Veritas Amo

CHAPTER 5

The weekend before classes started up again after the holidays went by fairly quickly. There would be no extension of the break, for a mourning period, because, as Dumbledore had pointed out, canceling classes to focus on the after-math of the attacks would be exactly what Voldemort and the Death Eaters wanted - but to continue to live their lives to the fullest extent would be showing the Death Eaters that their power over the wizarding world was not so great. Ginny had spent most of Saturday evening and Sunday in the Room of Requirement, with Colin, Luna, and Neville. Sometimes Dennis would join them as well, to be with his brother, but more-often he would hide away in a corner of the Gryffindor common room with his little girlfriend or shut himself alone in his room. Ginny had received a very loud howler from Molly Weasley on Sunday afternoon - expressing her deepest disappointment in her youngest - that, thankfully, had exploded in a sound-proof Room of Requirement. The Gryffindors had not taken their loss of house points very well. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs weren't too happy that Slytherin was in the lead for the House Cup, either. It seemed they all wanted to blame Ginny for this disaster, but, surprisingly, it was Harry Potter who had set the record straight, and stated disappointment in his own housemates for their behavior towards his best friend's little sister. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had all been acting differently since the little heart-to-heart chat they had had with Ginny on Friday night.

After a long week of classes - and a return to routine - things seemed to settle down a bit in the castle. Parvati Patil was still bitter with Ginny, but the other Gryffindors had made attempts to apologize to the red head, after realizing that she had been a victim of the Dark Lord, and not his accomplice. Even Padma Patil, Parvati's twin sister in Ravenclaw, had approached Ginny later in the week to apologize for her sister's actions. Needless to say, news of exactly what had happened in her first year - her possession by the young Voldemort - had spread quickly throughout the school, and to all of the Houses. So when Draco Malfoy cornered her in a hallway on her way back from her last class of the day - Charms with Professor Flitwick - on Friday, Ginny was not too surprised.

"Ginny," she shivered at the sound of her name coming from his lips. The feeling was almost as great as the intense current she had felt flow through her when he had touched her cheek last week in the library. She fought the nervous and excited blush that was trying to creep into her face, and coolly leaned against the wall to face him.

"Yes?" she asked in a voice that sounded much too breathless to her own ears. She only prayed that he had not noticed. She stiffened slightly as he stepped closer to her, placing his body mere inches away from her own. She could feel the heat of him radiating onto her, and tried not to gulp loudly.

"Is it true?" he asked directly. She looked up, into his beautiful eyes, and debated with herself what to answer. She had no doubt as to what he was referring to, she just did not know how much of her story she wanted to reveal to him. His father, after all, had been the one to give her that damn diary.

She shrugged slightly, and decided to play the ignorance card. "Is what true?" she asked, scrunching up her nose a bit to convey confusion. Apparently this was the wrong move, for his eyes darkened considerably, as he straightened his body to his full 6'3" height, and took another step closer.

"Don't play dumb," he said in a clipped tone. Then, "It doesn't suit you," he threw in, almost as an afterthought. Ginny was unsure, but that sounded suspiciously like a compliment, coming from the Prince of Slytherin to the youngest Weasley. The thought caused her to smirk slightly.

"If you are asking whether I was possessed by a young Voldemort," - it became easier to say each time, and the surprise was clear on Draco's face at her calm use of the name - "to open the Chamber of Secrets in my first year, then yes, it's true." She watched him closely for his reaction, but was disappointed to see that any emotions he felt were tightly concealed by a placid mask and guarded silver eyes. He only nodded curtly, and took a few steps back, away from her. She ignored the twinge of disappointment she felt at his retreat. "Is that all?" she asked, trying to provoke some type of response, so she could properly gage his thoughts about the situation.

