, huh?" Harry said with a raised eyebrow, staring at his pink-collar shirt. Ginny grinned. Potter - one, Malfoy - zero! she mentally noted.

A few moments later, Draco replied in a sniffy voice, "I happen to like pink, Potter. Brings out my feminine side."

"You don't need a pink shirt for that, Malfoy," she heard Harry mutter as he swept around, heading for the Restricted Section in the back of the library. Ginny craned her neck around, watching them both fall into step, disappearing into the back. She sighed and turned back to her Potions essay, which she really did have to finish by the next day, trying to conjure up in her memory what a few of the key ingredients to make a Polyjuice Potion were. Her quill scratched on the rough surface of the parchment as she drafted up her essay, not really paying attention to what she was writing. She was more straining to hear what the murmurs coming from inside the restricted section were, hoping to catch a glimpse of what Harry and Malfoy were talking about.

Suddenly, there was a yell, a scuff, and a loud crash as if a whole bookshelf had been knocked over. On complete impulse, Ginny threw down her quill, jumped up, and raced into the back of the library, sprinting ahead of Madam Pince (who was making her way back as well, looking alarmed). She heard Malfoy swear loudly and colorfully, and when she skidded around the corner, what she found was an odd sight indeed: Harry was sitting on Malfoy's chest, who was lying on the ground with an immense look of frustration and pain on his face, which was now covered in strange red boils. Harry had his wand pointed at Malfoy's throat, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Malfoy, you bugger," Harry growled. Madam Pince stepped in.

"Harry Potter, I expected better of you than to be roughhousing around when a teacher lets you alone to do research," she scolded, a deep look of disappointment settling in her lined face. Harry scowled, but reluctantly got off Malfoy's chest and let him up. Malfoy rolled over and pushed himself off the ground, dusting off his robes and shooting Harry a cold look. So far, the presence of Ginny had gone unnoticed by all, so she slipped behind the bookshelf to watch secretly, just in case she were to get scolded as well for being in the Restricted Section without a pass.

"I expect the two of you to clean up all these books -" the source of the crash, Ginny thought to herself, "- put them back on the shelf in alphabetical order, then, Mr Potter, you are going to escort Mr Malfoy up to the Infirmary to get his face cured. Do I have to stay to supervise, or have you boys grown back to your maturity level yet?" both boys shook their heads, and Madam Pince left. Ginny expelled her breath slowly.

~

Draco glared at the back of Potter's head, wishing he could bat the hairs that were sticking straight up back down into place. Harry led his way around the Restricted Section as if he had been in there many times and knew precisely where to look. He probably has, Draco reminded himself, With that Invisibility Cloak he's got, he probably slithers around here for nighttime walks regularly.

"Lumos," he heard Harry mutter as they walked further and further back, the torch light dimming. The tip of his wand now lit a dim path they were following, and not much further into it, Draco drew out his own wand and mumbled the same incantation. Harry turned down a row of books. "All right, Malfoy, look around here. This is the Dark Charms section, I think. Pull out any book you might think is useful, and no screwing around," he ordered, eyeing him suspiciously. Draco put on an innocent face.

"What? Are you expecting me just to raise my wand and perform a spell to make these books all start tap-dancing about?" Draco asked lazily. "'Cause it sounds like a bit of fun, if you ask me…" Harry gave him a warning look, then disappeared out of sight. "What a ninny," Draco muttered to himself, then began searching took titles. Many of the books were old and looking as though they'd had it. An ominous feeling seemed to be leaking from within the bindings of each of the books, but it was nowhere near the forbidding he usually got when he entered his father's private library. There were some odd titles -- things such as How to Set Your Neighbor's Hair on Fire in Three Easy Charms! or The Toad -- Diabolical and Demonic? Draco nearly laughed out loud at this one, but restrained his laughter; he didn't feel like getting told off by Potter again.

He crossed several more silly titles, then began to step into the straggling Love Spells section. Immediately, he thought of Ginny Weasley. He didn't know why, but her flaming curls and her blushing tones reminded him of a Love Potion. There were a few quite illegal sounding titles amongst these books too, but some intrigued him. So you want her… Seven Simple Steps to Making Her Yours, was one he nearly picked up, but then thought better of it as he had no woman in particular to make his. Besides that, he thought airily, I could get any woman without the aide of a Love Potion. A small smile curled on his lips. Maybe Potter could use with checking one of these books out… Might do him some good to get laid. He might not be so uptight…

"Malfoy!" Harry's sharp tone cut into his thoughts. Draco twirled around, not even realizing how far he had strayed from the Dark Charms section into the Love Spells.

"Hello, Potter," he drawled coolly. "I was just reading up on Love Potions for you… Thought it might do you some good to get laid sometime, you know, to loosen up a little…" he smirked. Even in the dim light, he could see Harry's face flushing.

"We're not researching one hundred and one ways to get fucked, Malfoy, we're supposed to be doing a project on the Dark Charms," he glared.

"Of course," Draco carried on, ignoring Harry completely, "you wouldn't really have much of a choice… You're no sex idol or anything, but I think you just might be able to get into Granger's pants… Yes, I'd say she's easy. It's either her or Girl Weasley -" but Draco didn't get to finish that sentence as Harry had whipped out his wand and fired the Furnunculus hex at him. Catching him off-guard, he then tackled Draco to the ground, sat on his chest so he couldn't move and could barely breathe, and pointed his wand at his throat. Oddly painful hot, red boils were popping up over Draco's face, and for some twisted reason, this made him smile.

"Don't you ever, EVER talk about Hermione and Ginny that way. EVER," Harry hissed in a voice so low and so menacing, that even Draco felt a twinge of a shiver crawl up his back. Harry jabbed his wand further into Draco's windpipe, looking absolutely furious. An even bigger more stupid smile crept onto Draco's lips as he just managed to choke out, "The Furnunculus hex, Potter? You'd think you, of all people, could come up with something a little more life-threatening - let alone painful - with all the training they've got you on to face the Dark Lord."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"How did you know about that?" he proceeded to lean harder on Draco's chest, almost completely cutting off his air. But Draco showed no pain, no emotion, just as he had been taught.

"Everyone knows, Potter," he struggled to get loose, but knocked the bookshelf with his thrashing arm and heard an immense crack in his wrist as it was knocked back. The bookshelf, which obviously wasn't very stable, rocked back and forth with the force ensued on his breaking wrist and a few books tumbled down around them, crashing loudly. Malfoy swore in vain, trying not to let Potter see that he was hurting him, as he wouldn't get off his chest. He could hear someone coming, but could not see their feet. He hoped that it was Madam Pince, and that Potter would get in a great lot of trouble for this.

