Nox Noctis

"Harry, that's Sirius," Hermione's watchful eyes caught the familiar form of Harry's godfather seated among the teachers. "He looks a lot healthier than the last time I saw him. What is he doing here anyway?"

"I know," Harry answered as they took their seat among the 7th years at the Gryffindor table. "He's our new Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"What about Hagrid? Dumbledore sacked him after all?" Ron asked, his brows furrowing into a deep frown. "Hagrid didn't bring any dragons or anything relatively dangerous into the school last year."

"Hagrid is on a year-long leave. He's in Beauxbatons now with Madam Maxime," Harry answered with a small shrug. "He deserves a break from those Slytherins."

"But Harry, why haven't we heard anything like that from you?" Hermione screeched and folded her arms in frustration. "I would liked to say goodbye to Hagrid at the very least."

"Well, Hedwig is always sending letters to Hogwarts and I don't have an extra owl... Besides, I really meant to tell you yesterday, but it just slipped my mind when Malfoy turned up for his regular troublemaking," Harry apologized profusely, mentally smacking himself for being so forgetful over something as important as this.

"It's fine, Harry. We can always send an owl to Hagrid sometime tomorrow," Hermione sighed and rested her elbows on the table.

"Why can't the Sorting Hat hurry up? I'm terribly hungry!" Ron grumbled beside Harry and shot a disgruntled look at his shiny silver platter. "One more song and I'll be dancing stark naked."

"Ron, the Sorting ceremony is important for First Years," Hermione replied amidst the thunderous clapping and cheering at the Gryffindor table as a young 11-year old walked over to join them shyly. "We only get to watch it once a year."

Ron rolled his eyes and continued to watch the Sorting ceremony. Harry merely smiled at his best friend's indignant comments about the long awaited Feast, and also, he wasn't hungry himself. Harry's mind was not on the talking Hat, but rather, his gaze was focused on Professor Dumbledore who was sitting at the topmost place in the Hall. Many thoughts were going through his mind at the moment, and Harry had never felt this worried before. Something was not right, his instincts told him.

Sneaking a glance at the Slytherin table, Harry almost sighed in relief when he saw Draco Malfoy whispering to his two block-headed goons, later only to have them laughing hysterically. *Must be something nasty, knowing Malfoy,* Harry thought sourly, but he was secretly rejoicing that at least his nemesis wasn't looking back at the Gryffindor table maliciously. The relief Harry felt instantly after knowing that Malfoy was still in Hogwarts was unwarranted for. Why would he feel happy around a Malfoy? More like annoyance, perhaps.

Harry didn't know and didn't want to know either. *Either you're already insane from stupid nightmares with Voldemort in them, or you're very close to St. Mungo's Ward for the Mentally Unstable,* a voice whispered sternly in his head and deep inside, Harry feared that he was agreeing to that statement. Everything had been so strange over the past few weeks, Harry felt. This was something else he couldn't bear to share with anyone. No, not even Sirius, his trusted Godfather, or his best friends.

Recently, the ghosts of his past had been visiting him. It was so livid, his mother's screams, they rang in his head until they fade away gradually with the last threads of his mother's life. At one time, Harry thought they would never fade, for it was the only precious memory he had of his parents, Lily and James Potter. If he were to look into the Mirror of Erised once again, he would never doubt that his parents were going to be there in the reflection, standing by his sides.

There was only one thing Harry had ever truly wanted in his life, and it was to have a family to call his own. When it was Christmas, he would have parents to welcome him back from school and a place to go home to. Privet Drive was never his home. Never.

He wanted happy memories of his childhood too, simply because he had none. The worst thing in life was to look back in the past and find nothing worthy of smiling at. Then, there were little snippets of his life before Hogwarts flashing before him every time he closed his eyes. His first birthday he could remember resulted in him spending the entire day locked in a closet as the Dursleys threw Dudley a grand party complete with 30 presents of varying sizes. After that, his first day in a Muggle school was a lost cause. Aunt Petunia made it clear to his class teacher that he was autistic. True to a word, he was alienated by every one of his classmates and Dudley took pride in playing a game named 'Rub-a-Dub Harry in Mud'.

If the name was horrid, never mind the actual game.

Dudley could be incredibly creative and innovative when it came to bullying. It was a wonder really, since Dudley's report cards were always splotched with red ink.

Harry snorted in laughter when he remembered Hagrid telling him that he was famous. And also, he was rich. He had a vault full of gold in Gringotts. So what if he was rich? He was just another poor little rich kid.

At the thought of that, Harry shot Draco Malfoy another wayward glance. By the way he understood his nemesis, Draco Malfoy wasn't so much different from him after all. Well, except that the Slytherin still had parents, not to mention an extremely critical father. Sometimes, Harry wondered how he would grow up to be, if his parents had raised him instead of the Dursleys. Would he still be the Harry Potter sitting here today? Or rather, would he be Sorted into Slytherin, and would his best friend be Draco Malfoy instead of Ron Weasley?