"Yes, that's all," he said quietly, and then turned and left. She didn't know what she had expected him to do, but it had not been that. He hadn't asked her if she was okay, if she wanted to talk about it, or tried to comfort her in any way. Then she realized what she was thinking, and who she was thinking about. She should not have been surprised by his actions. She should not feel this heaviness in her heart at his casual desertion. But she was, and she did. What was happening to her?

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

Draco stormed up to the Astronomy Tower, feeling the rage growing inside of him. He could not have stood by Ginny Weasley for a moment longer, wanting to hold her and kiss her, and take away the pain of something his father had done. Yes, he knew his father was responsible for the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets. He had never known the specifics, but it had all been his father's plan, and he had told Draco to stay out of the situation, and let the Heir of Slytherin 'cleanse the school.' Draco had had no idea that Ginny Weasley had been used, or that Voldemort was actually Slytherin's heir. Did that mean that Voldemort had been a student at Hogwart's, over fifty years ago, the last time the Chamber had been opened? Draco decided that that was something he would have to look into.

As he sat on a ledge in the Tower - unknown to him, the same place Ginny Weasley had occupied after her housemates had turned on her - he thought back to his encounter with the little red head. He had wanted so badly to take her into his arms, to keep her away from any and all danger...

Draco shook away his traitorous thoughts. Why should he want to comfort her? To protect her? She was a Weasley! But for some reason, that sneering reminder of her social status did little to abate his desire to hold her, comfort her, and never let her go. Gods, what was he thinking? If he felt anything, it was a bit of lust. That was all, he tried to convince himself. Once he was satisfied that he felt nothing more than some physical attraction to the little weasel, Draco stood up, and made his way back to the Slytherin dungeons, a confident swagger back in his step.

His newly acknowledged position towards Ginny Weasley lasted well into the next month, as he barely saw the girl. Between Prefect rounds - a part of Dumbledore's increased security for Hogwarts - and quidditch practices, on top of the growing load of assignments from the professors, Draco had been kept very busy. Not to mention the stress he endured keeping tabs on his mother's well-being and watching cautiously for word from Lucius: thankfully, his dearest father had yet to contact either Draco or Narcissa.

The quidditch game against Ravenclaw, that had been played two weeks ago, had been a very close match. Luckily, Draco had caught the snitch before Cho Chang had even seen the small, fluttering gold ball, and Slytherin had won by ten points. Draco had doubled practice time after that - if they wanted the Quidditch Cup, they would have to score heavily and let in no goals, in their last game against Hufflepuff. Gryffindor would be facing Ravenclaw next weekend, and they were leading for the Quidditch Cup after their wins against Slytherin and Hufflepuff earlier in the school year. Draco had refused to let them receive that honor once again, not while he was Slytherin's Quidditch captain, anyway.

So after Gryffindor's astounding win by seventy points against Ravenclaw - due to the work of their talented chasers, Draco admitted - he was annoyed to find that he wanted to congratulate the little weasel on a job well done. Did people in lust do that? Whatever the answer to that question, Draco found himself approaching the red head, who was sitting by the lake, apparently oblivious to the February cold.

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

"Good show," came a familiar drawl from behind Ginny. She turned her head to see Draco Malfoy standing behind her, and gazing out onto the still-frozen water. When he glanced down to see that she had looked back at the sound of his voice, she gave him a sweet smile, not realizing that it made reason flee from his mind.

"Thanks," she replied softly. "I saw your game against Ravenclaw a few weeks ago," she continued, "that was a pretty good catch." Draco only shrugged slightly, before moving to sit beside her on the cold, hard ground. It was not covered with snow, but Ginny knew it was still uncomfortable. He did not seem to notice the surprise on her face when he cast a quick warming charm around them both. She decided not to mention it, for she was quite certain that he did not even realize that he had performed the considerate gesture. Instead, she decided to start a friendly conversation. "So," she began, not quite sure, now that she had opened her mouth, what she was supposed to talk with him about. "How are your classes going?" She wanted to curse herself, but at least school was a topic they had in common, as they were both students.