"Malfoy, you bugger," Harry said in a grisly voice. Just then, however, Madam Pince rushed up to them.

"Harry Potter, I expected better of you than to be roughhousing around when a teacher lets you alone to do research," she scolded immediately. Draco wouldn't have admitted it, but he was very glad she was here, as there seemed to be no way of getting Potter off of him. He made a mental note never to insult Ginny Weasley or Granger again in that way. With one last hateful look, Harry got off of Draco's chest to let him up. Draco sucked in a long wheeze of air once he was up, cradling his wrist. Madam Pince hadn't seemed to notice the odd angle it was dangling at, and he was glad; he might've been sent to the Infirmary like a baby to have it fixed by the Matron.

"I expect the two of you to clean up all these books and put them back on the shelf in alphabetical order, then, Mr Potter, you are going to escort Mr Malfoy up to the Infirmary to get his face cured. Do I have to stay to supervise, or have you boys grown back to your maturity level yet?" she narrowed her beady eyes. Both shook their heads. Draco didn't trust himself to open his mouth, as it would most likely come out as a colorful string of swear words, his wrist was sending that much pain up his arm. He figured it was a fairly bad break, but still grudgingly helped Potter clean up the books with his one good hand. Of course, he had been in much worse pain in his life, and just thinking of that numbed his wrist slightly and made the throbbing of the boils go down.

He picked up a large book entitled The Complete Book of Love Spells -- What to do when You Have No Chance and slammed it down on the shelf angrily, making a loud clattering noise as several smaller books fell off in place. There was also a high-pitched squealing emitted, but it didn't sound as though it had come from any book - it sounded like there might've been a human on the other side of that bookshelf. Draco peered curiously through the gaps between the books, but could not spot anything. Still, his curiosity (and suspicion) got the better of him, and he crept around, clutching his wand and jumping out on anyone who might've been there. And there was. A small, redheaded girl was nursing several purple-looking fingers, a look of travail and surprise on her freckled face. Draco immediately recognized her to be Ginny Weasley.

~

Ginny watched the two boys clean up their mess in a tense silence. She noticed that Malfoy seemed to be cradling his right wrist, only operating with his left hand. She wondered vaguely if Harry had hurt it in any way, then decided that she didn't care, as it was Malfoy, and the if Harry had, good on him.

She stood on her tiptoes to get a better look, clutching on to the edge of the shelf with her fingers. When she found that she couldn't quite see right, she looked down, seeing if there was something she could stand on, but there was nothing. In the midst of searching, Ginny suddenly felt a pain shoot through her fingers as something heavy was slammed on top of them angrily. She made a high-pitched squeaking noise, trying to hold back the scream her throat wanted to release. Several books clattered to the ground opposite her, and she quietly drew her fingers out from under the thick one, hoping that the smaller books were enough to distract them so she could sneak out.

Nursing her fingers, she bent down and began to walk out, but found that Draco Malfoy was soon blocking her way. He had obviously heard her cry, and jumped around suspiciously. Once again, she cried out, stumbling back a few steps. Malfoy wore a look of shock, and straightened up.

"Weasel?" he asked throatily. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he narrowed his eyes. Ginny racked her brain for something plausible, but could come up with nothing good so decided to tell the truth.

"Well, I, er… That is to say… I was working in the library when I heard a crash, so I came to see if Harry was all right, but Madam Pince was already here… So I turned to go back, but I stumbled across this book and it was just so fascinating that I couldn't lift my eyes…" she reached blindly behind her and pulled out the first book on the shelf, showing Malfoy the cover. He arched his eyebrow.

"Four Hundred and Thirty-Five uses for Jarvey's Tail?" he asked. Ginny squeaked and flipped the book over, seeing that indeed, that was the title.

"Yes… I like to have a variety in mind whenever I'm using Jarvey's tail," she managed, then placed the book back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Potions essay to finish before tomorrow. Good evening, Malfoy," she said finally, then swept past him. She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked away, ducked out of the Restricted Section, then gathered up her things and left the library.

She walked steadily back up to the Gryffindor tower, trying not to think of the way his storm gray eyes cut into her, or the small smirk that usually hung around the corners of his mouth that was so damn sexy… She attempted to push thoughts of handsome face out of her mind, but found that she was quite unable.

"Fingered toast," she muttered distractedly to the Fat Lady, finding that her feet had carried her all the way up to the tower without her even noticing. The Fat Lady swung forward, merrily chirping something as Ginny climbed through the portrait hole, but she took no notice and fell into the common room. She dazedly made her way up to her dorm, where she collapsed on the bed with thoughts of Draco Malfoy swirling around in her head.

~

After they had finished cleaning, Potter brought him upstairs to the Infirmary to have his boils and his wrist looked at. Neither spoke a word to the opposite, and Draco liked it that way. Occasionally, he would sneak a glance over at Potter, who still looked absolutely abhorred, his dark brow settled in a creased fashion, and his green eyes flashing behind his glasses. He kept his eyes locked straight ahead. Draco thought of what his father had told him a few years ago.

"Draco, you must learn to keep your eyes on the target, keep eye contact, and never drift off. You show your weakness when you show the back of your head." were his words, and Harry's expression reminded him of that day. They reached the Infirmary, and still, Harry refused to look at him. It's not as though I wanted to look at your ugly face, Draco thought in Harry's direction bitterly.

"Oh, for God's sake, Potter, what did you do now?" Madam Pomfrey cried as soon as he entered the room.

"It's not me, Madam, it's him," he refused to even say Draco's name, and pointed a finger at him instead. Draco made a face.

"Yes, Potter hit me with the Furnunculus hex, and I, er, fell over as I wasn't expecting it and cracked my wrist on the way down," Draco lied only slightly. He didn't really want to have points taken away from his house if someone knew that he had been fighting, too. Madam Pomfrey turned on Harry.

"Was it provoked?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. Harry nodded.

"Very much so, Madam."

"Then I suggest you go talk to your Head of House before this looses you too many points. Come back and see me afterwards. Madam Pince told me in advance that the two of you were coming, Potter, and I believe I have some bedpans you can clean. Apparently it was quite the mess you made there, and quite the position you were in… She felt it necessary to issue a detention immediately. You may go to see Professor McGonagall now, Mr Potter. Thank you for escorting Mr Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey snipped, then turned back to Draco. "As for you, I don't know why you insist on going around, causing trouble like that, but let's get you cleaned up here," she bustled into her office and emerged carrying some supplies. Draco stood in the middle of the room, not moving. He despised being cosseted by anyone. His father had always taught him to take the pain and to let wounds heal themselves; that using magic to mend a broken bone was for the weak.

"Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Come sit on the bed and let me mend you up," she patted the covers of the bed she was standing beside. "What are you worried about? I won't bite," she chuckled at her own joke, the turned and straightened out the curtain. Draco trudged over and sat on the bed, scowling. Madam Pomfrey gave him a glance over.

"This seems to be a fairly powerful Furnunculus hex… You're going to have to take your shirt off, boy," she quipped, eyeing his chest. Draco shuddered inwardly, feeling as though he needn't actually remove his shirt, and that she only wanted to see his bare chest. He held out his wrist and grimaced as she tapped it in four places, feeling the bone meld together again. She then wrapped it in a soft, gauzy tissue and taped it up.

"Now, that's going to have to heal for the night - it was a pretty bad break. You'll stay here in the Hospital Wing and Potter can bring you some bedclothes. As for this curse…" she trailed off, waved her wand and muttered what was obviously the counter-curse then watched each one of the boils explode. It was extremely painful as oozes of pus seeped out of each one, but the mountains went down and soon, little red dots all over was all that replaced the large boils that had once been there. He checked over his back and his front -- all smooth. The red dots were now disappearing, too. Madam Pomfrey smiled at her own handiwork, then forced him inside of the sheets.

"All right, I'll get Potter to bring you some extra bedclothes whenever he gets back," she said then shuffled back into her office. Draco was the sole occupant of the Hospital wing that night, and settled back into the soft cloth of his bed. He had the bed beside the window, so he was able to gaze out over the grounds in thought. It was a clear night, and the moon shone down, lighting up the grounds. Owls and other night birds swooped about, hunting for their prey.

Draco thought about Ginny Weasley. He couldn't get her out of his head. When he had found her after he had crushed her fingers, he knew that there was more to that story than she was willing to tell. Her bright spirals of golden red hair intrigued his mind, and her freckles gave her a cute quality that he had never noticed before. He was letting his mind become a little more lax about thinking of her, as he was too tired to put up much of a fight. A weak part of his mind told him that it was wrong to think about a Weasley like this, but he shut it up pretty fast.

He leaned his head against the pillow, pulling the covers down to his waist. It was amazingly hot and stuffy inside the room, and the draft from the window felt good on his bare chest. He could feel his brain cramping up with confused thoughts, but eventually he just pushed them all away and let the face of Ginny Weasley be the only thing that he could see.

~

Ginny crept down the corridor then raced up the stairs. She got a huge thrill out of going for nighttime walks; after all, she didn't even own an Invisibility Cloak, and she had never gotten caught once. Usually, she just let her feet take her wherever they wanted within the castle walls, and she had an inept ability to stay out of Filch's way. It was wonderful, following her feet and not her brain; this was an activity she liked to do at least twice a month. She could clear her mind of all thought and wander around for hours, always winding up back at the Gryffindor tower.

Today, however, she found that her subconscious had brought her somewhere totally different. She found herself walking directly into the Hospital Wing, her slippers padding softly on the ground. She wasn't even aware of walking in, only knew that she was there once she was there. The room appeared to be almost empty, spare one bed on the far side beside the window. She could see a figure sitting propped up in its bed, gazing longingly outside. It was Draco Malfoy.

The silver strands of his hair were unmistakable anywhere. His niveous skin of his chest was fully exposed as it was deprived of any sort of shirt. Ginny couldn't help but stare. She had always thought him to be the scrony type, but obviously, she had been wrong. Robes hide far too much, she decided, ogling just a little longer. There was fine muscle definition in his upper chest, his arms, and his abdominal area. The moonlight illuminated his pale skin, making it look a milky white. She found herself walking closer, trying to be as silent as possible. Something was drawing her to him; she wasn't sure if it was purely physical attraction, or if there was something else that she was being sucked in by…

His head snapped around, his stone gray eyes finding her. She had caught his mouth in a solemn straight line for once, but almost immediately, it curled at the edges.

"Well, well, well," he said softly, "what have we got here?" Ginny raised her chin but said nothing. "Were you… spying on me, Weasley? Is that it? Couldn't resist my fine body? Just had to get another eyeful?" here, she snorted. Yes, that was true, but with the pompous air he said it, she was able to deny it.

"No, Malfoy. I came because I seem to be developing a bit of a Wizard's cold. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find Madam Pomfrey to -"

"She's out of the room right now, finding Potter," Malfoy drawled, leaning back into his pillows.

"Oh," was all Ginny could think to say. She sat on a bed beside Draco's, facing him. "I suppose I'll just wait, then."

"Good plan," he said simply. What was this? No snappy retort? No witty comeback? Ginny wondered if there was something wrong with him. There was thick silence between them, and Draco went back to looking out the window. Ginny wondered what there was that was so interesting to look at out there. She voiced this, and in reply, she got, "None of your concern," he snapped, not looking away. Ginny decided not to pursue this further.

She drew her legs up onto the mattress, hugging her knees and resting her chin atop them. She figured that Malfoy was well aware of her staring at him, but he obviously chose not to take any notice. She watched his chest rise up and down evenly, falling with the expulsion of every breath. Something inside of her wanted to feel the texture of his milky skin, to wind a thin strand of his silky hair around her finger, to feel what he was really like. Right now, sitting vulnerable as he was, he looked like any other human in the world, like he wasn't a nasty git.

The splint of bandages around his wrist told her that Madam Pomfrey had mended whatever he had done to his wrist in the Restricted section. Other than that, nothing appeared to be wrong with him. She willed herself to look away, but somehow, she couldn't draw her eyes from him...

~

He could feel her eyes on him, burning a hole into his flesh. He didn't mind, though. In fact, he wanted her to look - to get her mind's worth. He wanted her to see him -- to really see him for who he was, and not for his father. He needed rescuing, and soon. He was drowning, being pulled under by his father fast, and Ginny Weasley seemed willing to help, if only she knew how.

Of course, the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt couldn't have been too hard on her eyes, either.

Moonlight tumbled in through the small window beside him, and he continued to stare outside. His answer previous - "None of your concern" - was something he thought would've provoked her to question him; for he had no real answer to that question, as he wasn't actually staring at anything. He wasn't looking at the lake, or the forest, or even the birds circling overhead. He wasn't staring at the treetops, and he wasn't looking at the speckled sky. He was just staring. He was still perfectly aware of her gaze, and he almost wished it to stay there.

Almost.

This is Ginny Weasley, he kept repeating to himself. You didn't even know her first name for some while, and now suddenly, she's attracting your attention? Come on, Draco. Learn to control your hormones! he snapped at himself. Suddenly, that side of his brain was dominate again, and he felt as though he had been spiraling downwards on a broomstick, doomed to crash, then had regained control over it at the last minute.

