Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Ginny Weasley Harry Potter James Potter
Genres:
Romance Mystery
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 10/21/2001
Updated: 10/02/2002
Words: 143,884
Chapters: 17
Hits: 70,312

All You Need Is Love

MochaButterfly

Story Summary:
Ginny and Draco wake up one morning to find themselves in a totally different world. The year is 1607, Draco is Prince of Wales, Ginny Princess of England, and they're Muggles. Everything's different, but the worst thing is they're . . . engaged.

Chapter 16

Chapter Summary:
Ginny and Draco wake up one morning to find themselves in a totally different world. The year is 1607, Draco is Prince of Wales, Ginny Princess of England, and they’re Muggles. Everything’s different, but the worst thing is they’re engaged.
Posted:
09/01/2002
Hits:
3,351
Author's Note:
I’m very well aware of how stupid the title of the chapter is, but I couldn’t think of anything else. Sorry for such an awful name.

Chapter Sixteen

Jack, Floo Powder, and Lucius Malfoy

Something soft and moist rubbed against Draco's cheek. At first he thought it was a dream. It took him a moment to realize whatever it was clearly was trying to wake him up, and he came to from a deep sleep.

Now he smelled something unpleasant.

He blinked his lids open heavily, but still the soft and moist thing nuzzled his cheek harder, nudging him. He glanced over at it and for one crazy instant thought it was a horse, with its mouth pressed against his face and its stale breath filling his nostrils, and he was back in his room in Malfoy Manor.

Then the crazy instant turned into an insane reality. Draco yelped and suddenly wide-awake rolled off the other side of his bed. He hurriedly got to his feet and whipped around to stare at the horse that was standing in his room, looking incredibly out of place and filling the space with a strong horse-smell.

"What the fuck?" Draco demanded, wiping his cheek dry.

It took him about a full minute to register that it was Jack.

Draco glanced around quickly and found that he definitely was back home, not in a castle, but in his modern bedroom that he'd lived in since he was born. The only thing that was different was that there was a horse standing right beside the bed, swishing his tail, flicking his ears, and snorting every now and then.

Draco looked down at himself to find he wasn't wearing tight trousers and a doublet any longer - he was in a pair of his own dark trousers and a dark shirt that he had fallen asleep in the night before he'd woken up in 1607.

If only Jack hadn't been there; then Draco might've been able to think the entire thing hadn't happened. But there the damned horse was, real as life itself, and he clearly wasn't going away.

Draco swore and rubbed his cheek again.

"Stay here," he said sternly to Jack, and left his room.

He headed towards the dining room, where he was guessing his mother would be eating breakfast. He needed to know what day it was.

What had happened? The question kept circling around in his mind. The last thing he remembered was standing in the hall with Ginny before Tom had stunned him. And then . . . he'd woken up at home.

Either Tom had suddenly decided to be kind and let them return to their time, or . . . well, Draco couldn't come up with another theory. None of it made sense.

Still, why had Tom stunned him? Had he stunned Ginny, too? Draco was still completely lost as to why he'd brought them there. He wasn't completely sure why stunning him would accomplish anything, if Tom had needed them for some reason, but anything was possible. Maybe Tom had been planning on killing him later.

Yet if that was the case, then why was Draco home?

Does it really matter? a voice asked.

Well, the point was that he was home. And there was no sign of Tom anywhere. In fact, Draco was pretty sure he didn't exist. So why did he have to worry about it? Why try and question something he'd wanted to happen for weeks?

When Draco entered the dinning room, he found his mother with an empty plate in front of her, and reading a novel. She didn't look up when he entered, but she raised her eyebrow and said, "Good afternoon, Draco."

"What day is it?" Draco asked, taking a seat beside her.

"It's nearly one o'clock," Narcissa replied absently.

"No, what day is it?" he repeated a bit harshly.

Finally, his mother looked up, lowering her book. "What day? I believe it's the fifth."

"Of December?"

"No, Draco, of June," Narcissa commented dryly. She seemed to notice his expression and sobered, peering closely at his face, her ice blue eyes squinted. "Are you all right?"

"I'm great," said Draco through clenched teeth. "It's the fifth of December, you say?"

"Yes, Draco," she sighed, sounding slightly on the exasperated side.

"So I haven't been missing," he stated bluntly.

"Not that I've been aware," Narcissa said smoothly, returning to her book.

"There's a horse in my bedroom," Draco added, hoping to snare her attention again.

He only received that raised eyebrow; a trait he'd inherited. "Draco, please. I'm trying to read."

With a deep sigh, he stood up and left the room. So now things were even more confusing. How could the past three weeks have happened if he hadn't been missing even twelve hours?

But it obviously had happened. Why else would Jack be in his room?

Maybe it's not Jack, Draco thought. He might've been so panicked to have a horse in his room that he might not have noticed what it looked like. It was possible that it was just there as a joke.

Only he didn't know anyone who would find putting a horse in his room at all amusing.

Draco was confused, and he didn't like the feeling. He had always felt the need to know everything, to understand what everything meant. But lately it seemed like nothing was making sense, and he couldn't understand anything. Why wouldn't someone explain something to him?

Back in his room, the horse hadn't moved at all. It still stood beside his bed.

Draco closed his door and approached the creature. Well, it certainly looked like Jack.

It even had that little spot of white on top of its ear, whereas the rest of him was black. Hell - even the saddle looked familiar.

"How'd you get here?" Draco asked, grabbing the reins and stroking Jack's nose.

Jack's white-spotted ear twitched.

Draco wasn't sure what he was going to do with Jack. He didn't have a barn, and he didn't know of one nearby. He definitely couldn't leave the horse in his bedroom. Who knew when Jack was going to have to relieve himself?

Draco sat down on his bed and tried to think. He needed to sort out his thoughts, even though it was rather hard, because he wasn't sure what to think. He was still hopelessly lost and puzzled by everything.

First things first: Ginny. She'd been kidnapped by Tom. He might've explained things to her. Perhaps she knew what was going on.

Yeah, well, even if she did, Draco wasn't at all sure if he should send her an owl. She was probably back at Hogwarts, probably didn't want to ever hear from him again.

That was fine with him. He didn't want to hear from her, either.

Or . . . maybe he did. He just wanted to know what the hell was happening - why they'd been in the year 1607, why they'd come back. If she didn't know, fine; then she just wouldn't reply. But if she did, he'd have her tell him.

He went over to his desk and pulled out a fresh parchment. It took him about five minutes of staring at it before he decided how to address her. Dear Ginny seemed too personal, and Weasley seemed too . . . childish. He finally just put Ginny and proceeded to write the letter.

When he was done, he rolled it up, but hesitated before heading downstairs to send his owl with it. What if Ginny had no idea what he was talking about? What if she didn't remember a thing?

That wouldn't be right, though. Whoever brought them back wouldn't just leave him with the memory of it. Would they?

He felt humiliated even at the thought of Ginny receiving the letter and having not an inkling of what it meant. Maybe it would be better just to go to Hogwarts, and see her reaction at the sight of him . . .

Draco crumpled the parchment and threw it away.

Maybe it would be better if I just forgot about it, he told himself bitterly.

Jack snorted and stomped at the floor, almost as if he were arguing.

"Oh, like you know anything," Draco snapped, running his hand over his face.

He then sighed for what seemed like the millionth time, realizing the idiot horse was right - there was no force possible that could make him forget about what had happened to him. There was even less that could make him forget about how he felt when he was around Ginny Weasley.

* * *

Luckily, Ginny didn't have to search for Dumbledore's office; lunch had started, and he was in the Great Hall eating. As soon as he saw her approaching the teachers' table he politely excused himself from his conversation with Professor Flitwick, and nodded at her so she would follow him out of the hall where they could talk privately.

Ginny knew at that moment for sure that Dumbledore knew what had happened, and most likely had saved them.

She'd never loved the old man more.

"Let's talk in my office, shall we, Ginny?" Dumbledore asked kindly, his eyes twinkling knowingly.

She agreed, because she seriously didn't want anyone overhearing what they might say. She followed him quietly up to the tower where his office was, and politely pretended not to hear the password ("cherry chocolate bars") that made the gargoyle spring aside. Ginny had never been to Dumbledore's office before; she quietly took in the moving spiral staircase and the large circular office without comment. Smiling kindly at her, he asked her to take a seat in front of his desk, and sat down himself.