Draco raised one eyebrow in obvious amusement before responding with a curt "Fine." She rolled her eyes at his uncooperativeness, and looked away. She heard him sigh slightly and shift beside her, before he spoke again. "Things have been busy," he expanded, almost reluctantly. "The professors have been piling up the work," she nodded in agreement and he smirked slightly. "Other than that, I have Prefect rounds and quidditch captain responsibilities." She understood completely... she also had Prefect rounds - thankfully, Dumbledore and McGonagall had let her keep her position with a stern warning of removal at the slightest indication of irresponsible behavior on her part - and Harry had been drilling them for weeks in quidditch tactics before their game against Ravenclaw. Ginny believed that the professors seemed to forget that the students had other classes when they assigned so much homework every week. She had barely had any time to spend with Blaise and her other friends between all of her responsibilities and the meetings of the re-instated D.A.

"Same here," she responded succinctly, "except without the duties of quidditch captain," she added quickly.

"So has Potter been driving your team hard, then?" he asked with a small chuckle.

Ginny simply smirked and said, "You have no idea! He's getting to be as bad as Oliver Wood was rumored to have been," she laughed slightly.

Draco nodded. "Wood was a pretty good captain," he admitted. "For a Gryffindor," came the sardonic finish. Ginny only shook her head slightly at his still obviously present anti-Gryffindor stance.

"Draco, you do realize that I am a Gryffindor, right?" she asked, amusement shining in her eyes.

Draco looked away, before shrugging once more. "You're different." Now, Ginny knew that that had been a compliment. And that threw her off completely. There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere at that admission - something had changed irrevocably between them. And it seemed that they both knew it.

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

When Ginny returned to the Gryffindor Tower later that afternoon - traipsing through the loud and rambunctious celebration of the Gryffindor win, and up to her own dorm - she could not for the life of her have explained the exchange by the lake with Draco Malfoy. They had said nothing more after his veiled compliment to her, and both had sat in an uncomfortable silence for the next ten minutes, before he stood abruptly, and left, with only a nod in her direction to serve as farewell. She did not know how she should be feeling about what had transpired, but she knew that a part of her was excited... and happy. She had never felt this way before. She had had a crush on Harry Potter - that was true. But now she knew that that was all it had been - a crush. The emotions which stirred within her at the mere thought of a certain blond Slytherin Prince, overshadowed anything she had ever felt in Harry's presence.

But a larger part of her was quite frightened of the obvious affection growing within her towards the Malfoy heir. This could lead to no good - he was a Malfoy, and she was a Weasley. It would never work, and he would only hurt her in the end. She had seen how he was with different girls in the school. He always chose a very physically attractive girl, which made her wonder what he was trying to do with her - Ginny knew that, while she was not ugly, she was not one of the beauties of Hogwarts that Draco Malfoy usually pursued, either. Was he even pursuing her? The other girls seemed to have been interchangeable to him - he cared for no one. She also knew that if he did feel anything for her, it was only lust, and once she had given in to whatever it was he wanted, she would be thrown aside as well. She could not bear the thought of that happening, so she pushed the smirking blonde to the back of her mind, as she laid back on her bed, and enjoyed a short rest period before she would be forced to rise for her evening activities.

She would not have Prefect rounds that night, but there would be a meeting of the D.A. later, after the party in the common room had died down. The D.A. had been somewhat inactive for the first semester - there were a few meetings, but since Defense Against the Dark Arts included practical application once again, most of the students found it unnecessary to continue to meet. After the attacks in the earliest hours of the New Year, however, most of the old members of the D.A. were much more willing to take the time to sharpen their skills in Defense. Many new students had joined the group as well - though there were still no Slytherins involved - and the D.A. had been meeting twice a week in the Room of Requirement, working around the schedules of different Houses and Prefects.