These reflections left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Leaving the Malfoy issue aside, Harry turned his attention to the scene unfolding before him. All the First Years had taken their turns putting on the Sorting Hat and Professor McGonagall was already back in her seat. Professor Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat loudly as McGonagall tapped her wineglass with a silver spoon. The entire student body was subdued and everyone sat silently in their respective seats, eager to let Dumbledore finish his annual opening speech and get on with the feast.

"I'm pleased to see that Hogwarts has once again opened for the school term. First of all, I welcome the First Years to the Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry." A loud round of applause came for the blushing juniors.

"Also, let us welcome Professor Black who will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures since Professor Hagrid has taken a long vacation to visit Beauxbatons." Sirius stood up briefly to smile and wave at the students; his shoulder length black hair was combed back neatly as a burst of giggles swept through a group of Ravenclaw girls next table. Harry, Hermione and Ron clapped harder than everyone else, pleased that Harry's godfather had finally returned to Hogwarts, as a legal wizard.

"The selection of new fifth year prefects will commence at the end of this week. This year, the teachers have decided that the Head Boy and Head Girl will only be announced two weeks after the new prefects are chosen, and prefects will get a chance to cast their vote for their preferred candidate. As for Quidditch Captains, I'm sure your respective teams made their choices last year." At the Gryffindor table, all of the Quidditch players began thumping Harry on his back with murmurs of 'Congratulations!'. Waiting for the clapping to die down, Dumbledore continued his speech, albeit in a graver tone.

"There is one thing I want to share and remind all of you of what the truth is, Voldemort is back. With him back in the Wizarding Community, I wish to let each young witch and wizard seated in this dining hall know that the threat is very real. It is not an illusion or a lie any longer," Dumbledore paused for a slight moment, his bright blue eyes gazing at every face that looked back at him eagerly.

"Then, two years ago, a dear student departed from our numbers forever. We will never know when exactly Voldemort shall make a true comeback, but remember that together we stand united and Evil will never have a chance to devour any of our souls," Dumbledore spoke with the authority that Harry had always admired in the old Headmaster. "Until then, let the feast begin and may this school year be as good as the previous ones."

With a wave of Dumbledore's wand, a magnificent spread appeared before their eyes. The bronze jugs were filled to the brim with pumpkin juice, while delicious treacle puddings and meat pies were stacked in neat clusters along the four long House tables. Just as Harry was about to tuck in the food, he caught Sirius's eye and the handsome man gave him a wink. Harry smiled back gratefully and turned back to his own meal.

But then, Harry didn't quite see the venomous glare Severus Snape threw at Sirius Black at that very moment, nor did he notice Sirius' smirk when the two teachers exchanged eye contact.

Harry did not only miss the poisonous looks both of the feuding teachers shot at each other, he didn't notice Ginny getting up from her seat to leave the feast earlier too.

Worst still, Harry did not know Draco Malfoy had left the Slytherin table at the same time.

Slipping out quietly through the grandly decorated doors, Ginny was sure that nobody would miss her in the Great Hall. It was so much more relaxed here, compared to mingling among hundreds of noisy students. She had never been a big fan of huge parties or high attendance gatherings.

Ginny moved silently along the long dark corridors of the castle, only jumping occasionally at the clank of polished armor propped up against the stone walls. The entire Hogwarts population was still in the Great Hall enjoying the first feast of the school year. Reaching a colored glass window that marked the corridor a dead-end, Ginny leaned against the wooden frame of the semi-oval opening. Her fingers touched fragile glass gently and pushed it forward, letting a pleasant cool breeze wash over her. Ginny drew a deep breath of the fresh night air and relaxed to the breathtaking scenery lying far beyond the window.

A full moon was high up in the sky, its serene silver light illuminating the Hogwarts grounds with a shimmering sheen. The Quidditch pitch was at the far end of the school and beyond it was the Forbidden Forest. Leaning out the window, Ginny closed her eyes, feeling the soft wind caress her face and tease tendrils of her red hair.

During her fourth and fifth year, she had found this deserted corridor by accident. Since there were rarely any students passing by, this passageway had turned into her private corner in the entire of Hogwarts. Even Filch the Caretaker and Mrs. Norris didn't bother to check here always, and Ginny had spent long nights here, all by herself. When she was unhappy, or when she couldn't tell anyone her problems, she would come here. Somehow, the tranquil setting always managed to calm her down.

Ginny was confused. Very confused.

And there was nobody she could talk to.

Self-consciously, a hand went up to feel the pendant she used to wear around her neck with a silver chain. Missing the familiar cool touch of the gold locket, she sighed despondently. She had forgotten that Draco Malfoy had taken it from her in the apothecary.

Everything had changed so much since she arrived in Hogwarts. She used to be that outspoken and brave girl under Authur and Molly Weasley's watchful eyes, but the Ginny Weasley now was the shy, awkward and quiet girl who hid in the library. She was the Ginny Weasley who had no real friends. She was also the Ginny Weasley who tried so hard to fit in with the rest of the Gryffindor girls.

In the end, she was just Ron's baby sister.

Her love life had been non-existent. It had been six long years since she had set her eyes on the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Harry was not the handsome type, nor was he the charming kind who would sweep any girl off her feet. In fact, Harry could be a little boring. Before she first saw Harry in King's Cross Station, she imagined him to be tall, strong and heroic looking. Then, she was infatuated with him after hearing all those wonderful things he did as a baby, and then as a First Year in Hogwarts.