There was a long stretch of silence in which Ginny, feeling awkward, looked around and pretended to be interested in the portraits of the sleeping former Headmasters and Headmistresses. At last Dumbledore spoke.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Weasley?"

She met his eyes and found a shadow of a smile on his face. "Um, yes," she answered.

"What's that portrait of me and Draco - Draco Malfoy . . . what's that doing on my bed?"

Dumbledore pressed his fingertips together and appeared to be surprised. "Portrait?"

For one fleeting second, one terrifying moment, Ginny thought that maybe

Dumbledore had no clue as to what she was about to tell him.

"I thought you might enjoy a souvenir," he went on before she could jump up and run from the room in embarrassment. He grinned mysteriously at her.

Ginny instantly relaxed in the chair, finding that she had been gripping the armrests.

"So . . . you brought me back? Us back?"

Dumbledore, now looking serious, nodded once. "Yes," he replied simply.

Ginny sat, about a million questions flashed in her mind. How? was the one she wanted to ask the most, but instead decided to have him start from the beginning. "You were there? The entire time?"

"I was," he told her with a slight nod.

"Tom didn't know of your presence?"

"No he did not," Dumbledore said, and that ghost of a smile flickered over his face again.

Ginny found herself smiling back. "I could've gone to you all along and I didn't. I thought that if Tom had made the world then he would've known you there. Why didn't he?"

"He didn't expect that I was able to put myself there," he said. "He was so sure of his own powers he forgot to consider there might be others that weren't too far behind him." Dumbledore then leaned forward, face expressionless, eyes smiling. "He wasn't aware that I knew he was creating the world."

"You were?" Ginny interrupted. "Then why didn't you stop him from bringing Draco and me there?"

She immediately regretted sounding so ungrateful - if it hadn't been for Dumbledore,

Lord Voldemortwould be in her body that very moment.

"I couldn't do that," Dumbledore answered gravely. "I didn't know how to, to be fully honest with you. All I could do was follow you into the world."

"But . . ." Ginny paused, a bit frustrated. "If you were there the whole time, then why didn't you let us know? I didn't think you were to be trusted."

"I couldn't. I must admit to you, Ginny, that Voldemort was more powerful than I was, before Harry killed him. I knew he was making the world, I knew he was going to bring someone from Hogwarts in to it, but I didn't know how to stop him. Nothing like this had ever happened before. All I could do was go into the world, and I barely just managed to do that."

The thought that Voldemorthad been more powerful that Dumbledore chilled Ginny, and she was thoroughly thankful he wasn't around anymore. She suppressed a shudder and waited for Dumbledore to continue.

When he just stared at her with those gentle sparkling eyes, she went on and asked,

"So you basically couldn't let us know you were there to help us?"

"I tried," he admitted. "I told Draco to return with you. I didn't know it was you at the time, of course. I didn't have an idea of what was going on in the world. I only knew about Draco being a prince, and I managed to copy Voldemort in his magical feats - I planted the knowledge of me being the family doctor into the young princess Elle's head. I could only hope that she would pass the information on.

"But there was one thing I couldn't do, and that was enter England," Dumbledore said.

She waited a bit impatiently as he stopped and wiped his spectacles with the left sleeve of his robes.

"Why's that?" she couldn't help but ask as he replaced his glasses back on his face.

"Tom would be aware of me," he said, as though it were that simple. "Or, at least, I had a hunch he would. To be on the safe side, I kept in Wales. I had hoped Draco would've brought you, but you two never came."

Ginny, not for the first time, cursed herself for not visiting him when she had the chance.

"So . . . so how did you bring us back here?" she demanded eagerly. The one question she wanted answered most.

"Before I entered the world, I knew of Tom's plans, for the most part," Dumbledore began, glancing up at the ceiling as he spoke. "I didn't know who he was using, but I knew he was going to come back in another's body. I had my spies - who found out all the information for me in the first place - try their hardest to find any evidence of what sort of spell he was going to use. They got their hands on a parchment Tom had written various words on and copied it, and brought the copy back to me.

"A bit foolish of Voldemort to leave such things around, but I reckon he was so confident with himself he didn't think anyone was suspecting what he was up to."

Dumbledore then went quiet, still staring a bit mistily up at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts.

"Um, sir?" Ginny asked carefully.

"Hmm?" he asked pleasantly, looking down at her once more. "Oh, yes. Well, on the parchment he had basically written a complex spell one uses to take over another's body, making a few adjustments he would try to fit his own purpose. It was really quite ingenious - even I am still stunned by the brilliance of him. However, it was very stupid of him to actually have left such evidence lying around. So I knew what spell he was going to perform, and I set to work on my own little spell."

"What spell is that?" she asked before he even had a chance to explain.

"I suppose it's not so little," Dumbledore replied breezily. "I had to bring it into Tom's creation world with me in order to finish it. Otherwise, I would've been trying to get to you. I was too busy working on finding a way to bring you both back to our regular time, and destroy the world Tom had made.

"I worked for about four weeks on it, two weeks here, and two more weeks in Tom's world. I rarely slept, and I knew there was a strong risk that Tom might be aware of all the magic that took place in his world. Fortunately, he hadn't been expecting any magic but his, so he was oblivious. Finally, I was able to cast a spell that I could only pray might work."

Ginny bit her lip to keep from repeating her question and waited for him to elaborate.

He smiled broadly at her obvious anxiety. "The best way to describe the spell would be in one word: trigger. As soon as Tom cast his spell, the major one that would suck your soul from your body, the spell I cast would trigger a sort of destruction. It would destroy his world; it would cease to exist, as well as the people who lived in it and the not-quite-real spirit that was Tom. However, it would send you, Draco, and of course, yours truly, back to the day you'd left in 1998 - which happened to be last night. And I am happy to report that it worked."

Ginny stared at him with an expression of disbelief, shock, happiness, and awe.

"How'd you make such a spell?" she said quietly.

Dumbledore shrugged. "My own brilliance continues to amaze me, Miss Weasley."

Ginny gave a snort of laughter, but her smile faded shortly afterward. "Thank you, sir," she told him softly. "I - well - we . . . just, thank you."

"You are quite welcome, Ginny," he answered brightly. "Any more questions?"

"Er, yes," she said. "Those murdered families. Why did Tom bother to go through such trouble?"

Dumbledore's eyes darkened at the mention of the murders. "I have only a couple of theories, though none of them I can say are true for certain. One is that he was trying to alert you of his presence, trying to make you aware that he was there and he was powerful enough to harm. The other is that he just grew bored, and needed someone to kill. Perhaps he did this because of both of these reasons.

"However, Ginny," he added, "none of those people truly exist. Even though it might seem terrible, and the thought of it is, it wasn't real, so in reality no one was harmed."

That was definitely a relief. Still, Ginny could picture those poor children as if she had just seen it . . . those poor children, their lives snuffed out all because Tom was bored . . .

"Anything else?"Dumbledore probed gently.

Ginny thought a moment. "James and Lily. Why were they there? Did Tom create them specifically as well?"

"I would have to say yes," he said. "That's the only reasonable explanation, wouldn't you think?"

Ginny didn't think any of the explanations she had been told were reasonable, but she understood. Taking a deep breath, she asked what had been on her mind for the past ten minutes. "What about Draco?"

"What about him? He's safe at home, and I believe his new friend is, as well." Dumbledore's eyes now seemed to twinkle mischievously.

"Friend, Sir?" Ginny repeated, confused. She didn't think Draco had friends even in 1998, much less in 1607.

Dumbledore grinned at her. "I suppose you can call it Mister Malfoy's own souvenir."

Ginny realized she didn't want to know what he had gotten, but then another question popped in her mind. "If you didn't know much about the world, then how did you know about the portrait? And about whatever Draco's 'souvenir' is?"

"Gossip exists in just about every year and society, Ginny," Dumbledore answered mysteriously. "Welsh women in the seventeenth century seemed particularly interested in what sort of horse Prince Draco rode, and what sort of artist painted the new King and Queen's wedding picture."