Ginny sighed, then lifted herself up to search her trunk for a quill and some parchment. She figured she might as well use her bit of free time to respond to the letter she had received from Molly Weasley a few weeks ago. Her mother had informed her that her brother Bill - who had married Fleur Delacour in a small ceremony at the Ministry of Magic at the beginning of last summer - was now the father of a healthy baby girl. Ginny had calculated the math in her head, and finally understood the quick and very unromantic wedding between her brother and the part-veela - Fleur had already been pregnant when they exchanged their vows. The views of wizarding society regarding sexual relationships between unmarried people, matched those that muggles had held almost fifty years ago, according to Hermione. But Ginny really didn't care about the impropriety of the situation. She was just thrilled that she now had a little niece, another Weasley female in the family, who had not married into the name. Her mother had sent her a picture of Sabine Collette Weasley, and Ginny was sure that she had to have been the most perfect baby ever born. She had a tuft of platinum blond hair on her small head, big baby blue eyes, and it was clear that she would definitely grow into her veela beauty.

After writing to her mother to ask after her little niece, Ginny decided to join the dwindling party in the common room. Colin was down there, she knew, as were Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Her relationship with the Dream Team had reached somewhat of a truce - they were civil to each other, and the Gryffindor trio attempted to try not to dictate her life. She was grateful for the short reprieve, for she knew that once they learned of her relationship with Blaise Zabini, their position of non-interference would be forgotten in a heartbeat.

When Ginny arrived downstairs, it turned out that the only people left in the common room were those who would be leaving shortly for the D.A. meeting. After helping them clean up - Hermione refused to leave the mess for the under-appreciated house-elves - they all made their way to the Room of Requirement.

The night of practice of Defense spells went fairly well.

It was the encounter that ensued after the members of the D.A. had been dismissed by Harry that had been disastrous.

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

Coming across a band of Gryffindors on his Prefect rounds was like a dream come true for Draco Malfoy. He had spent his time after his little chat with Ginny Weasley trying to make a dent in his immense school workload. As his mind had kept drifting to his earlier encounter with the little red head, he had not gotten much of his homework done. What had he been thinking when he had said that she was different? The truth was, he had not been thinking at all. He had been so lost in his closeness to her, and in her sweet smile and her large brown eyes, that he had said the first words that came into his mind. But after much reflection on his comment, he realized that he had been right - she was different from those other Gryffindors. Otherwise, he would not be so drawn to her. This new awareness, combined with his finally conscious self-admission of feeling more than simple lust for the girl, had thoroughly jarred him. Some Gryffindor-bashing to balance his teetering equilibrium was exactly what he needed right now. What he had not needed was to see his little red-headed nymph - Gods, he was giving her cute nicknames, now? - amidst the group of Gryffs.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he asked in his usual casual drawl. "Gryffindors out of bed, after hours? And when you're already so behind in House points?" he chuckled a bit. "And here I thought you were supposed to be the house of the brave, not the stupid..."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ah, the big Weasel. Draco paused for a moment, trying to understand how Ginny could be related to such an oaf. He mentally shrugged it off, and sneered at the tall, angry red head before him.

"I am the Prefect on rounds tonight, Weasel. You will answer to me." The obnoxious prat was starting to bug him, and Draco mentally rolled his eyes as Potter and Granger stepped up beside their irate friend, ready to do battle. He saw Ginny standing still behind them, watching the scene with wary eyes.

"We have permission to be out, Malfoy," cut in Granger, reasonably. "We had a club meeting, and now we are returning to Gryffindor Tower. You can check with Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore if you want." She really was a sanctimonious bitch, Draco decided.

"Perhaps," he began, an idea forming in his mind. "Perhaps we will ask Professor Snape." He truly enjoyed the looks of outrage around him. "What little club is this, anyway?"

"Dumbledore's Army," came the voice of - surprisingly - Neville Longbottom.

"You remember the students who gave you that spectacular send-off on the Hogwarts Express last summer, don't you?" Potter asked, looking quite smug. Draco decided that that look did not suit the scar face at all.