Ginny felt that she was in love with him, and that feeling was so strong. The worst thing was, Harry wouldn't even look twice at her.

What was love then?

A Muggle poet once defined love as an elixir that could make a person live, or die from the lack of it.

Then came Draco Malfoy. Three days ago, his name would never cross her mind, but now, it was different. Why didn't recollections of her dreams come when Harry rescued her from Malfoy? Or, when she was in the train sitting opposite of Harry? When he smiled at her, Ginny felt her heart leap, but it was not the same sensation she felt when Malfoy held her in that brief encounter in the Potions shop. With Harry, it was innocent and sweet. With Draco, it was exhilarating and dangerous. It was... carnal, the desire burning in her, the moment his body pressed against hers.

Animalistic.

That was the only word to describe those sensations. Ginny felt her cheeks burn as those dreams replayed themselves over and over again in her conscious mind. Those soft lips had kissed her so passionately that it seemed so real, so true. The soft brush of his lips against her ear in the Potions shop was electrifying, so that she nearly lost consciousness at the very touch of him on her skin.

Ginny stopped herself. Dangerous? Carnal? Malfoy? Having erotic dreams starring herself and Malfoy? No, it must be Harry, Ginny assured herself, as she felt her cheeks tingle with a deep blush. She must be going insane. How could she 'even' be thinking of Draco Malfoy in the first place?

For all she knew, Draco Malfoy was the most selfish git to walk the earth since Lucius Malfoy, whom had constantly sneered and ridiculed her father since his schooldays. Ron's vivid description of Malfoy as a bouncing white ferret didn't help too. The incident in the apothecary yesterday was not pleasant either; she had bruised her elbow badly after Malfoy released her sleeve suddenly. To top it, he was always stirring up trouble for both Harry and Ron.

"I don't need a self-centered, arrogant and annoying git like Malfoy to make my life more miserable than it already is!" Ginny shouted angrily through the window, her hair tousled by the sudden gust of wind. Feeling the knot in her stomach easing a little, she exhaled slowly and closed her eyes.

"Who is a self-centered, arrogant and annoying git again?" a male voice drawled softly in her ear and a pair of strong arms encircled her waist. Ginny suddenly found herself leaning against a firm chest as his bodily heat seeped through the thick layers of robes which were separating them.

There was only one single person in the whole wide world that could make an insult sound like a compliment, and he was Draco Malfoy. There was no need to confirm his presence by opening her eyes. A slight hint of fresh lemon pervaded her senses again, driving away her rationale.

*Malfoy has to be the male version of a veela,* Ginny thought weakly as his hold grew tighter. "Malfoy, what do you want?" Ginny protested softly, and never quite asked him to release her, no matter how much her self-respect was kicking and screaming inside her head.

"Just wanted to spend some quality time together," Draco whispered coolly, his soft breath rustling stray strands of her hair. "We should get to understand each other better."

"I don't even know you," Ginny replied as her lower lip trembled in pure daze and she reached down to remove Draco's hands. Suddenly, Draco's hands were away from her waist and his body was no longer pressing against hers. She turned around quickly and found herself staring into steel-gray eyes. Under the moonlight, his high cheekbones were prominent and locks of his silver blonde hair fell in silky sheens over his forehead. Ginny held her breath. She had never seen Malfoy from such a close angle before this. *He looks like a marble statue lovingly sculptured by skillful hands, except that he is breathing and very much alive,* Ginny thought pensively, but the thought dissipated quickly as a mental image of Harry flitted across her mind.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, a 7th year Hogwarts prefect from Slytherin," Draco answered, a playful smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "You know me now..."

"I... I'm Virginia Weasley, a 6th year Gryffindor. Most people call me Ginny," Ginny began shakily, blushing helplessly under Draco's simple words. Of course she knew he was Draco Malfoy! What game was he trying to play now? With a trembling voice, Ginny forced herself to look at his face. "Dra... Draco, I... uh... I have go back to the Great Hall now... Ron... Ron will be looking for me."

"Oh? But that Weasley sees you up close every day. That is why I have to watch you from afar. I never have a chance to talk to you in person since your brother is always somewhere near," Draco whispered into her ear and stroked her cheek gently with a finger. "I have my prefects duty and Slytherin housemates to watch out too."

"But why did you humiliate my family in the Potions shop? You sneered at them, Malfoy. You said that I taint you and you need bicorn serum to sanitize your hands after holding me," Ginny hissed suddenly as the unpleasant memory flashed past her conscious. The redhead then stepped away from the taller boy until she hit the wall behind her. Ginny's heart barely registered a small leap of triumph when Draco sighed softly.

"Perhaps I didn't know what else to say to you," the Slytherin drawled nonchalantly and walked towards her, his hands reaching out to enfold her in his embrace again. "I just had a sudden impulse to approach you when I saw you." Ginny shuddered and felt herself melting in his hold. Draco Malfoy actually sounded... regretful, Ginny thought and felt his hands moving across her back in gentle circles.