"Horse?" Ginny repeated, then threw her head back and laughed. "Horse!You gave Draco a horse?"

Dumbledore only smiled, but the look on his face clearly hinted that he had indeed done so.

Ginny felt giddy, and wanted to leap across the desk and hug the daylights out of her headmaster at being so genius and so clever, but then remembered that he was rather old and didn't want to hurt him - or scare him with her sudden show of affection.

Instead, she flashed him her widest smile and stood up.

"Thanks, Professor, I think I understand everything now," she said.

"Good. Now why don't you go to the Great Hall? I believe lunch is still in process."

She grinned and nodded, and then left the office.

* * *

Later that night, Ginny lay in bed, the silly smile still plastered to her face. All in all, the day had been satisfying. She'd sent an owl to each member of her family, just saying hi and explaining how much she missed them. She knew they'd be a bit confused by it, but she didn't care. The fact that they were just an owl away made her feel safe, cosy and extremely content.

She hadn't done much else for the remainder of her Saturday except eat and lounge around wearing her delightfully comfortable clothes. It was nice to be able to wear what she wanted.

But now, since there wasn't anyone to babble to about nothing in particular like she'd been doing all day, she found her thoughts were wandering. And they came to focus on one thing - Draco.

He was at home, and he obviously knew what had happened to them was real. He had a live horse to prove it. Just imagining the look on his face when he realized there was a horse in his house made her laugh, and she had to smother her face in her pillow.

But then - why hadn't he tried to contact her? He had to be curious as to what had happened and why it had. From what she'd heard of him, he wasn't very fond of Dumbledore. So basically that meant if he didn't want to speak with the Headmaster, then Draco - if anything - should try and speak to her. Or at least send her an owl. She knew if she were in his place, she'd be just about dying to know what was going on. She'd gladly swallow her pride and forget about the grudge she held against his family if it meant knowing some of the answers.

Then again, this was Draco she was talking about. He'd rather swallow live snakes than his own pride.

Ginny rolled over, parting her curtains slightly and glancing over at the window. The moon was bright - its bluish light spilled over onto the sill. Hearing all the other seventh years were still sleeping by their deep breaths and snores, she got out of bed and went to the windowsill. Leaning her forehead against the cold glass, she saw that the sky was completely covered with thick clouds - all except for the moon. It peeked through, gleaming and full, washing the grounds in soft brightness, the light glittering off the frost on the grass, sparkling in the cold water of the lake.

Suddenly, she felt sad, like there was something heavy in her chest. Like some part of her was gone forever, and that things might never be as they used to be. She sighed deeply, and closed her eyes. After a moment, she opened them, and found that the clouds had overtaken the moon - it was now hidden, and the world was dark.

The sadness inside her thickened. Even the moon can be conquered, she thought with a frown.

She stood there for a few minutes, her breath clouding up the glass, thinking of nothing specific. Then, it began to snow - so softly and lightly at first, Ginny didn't notice.

Slowly, the flakes became bigger, and fluffier, and all at once Ginny knew why she felt like a part of her had been stolen.

It had. And that very part, the chunk of her soul, was in the possession of Draco Malfoy.

She had brushed off her feelings for him hoping they would just fade, and she still believed that, in time, it would. She wasn't sure about her ideas about love - if a person was meant for just one other person, one soul mate, then what would happen if that soul mate died? Where would that other person be then? - but she did know that if she didn't see Draco again, she'd curse herself forever in wonder. For the rest of her life, even if she grew up and married a nice man who didn't seemed to always want to insult her and was blissfully happy with him, she knew she'd stop and think, What if this was Draco?

A quick glance at the clock told her it was only about eleven. If she hurried, she would be able to steal a broomstick from the shed and fly to Hogsmeadein less than an hour. Then she could Floo herself to Draco's house. Most chances were that Draco was awake, so that wouldn't be much of a problem. However, she guessed - or rather, hoped - his fireplaces were open in the Floo network. If not, then that would definitely be an issue.

If it wasn't open to Floo, then . . . well, she'd wait until holiday vacation came around and take a day to fly there the entire way by broomstick.

Determined and wide awake, she hurried over to her trunk to get dressed in something warm. She also grabbed a couple of Galleons her mother had given her, warning her to only use them in extreme emergencies. Well, this wasn't exactly an emergency, but it would be nice to have money just in case.

After she was ready, she left the dormitory silently, and crept down into the common room. It was dark and silent, the fire having burned down to simmering wood. She knew her way around well enough to be able to see without much light.

The Fat Lady swung open for her without question - she was half asleep and mumbled something incoherently. Ginny hurried away before the Fat Lady realized what she'd done and wake up fully.

Only once did Ginny have to dive behind a large tapestry when Filch walked by - most fortunately without Mrs. Norris. He was muttering to himself, and when his voice faded and then died out completely, she dashed out and hurried to the nearest staircase, wanting to get off the floor as soon as possible.

The main doors were locked, and a simple Alohomora wouldn't open them. Ginny frowned, and cursed under her breath. There were several other ways out - there has to be, she thought - but she wasn't sure where they were.

Her guess was there was most likely one in the kitchens. Once, last year, Ron had shown her where the kitchens were, and how to get there. It was worth a try; the house-elves were so friendly they might not mind if she decided to just waltz out of the kitchens. Besides, it was nearly midnight. Why would they be cooking so late?

To her surprise, the room wasn't empty, but full of sleeping house-elves. Most of them were on the floor, rolled in a large blanket, and a few of them were sitting up in chairs, sound asleep. One was snoring away, drooling on top of one of the tables. Ginny desperately hoped if that was a table they used to prepare food on, that they'd clean it before they put any food there.

Her eyes scanned the room, looking for another door. There was another one, on the other side of the room. She could only hope it led outside.

Crossing the kitchen was a huge task. It seemed everywhere she wanted to put her foot, there was some limb of a house-elf. She ended up tip-toeing through most of them, holding her arms out for balance. Once she missed and accidentally stepped on the face of one of the elves, but it just snorted and rolled over, still sleeping.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she had reached the door. It, too, was locked, but when she whispered, "Alohomora" it snapped right open.

Apparently, no students had ever left the castle through the kitchens before.

She slipped out, the cold air hitting her fiercely. Wrapping her cloak tighter around her, she tried to figure out in which direction the Quidditchpitch was. She'd never exited on this side of the castle and wasn't sure which way to go.

It didn't take long to figure it out. Her breath coming out in tiny clouds, she hurried over the slippery, frosty grass, praying that no teacher with insomnia would be looking out their window that moment.

The broom shed also opened to Alohomora, and Ginny had reasons to believe that the reason it was so easy to get to the broomsticks was because they were all hexed with Locater Spells. Well, it didn't matter; she would be back before morning, so there would be no reason to track her.

She lit up her wand and looked at her broomstick choices. Of course, all of them were several years old, the oldest being the majority: Comet 260's. There were a few Nimbuses, some 2000's, some 2001's. And then there were a couple of Twigger 90's. Ginny wasn't stupid - she'd heard enough from her brother's about broomsticks, and knew that the Nimbus 2001, being the most recent, was her best choice.

Ginny grabbed a Nimbus 2001 and hopped on. She kicked off into the air until she was high enough to see the lights of Hogsmeade in the distance. Then she headed in the direction as fast as the broom would go, the cold air numbing her face and fingers.

The flight was only about ten minutes long, but when she got there she was chilled to the bone. She landed directly in front of Dervish and Banges, a wizard equipment shop.

Inside, it looked dark, and a sign hung in the door that read Closed.

Ginny's stomach drooped with disappointment. She'd hoped that maybe parts of it would still be open, despite the late hour . . .

Suddenly she got a daring idea. She knew she would never have the chance to come here when the store would be open, so she might as well try to get in now and get it over with.

She would break in.

Ginny stood there in the freezing cold and tried all the spells she knew. She tried to make the glass in the door disappear, but obviously it had been hexed to repel the magic. She attempted to put a Bending Charm on the door, so she could tilt it to the side as she stepped in. No use. Then, she took her broomstick in both hands and hurled it at the glass, beating it fiercely, thinking she could just repair it if she broke it. But again, it was protected, and didn't so much as tremble with the force she used.