He thought back to the train ride home, and how Potter's lackeys from the other Houses had hexed him when he had tried to confront the Gryffindor hero for what he had done to Draco's father. That had been when he had still adored Lucius Malfoy, and Draco had been outraged that his father had been put in Azkaban because of Potty and his groupies. While he no longer worshipped Lucius as he had done before, Draco's pride was still hurt by the mess he had been reduced to by those goody-goody club members.

"Ah, I think he remembers," the Weasel laughed.

Draco was livid, and he would do just about anything to hurt the Dream Team the way he was hurting at the moment. So he threw on a cruel smirk, and hit the Gryffindor trio where it would hurt the most. "Yes, I remember," he began in a tight drawl, being sure to keep his fury reigned in. "That was just after those Death Eaters had been captured in the Department of Mysteries, correct?" He continued, ignoring the surprised looks at his casual admittance of his father's status as a Death Eater. "Around the same time that my second-cousin, Sirius Black, was killed by my own dear Aunt Bellatrix," he sighed in false sorrow, shaking his head slightly, glancing at Potter, whose hands were fisted in rage. The other students - the ones who did not know the truth of Sirius Black's innocence or of his death at the Department of Mysteries - stood back, watching confusedly. "Terrible, it was," he finished, a vicious smile on his handsome face.

"That's enough, Malfoy!" Draco was slightly startled to hear Ginny Weasley, but he quickly recovered his cool mask. He lifted one eyebrow in sardonic amusement, and pushed away whatever pain he felt at her tone, and her use of his last name.

"Malfoy, eh? Just this afternoon, it was Draco," he affected his tone into one of sweet mocking when he repeated his first name. "What happened, love, you don't want to be friends anymore?" He felt his heart drop at the sight of the hurt in her eyes, but ignored it. If she wanted to have any kind of relationship with him, she would have to accept who he truly was. And that included accepting his hatred of the Dream Team.

"Ginny?" The Gryffindors, led by the 'Fabulous Three' were looking at the small red-head as though she was one of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts. "Is it true, Ginevra?" Ron Weasley was obviously pissed, as his face was steadily turning maroon. Ginevra, eh? Draco thought. Hmm, good to know...

"It's not what you're thinking -" she began, but the idiot Weasel cut her off.

"What is wrong with you? What are you doing hanging around Slytherins?" Draco fought the urge to throw the tall red head against the wall as he towered over his little sister. "Didn't your first year teach you anything?" That was as far as he got, for Draco had had enough. He could not stand seeing the pain and betrayal reflected in Ginny's eyes for a moment longer.

"Wow, Weasel," Draco cut in, clapping mockingly, "are you naturally this lousy of a brother, or is it a practiced deficiency?" Ron Weasley turned to him then, his wand raised. Draco put his hands up, to show he was unarmed. "Go on, Weasley, show everyone what a great wizard you are by hexing an unarmed opponent. Then maybe they'll overlook how you care more about your reputation, and your hero Potty and his mudblood girlfriend, than you do your own sister. Because if you are only noticing now that she has been hanging around Slytherins, then you obviously don't have a clue."

"Stop, Malfoy," Creevey cut in. "We all see your point. You can go now." At Draco's raised eyebrow, he sighed. "We do have permission to be out, and Dumbledore will only confirm that." Draco held his eye for a moment, and determined that the younger boy was telling the truth. The two had reached an understanding of sorts a few weeks back, when Draco had - somewhat hesitantly - apologized for the comments he had spouted in the kitchens the day after the Death Eaters' New Year's attacks. Since then, their relationship had actually been bordering what some would call 'civility.'