"Dra... Draco, please let me go... Ron may see us here anytime," Ginny whispered, her voice betraying her poorly hidden anxiety at the Slytherin's sudden advances. "Har... Harry may be with him too!" At the end of the sentence, a tear rolled down her cheek as the youngest Weasley fought to keep the years of frustration and accumulated low self-esteem breaking through the barriers she erected around them. It was strange, to hear those words from Draco Malfoy, of all people, instead of Harry Potter.

"Just because Potter never looked twice at you doesn't that mean I don't," Draco answered evenly. "I'm not blind, Ginny." The redhead felt a shiver run her a spine at the way Draco mentioned her name. His natural aristocratic inflection present in his voice added an original twist to her name, and Ginny was starting to blush again when his gray eyes locked hers in an intense gaze. Slowly, Draco reached up to brush away the moist trail the single tear had left on her face.

It was a scene that Ginny had rehearsed a thousand times in her mind, except that it was always Harry who had said these words instead of Draco.

"Draco, why me?" Ginny started but a slender finger was placed across her lips. An internal conflict was building up within Ginny, and the tangle of indefinable emotions was getting so bad that she wasn't even sure she ought to slap him for touching her or kiss him passionately. *No, this has to be a dream! It can't be real... Can't be real... Ginny Weasley, get of hold of yourself!* the trembling girl screamed internally, but Draco's mesmerizing gaze had frozen her in place.

"You don't have to know why," Draco brushed off her question with a short laugh. "Do not worry, we'll get to know each better in time." Then, his arms were gone from her waist. The next moment, Draco's arms were above her head, draping an elegant object hanging from a chain around her neck. Ginny felt the familiar weight of the pendant on her chest and gasped. Draco reached behind her neck and locked the clasp of the chain.

Lifting Ginny's chin with a finger, Draco looked straight into her eyes, his gray ones alive with emotions. Bending down, the older boy inched closer to her until she could feel his breath caressing her face. Feeling the distance closing rapidly between her and Draco, the redhead then closed her eyes in anticipation for Draco's silky lips against hers. *Dear Merlin, I'm going to snog a Malfoy,* Ginny thought helplessly, intoxicated by the dizzying soft scent of his skin.

But it never came.

Suddenly, the comforting warmth of Draco's embrace was gone. Ginny opened her eyes in disappointment and saw Draco standing five feet away from her. "I'll be waiting for you in the Potions classroom next Sunday evening," Draco spoke softly and turned around to walk away.

"Draco..." Ginny called out, but he was already too far to hear her. A million questions swam in her head but she was unable to answer any of them.

*Why, Draco? Why a Weasley?*

*Why me?*

Steady footsteps echoed down the hallway as a well-built figure strode along it. Stopping in front of a still painting portraying a vase of flowers, he kneeled down.

"One... Two... Three... Four... Five..." he counted and his fingers stopped at the fifth brick directly below the gilded frame of the painting. Carefully, he tapped the six bricks surrounding the single brick he identified. Then, a low rumbling sound was heard and the small section of the wall opened to reveal a small hole.

He reached inside and groped around before his fingers closed around a wooden box. Hoisting it out, he wiped away the thin film of dust on the lid. Producing a bronze key from his sleeves, he fitted it into the lock of the box and a soft 'click' sounded as he rotated the slender piece of metal. Opening the box, he looked wistfully at the small collection of letters and the thick book lying within them.

Placing the box down on the cold stone floor, he picked up the first letter in the pile and proceeded to unfold it. "Lumos," he whispered and held up his wand. A spark of light lit up the tip of his wand, throwing a dim glow down the narrow passageway. With trembling fingers, he lifted up the letter to the bright vicinity his wand was producing. Rows of neat handwriting lined the crisp parchment as his eyes ran over those words he had once read after that painful incident, an incident which changed his life forever.

Replacing the letter into the wooden box, he lifted up the leather bound book with such care and love that even the most meticulous wizard would have shied away in shame. Blowing softly at the cover, intricate golden letters appeared under the thin layer of fine dust. He smiled wistfully at the book. It was a gift from Professor Dumbledore himself, and he treasured it like his life.

Turning the cover over, his eyes glistened with unshed tears as he gazed at his memories playing before him. It seemed like so long ago when he had first spoken to her during the Easter ball, when he had first held her in his arms in a dance, and when they shared their first kiss under the ancient oak tree beside the Quidditch pitch. Each picture in the book told a unique story, and every one of them immortalized the precious memories of his years at Hogwarts.

"Don't you know how much I love you? It's too late for you to know now..." he whispered hoarsely and pressed the moving picture of the redhead to his lips. The girl in the page smiled back at him innocently. Ever so innocent that it hurt to think about her now. Blinking his eyes dry, he swept his hair back swiftly and gazed at the photo again, his mind far from the present.

He was once so close to death that he thought he might never have the chance to retrieve those precious memories contained in a simple wooden box. When he finally returned here, he couldn't bring himself to take it out of its hiding place immediately.

But he had the box in his hands now.

"Miow..." a cat purred softly, making him snap back into reality. He had heard the purring, although it was still quite far away. Tearing his eyes away, he flipped the cover over to close the book. He knew any moment Filch might come stalking down the corridor.