She finally got desperate enough to transfigure a stick lying nearby into a hairpin, so she could pick the lock. It was only then she noticed that there wasn't a lock; it was sealed by magic, not by a simple Muggledevice.

She bit back a shriek of frustration.

Don't give up, she told herself firmly.

There had to be a way in. Ginny may not have been a powerful witch, as Tom had pointed out, but she was rather clever. Power wasn't everything; one needed brains to use that power. Ginny thought, or maybe hoped, that she had enough brains to figure this out.

Ginny stepped back into the street, looking up at the building. It was two stories, and she guessed that the upper level was probably the home of the owners. She didn't want to go in that way unless she absolutely had to.

But . . . something caught her eye. The window to the far left. It was open a crack.

Who would open their window on such a cold night?

She hopped on to her broom, her heart pounding with excitement of success and the fear of being caught. Hovering underneath the open window, she peeked in. It was too dark to see anything, but she stuck her wand tip into the opening and whispered a couple of words. A white spark hissed from the end and fell to the floor, glowing gently. It revealed a tiny bathroom.

The spark went out a second later, but she had seen what she needed to. The door to the bathroom was wide open - Ginny suspected both that and the window were open to rid the room of an unpleasant odor. Still, she would be able to slip in without too much noise.

She did a quick Silencing Spell so the window wouldn't squeak, and slowly opened it wide enough for her to get in through. She flew up so her knees were parallel with the sill, and stuck her legs inside. A moment later she was in, and hurried to grab her broom and bring it in with her.

There. She was inside. Now she had to get down to the store.

After returning the window to its proper position - open only a tiny bit - she left the toilet and stepped into a dark hall. To her left there was a staircase; to her right, the hall continued on with a series of closed doors.

The staircase was what she wanted.

She tiptoed down. Her heart was thudding so hard within her chest she thought she might wake whoever was sleeping upstairs. Yet somehow, this fear wasn't terrifying or numbing. This fear was . . . exciting. Thrilling. The thought that she was doing something as daring as breaking into a store made her exhilarated.

At the bottom of the stairs was a door. She opened it and stepped into the store itself.

Ginny had been in Dervish and Banges once before, and had seen a row of fireplaces in the wall in the back. She'd seen several wizards and witches disappearing into the flames, obviously leaving by Floo. When she'd asked about it, the clerk had told her that most people came by Floo and left the same way. They were communal fireplaces, open to anyone who wanted to use them.

She had hoped she would still be able to use them at such a late hour.

But now, they were dark and silent. On the mantel above each was a bottle of Floo powder.

Ginny's fingers itched with anticipation. She'd been so intent on getting inside she had forgot the chance that Draco's house might not be connected to the Floo network.

Might as well try, now that I'm here, she thought dryly.

She started a fire with her wand instantly. The warmth and light washed over her face.

As if afraid that the light would summon someone, she glanced over her should to make sure the store was empty. While she did so, she reached for the bottle of Floo powder. She miscalculated the position it was in, and her fingers bumped into it clumsily.

She whipped her head back around just in time to see the bottle topple off the mantel and crash to the floor.

"Oops," she said quietly and idiotically.

The powder was visible through the jagged pieces of glass, and for a moment, Ginny considered reaching down and using it. But the contact with the floor must've activated something, because two things happened at once during that moment.

The powder vaporized into the air, disappearing without a trace.

And an alarm went off.

Ginny froze. The noise must've sent off the alarm, she realized. The shrill beeping filled her ears, giving her the urge to clap her hands over them. Through the noise, she heard a loud thump upstairs.

The owners knew she was there now.

Oh . . . this isn't good, she thought.

Now, more than ever, she prayed that Draco's house was connected to the Floo network. Without thinking twice, she reached for another bottle of Floo powder, took a pinch out, and threw it into her fire. She set the bottle back, grabbed her broom, and jumped into the green flames.

"What the hell . . .?" she heard a groggy voice say thickly.

She saw a man stumble out of the staircase door, and knew she had to get out of there quickly - before he could identify her.

Please, Draco, please be connected to Floo! she prayed.

"Malfoy's mansion!" she said sharply, clearly, but as quietly as she could manage. She could only hope she said the right thing.

Immense relief swept through her body as she began to spin violently. She was going somewhere! At that moment, any place but here would work. Clutching the broom to her chest, keeping her elbows close to her sides, she closed her eyes and waited for the twirling to end.

It seemed she spun for a very long time, when it couldn't have been longer for a minute. Just when she felt like she was going to vomit, she stopped abruptly, so suddenly she lost her balance.

She fell forward, out of whatever fireplace she had come to stop at, and dropped to her knees. The broomstick bumped gently into the carpet that greeted her line of vision.

I made it, she told herself with a great sigh of relief. I got away.

Her relief soon melted away. When she lifted her head, she found she was in a large room, decorated richly, but quite clearly somebody's office. And standing behind the desk, staring at her with a raised eyebrow and cold, questioning eyes, was Lucius Malfoy.

Ginny found she was speechless. Her mouth dropped open, and she felt like the stupidest idiot on the planet. Her face heated up so brightly she knew it was a flaming red.

LuciusMalfoy had been looking through a few parchments, and he still held one in midair, staring at her. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something. Nothing intelligent came to mind.

"Hi," she mumbled, and, not believing it possible, felt her face burn more.

"May I help you?" Lucius asked frigidly.

His tone reminded Ginny of Draco, and instantly, she felt some courage come back.

Draco, she reminded herself. I'm here for Draco.

She rose to her feet, pretending to be occupied with dusting her cloak off so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. When she was through, she said shakily, "I need to speak with your son."

"Are you aware of the time?" He apparently was ignoring her.

"I need to speak with your son," she said again, her tone still trembling. "I doubt he's asleep."

He didn't reply, and she had to look back at him to make sure he was still in the room and that he was listening to her. For sure he was, and he was giving her the oddest look she'd ever received in her life. It was a cross between disbelief, indignation, and amusement.

"You want to speak to Draco?" he asked with a curled lip, as if someone as lowly as her wasn't considered good enough to talk to his son.

Ginny had several good retorts to say, but swallowed them. "Yes," she said, now in control a bit more.

"No," Lucius replied simply.

"No?" she repeated dumbly.

"You cannot speak with him," Lucius told her, sneering. "He does not wish to see you. Now leave, before I call the Ministry to remove you."

"Doesn't want to see me?" she echoed, still sounding like a complete fool.

"That is just what I said," he snapped. "Must you repeat it? Leave."

He returned to his parchments.

"Did he say he didn't want to see me?" she demanded.

"I know he won't want to see you," Lucius said without looking up. "You have approximately two seconds to remove yourself before I do it myself."

Unfazed, and now a bit angry, Ginny said snappishly, "You don't even know my first name, Mr. Malfoy. I doubt Draco has told you that he doesn't want to see me."

Luciusreturned his gray eyes to her, looking furious. He dropped his papers to his desk. "All right, I have given you ample time. Now I am going to have you thrown out of my house -"

Ginny felt that familiar, petrifying fear trickle up beneath her ribs as he started to cross the room towards her. She somehow found her steady voice and responded, "Just ask him. Just ask him if he doesn't want to see Ginny Weasley. And then I will leave."

Luciusignored her, and Ginny winced, preparing for him to grab her. Instead, he walked by her and went to the door. Opening it, he gestured. "Take a left and then a second right. That should take you out, Miss Weasley."

She knew then that she would get no help from him. She would have to find Draco'sroom on her own.

Great.

"Well, thank you for your time," Ginny said, sarcasm laced in every word.

She didn't look at Lucius as she left the office. When she had just barely stepped out, he slammed the door behind her, causing her to jump at the bang.

Ginny turned to glare at the door. "Shit-head," she hissed.

She stood in the hallway, trying to decide what to do. Well, she certainly wasn't going to leave. She'd risked a lot to get here, and LuciusMalfoy didn't scare her; he couldn't get rid of her that easily. Not when it'd been such a task to come here.

So . . . she would look for Draco.

Chances were he was in his bedroom, though she doubted he was sleeping. For some reason, Draco struck her as a person who stayed up until midmorning.

His bedroom, Ginny thought. If I was Draco Malfoy, and I lived in a mansion, where would I want my room to be?