"Very well, then," he nodded curtly, paying no heed to the obvious astonishment around him that Draco Malfoy had listened to little muggle-born Colin Creevey. He looked to Ginny, who was avoiding his gaze, and sneered. "Fine. Leave. Now!" he commanded, when no one had moved. The group of Gryffindors began to make their way back to their common room once more, most of them shooting glares his way as they passed, to which he sneered back. Draco turned to watch as the Weasel grabbed his sister by her wrist to drag her along, and he had to stop himself from throwing his body onto the buffoon, and beating him for his harsh treatment of the small girl. As it was, that would have been unnecessary, as both Ginny and Creevey had pulled their wands, and Ginny whispered something quietly to her brother, that made him let go quickly and walk ahead. Draco surmised that it probably had something to do with her advanced magical abilities, and her brother's fear of spiders. He held back a chuckle at the thought of Weasley, on the ground and covered with spiders, and crying like a baby. Any humor he felt disappeared, however, when Ginny walked by him, without so much as glancing up. She had ignored him, and for some reason, that had hurt him more than he had ever thought possible

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

The biting cold of February eased in March, and by the time the end of April came, spring showers had been steadily muddying the grounds for weeks, effectively soaking Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures students who had not been forward-thinking enough to have cast Impervius charms before leaving their dorms. Filch had been heavily enforcing the 'no magic in the hallways' rule, and therefore delighted in penalizing students who dragged in water and mud from the outdoors due to their inability to cast cleansing or drying charms in the halls of the castle. The rain did not, however, keep Ginny and Blaise from their meetings by the lake.

They sat under the ancient willow a ways from the water, protected by the Impervius and warming charms above them, and a drying charm on the ground directly below. Ginny sighed quietly, enjoying the peaceful quiet of Sunday afternoon. The last few months had passed quickly, as she had been so busy with classes, preparation for O.W.L.s, and D.A. meetings - the quidditch season had ended in early March with Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup.

Yet the time had gone slowly as well, for Ginny found herself missing a blond ferret she had not even realized before-hand had been an important part of her life. Draco had not spoken to her since the encounter in the hallway after the D.A. meeting, and Ginny found that his treatment of her as though she did not exist, hurt even more than the petty insults he used to throw her way. She had only been trying to stop him from insulting the memory of Sirius that night; she had not meant to push him away from her.

Sometimes she thought that the situation was for the best - that they had not grown closer, so he could not hurt her even more. But then she would see him in the halls, walking with Blaise and Parkinson, or flirting with some pretty girl, and the pain would pierce her heart again...

"Knut for your thoughts?" came Blaise's smooth drawl. His way of speaking was so similar to Draco's, but his voice did not cause the tremors within her that Draco's could.

"I was just thinking about the coming summer," she lied. She knew that Blaise could see through the untruth, but also knew that he would let it slide. "Colin and Dennis will have to stay in a safe-house with their parents, under a secret-keeper." She had not revealed any confidential information... mostly because she had no access to such knowledge. Besides, she trusted Blaise, and he had been with her to help Colin cope with life after the loss of his little sister for the past few months. "I just wish that they did not have to hide." She sighed, as Blaise nodded in silent agreement.

In all honesty, Ginny was somewhat grateful that her friend and his family would be safe. Reports of attacks by the Death Eaters were in the papers every week. People all over Great Britain were being targeted. Just last week, a high-ranking Ministry of Magic official and his wife had been murdered. Before that, there had been reports of random muggle killings. People were dying out there, and there was nothing Ginny could do to help. She had pleaded with Molly Weasley once more - this time in writing - to allow her to help the cause of the Order of the Phoenix, but she was once again shut out. She knew the Order was making plans and working to protect the innocent people outside of the castle walls - as Ron, Harry, and Hermione had been particularly busy these past few months - but she was kept from doing anything by their mistrust, masked as over-protectiveness. The Dream Team had not reacted well to her implied relationship with the Malfoy heir. Their reactions had been even worse to proof of her actual friendship with Blaise. Ron had written to his family about it, and Ginny had received various letters from her brothers and parents - some more scolding than others, but all quite certain that 'poor, little Ginny' was being manipulated in some way - demanding an explanation of her relationship with the Slytherin. She had simply replied to each letter with one line of her own: We are friends. After her succinct response, relations with her family members had grown obviously strained. She had made it a point to avoid the Gryffindor trio after that.