He must not be seen here.

Placing the book back into the box, he clamped the wooden lid on and stood up with it under his arm. "Nox," he mouthed softly and the corridor was thrown into total darkness again.

He should get some rest now.

The past was always best left behind.

Running fingers through his silver-blonde hair, Draco strode down the corridor leading to the Slytherin dungeons, his lips twisted in a disgusted sneer. He had left Ginny Weasley there, and he was plainly infuriated by those horrible words that had come out of his mouth moments earlier.

"Draco..." a female voice called out seductively and a pair of hands wrapped around his arm tightly. "Where did you go just now? You left before dinner was over."

"Go away, Pansy," the Slytherin snapped and tried to jerk his arm out of her firm grip. The heavy girl pouted angrily and her hold grew stronger instead. "Do I really need to shove my wand down your throat and shout 'Petrificus'?" Draco growled dangerously.

"But Draco, it's our first night back he..." Pansy didn't get to finish her sentence. Draco simply threw her an annoyed glare and shook off her hands violently. Without even glancing backwards at Pansy's pained gasp, the young Malfoy ran down the stairs leading to the Slytherin dungeons. Stopping in front of the portrait of the Wizened Wizard, Draco shouted the password (Lacera Subucula!) to the old man sitting in the painting. The aged wizard narrowed his eyes and puffed out a ring of smoke from his pipe before swinging forward to reveal an entrance behind it.

Climbing through the opening, Draco was thankful that the Slytherin common room was devoid of students. Snape had made sure everyone follow the 'no lights on' policy after nine o-clock and all of the Slytherins had gone to bed save Pansy who had patiently waited for him out there. Pansy was a major headache for him and she had been pestering him to explore their relationship in depth since last year. That was something Draco had blatantly refused to do, and it was not because he had some other girl in mind. The reason was simple enough, he couldn't bring himself to do anything further than to kiss the square-jawed girl and have her coming back for more.

Draco sighed internally and sat down onto an overstuffed green sofa. A fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace reminded him of 'her' as the golden-red tongues of the flame licked the ashen logs. What had he done tonight? He gritted his teeth resentfully at a particularly horrible moment earlier this evening. Yes, he did the impossible. He ran after a dirty Weasley in the middle of a school feast and said a lot of self-humiliating words to her. *How horrible, to have talked to a ragged Weasley in such a manner,* Draco thought, a corner of his mouth twitching in disgust. *I'd rather streak through Gryffindor Tower in my birthday suit than to do an encore performance.*

Worst of all, he had told her a humiliating lie about him watching her from afar and wanting to approach her. Draco gripped the stuffed armrest so strongly that the fabric threatened to tear. Breathing in deeply, he counted silently to ten and felt the tight knot in his stomach loosen slightly. If Draco Malfoy wasn't apt at controlling his emotions, who was?

Like it or not, he did achieve his goal of getting Virginia Weasley to meet him in the empty Potions classroom next Sunday evening, Draco reasoned. It was well worth the effort of catching that filthy Weasley by surprise. Very soon, he might be able to complete the task that the Dark Lord had assigned him.

With his fine eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Draco yelled 'Accio!' and waited for a moment. A leaf of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink came sailing over and he caught them gracefully by picking them out of the air. Smoothing out the parchment, the young man dipped the quill tip into the bottle of ink. "Dear Father," Draco breathed out as he scribbled across the clean surface in his neat handwriting.

Sighing again, Draco pondered for a moment on how to begin the letter he was going to write. Should he regurgitate the details of Weasley's reactions when he held her by the window under the moonlight? Or should he write about how that dirty Weasley thought he was going to snog her senseless when she closed her eyes? *Fine, I'll just send Father a torrid Muggle romance novel with an outrageous shag scene,* Draco thought aimlessly. *Perhaps I can even wear my ripped shirt and paste a picture of myself on the front cover.*

Pushing that stupid notion aside, he dipped his quill into the inkpot again and started to write about his apparent success with Arthur Weasley's daughter this evening, but strategically left out the explicit details. His father did not need to know everything, Draco decided.

At last satisfied with the final outcome of the letter, Draco stood up and climbed out of the portrait hole. His owl was in the owllery upstairs and he needed to send the parchment to Malfoy Manor before dawn. Yes, the letter had to reach Lucius before next weekend or risk him coming to Hogwarts to check on him.

The sooner the letter was sent, the better.

A sudden glare of light filled with small chamber by the flame from a single matchstick. Dark eyes gazed at the neat rows of framed wizard photos placed across the walls. Each picture showed the same girl, a very pretty witch with expressive eyes.

Yes, those eyes were the one that made her so outstanding from the other girls. She was the only person in the entire world who did not tease him or call him names. She was his friend, his first real friend.

She was someone who had understood him, someone who had treated him sincerely when the others thought he was a good target to bully. Pushing the sleeve of his robes up, he touched a long scar running along the length of his arm, feeling the rough surface of the healed skin.