She didn't have a clue.

The house was big, yes, but she would have to search every room to see if it was his.

Carefully, too - it would not be intelligent to barge into a room that was occupied by Mrs. Malfoy.

Ginny wandered around aimlessly, and quietly, continually listening for approaching footsteps. The gigantic house seemed abandoned; most of the house-elves and the few people who occupied it must've been in bed already. She was grateful.

As she looked around, she got a very good idea of how rich the Malfoysreally were.

All the furniture was spotless; new; expensive. It was amazing anyone would want to touch it, let alone sit or sleep on it.

Ginny was evidently on the first level, which was rather open. There were barely any closed doors between rooms - rather, big arched openings connected the huge rooms. The only place that was really closed off was the kitchen, and she knew that was because it was where the house-elves worked, and were to be kept out of sight.

She found the wide, curving staircase that led upstairs, and was slightly relieved. She knew that Draco's bedroom would be up there.

Now that she was here, and only minutes away from finding Draco, she began to have second thoughts. How would he react when he saw her? Would he tell her to go away? Would he give her a chance to explain how she felt?

And if he did give her a chance, would she have the courage? To say to his face that she was madly in love with him, and wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anybody in her entire life?

Apprehension bubbled in her stomach.

She tried to imagine what it would feel like if Draco told her he didn't love . . . like her. She tried to think of a witty reply to throw back at him if he said, "Get lost, Weasley - I only snogged you because you were the only person I knew there."

Ginny found that it hurt far too much to imagine, that it caused her eyes to burn with obnoxious tears.

What a fool she was to fall in love with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco couldn't sleep. So far, he hadn't been able to get Jack out of his room. Oh, it would be easy to do so, but he had no idea where to put the damned animal. He needed to find a barn, and when he did, he'd have to pay for him to stay there. Not that the money was a problem, but he would have to explain to his father where his spending money was going so rapidly.

And he didn't want to do that.

The troubling thoughts weren't what were keeping him awake, though. It was the stench. The smell of horse.

Outside, in fresh air, Jack hadn't been too bad. But since he'd been in the room all day, it was beginning to reek quite splendidly. And though Jack was standing against the wall, fast asleep, he was a noisy one while he slept - he snorted and whinnied several times. Draco had to soundproof the walls so no one in the house would hear but him.

And he would have put a fragrancing spell in his room, if he had known how to do such. When he'd learned magic, though, learning how to make a room smell nice wasn't his top priority.

So now he was suffering the consequences.

With a deep sigh, Draco rolled over and glanced at his clock. Nearly one.It wasn't the latest he'd ever been up, for sure, but for once, he actually wanted to sleep.

As much as it was a relief to be back in his house, away from Tom Riddle, he wasn't really happy that he was. At least in 1607, there'd been a little sister to play with. And Ginny to snog. Here . . . well, it would be easy to get a replacement snogger, but he had the strongest urge to play cards. And he knew any replacement snogger would be kind and let him win. That just wouldn't be fun.

Fun. He scoffed at himself. He hadn't had fun since he'd stopped picking on Potter and his friends in seventh year. And he hadn't had any desire to have a good time since then.

Damn Ginny. He really hated her. She made him want to play cards with her. She made him want to snog her, and her only. What was her problem? Did she think she could just do that to anyone - walk into their lives, and totally ruin everything?

He gritted his teeth. God, he hated her.

Yet at the moment, he was developing a rather strong dislike for horses as well. It somehow surpassed his thoughts on Ginny, and with a sigh of impatience, he threw his covers off and got out of bed. He wasn't going to fall asleep in this room - that was for sure.

Draco decided he would sleep in one of the guest rooms, and put a Locking Charm on the door so no one would walk in to find Jack. It seemed like a good plan, but before he had a chance to even start to carry it out, someone knocked on the door.

The knock confused him. Only one person knocked on his door gently, and that was his mother. And he was sure Narcissa wasn't awake at this hour, and if she was, then she wouldn't be bothering him. LuciusMalfoy always pounded on the door and then walked in without waiting for a reply.

It wasn't his mother or father, and it certainly wouldn't be the hired help. So who would be knocking on his door so late at night?

The fact that it was a person, and that they wanted to come in to his room, caused him to panic slightly. What would he do with Jack?

"Just a minute," Draco said, before realizing his room was soundproof - whoever it was couldn't hear him.

He didn't have a chance to attempt to hide Jack. The door opened to reveal -

Ginny.

Draco blinked, wondering maybe if he was hallucinating. It took him all of two seconds to come to the conclusion that, no, he was not imagining things. Ginny

Weasley was standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

The light from the hallway spilled in, just enough so Ginny could squint and see into the dark room. Her eyes travelled over Draco's unmade bed, to Draco himself, to Jack, and then back to Draco.

He stared back at her, making mental note of how much he wanted to hate her wild mane of red hair, how much he wanted to hate her freckles, how much he wanted hate that worn-out cloak she was wearing . . . he even wanted to hate the way she was gripping a broomstick in her right hand, the way it caused her knuckles to whiten. But for the first time ever, as he thought of how much he should hate all this, he just couldn't feel it. For the first time in his life, he was happy beyond anything he could comprehend that Ginny was standing there awkwardly and looking expectantly at his face.

Why was she doing this to him?

"There's a horse in my room," Draco commented suddenly, for lack of anything else to say.

And Ginny smiled at that, a bright, humorous smile, glancing over at Jack's sleeping form. "It was a present from Dumbledore," she said softly.

"Wonderful." Draco sneered. "Did you get such a spectacular present as well?"

"Not quite." Her smile faded, and she seemed embarrassed.

"Well," said Draco loudly. "Is there a reason you're in my room also?"

"Yes," she answered, locking her eyes with his. "Can we talk?"

"What do you think we're doing?"

She frowned at him. "No, I mean serious talk."

"Civilized conversation?"

"I'm being serious, Draco!" she snapped.

"I'm not laughing, Ginny," he retorted. "If you want to talk, fine. Go ahead. I'm listening."

She seemed to falter, and looked around the room. As if realizing something then, she wrinkled her nose. "It smells in here."

"Yeah. Well, generally that happens when there's a horse around," he said sharply, getting annoyed now.

"Is there any other room we can go?"

"I think where we are is just fine." Now he was just trying to be stubborn. "I would like to get to sleep sometime tonight, Ginny. So have you anything intelligent to say to me?"

She sighed with exasperation. "Fine. Fine.But can I at least sit down?"

He gestured to his desk chair. "Sit all you'd like," he told her with a smirk.

"And it would be useful to have some light," she added, using magic to light all the candles in less than a second.

She shut the door and crossed over to the desk chair, sitting down. She removed her cloak and took her precious time placing it neatly on the back of her seat. Then, she stood once more, set her broomstick against the wall, and finally returned to her chair. It seemed she was situated, but then she jerked as if she remembered something, and pulled off her jumper¹. Resting back in her seat, she looked as though she planned to wait for sunrise before she proceeded to speak her mind.

"Like I said before," Draco told her icily, "I would like to sleep for at least an hour or two. Could you hurry it up?"

Ginny shot him a fiery look. "Just shut up, all right, Draco? You'll get your precious sleep, I promise. Just give me ten minutes."

He crossed his arms over his bare chest, and smiled slickly at her. "I'm counting."

She chose to ignore him. "First thing. Don't you care to know why Tom brought us into that world?"

"Not particularly."

"Liar."

"Tell me."

She sighed, ran a hand through her hair, and then proceeded to tell him everything

Tom had told her. It took nearly all of the promised ten minutes, but by the time she was finished, Draco had forgotten about the time-length and had to ask many questions that were on his mind. She seemed to know just about everything he asked, which surprised him.

"I spoke with Dumbledore," she explained, obviously reading his slightly impressed expression. "He told me everything Tom didn't."

"So it was the old man who saved us," Draco said with a cocky grin. "I must admit my respect for him has gone up a notch or two."

She glared at him, her brown eyes made darker with aggravation.

Draco stopped smiling, uncrossed his arms, and sat down on his bed. "You came here just to tell me this?" he said slowly. "When you could've written it in a letter?"