"You look tired," came Blaise's voice, interrupting her bitter reverie. She turned away from him, so he would not be able to clearly see the dark circles under her eyes, and shrugged slightly. "Nightmares again?" he asked, gently pulling her towards him, to lean on his strong chest. Ginny only nodded slightly in response. "Do you want to tell me about them?" She stilled for a moment, before relaxing into the embrace, and speaking.

"It was him," she said, her voice so quiet he had to move his head down near her lips to hear her. "It was Voldemort, and that girl again," she continued. This was not the first time that she had confided in Blaise regarding her night terrors. "She looked so sad, Blaise, and I could tell that she was worried about something." Ginny moved her head slightly to look at her friend. "I think she is real, and I think she's in trouble, but I don't know how to help her!" Ginny knew she sounded tired and whiny, but she felt so helpless - she did not know what else to do. Blaise simply shushed her, and gently laid her head back on his shoulder with one hand. She did not see him take out his wand, or hear him whisper a spell. But it did not really matter to her, for in a few minutes, she was fast asleep.

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

"What is she doing here?" Draco knew his voice was not as detached as it should have been at that inquiry, but at this point, he honestly did not care.

"Ginny is sleeping," Blaise drawled, his amusement obvious, "so keep your voice down."

Draco looked at his friend closely, and tried to remind himself that Blaise was gay. But that did not stop his hands from forming fists as his best mate absentmindedly stroked Ginny Weasley's vibrant red locks. "That still doesn't explain why she is in our dorm room," Draco continued in a quieter tone, "and why she is in your bed!" Blaise only smirked in response. Draco let out petulant huff and stalked over to his own bed, which was positioned a few feet away from Blaise's. Draco sat down stiffly on his mattress, keeping his eyes locked on the pair in the bed next to his. He heard Blaise sigh.

"Well, since you are here," he began, "why don't you make yourself useful and make sure the other oafs don't bother her." Draco arched one brow at the subtle insult, and frowned slightly at his friend. "I have a letter to write," Blaise explained, carefully extricating his body from its position beside Ginny on the bed, and smoothing out the black casual robes he was wearing over charcoal-gray pants and a black button-up, as he stood. He smirked at Draco, and left before the blonde had even agreed to the task. Draco looked from the closed dorm room door to the small girl lying on the bed next to his, before whispering the strongest locking charm he could conjure - he did not want the other Slytherins to learn of her presence. Draco tried to convince himself that he had cast the charm because he did not want anyone to see him associating with a Weasley, but gave up the half-hearted attempt: Draco did not like lying to himself, and he knew, whether he wanted to admit it or not, that he had locked the door for her safety. The Slytherins could be vicious with outsiders, especially little Gryffs. This made him wonder why Blaise had brought her here in the first place, and also how he had gotten her into their dorm unnoticed. But then, Blaise did have a knack for the invisibility charm...

Draco's attention was diverted from his musings by a whimper from the small girl. She was tossing about Blaise's bed a bit, obviously in the throws of a disturbing dream. Draco moved quickly to her side without thinking, and gently laid a hand on her cheek. He grew alarmed when she stilled at his touch, but he relaxed when she sighed gently and seemed to be sleeping peacefully again. Draco simply watched her as she slept for a few minutes, taking in her fluttering auburn lashes, the sprinkling of light freckles adorning her otherwise pale, milky skin - which he knew to be quite soft to the touch, as his thumb was currently brushing back and forth across her the top of her left cheek - and her slightly-parted full pink lips.