It was a fateful day, in his Sixth Year, when his cauldron melted during a mixed Potions class with the Fifth Years. The Glass Potion he had been brewing exploded in his face, and he secretly suspected that one of his bullies had placed an extra ingredient into his cauldron when he was not looking - a fire snap. He was bleeding profusely from a cut caused by a flying shard of glass that had solidified and one entire side of his robes was soaked with a dark red liquid.

When his sight was blurring from the sudden loss of blood, he could hear taunts and jeers from his bullies and the rest of the class were howling in laughter. *"Look! He couldn't even brew a simple Glass Potion properly!"* one classmate called out loudly. He could only grit his teeth in anger and humiliation. When he tried to stand up, he discovered that his limbs were too weak and the entire world was spinning before his eyes.

Then, she was beside him, her beautiful eyes looking straight into his. Tapping her wand on his injured arm, she had removed the miniscule glass shards and the bleeding had begun to slow. Ripping the sleeve of her own robes, she had wrapped the cloth around his arm as a makeshift bandage before helping him to the hospital wing.

*"You will be fine. I know you will,"* he remembered her saying. It was the first time anyone had shown him mercy.

He gritted his teeth when unpleasant memories came floating into his mind next. *"Are you out of your mind? She is one of the Gryffindors! She is even romantically involved with one of the Four Marauders!"* a fellow Slytherin, Stephan Flint, hissed at him.

It was all a very long story to tell, but he remembered every detail with such precision that had haunted him for the last two decades. He knew she was seeing someone else long before he had first spoken to her.

Then it happened.

It was at a Quidditch match when they had blurred the lines between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. One thing led to another. Deep down in his heart, he knew had found the girl who he would give up everything in this whole wide world for her.

When the matchstick burnt out, he struck another. Another and another he struck, as he walked slowly around the small chamber to look deeply into each image of the girl. Reaching up a hand to touch the smiling face of the girl, he squeezed his eyes shut at those painful memories that had been embedded deeply in his mind.

So kind, so pretty, so innocent, she was. He loved her with all his heart and soul, and she had loved him back unconditionally. So pure was the love they shared, that she was the only precious happy memory he ever had.

When he lost her to them, he had thought of dying, but he could not let them get the last laugh. No! Never! The sweet smile of hers had kept him alive through the darkest days of his life, and he had not doubted for the slightest bit that she would continue to be a part of him, regardless of time and space that separated them now.

He knew that she would be his one and only true love.

He dropped the match he was holding onto the stone floor and watched it burn out. When the small room was engulfed in darkness once more, he turned around to walk away softly, his long robes sweeping the ground.

Soft brown eyes gazed dreamily at the full moon resting in the ocean of stars. Ginny lay in her bed, her fiery red hair fanned out over the pillow as she gazed through the opened window opposite her bed. What happened tonight was strange, yet wonderful. A young man had come to her in the most romantic way possible, and he had spoken words that she would never imagine a wizard to say to her.

*"I'm Draco Malfoy, a 7th year Hogwarts prefect from Slytherin,"* Ginny played the sentence in her mind over and over again. There was no trace of scorn or contempt in the Slytherin's voice. She could only hear him making a good effort to know her and introduce himself to her, and undeniably, he had chosen the prefect moment to speak to her. What else could be more romantic than meeting a young man under the silvery moonlight in a deserted corridor?

What surprised Ginny most was Draco's attitude. He was so different from how Ron described him, or what she had seen through all these years at Hogwarts. The Malfoys were well known for their pure-blood supremacist beliefs, and they hated Muggles and their half-blood offspring with a passion. From afar, Draco Malfoy was a typical Slytherin. He was a spiteful, mean, arrogant and hateful prat who couldn't care less about hurting other people.

He had been so different tonight. He was sensitive and playful, in his signature arrogant way. He was not the evil prefect that so many Gryffindor 6th Years feared. When he held her in his arms, there was already a revelation in her heart. She was a blossoming young woman, not the genderless person everyone around her assumed.

Perhaps, magic was at work tonight.

Perhaps, she had been too lonely for the past few years.

Perhaps, dear Merlin had pitied her and let someone else notice her, Malfoy or not.

Ginny couldn't help noticing the irony of this sudden growth of events. Malfoys and Weasleys didn't mix, like fire and ice. It was not that Ginny had never had a bad experience with the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy himself had slipped the cursed diary into her books and consequently placed her in mortal danger.

Ginny Weasley had once been a smart and outgoing girl who had crowds of friends before coming to Hogwarts, but a lot of things had happened since she came under Dumbledore's care. Her 1st year was the worst, and it was way back in 1993 when she accidentally opened the Chamber of Secrets. The following year was no better. She was ostracized by the girls and avoided like plague by the boys in her class. *"Look! There's Ginny Weasley, the Gryffindor who has messed around with dark magic... She's tainted!"* Ginny winced at the memory of those hateful words she overheard some Hufflepuffs whispering behind her back.

True, most students would not dare to hate her openly due to her brothers, especially Ron, who happened to be Harry Potter's best friend; but she got left out of many fun things like those late-night parties at the Quidditch pitch. Perhaps they thought that she would go running to Ron or Harry if they were publicly mean, but Ginny wouldn't do that. She had a backbone, and it was not made of cotton wool. Besides, Ron wouldn't be a pretty sight to behold if he knew no-one wanted to be his baby sister's friend.