The smirk curled on his lips once again.

~

He shifted on the bed, the mattress letting out a low creak. She didn't move. She didn't flinch. He continued to stare outside, turning his head even further so she couldn't even catch a glimpse of the side of his face. Ginny wanted to crack open his head and crawl inside to see what really made Draco Malfoy run. Right now, he seemed so mellow, so lost, so... human. Other times he came off as rude, sarcastic, and dark-witted; someone who was sure to develop a fine career as a Death Eater.

She stretched out one long leg, followed by the other slowly, then got up and crept languidly towards his bed, clambering onto the mattress beside him and resuming her position of hugging her own knees. He didn't seem to mind her moving onto his bed; in fact, he barely appeared to have noticed. His face stayed turned away from her as he continued to gaze outside. This was driving Ginny insane; being torn between the two sides Malfoy had showed her. She wished that he would look at her, show some sign that he noted her presence. But there was none.

Finally, after some while, he turned his head. Immediately, she wished he hadn't; he was sporting his trademark smirk.

"Weasley," he breathed softly, "do you realize that you're sitting on my bed?"

Ginny nodded uncomfortably. "Yes. So? The other one had a hard mattress," she lied, stretching out her legs.

"There's more than one bed in the Infirmary," he pointed out.

"You looked lonely."

"I don't need to be babied, Weasley. I'm here for another five minutes until Potter brings me some bloody clothes and then I'm back off to the Slytherin Dungeon." Ginny shrugged.

"It's a free country," she tried immaturely. Malfoy appeared to have nothing to say to that, only glared at her. His gray eyes had slicked into ice, now looking cool and smooth. He raised an eyebrow.

"Depends how you look at that," he said, then turned to let her ponder the statement.

~

"Depends on how you look at that," he said, turning away. He loved this feeling of being in control and knowing that he was confusing Ginny's emotions. He knew that she was conflicted between her family, Harry, and him. He knew that he was intriguing her. And he loved every moment of it.

Who would've thought one little collision in the corridor earlier that day would've brought them to be up here sitting together like this? he thought. You know, she really is sort of pretty... He sneaked a side-glance, but noticed that she was looking at him, blushing furiously, so he turned away immediately. Ugh, why do girls have to blush anyway? he wondered.

"Malfoy," came her soft voice. Draco grimaced in hearing his surname being used.

"What?" he snapped.

"How did you hurt your wrist?"

"Why should you give a damn?" she shrugged, looking almost indifferent.

"Just curious. It's cold in here," she mused, hugging herself tighter. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Consider what you're wearing before you go sneaking around a drafty castle at night, Weasley," he nodded at her thin nightshirt only cloaked by a tattered looking maroon bathrobe. She said nothing in reply to this, and he was glad. Her speaking was throwing his thoughts off a little, drawing him in closer to her. He had almost offered her some blankets, but decided against it at the last minute.

~

Ginny frowned, glaring at him. Had he been implying that she was dressed in an inappropriate manner? She always wore her dressing gown loose around a nightshirt at home, why couldn't she do it here? He was really beginning to irritate her, and she considered leaving, but something held her back. There was really no point in staying here, and Malfoy had mentioned something about Harry coming back with clothes for him... What would Harry do if he caught Ginny sitting on Malfoy's bed? That would be an interesting predicament. Perhaps he would tell Ron, and Ron would go absolutely ballistic. She enjoyed provoking Ron at times, being the bratty little sister that she was. She especially enjoyed it because it drew attention to her and seeing as she was the youngest, she didn't usually get much of that. She smiled to herself.

Malfoy shifted once again, sitting up further and casting a little bit of blanket in her direction. Ginny wasn't sure if this was consciously or not, but she didn't really care, only took the corner gratefully and stuffed her frozen bare feet underneath it.

She wanted to leave, but she wanted to stay all the same, just to be discovered by Harry, who was guaranteed to tell Ron. So she stayed, and went back to looking at Malfoy without him knowing. It really was a wonder he didn't have a girlfriend in Slytherin, as he was quite suited to one. He was certainly good looking enough, and if the bite of sarcasm was welcomed within the Slytherin dungeons, then he might as well have been considered the bachelor of the year down there.

A lock of her hair burst from the single pin that was holding it back loosely, and tumbled into her face. Annoyed, Ginny brushed it away, and when she brought her hand back down to her side, it briefly brushed on Malfoy's cold skin. She shuddered as it sent a shot of ice up her arm. He tensed, looking at her with his icy gray eyes.

~

He watched a piece of the flaming red coils fall into her face from its loose bun in the back of her head, and she impatiently batted it away. As she was bringing her hand back down, her fingertips gently brushed his arm. Her skin was so warm against his; it sent a hot rush through him. It even aroused him a little to know that he had a girl sitting beside him on a bed, and she had touched him -- not in anywhere private, mind, but it was a step toward. He felt her shudder beside him and wondered if his skin was really that cold to make her shiver.

He rounded his gaze back on her again as she peered at him with her large chocolate brown eyes, pouring into him. She seemed so innocent, so willing... She could help him, he realized, if only he would let her.

He noticed his breathing had become slightly irregular and sharp, and forced it to fall back into pattern. It wouldn't. Damnit, Draco, he thought, Don't let yourself fall apart for a Weasley... Father will never forgive you, not in a million years...

But he couldn't help it; the moment his skin had touched hers, he had known. He didn't care about his father anymore. He had wanted escape since he was five years old and Lucius had begun to beat him, and here was escape, dancing just inches from his face.

Their gazes were locked for the longest time, before she looked down at her squirming hands.

"Draco, I..." she had called him by his first name. No one did that -- no one but his own father and mother. That was it for him. Before he knew just what he was doing, his lips were on hers in a neat, closed-mouth kiss. He grasped her shoulders, sucking in a deep breath through his nose, then released her. She was rigid in shock. He raised his chin defiantly, waiting for her reaction. Suddenly, her face melted and she threw herself on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips back to his, practically wrestling him down. He tried not to take it with surprise, but he really had not anticipated this of a reaction.

He rested his hands on her hips, moving them up and down slowly rubbing. She entwined her fingers in his hair, pressing her lips harder down.

~

Their gazes were locked and she couldn't pull away. His iciness was so enveloping; she never wanted to leave his haven. But finally, she could, and was able to look down at her hands in her lap, squirming uncomfortably. She didn't care anymore... She was beginning to feel as though she wanted to be involved for herself now, not just to irk Ron. This scared the living hell out of her. She had to leave before she would do anything that she might regret later...