At that, her gaze dropped to her lap and she seemed interested in picking at a nail. She was nervous about something, and for some reason, that made Draco feel uneasy.

"I also had something else to . . . to run by you," she mumbled, avoiding looking him in the eye.

Jack snorted in his sleep.

Ginny turned her attention to him, and half-smiled. "You really need to get that poor horse out of here."

"Do you really think so?" Draco asked earnestly with a completely sombre face.

"I got a present from Dumbledore, too," she announced rather abruptly, occupied once more with her nails.

"Yes, so you told me." He made sure he sounded impatient and bothered.

"It wasn't an animal," she persisted. "It was our . . . our wedding picture."

Draco had to work a bit to keep his features blank. "The one that took three hours?"

"No, the other one," Ginny spat sarcastically, throwing him a look that clearly pointed out that she thought him an idiot.

He chose to ignore her. "I'm still slightly confused, Ginny," Draco drawled meticulously, tapping a finger to his chin. "You came here in the middle of the night to explain why we were sent back in time, and then to say that you'd gotten our wedding portrait . . . when you could've simply wrote me about it?"

She blushed furiously, and he had to grin.

"Isn't it obvious why I'm here?" she demanded thickly.

"No. Not really, no," he said bluntly.

"God, you're a git," she muttered, and pressed the heels of her hands to her closed eyes. She shook her head, opened her eyes, and sucked in a deep breath. "All right, I'll just say it. I came here to discuss us."

Well. Now he felt very stupid. He should've known that, by the way she was acting. Maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself.

I guess there's no avoiding it, he thought. She wanted to talk about the possibility of a relationship between them, and he was going to have to listen.

"Fine" was all he said.

"Fine?" she echoed weakly. "Fine . . . okay."

There was a long pause, in which Ginny stood up and went to stroke Jack's flank, and Draco watched her. He wasn't sure if she was waiting for him to say something first, but if she was, she was going to have to wait a long time.

"So what do you think?" she finally said.

"About what?"

She looked away from Jack and shot him a fiery look. "Quit being stupid, Draco," she said shortly.

He sucked in a breath. "I haven't given us much thought," he told her, lying a bit. He definitely had thought about it, but hadn't come to any conclusions yet.

"Well, maybe you should start," she said furiously, narrowing her eyes at him.

Once again there was a stretch of silence. Ginny sighed several times, the hard look on her face softening into something that resembled defeat. She patted Jack one last time, and then came to sit next to Draco on the bed.

It was not good for him to be so close to her. Especially when he was only wearing pajama bottoms.

Not good for him at all.

"Fine, I'll just say it," she said, her voice wavering a little.

She met his gaze, and he found he couldn't look away. Ginny was doing it again - breaking down his defenses, making him feel things he shouldn't be feeling. Making him feel things he didn't want to feel.

"It's really hard," she admitted softly, her mouth curving into a smile.

She brought her face closer to his, as if sensing a passionate moment. Their noses touched.

Heart pounding, he tried desperately to think of something witty before he lost all his senses completely. "Well," he told her huskily, "as long as you aren't confessing that you're really a man, then you can tell me anything you want."

She broke into a wide grin and gave a small laugh. "No, I'm not a man," she said without loosing her delighted expression.

He couldn't answer. He was afraid if he opened his mouth he would have to kiss her.

Oh, Christ, get away from me, he thought desperately.

She didn't. Slowly her smile faded, and her eyes roamed over his face, as if she were trying to file his looks away in her memory. His breath was coming out in short spurts, but she didn't seem to notice. Lifting her hand, she gently trailed her fingertips along his jawbone, and resting them on his lips.

"God, you're beautiful," she whispered.

Draco lost whatever tiny grasp he had on his control, and leaned forward to kiss her.

Her arms went around his neck, and his went to her waist to pull her closer to him. She obliged, shifting around so that she was straddling his lap. Without breaking contact, she placed both palms on his chest and smoothly pushed him back to the bed.

Uh oh. In the back of his mind, Draco had enough sense to realize that here he was, kissing Ginny Weasley once again, and that he definitely shouldn't be doing this.

However, as Ginny's hands roamed over his bare chest, somehow finding room in between their molded bodies, he found that he didn't care in the slightest.

He was going to enjoy her, and he wasn't going to worry about it.

Ginny's lips left his to trail off down his cheek, down his neck . . . without thinking, he found the bottom of her shirt and tugged it off her, throwing it somewhere to the side.

She lifted her head only briefly for him to get it off, then returned to her small kisses,

nowraining down on his right shoulder. She held him tightly by the ribs, as if she were trying to keep him still as she began now to trace her way down his chest . . .

Down near his naval . . .

Down . . .

Before he could even begin to comprehend what was going on, Ginny paused at the elastic waist of his pajama trousers. Then, clearly not able to help herself, she pressed her lips firmly against his skin and blew a raspberry.

He burst out laughing, unable to stop himself. No one had ever done that to him before, and he found it oddly hilarious. She glanced up and met his eyes, grinning once more with her eyes bright.

Draco's smile faded sluggishly.

Then, as graceful as a cat, she crawled back up so she could prop herself on her hands and stare down at him. For a long moment she said nothing; her face blank, but her dark eyes even darker with infatuation.

She leisurely lowered herself into the nook of his arm, tilting her head so her breath was warm on his neck and cheek. Gently, she turned his head so his mouth would meet hers. Instead of pressing herself against him, however, she just brushed her lips to his, causing him to suppress a shudder.

Then, she whispered in a slow, drawn-out tone: "I love you."

He stiffened involuntarily, but she didn't seem to notice. Now he felt slightly ridiculous. Of course that's what she'd wanted to tell him. How could he have been so thick as to not realize it?

Her gaze was on his features, waiting for him to reply. He would have to say something - hell, he would be satisfied if he could squeak out the word banana.

Finally, swallowing and then licking his lips, he whispered back, "Do you?"

Inwardly, he cringed. Do you? What kind of idiot arsed question was that? She'd just said she did, why would she change her mind a second later?

But Ginny seemed not to have observed his stupidity. "I do," she answered almost dreamily.

I do. It was like getting married to her all over again . . . likeice water running over him. It jerked him almost painfully out of his state of mind, and his normal self broke free.

He sat up abruptly, the skin Ginny had just been pressed against growing cold instantly.

"No you don't," he said tonelessly. "You just think you do."

You can't love me, he added. You can't.

But for some reason, he couldn't think of why she couldn't. For the life of him, he couldn't think of why it was such a bad thing. And for the first time in his life, he wondered if he was scared.

Scared of letting someone get too close to him. Scared of showing someone that he was . . . well, human.

He could feel her staring at him, and then heard her muffled cry of frustration.

"Oooh. You are a git, Malfoy," she declared hotly, standing up. "You haven't a clue what I think or what I feel."

He wouldn't look at her, but he saw from the corner of his eye as she searched wildly for her shirt. He saw as she thrust her arms through the holes and heaved it over her head. She then spun on one heel, just about ran across the room, threw the door open, and hurried out.

"Argh," Draco groaned.

He buried his face in his hands and fell backwards onto his bed. Of course she'd stormed out - he'd hurt her feelings. It wasn't unusual for him to be so cold-hearted, but for once, he felt positively shitty about it.

It was then he remembered she'd left her jumper, cloak, and broomstick in his room.

He sat up and glanced at the items, wondering if she'd come back for them.

A moment later, she was back in the room, fury radiating from her as she stomped over to her things and grabbed them quickly. Then, trying to calm herself, she turned to Draco without looking at him.

"How do I get out of here?" she said in a controlled voice.

He heaved a sigh, realizing he would have to help her. Getting to his feet, he replied,

"There's a back staircase the house-elves use, and a backdoor that's rarely ever locked. I'll show you."

The last sentence came out as a grumble.

"I can find it myself," she said stubbornly.

"Ha. No you can't," he told her matter-of-factly. "Any uninvited guests in the Malfoy Mansion can't ever find a way out. Just last week we caught some idiot who was trying to rob us, using the toilet. He'd been in the house for a week."

Ginny seemed to forget her anger momentarily. "Really?" she said.

"Yes. Now let's go, and fast."