To top it, Harry, Hermione and Ron didn't do much to ease the pain of being left out in everything.

A soft laughed escaped her throat. She was doomed to be alone, alienated by every student in all Four Houses. Even her favorite brother, Ron, was too busy playing Harry Potter's Male Sidekick. Hermione was the Female Sidekick and there was no room for a co-starring role featuring another Weasley, no matter how hard she tried to fit in with the Fabulous Trio. Ginny didn't choose to hide in the library. She didn't choose to be a quiet and shy girl. She didn't choose to be alone.

The sad thing was, no-one seemed to understand that. Not even Ron.

Only Tom had understood.

Yes, the one and only Tom Riddle.

Ginny remembered how good it felt to have someone who was willing to listen to her problems. No matter what she wrote in the diary, Tom was always there for her. When Tom tried to kill her later on, Ginny felt her heart broke into a million pieces. What had she done to have Tom treat her this way?

Tom M. Riddle was a name she could never forget for the rest of her life, for he was the Dark Wizard Lord Voldemort of today.

Life could be so unfair at times.

Brilliant light shone down on them from the beautiful ceiling in Great Hall as hundreds of students gathered around their respective House tables for breakfast. Harry, Hermione and Ron sat in their usual places, eating pieces of buttered toast with marmalade complete with tall mugs of fresh pumpkin juice.

"Harry, it's Friday," Ron grumbled and set his goblet too hard down on the table. Pumpkin juice splashed onto his toast and the Weasley only glared at it irritably. "I can't believe the entire week just flew past us like that."

"So? Saturday comes after today," Hermione interrupted happily, ignoring Ron's dark look. "We get to go to Hogsmeade this Sunday, for your information." As she finished the sentence, she gathered her books and stood up.

"Yes, I 'know' tomorrow's Saturday, but we have Potions today," Ron sighed unhappily. "And it's a double period with the Slytherins. What a horrid way to end a week!"

"Oh..." Harry answered absentmindedly and stirred his bowl of oatmeal porridge. "Snape again..."

"Yes, and Snape is not in a particularly good mood these past few days. He had taken ten points away from Gryffindor because Neville forgot to address him 'sir' yesterday in class," Ron complained gloomily. "Merlin knows how many points more he will take from us today."

"Could it be because Sirius is smiling at him every dinner? Snape hates Sirius with all his heart," Harry tried to explain as he took a sip out of his goblet. After all, Snape was famous for his grudge-holding abilities against people he hated.

"Maybe, if he has a heart at all," Ron interrupted with a depressed sigh and picked up his books. Glancing at his watch, he gestured at Harry to hurry up.

True enough, the entire day was rather uneventful except for a very minor accident in Transfiguration when Neville's pincushion suddenly sprouted teeth (Poor Neville! A bungled spell again!) and went on a biting spree through class. Speaking of Neville, Harry couldn't help noticing that the boy seemed to be overwhelmed with fatigue since the opening feast and dark ugly rings were always present under his eyes. Feeling his heart clench, Harry forced himself not to think about Neville and his parents who were in St. Mungo's.

No, Harry didn't feel unlucky at all when compared to Neville. Harry never knew his parents, but Neville was different.

Neville had parents who couldn't recognize their own son.

At last, the dreaded Potions period came. For the earlier part of the week, Snape had only entered class once due to the clash of timetables with the Sixth Years. Honeymoon was over for the Gryffindors.

Before time, Harry had found himself sitting together with Ron in Potions. Hermione was sitting alone by the corner and she didn't look particularly happy about the double period too. *How un-Hermione to dislike a teacher so much. Blame it on Snape,* Harry thought dryly.

Suddenly, the racket in the class was lowered to mere hushed whispers when an imposing figure in black robes strode into the classroom. Yes, Snape had walked in and his face was hard and cold as usual. The Potions Master then took time to look at each and every one of their faces. When his dark eyes peered at Harry, the poor boy felt a shiver running down his spine.

There was hatred and resentment in Snape's eyes. Wise wizards said that the eyes were the windows to one's soul. It was extremely easy to see that Snape detested Harry straight to the core of his wand by the way the teacher scrutinized the boy.

"The methods of today's potion are on page 10 of the textbook. Brew your potion carefully and make sure it is ready by the end of the day," Snape instructed curtly and folded his arms, his eyes glaring at the class. Meekly, the Gryffindors and Slytherins laid out their Potions kit on the wide table and began chopping up the ingredients needed for mixture.

"Gee, 'slicing toad bowels into equal lengths' again? They are so slippery and slimy," Ron groaned in frustration as his cleaver missed the intended mark again. "Will the fun never stop?"

"I hate Potions, but then again, it's better than Divination," Harry sighed as he sneaked a peek at Hermione. She seemed to be hard at work, her head bent over the chopping board. Harry's green eyes followed her deft movements. Her long fingers were holding the knife expertly while another hand tossed some diced acorns into the bubbling cauldron. How he wished Hermione were here to help him...