"Draco, I..." she began to say, but trailed off, as he was looking at her oddly. Suddenly, he was kissing her. This was something she had not expected in the least as he grasped her shoulders, ending the kiss neatly. She was stiff, scared, and absolutely mindless. Her brain spun around as it tried to grab a hold of reality. Had Draco Malfoy just kissed her? Something confirmed this for her, and she lost control.

He looked expectant as if he were waiting for something. She only knew of one thing to do: she flung herself at him, wanting him so badly it hurt. Her lips made contact with his once more and she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. She knew that he hadn't seen this coming, but relaxed into the kiss right away, putting his hands on her hips right away. They were in an awkward sort of position, so he held her waist and directed it underneath him making it so she was now tilted upwards towards him, he being the dominate figure.

She had never kissed anyone before, she realized, and began to panic. She didn't know what to do next... Just don't think, she remembered Hermione telling her late one night as they were sitting by the common room fire talking about boys and such. You'll know what to do when it's appropriate, believe me, was Hermione's advice. Ginny took it, and let her mind go blissfully blank.

~

He slid his hands upwards, creeping up her back and tracing her spine lightly. She had opened her mouth under his, and in response, he copied the action and slid his tongue downward into her mouth, exploring a bit. A deep moan came from the back of her throat, and Draco felt a sense of power, having been the one to cause that. She moaned again, shifting under his weight. She didn't seem to mind that he was taking the kiss a bit further as he let his hands wander up under the back of her nightshirt onto the bare skin of her back. It felt so smooth and creamy...

She pulled him closer, her lips gliding over his glossily. He tried to mix up his kisses, leading her astray as he planted tiny kisses at the corners of her mouth. He knew this was only tempting her for more as she pulled at his hair desperately. This itself was painful, but he didn't care. She tasted so wonderful, he could barely think of anything else in the world...

He slipped his hands out from under her nightshirt and let them roam around her front, feeling every curve of her body. This, too, caused a great deal of groaning on her part, and he smiled through the kiss. He suspected that she had never even kissed a guy properly, let alone this, and felt another sense of domination.

~

His hands were like ice on her skin as they slid up and down her back lightly. Ginny was very much enjoying this sensation as he kissed her deeply, needingly. The way he let her linger between kisses drove her insane, so she drew him closer, kissing him harder and pulling at him. She could feel his hands on her front now, groping her gently. It was one of the oddest titillations she had ever experienced, but made her feel lightheaded and woozy. She no longer cared where his hands went, only that he held her and continued to kiss her.

His lips moved off of hers, sliding down and planting butterfly kisses along her jaw, onto her neck. He traced a line down her skin with the tip of his tongue, gliding it across her collarbones once he reached. She tilted her head backward in response, arching her back. They were now lying down, Draco on top of her, cradling her, getting lost in the tangle of sheets. She moaned once more as he slowly, agonizingly brought his lips back to hers and refused to slip back into the previous passion and need, only giving her repeated light, soft, small kisses. She opened her eyes and found that his were open, too, as he slipped off her dressing gown for her and began fiddling with the buttons to her nightshirt. She didn't mind this one bit - in fact, she wanted to be rid of the thing, to show off her body to him. After all, it seemed only fair as he was down to his black silk boxers.

"Draco," she gasped in between kisses. "I don't know why I'm doing this..."

"I don't either," was his reply as worked on the last few buttons. He lowered his mouth to hers, once again opening her mouth, slipping his tongue inside. Oh God, she wanted him. His fingers stopped working on the buttons, and traveled down to her thigh where he traced small circles lightly on her skin. This sent shivers up her spine. She wanted him -- bad.

~

She was driving him crazy with her expertise, and her uncontrollable whines. He hoped that his black silk boxers - being the only thing he was dressed in as he was waiting for Potter to bring him some bedclothes - covered everything that might've become a little obvious within the last few minutes.

He had succeeded in undoing her nightshirt, but wasn't certain where to go from there. Well, he knew what to do; he just wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to do it. Would this be taking advantage of someone? After all, she was only fifteen, and he was merely sixteen. Even though it didn't seem like it at the moment, they were still so young...

He had to stop, had to pull away before he did anything stupid. But he couldn't. He could only kiss her, feel her touch, feel her body... God, he wanted her. But he couldn't have her. She was still out of reach to him.

He didn't even hear the footsteps enter the room, he was so wrapped up within her. But something - someone - cleared their throat, loudly. Draco jerked up and jumped off of Ginny. He squinted in the dim moonlight, and saw Potter standing there, clutching what appeared to be his black silk pajamas, and absolutely seething. Draco was aware of Ginny scrambling beside him to cover herself up, buttoning up her nightshirt and pulling her bathrobe securely around her, tying up the waist tightly. Harry was looking at him furiously. Draco tilted back, leaning against a bedpost at the foot of the mattress. Ginny tentatively sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, looking down at the floor.

"Malfoy," Harry's voice was coming out in nothing higher than a deathly whisper. Even though he wouldn't have admitted it, Draco thought that Harry looked a little scary right now. "What the bloody fucking hell do you think you're doing?" he cursed colorfully. Draco shrugged.

"Snogging your best friend's little sister. What does it look like I'm doing? Having high tea with the Queen?" he retorted snidely. Harry's jaw clenched. Ginny got up, moving slowly towards Harry as if he were a bomb likely to explode at any second. Which, Draco reminded himself, he probably is...

"Harry, I -"

"Go, Ginny," Harry cut her off before she could explain.

"But Harry -"

"GO!" he yelled furiously. Draco could see Ginny's eyes fill as she fled from the wing and back towards the Gryffindor tower.

"Well, Potter, what are you going to do? Are you going to use Furnunculus on me again? Are you going to hex me? Are you going to put an Unforgivable on me, 'cause God knows you can by know, and I've probably got you mad enough that you will..." Harry shook his head calmly to each one of these.

"No, Malfoy. I'm not going to do anything to you," he said in a voice so smooth, so placidly calm, Draco wanted to jump up and hide. He knew what Potter was capable of, now that he was up against the Dark Lord, and didn't really wish to be the one on the receiving end of it.

"You're not?" said Draco in a half-mock, half-surprise tone.

"No, I'm not. I just don't ever want to see you again. In my life. Ever. I feel that if I ever see your face again, I will have to curse it into a million pieces and step on them all." He turned and walked out of the room, probably to go find Ginny, and as an afterthought over his shoulder, he said, "Oh, and by the way, nice boxers, Malfoy. They match the pajamas."