Her eyes glazed over and she pressed her lips together, but followed him obediently. Draco could almost feel how tense her body was as they walked as quietly as possible down the dark hallway. He speculated whether or not to say anything to her. There was nothing he could say, he found, that would sound right. Everything he could think of was far too mushy, far too corny . . . just far too not him.

She'll just leave, he thought. She'll just leave and walk out of my life, and I'll never see her again.

That was supposed to cheer him up; to get him to believe that he would get over her and move on, leaving this brief fascination for her behind as a bad memory. But it only made him feel like his stomach was made of lead, and cause his heart to thump almost excruciatingly in his chest.

God, just forget about her, he told himself harshly, having the sudden urge to throw himself against the wall. Hard. So he would knock whatever was wrong with him out.

They reached the back stairway and he led the way down the narrow passage, arguing with himself inside his head. He'd never had such a dilemma before . . . not one like this. And it annoyed him thoroughly.

* * *

Ginny's mind was racing, thinking of several things at once. She wondered if Luciushad let her leave his office alone in hopes that she would get lost in the house, if what Draco said was true. She wondered if she had ever been more furious with Draco Malfoy before.

But most of all, she wondered if she'd ever felt so badly. Oh, there had been numerous times in her life that she regretted - her first year, that time she was trying to get back at the twins for something and ended up accidentally exploding their box of money saved up for their wizard shop - but somehow this was different. She knew that she would get over Draco; she knew that. But somehow it still hurt incredibly.

How could Draco make her feel worse now than she had back in her first year?

It seemed impossible, and yet, it was happening.

She couldn't really explain it, either. That's what was frustrating her so much. How could one person who was not in her family have such an amazing hold on her?

When she'd been kissing him on his bed a few moments earlier, she felt like she was in heaven. It had been exactly what she'd been yearning for ever since the last time they'd kissed. And then she had just blurted out that she'd loved him, and he had been so cruel as to not realize how difficult it'd been for her. He had told her she didn't, as if she had just gotten some random desire to say those words to him.

As if he knew how she felt.

That's what was driving her crazy.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and began to walk down a long, narrow hall. Ginny guessed this was a part of the house guests normally didn't see. It wasn't as finely furnished as the rest of the mansion.

"My father's office is right here," Draco told her quietly over his shoulder, his tone blank. He pointed to a door slightly ahead and to the left. "So don't make a sound."

"Have I been making a sound?" she hissed at him.

Just at that moment, what Draco had obviously been dreading happened - Lucius'soffice door opened.

Ginny stopped dead, and Draco wasn't too far behind in following the suit. She watched the door as if everything had suddenly gone in slow motion . . . what would he do if he found Draco with her . . . ?

Draco managed to snap her out of seeing everything so slowly. It all seemed like on swift movement. He turned slickly, opened the nearest door, grabbed Ginny's arm, and pulled her in with him. Then he spun back, and shut the door just enough so he could see out.

Ginny stood back, an odd smell reaching her nose. It smelled like . . .

She glanced behind her, and found that there was a rather large swimming pool in the room.

. . . chlorine.

It was dark inside, but most of the room was made of windows, so moonlight lit it enough for Ginny to see the still pool. Temporarily she asked herself just how rich the Malfoys were, if they had an indoor swimming pool, but she found it didn't matter.

She returned her attention to Draco just as he closed the door completely with absolutely zero noise. He then turned to face her.

"He didn't hear you," Draco said, his face emotionless but his voice rather harsh, even if it was quiet. "He was just leaving his office and then suddenly remembered something, evidently. Now the door's open and we'll have to wait until he's gone. We can't risk it."

Ginny sneered, a trait very unlike her. "What, afraid of what your father would think if he saw us together?"

"Afraid isn't the word," he snapped. "If you'd like, I could just return to my bedroom and leave you to wander around and be found by yourself."

"You know that's not what I'd like," she retorted, crossing her arms underneath her breasts and glaring down at the pool.

"Don't talk so loud," said Draco, glancing back at the door. "His office is right next door."

"Do these windows open?" Ginny asked abruptly, gesturing towards one of them. "I could leave that way."

Draco scowled at her. "No. There's a door there -" Ginny glanced over to where he was looking and sure enough, there was a glass door leading outside that she had missed because it blended in with all the windows. " - but that's one of the most guarded doors of the house, because it's made of glass. It would take me hours to figure out how to get it to open without waking the entire place."

Ginny frowned. Great.

"So what? We just hang out by the pool until your dad shuts his door?" she asked grumpily.

"It's a nice pool," Draco shrugged, not really replying.

She tried not to glare at him. In fact, she tried not to look at him. But it was hard, when every nerve ending was tingling with a longing to touch him again.

How could she have allowed herself to fall in love with him? Of all people! Her mind should have told her heart that he wasn't the type to return the feeling. She should have known she would be hurt. But obviously she hadn't, and now she was stuck in the Malfoy Mansion. Not only could she be punished thoroughly - suspended, perhaps - if she didn't return to Hogwarts before anyone missed her, but someone might put two things together and realize it was her who had broken into Dervish and Banges.

Thatdefinitely could not happen.

With a sigh, Ginny set her clothing and broomstick down on the floor, tired of carrying them. Who knew how long Lucius was going to be.

Draco opened the door once again and peered out. A second later he announced,

"He's talking to someone . . . probably somebody from the Ministry."

Like she cared. She sighed again heavily, wishing there was a chair she could sit in.

The smell of chlorine was starting to get to her, and the thick humidity didn't help much either.

Draco must've noticed her annoyance, because he added, "If he doesn't go or close his door in five minutes, then we'll just make a run for it. Go back the way we came. All right?"

"Fine," she answered sullenly.

She was pouting, and she knew it. But at the moment she didn't have the strength to correct her attitude.

There was a long, awkward silence after that. She hadn't a clue what to say to him, and she knew he didn't want to speak with her.

No sooner had she formed those words in her mind when Draco said, "Did you honestly think we could get married in this world as well?"

It was so unexpected that Ginny couldn't hide her shock as she whirled around to face him. "Wh-what?" she stammered.

His face was stony, his arms crossed casually over his chest. Leaning back against the door, he replied. "You so much as said so." He hesitated slightly. "By telling me what you did."

At this, Ginny had to smile coldly. "Can't even say it, Draco? Can't even say that I told you I loved you?"

His expression didn't change.

"I didn't want to," she said bitterly. "I knew you wouldn't ever feel the same way about me."

He squinted his eyes, and raised his eyebrow slightly. "Then why did you come?"

Fair question. She knew why, but she didn't know how to tell him. She couldn't say that she had needed to come, hoping that there was a slight chance he might want her back. Couldn't say that she would've never forgiven herself if she didn't make sure he didn't love her back.

And she definitely couldn't say that she missed the stunning sight of him.

He stared at her hard, waiting for her to reply, and she glanced briefly at his silver hair, which was falling over his forehead and into his eyes. She looked at his smooth, bare chest, and remembered how it felt when she'd run her hands across it. She then returned to his gaze and shrugged carelessly, as if it didn't matter why she had come.

Draco seemed to glare at her, his gray eyes glittering, and he strode around her to the edge of the pool. He looked down at it for a minute, clearly thinking before he turned back to her.

"I would like to clue you in on something, Ginny," Draco began, looking as if he were about to give a lecture. "Every time we are in the same ten-mile radius, we manage to bother the hell out of each other. Your six brothers hate me. I hate them. My father would probably commit suicide from the shame it would cause him if I ever even hinted that I wanted to be in a relationship with you.

"That brings me back to the original point - we always fight. What kind of couple would we be if we just fought over every little thing?" he demanded.

"We could work it out, Draco," she said, making it sound like that was the most obvious thing.

"We could," he agreed, "if we could stop arguing long enough."

"We don't argue all the time!" she insisted.

"Right." He smirked a bit icily. "Let's count the times we haven't fought. When I saved your arse from those gypsies. And when we're snogging. That's about . . . what, ten percent of the time we spend together not arguing?"

But it's the snogging that made me fall in love with you, she thought, blushing.

Actually, that wasn't entirely true. It was the kissing that made her notice Draco as something other than a prat. She had fallen in love with him. Even his sarcastic remarks, his cold smiles that never reached his eyes, and his snappy replies. It was him that she wanted, and she was willing to risk a couple of stupid, pointless rows for it.