"Potter, this is not the time to ogle girls," a cold voice interrupted him and Harry looked up in shock. Snape was standing in front of him, his lips twisted in a malicious smirk. "One day's detention for not paying attention in class. Be in my office at 8.30 tonight," Snape continued coolly and walked to the next table, purposely not catching the angry glare that Harry threw at him.

Harry could feel his ears burning in shame and anger when Draco Malfoy snickered and made a lewd comment on wandering eyes. The Slytherins exploded with laughter as Harry quickly focused his eyes on his work. Ron only managed to shoot him a sympathetic look, and Harry didn't feel much better over it. Getting stuck chopping up disgusting ingredients was bad, but detention with Snape was much worse. The Potions Master was famous for inventing horrible tasks like cleaning out bedpans in the hospital wing without any magic, and Harry wasn't looking forward to spending a relaxing Friday night slaving over some obscure task.

The poor boy could only sigh and wish for the class to be over soon.

Emerald green eyes glanced at his watch impatiently as the hour hand moved to the number 'nine'. Straining his ears hard, Harry tried to listen if there were footsteps echoing down the passageway leading to the small office. It was not like Snape to be late for so long....

Leaning back into his seat again, Harry glanced around the room again and felt the hairs behind his neck prickled. He hated coming to Snape's office because it was filled to brim with assorted jars of preserved animal parts, including an eyeball extracted from a Howler Ape. *A dark creature again,* Harry thought and folded his arms. *Snape could be a vampire for all I know.*

Pushing his chair backwards, Harry stood up, ready to leave the dank office to look for Snape. Flipping his wide sleeves, Harry turned around and there was a sudden crash of glass shattering.

His heart skipped a beat.

The fabric of his robe had accidentally caught a greenish silver crystal ball and swept it off the Snape's table. The ground beside his feet was covered with fragments of the fragile ornament. Casting a backward glance at the door, Harry swallowed and prayed hard the nasty Potions Master would not walk into his office now.

Plucking his wand out of his pocket, Harry shouted, "Reparo!" Slowly, but certainly, glass shards flew up onto the table and began reassembling themselves into the original shape of the crystal ball. Harry heaved a sigh of relief as he stared at the stone floor. Luckily Snape wasn't here, or else he would give him one month's worth of detentions.

Suddenly, Harry found himself looking at a slab of stone with a slightly different hue from the rest of the floor. Bending down to examine the mismatched stone, he knocked it with his knuckles before tapping on the slab next to it.

There was a distinct difference in the sound.

Slowly, Harry traced the outline of the stone, realizing it resembled an oversized triangle. *Snape has a trapdoor here?* Harry thought and shouted 'Alohomora!'. He waited for a moment for the slab of stone to burst open, but it didn't even budge an inch.

Carefully, Harry tried prying the stone slab open with his fingers and gradually, the stone slab made a grinding sound as he heaved it aside. *It is ridiculously heavy,* Harry grumbled internally. *Why didn't Snape just enchant the trapdoor to open with a simple spell? Maybe there's some secret beneath it...* Peering through the opening, there was a black hole beneath the slab and he couldn't see anything beyond the darkness.

"Lumos," Harry whispered and held out his wand. The light hit a solid surface below him and the hole didn't seem to be too deep. For a moment, Harry contemplated on putting the stone slab back in place, but he decided against it. It was the perfect moment to find out more about Snape, although the professor might walk into the room any moment now.

Lowering himself carefully into the space beneath the trapdoor, Harry found himself looking at a small chamber. The space was spotless, and there was a single wicker chair in the middle of the room. Neat rows of shelves lined the walls and there were many objects placed on the wooden racks. Gently, Harry picked up the dried stalk of a rose and sniffed at it.

There was still a soft tingling scent.

With trembling fingers, Harry replaced the flower onto the rack and inspected the rest of the meticulously laid articles on it. There was a tin box with beautiful engravings and next to it was a tattered notebook. Quills with plumage from different birds adorned the plain wooden surface of the rack and there was a ladies robe folded neatly by their side.

Gritting his teeth, Harry picked up the tin box and opened it. There was a stack of yellowed parchments within it and they were filled with rows of beautiful cursive writing. Slowly, the curious boy picked one to read. "Dear Severus," Harry started reading, but stopped in fear of Snape walking into his office now. Stuffing the letter into his robes, Harry closed the lid of the tin box and replaced it onto the shelf, careful to put it exactly on the spot he moved it from.

Then, another object caught his eye.

At the far end of the wall hanged a huge picture of a smiling young witch and a wizard wearing a solemn expression on his face, and the couple in the picture looked shockingly familiar. Walking nearer to the picture, Harry could see stars swimming in front of his eyes. He couldn't believe what he was looking at. Flashing his wand at the other three sides of the room revealed more framed photos with the same couple, each showing a different background and the duo in various poses.

Then, his eyes fell upon a picture depicting the young witch and wizard locked in a passionate kiss. Harry felt his stomach churned as raw recognition washed over him.

Suddenly, there was a click of the doorknob turning.

Coming up next chapter: The next installment is also an important part of the story. Keep your eyes open!

P/S: Can anyone make an educated guess on who is the mysterious man with the box? No, he is not an original character. What about the identity of the young witch and wizard in the photos? Do tell me who you think they are through a review or an e-mail.