~

Ginny fumbled with her buttons as she attempted to do them up, sprinting along the corridors. She skittered around the corners, wrapping the bathrobe securely around her midsection, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Harry was going to kill her - absolutely murder her. And when he was done with that, Ron and her other brothers - all six of them, probably - would have a go. Then perhaps her parents might join in the fun of killing Ginny Weasley. Oh God, oh God, oh God, she kept repeating over in her head. What have I done?

She fell through the portrait hole into the common room, sobbing hysterically. She could barely notice Hermione sitting up as the sole occupant of the common room, completing her homework. But she was there, and as soon as she noticed Ginny stumble in, she rushed to her aide.

"Ginny? Oh, Ginny! What's wrong?" she helped Ginny up, giving her a comforting hug. Ginny cried into her shoulder, trying to regain her breath.

"I - I… I…" she couldn't say it; she couldn't choke it out between her sobs.

"Shh…" Hermione soothed, rubbing her back. "Come here, let's sit down…" They sat on a particularly large armchair together, Hermione embracing Ginny like a sister and trying to alleviate her. Ginny cried into Hermione's robes for another few minutes, eventually drying her tears and managing to meet Hermione's gaze. "Now," Hermione began patiently, "can you tell me what's wrong?" Ginny sniffled.

"Yes…" she drew in a deep breath. "I kissed Malfoy." She said this extremely fast, then averted her eyes and bit her lip hard. Ginny dared to sneak a peak at Hermione, and found that she seemed to be in shock. She couldn't tell whether it was angry or simply disbelieving, but it was most certainly shock; her face had gone rigid and her muscles had tensed up. Hermione cleared her throat.

"You what?" she spluttered. Ginny winced; this wasn't making her feel especially proud of her actions.

"I… I kissed Malfoy," she gulped. Hermione's facial expression softened slightly.

"Oh… Oh, Gin," she pulled the younger girl into another tight hug. "Why are you so upset? If it was just one innocent little kiss…" Ginny gulped again.

"Well… You see, we kissed," she emphasized the word 'Kissed', a look of guilt washing over her reddening face. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Ginny… He didn't… You didn't… I mean, he didn't pressure you into anything…" Ginny shook her head, her curls bouncing fiercely.

"No, no, no… We only kissed," she let a dreamy look overcome her face at this point, "boy… Did we kiss…" Hermione smacked her lightly on the shoulder.

"Ginny!" she said, giggling. Her face soon fell serious again. "But if you kissed, and, well, obviously you liked it -" she shuddered, obviously thinking of kissing Malfoy herself, "- then why are you so upset? I mean, besides the fact that it happened to be Malfoy that you were snogging." Ginny, too, let a somber look set in, choosing to ignore that last remark.

"Well… We were on a bed in the Infirmary kissing - don't even ask why we were in the Infirmary -" she added at the look on Hermione's face, "and, well… Harry walked in," she said simply, but Hermione knew immediately what she meant. Ginny could feel her eyes becoming wet again at the thought of Harry's furious face, his glowing eyes…

"Ginny…" Hermione said softly, hugging her again. Ginny cried softly into Hermione's shoulder, recalling everything that had occurred in this one strange day, beginning with the collision with the bouncing ferret himself. "I'm sure it'll be all right… Don't worry… I know, Harry can get pretty angry sometimes, with all the stress he's under, but he's not going to hurt you. If you just talk to him when he cools off… I'm sure he'll understand," Ginny snapped her head up.

"But he's going to tell Ron, and Ron is going to kill me!" she cried desperately, slumping off the chair and onto the floor. Hermione shook her head.

"No, he's not. Ginny, you just have to be patient with them and wait until the time is right to tell them… I know Ron has a bit of a temper sometimes, but he's your brother, Gin, and he's not going to kill you, for God's sake. I mean, considering it was Malfoy that you snogged, you might find bits of Malfoy-entrails all over the school, but otherwise, I'm sure you'll be fine," she smiled despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Thanks, Hermione. You're a really good friend…" they hugged yet again. "But I just feel so shaken right now…" Hermione nodded understandingly.

"I know you do, and you should feel that way… But things will sort themselves out, and I'm sure everything will go back to the way it was before," she said confidently. But what if I don't want it to? Ginny pondered, staring at the flames licking the wood inside the grate nearby. They sat silently for awhile, Hermione's presence comforting Ginny somewhat.

"So…" Hermione's voice interrupted the silence. "Is Malfoy a good kisser?" she said, obviously suppressing laughter. Ginny spluttered.

"What?" she demanded. "What makes you think I would tell you that?" she added, glaring straight ahead at the fire. Hermione shrugged.

"Just wondering…" The portrait swung open then, and someone ambled in through the hole, landing gracefully on their feet with a swoosh of their robes. Ginny looked up to see Harry glaring back at her. She gulped and shrunk down. Hermione cleared her throat and gave Harry a harsh look.

"Oh. Hello Hermione," Harry said in a friendly manner, then turned and looked at Ginny, saying nothing. Ginny could feel the tears stinging the corners of her eyes as he gave her a cold look.

"Harry Potter, don't," Hermione warned, eyeing Ginny. "Do not start to act like Ron. Ginny isn't a baby, Harry, she can take care of herself."

"Well, if you had seen the scene I walked in on, I'm sure you'd want to rip Malfoy limb from limb as well," Harry was speaking to Hermione, but looking directly at Ginny. She could feel her face grow hot and the tears leaking.

"Harry, I -"

"I think I've heard enough from you tonight," Harry silenced her. Ginny bit her lip as it began to tremble. Hermione steamed beside her, standing upright.

"Harry! You are acting like an unfair prat! Let her at least get a word in edgewise; maybe you could even let her explain, if she wanted to…"

"I'm sure she doesn't," said Harry, sounding bored. "Her actions seemed to explain themselves."

"Argh!" Hermione yelled in frustration. "Well, I'm sure that it's nothing you haven't done before, Harry! Ginny's love life is no concern of yours, or mine, for that matter, so I don't see why you're getting so worked up about it!" she collapsed on the chair once again. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I'm getting worked up? And what do you mean, 'nothing that I haven't done before'?" Harry asked skeptically.

"You know what I mean," Hermione said coldly. Harry shrugged, not saying anything. Ginny cleared her throat.

"I hate to break up this little argument, but can I just say something?" Harry raised his eyebrows, as if signaling - daring - her to go on. "I'd just like to state that I'm really very sorry for disappointing you, Harry. I know that Malfoy isn't exactly your best mate in the world, but there are some things that people don't see in him… You have to dig a little deeper and he's really not that bad of a guy…"

"So what were you doing snogging him in the middle of the night on an Infirmary bed?" Harry asked.

"Long story," Ginny sighed.

"I have all night."