Draco wasn't, obviously.

It was then she was struck with a sudden thought. Why was Draco trying to explain this to her? Why was he even bothering at all? He could easily get her out of the house without saying a single word to her. She didn't need to know why they wouldn't work out. She knew what he would say. It was useless.

So then maybe . . . maybe Draco was trying to convince himself just as much as her.

Maybe he had something that resembled positive feelings for her, and was trying to prove to himself that he didn't need to feel anything.

It was an odd thought, but somehow, it seemed to make sense. Perhaps Draco was . . . scared.

"Why did you save me from the gypsies?" Ginny shot back, jerking away from her contemplations. "You could've just left me there and - poof! - problemsolved. No Ginny, no getting married to Ginny."

"Honestly, Ginny," he said irritably. "You'd really think I'd just walk away and leave you there?"

"Why did you follow me in the first place?" she fired.

He mimicked her, shrugging as if it didn't matter.

Trying to control her temper, she crossed her arms once again and sighed through her nose. "All right, Draco," she said, without thinking. "Just say it."

"What?" he demanded.

She narrowed her eyes at him a moment, then dropped her arms to her sides. "Just say that you hate me. Go on. I'm listening. The moment you say it, I'm gone. I'll never bother you again. I promise."

His face toughened, his eyes blank and frosty, and his mouth hardened. "All right, Ginny. I hate you."

She blinked, stunned, and searched his face for signs of expression. And she saw it . . . in his eyes flickered something she recognized instantly as regret. Maybe pain, if she dared to think such.

She wondered why she didn't believe what he said. She wondered why she didn't think for a second he meant that he hated her. She wondered why it felt like he had said that he loved her.

"Liar," she accused gently.

He searched her eyes for a long moment, and then said softly, "You know me too well."

It seemed like she had blinked, and suddenly his lips were on hers and kissing her hard. The minute his tongue was in her mouth, she forgot everything they were talking about, and she responded by pressing her body into his, wanting to be as close to him as possible, never wanting to let him go . . .

Ginny had forgotten that Draco had been standing right on the pool ledge, and had not realized she was leaning into him so hard. He bent back slightly, and lost his balance.

He broke away just before he started to fall.

And, being in his arms, she was pulled in with him.

She let out a tiny shriek of surprise as she toppled in on top of him. The water was rather cool, though not shockingly so. She felt Draco underneath her, wiggling in the water, and lifted her head out of the surface. Her wet hair plastered to her face, she floundered about a little while before her feet found the bottom. Draco surfaced just a moment after, tossing his own hair out of his eyes, and looking extremely annoyed.

Whoops, she thought, feeling a bit stupid. She had been so completely lost in his touch that she had completely forgotten their surroundings. That's exactly what he did to her . . . he made her forget everything and only focus on him.

Draco stood fully in the water, and it came up to his waist. His frustration seemed to vanish as he watched her dunk her hair in the water so she could get it out of her face.

"I can see through your top," he pointed out, grinning at her.

Ginny looked down, and saw he was right. Her white shirt was clinging to her and her bra and skin were easily seen. Before she had the chance to feel embarrassed, Draco had his hand on the back of her head and was pulling her face to his for another kiss.

As glorious as his skin had felt before in his room, it felt even better now that it was wet. She subconsciously ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, thinking vaguely that she would never get tired of touching him. She also thought of how wonderfully their bodies seemed to mold together, how perfect it felt to be plastered against him.

If they were so wrong for each other, then why did everything feel so right?

Draco'sfingers were hiking her clingy, dripping shirt up and his touch seemed to burn imprints in her skin. It was like he was branding her with soft fire.

He tore his lips from hers first, and rested his forehead against hers. He placed his hands on his hips and then said, slightly breathless, "How could we ever make this work?"

"We'll figure it out," she said fiercely. "Do you see what I mean now? It doesn't matter that we fight most of the time. Whenever we don't fight, it feels like this. And I'm willing to risk everything to feel like this, with you. I don't care about your father or my brothers. They'll get over it."

When he didn't reply, she reached up and touched his cheek with her fingertip for a second before dropping it back to the water.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Draco," she said mockingly. "I don't want to get married, either. But I'm just saying . . . we could make it work." She pressed her mouth against his firmly for a moment. "I think it would be worth it," she added in a whisper.

Even though he was so close, she could still see him smirk. "Of course you would."

She chose not to take that as an insult. In fact, she wasn't sure how to take it.

Draco reached up and took a clump of her wet hair in his hand, stroking it with his thumb. "I think your hair is both the best and worst part of you," he told her.

She pulled away to stare at him. Now that she would take as an insult. "Excuse me?"

He smiled just a small smile. "It's gorgeous, but . . . everyone in your damn family has it. That's why it's bad."

She relaxed and laughed. "I agree with you. Well, at least with the last part."

Then there was silence, only this time, it wasn't awkward. Ginny rested her cheek against his shoulder, hugging him tightly around his waist. She never knew that one person could make her feel like this; couldn't believe that she was so comfortable with Draco . . . but it was happening, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Draco sighed heavily. "Well," he drawled. "I suppose we'd better get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

She lifted her head up to look at him, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "It is?"

"If you think telling our families about us being in a relationship is going to be an easy thing to do, then I really think you're delusional," he smirked.

Ginny smiled broadly. "We don't have to tell them," she said. "I mean, they don't have to know right away, do they?"

He squinted at her suspiciously. "Are you saying keep us a secret?"

She shrugged, trying to look serious. "It wouldn't be that hard. You could meet me at Hogsmeade occasionally. Tell your dad you're going somewhere else. My family would never find out, as long as we didn't let ourselves be seen."

And then he was smiling at her, smiling warmly and with his entire face. It seemed to make him twenty times more beautiful, and it caused her breath to catch in her throat.

She would never grow tired of touching him and looking at him. It would just never, ever bore her, and she was certain of that.

"You Gryffindors can come up with decent plans after all," he told her finally. "All right, Ginny. You win. We keep it a secret."

She couldn't seem to stop grinning, but then Draco was kissing her once again, and she found that she could. Sliding her arms around his neck, she once again plastered her wet body against his, her mind blissfully blank.

Draco's hands roamed up and down her sides, down underwater and around her rear.

He cut off their kiss, and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

"Yes, I'd have to say you're definitely not a man," he murmured.

She giggled at that, well aware she sounded childish but she didn't care at all. Draco leaned forward once more, but instead of kissing her, he put his lips near her ear.

"It's a long flight back to Hogwarts," he whispered, his warm breath causing goose bumps all over her body. "There's plenty of room here."

Ginny conflicted with herself inside her head. If she wasn't back at Hogwarts by morning, they would notice her absence and alert her parents. Then she'd have to explain where she was, and why she'd stolen a broomstick from the shed. She didn't want to do that.

But Draco's invitation was far too wonderful to pass up.

"Draco," she replied back into his ear, "I would love to stay with you."

She wasn't going to get much sleep tonight, and she knew that for a fact. They would have their wedding night, only this one would not have any witnesses.

It would be just the two of them.

* * *

¹Jumper is a sweater, to all my American readers.

A/N: Since I'm evil, I'll just allow you all to imagine the D/G smut.

As I said before, there is something else coming after this, so this isn't quite the end. Still, thank everyone who has read this far, and thank you all for such wonderful reviews. You don't know how much it means to me to hear from you all.

Thanks immensely to:

Kimby, Lillian, AVK, aweasley, chocagirl23, Serena Black, Dinglefritz, lovely lulu, hopelesslydevoted2HP, Morwen Langan, ElfinKat, LilyAyl, Frangelicah, Gin The Gemini, Giova, pepsibabe2, DaZLinDZ, Sonya Rose Jamie Potter, Mel*Star, wild prefect, Lizzie Malfoy, Kara Kedavra, Rose Fay, waterlily12, Lily Waters, annabellesue, Fatema, little*, Shinigami Black Yuy, Aafro Man Ziegod, Augurey, Erika Sullivan, Amanda Mancini, Unregistered, Unregistered 2, Jill Pole, jam Jackson, and Vivacious Vixen.

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