"All right, let me restate that -- long, private story," she said sharply. Harry eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing in return to that statement. Instead, he flopped down on a large overstuffed armchair facing her and Hermione, looking expectant. Ginny sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch, still in his direction. She looked down at her dangling feet instead of meeting his harsh glare and mumbled something inaudibly about her love life being none of his business, quoting directly from Hermione. Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"None of my business, eh?" he said quietly. "Ginny, look at me, will you?" he asked calmly. Ginny forced herself to look up, and found that his gaze had softened slightly. He sighed deeply, twirling his wand around his fingers. "Ginny, it is my business, you see, because I care for you. I don't want you to be hurt by some stupid prat like Malfoy who can't even tie his shoes properly without some magical assistance. You've got it right when you said that Malfoy and I aren't the best mates in the world, and it's for a reason, Gin. I don't trust him -- since fourth year when Voldemort - (Ginny flinched at the name) - was resurrected and he practically told me that he was on the dark side. Despite what you say I haven't seen a fleck of evidence that Malfoy has even the tiniest bit of good in him. Please, Ginny, you just have to understand that he's not someone to be messing around with… You could get yourself seriously hurt - emotionally or physically - and I would blame myself if that ever happened," he finished with a long drawn out breath. Ginny again felt the prickle of tears in her eyes, but this time it was from pure emotion and being touched like this; she had never thought Harry cared about her that much, that she was only 'Ron's silly younger sister with an enormous crush on him' in his point of view.

"Harry… I… I don't know what to say, really…" she stuttered. Harry smiled and walked over, hugging her gently.

"It's okay, Ginny. Don't say anything. I just want you to know that I do trust you, but I hoped you would've had better taste than to go for someone like Malfoy…" he kissed her cheek. "Now, get some rest. We'll finish this conversation in the morning if we have to."

*

Ginny woke up to a loud squealing on a cold, sunny Saturday the next morning. Sunlight streamed in through the small windows in her dorm room, casting the shadows of the hyperactive roommates of hers of the walls. They were jumping around, laughing and squealing at something that was unknown to Ginny. Annoyed, she drew the hangings of her four-poster open and snapped at them to be quiet. Emily gave her a nasty look.

"Well, someone's certainly woken up on the wrong side of the bed," she retorted. Ginny scrunched up her face in frustration and slipped out of the bed, throwing her tattered bathrobe over her nightclothes and slipping her fluffy white slippers onto her feet. She vaguely caught her reflection in the window and saw that her hair was standing up at all ends all over her head, leading her to believe that she hadn't had a very calm sleep last night.

"So what if I did?" Ginny mumbled in reply to Emily's previous statement. Abby looked at her gleefully.

"Well, this will cheer you up! Look what Emily got this morning!" she thrust a piece of parchment in Ginny's face. It was a dull yellow colour, frayed at the edges and very old looking. Ginny wondered if it was made to look this way on purpose. Across its front was a scrawl in deep green ink - Meet me at the top of the Astronomy tower at Midnight tonight. Come alone. We must discuss something.

Ginny looked at Abby, puzzled. "How exactly is this supposed to cheer me up?" she questioned. Abby smiled.

"I think Emily's got a secret admirer!" she whispered hoarsely. They both giggled. Ginny wanted to be sick.

"How do you know that it's not something dangerous?" she eyed the note again. There was something familiar about that hand… But she couldn't quite lay her finger on it. Emily's smile faltered.

"What do you mean?"

"It could be a trap," Ginny sneered nastily, realizing at once that it was Draco's handwriting. His Eagle Owl had obviously delivered it to the wrong bed… She read the note over once more. "Yes, it definitely sounds like a trap. I wouldn't go if I were you."

"Why not?" the two girls asked in unison.

"Because," replied Ginny matter-of-factly, "you might get yourself killed." They gulped.

"Maybe she's right, Em…" Abby said nervously.

"Yeah. Well, if I do have a secret admirer, then they can just come outright and say it!" she said determinedly. Ginny smiled. They had taken the bait.

"That's smart," said Ginny, gathering her things for a shower, the note still in her clutches.

*

Later that day, Ginny wandered back into the common room, wanting a little time for herself. Most of the Gryffindors were having lunch in the Great Hall, so this would be the perfect opportunity to sit by the fire and collect her thoughts. Problem was, the couch beside the fire was already occupied by two figures who looked very busy indeed. Ginny's jaw dropped when she saw that it was Harry and Hermione on the couch, grasping each other, their mouths locked firmly and their hands roaming. She cleared her throat loudly, just as Harry had done the night before. They sprang apart, eyes darting nervously around, finally settling on Ginny. Ginny smirked.

"Now, now, children," she said in a mock-McGonagall tone, "we save these sort of activities for in our own private times, not during schooling hours. Please, refrain from this in the future," Harry cracked a smile.

"Oh, Ginny, it's only you…" he said, sounding relieved.

"We thought it might've been Ron," said Hermione, sounding nervous still. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"You haven't told him yet?"

"Well… No," Harry confessed. "We were afraid that he might go berserk or something…" Ginny nodded.

"Speaking of… You haven't told him about last night have you?" Ginny asked. Harry shook his head and propped himself up.

"No. I'll leave that up to you, Gin. What have you got there?" he asked, nodding at the parchment in her hands. Ginny had been carrying it around all day, reading it over and over, wondering if it was a joke or not. She considered showing it to him, and finally decided to. He would, after all, know for sure if it was Malfoy's writing, and whether or not this was his sort of practical joke. Harry skimmed over it a few times, then looked up at her.

"This is Malfoy's writing," he said slowly. Ginny nodded, waiting for some sort of protest of her going to meet him there tonight, but all Harry did was shake his head and sigh. "Well, Malfoy doesn't seem the type to stand someone up if he says he needs to talk to them… So I'm fairly sure it's not a trick or anything," he looked at her to see her staring back, still waiting. "You know, Gin, I'm not going to stop you from going tonight, but you know I'd rather you not… Just keep in mind what I said and if Malfoy tries to take advantage of you in any way that makes you feel uncomfortable, get the hell out of there, okay?" Ginny nodded, and Harry jumped up. "Be right back!" he yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted up the spiral staircase and into the boys' dormitories. Ginny gave Hermione a questioning look, but she only shrugged. Ginny sat down on a chair, glad that Harry hadn't yelled at her.

He came rushing back down the stairs a few minutes later, clutching something silky and silvery in his hands. He thrust it at her, and she barely caught it in time before it slithered to the ground.

"Here," he said, "use this. It's my Invisibility cloak. If Malfoy tries to anything funny, get under that right away and slip off." Ginny was shocked. Harry's Invisibility Cloak was one of his most prized possessions, not to mention valuable. He was only known to lend it to Ron and Hermione, and even then he was usually with them. She thanked him graciously then ran up to her own dorm to pass the time away before Midnight came.

*

With the Invisibility Cloak safely pulled around her, Ginny padded slowly and silently up towards the Astronomy Tower at precisely a quarter to Midnight. The castle corridors were virtually deserted, though once she did come across Mrs. Norris, who stared at her with her lamp-like eyes. Ginny was almost certain she could see through the cloak as she scuttered off, probably to go find Filch.

She climbed the steps to the Astronomy Tower, taking them very slowly, one by one. She was shaking slightly from nerves even though she kept telling herself that there was nothing to worry about. They would get this whole thing all sorted out, then things would go back to the way they were.

The spiraling staircase seemed to go on forever, but finally, Ginny emerged in the cold night air on the balcony. The wind swirled around her, swaying the cloak, but she did not remove it. Draco was standing near the top of the staircase, casually leaning against a stone wall with his shoulder, his arms folded firmly across his chest. He was wearing his school uniform, as was she, but his silver and black necktie was undone around his neck and his hair was rippling in the soft winds. She also noted that he was wearing a white shirt today. His robes hung loosely around his shoulders and his black shoes were polished immaculately. His cheeks were flushed slightly, tinged a faint rose color, which stood out greatly against the usual snow white of his skin.

His head snapped up as soon as she shuffled onto the balcony. She knew he couldn't see her, but he could obviously sense someone was there. His hand plummeted down the front of his robes, drawing out his wand.

"Who's there?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. Do I really want to do this? She asked herself. What could I be getting myself into? Deciding to take a risk, Ginny bit her lip and removed her cloak.

~

Draco watched the minutes tick by as he waited for her at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Midnight came and went, and still, not a soul passed through the door onto the balcony. He shivered; the winds were picking up. Sighing, he leaned back against the wall, slumped up against his left shoulder. Where was she? Would she come? What if she thought it was a threat? What if she wasn't interested in him at all and last night had only been a mistake. Again, he expelled his breath, checking his watch. It was only five minutes of the hour -- she was allowed to be a little late.

Suddenly, it was as though there was another presence about him. Rather ghostly, but there was definitely someone up here. He reached down the front of his robes, drawing out his wand. Was it her? Was she here? No, there was nobody in sight. Oh, bloody hell, has she got that stupid Invisibility Cloak of Potter's on?

"Who's there?" he asked after a few moments. As if confirming his previous mental inquiry, Ginny materialized into view from seemingly thin air. His breath was sucked out of him as he saw her. Her cheeks were flushed - probably from the effort of climbing the long, steep staircase - and freckled. Her loose cascades of fiery curls tumbled down over her shoulders like wildfire, bathing in the moonlight. Her deep chocolate brown eyes were lit up with a mixture of mischief and nerves. She, too, had a school uniform on, but it was slightly askew; her tie, like his, was undone and hanging around her neck in gold and scarlet stripes. Her gray wool pleated skirt was hitched up slightly so it came just above her knees. The gray wool of her sweater was rumpled and just covering the white collar of her shirt, showing off her curves probably more than it was intended to. She hadn't even bother to throw a set of robes on, it appeared.

"Ginny…" he breathed her name. He had never in a million years imagined that he would be meeting a Weasley atop the Astronomy Tower, but she was most definitely here, and she was most definitely real. She took a step towards him, dropping the cloak. He breathed in deeply. Could she really help him? Could she really pull him out of this world of evil that was created for him? He would see…

"Draco. You wanted to talk to me?" she asked solemnly. He nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. Snap out of it, Malfoy, he commanded himself; She's just a girl. You're not afraid of girls.

"Yes," he managed. He ran a hand through his hair. It felt soft beneath his fingertips without the usual slick in it. There was a bit of a silence before she prompted him on, taking another step closer as she did so.

"Well…?" He swallowed again and moved very close to her. They were so close now; he could hear her uneven breaths. Her chest rose and fell in a ragged pattern. He fought to keep his own breathing under control. Her warm breath landed on his cheeks as she tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes wide and scared. He reached out a hand and ran it up her side, then back down and leaving it to rest on her hip. She moved closer still, so they were now almost pressed against each other.

"Can you help me?" he whispered, leaning down and kissing the corner of her mouth softly and slowly. She closed her eyes and kissed back for the brief moment that the kiss lasted. With his other hand, Draco reached up and brushed a bit of hair out of her eyes. The moonlight illuminated her milky skin and gave her hair extra luster. He ran his hand through her curls, feeling their silky texture. He could feel himself begin to loose control under her spell again.

"You know I will," she whispered back, standing on her tiptoes to return a brief kiss. Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, smelling her scent. She smelled like vanilla and spices… And she tasted just as sweet. He longed to have her lips back on his, but he had to take this slowly.

They exchanged no word for the longest time, only stood as that. He could feel her trembling slightly and wasn't sure if it was because she was cold or not.

"Are you cold?" he asked finally.

"No," she replied, then wrapped her arms around his neck and forced him to lower his mouth to hers. He smiled -- a true smile, as she did so, meeting her lips in a slow, steady kiss. It was the polar opposite of their previous kiss; this one was so in control. Her lips moved slowly under his as he pulled her closer, gently rubbing her back. Her hands were buried in his hair as she finally opened up her mouth for him, moaning slightly again. Slow, Draco, slow, he thought to himself, willing not to get out of control. And he didn't. He broke the kiss before it could be taken any further, then rested his forehead atop hers, letting his hair fall into her eyes. She smiled.

~

His kisses were far too tempting, she decided. When he broke the kiss, all she wanted was more. She wanted to drink him in; to let him drink her in. He rested his forehead on her, smiling. She could do nothing but the same. She knew that he was just beginning again. She knew of his past, and hoped that it wouldn't be his future. This was it for her - she could help prevent the world from receiving another Dark wizard if she could only help him in time, and this seemed to be the way. To draw him away slowly… Tempt him out of darkness.

It was odd, thinking of how just the day before he had stalked down into the Dungeons, insulting her after colliding. But that had just been a cover up. He had changed, somehow, over the last twenty-four hours, and most definitely for the better.

She could make him learn to breathe.

~

She was helping him learn to breathe all over again. He would be starting from the scraps of life all over again, but he didn't care. He needed to learn how to crawl, how to walk, and how to let someone break his fall. He knew he could do it from the moment their lips met for the first time - he had had enough of his old life.

"Ginny, I -" she silenced him by putting a finger to his lips.

"Just breathe, Draco, just breathe."