Draco made to move away when the temptation to kiss her became too great, but he stopped when she began to whimper again at the loss of his touch. He looked around for some other means to soothe her, but realized that she must need the physical contact to ease her nightmares - he recalled that she had been fine when Blaise was beside her. So, after quickly reviewing the pros and cons of actively comforting her, Draco kicked off his shoes and laid his body down beside hers. Really, it had not been such a difficult decision - he had wanted to hold her for months now... Avoiding her for so long had been difficult, but he had found the distance necessary: she had hurt him, and it disturbed him that he had not even realized he had given her the power to do so. So he had tried to cut her out from his life, filling the hollowness with nameless, faceless girls who bored him easily. Still, he would often find his mind and his gaze straying to the small red head. He smiled slightly as the object of his thoughts rolled off of her back and onto her side, curling up her body a bit as she rested her head on his chest. He brought his arms to wrap around her, and reveled in the feel of her lean petite form so close to him. She fit so perfectly next to him, like she had been created to fill a void in his life that he had not previously known existed. He almost scoffed at his own thoughts, but the feel of her soft breath blowing against the skin of his neck as she shifted slightly stopped such self-ridicule.

Once he had ascertained that she was, indeed, sleeping comfortably once more, he took the opportunity to do what he had been so angry with Blaise for doing not more than half an hour ago. He slowly slid his long, nimble fingers into the silk tresses of her hair, pausing to play with the soft curl at the ends, before lifting his hand once again to repeat the process. Her hair had darkened even more over the past few months, he noted, making it a far cry from the typical Weasley orange-red it had once been. It was more of an apple-red now, he decided, as he continued to weave his fingers through her mane. He sighed slightly, as her spicy sweet smell overtook him, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall into a light sleep.

He awoke two hours later, and looked around for the source of the disturbance to his rest. He was certain that Blaise knew the counter to the locking charm he had placed on the door, and his other roommates would not dare bother him, once they had ascertained that the entrance to the dorm was locked; Delilah Windholm had not spoken to him since he had informed her that their arrangement was over, though she did send a lot of glares his way... His investigation came to an end when the girl in his arms rubbed her nose into his chest, as though it were a pillow - which, he admitted to himself, it was at the moment - and groaned softly. He watched a bit warily as she slowly shook off sleep, and opened her eyes. She moved her head slightly, and then stiffened. She slowly lifted her upper body, resting it on one arm, as she stared unseeingly at her 'pillow' for a moment. Then she let her eyes drift up, and to his face. He saw her eyes widen in surprise - and then a healthy bit of embarrassment - as she met his silver orbs. So he did the only thing he could think of at the moment - he smirked at her.

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

Ginny simply stared at the beautiful smirking blonde before her, and was tempted to pinch herself to check if she was awake. But as a soothing scent of sandalwood and musk invaded her senses, most likely originating from the boy who had acted as her 'pillow' for the restful nap she had just had, she realized that this was no dream. She let her lips form a small pout, as her nose crinkled a bit in confusion. The last place she remembered being awake was outside, by the lake, and with...

Blaise.

She was going to kill him...

"Where is he?" Ginny was too busy glancing around the room - and trying to keep her temper in check - to see the fleeting look of surprise, confusion, and a bit of hurt cross Draco's face. By the time she turned back to the boy beside her, he was wearing a cool emotionless mask once more, his silver eyes guarded. Ginny started a bit at the closed-off and... cold expression. She tilted her head to one side, as though trying to figure him out. She had spent the last few months missing his presence around her, and now, here he was - in bed with her...

Hmm...

She quickly surveyed their positions on the bed, and realized that he must have been holding her as she slept. And what wonderful sleep it had been! She could not remember any darkness from her dreams. And, for the first time in weeks, remnants of images of Voldemort's hideous face and an unknown dark-haired girl did not batter at her newly-awakened conscious mind. Ginny looked back up at Draco, who was still watching her with that detached mask on his face.

She opened her mouth a few times, but then promptly closed it, for she honestly did not know what to say to him. Last time she had checked, he was angry with her and ignoring her. But then why had she woken up in his arms? He seemed to have heard her unasked question, for he spoke then.

"Blaise brought you in here," he supplied. "Then he left me in charge of 'watching over you.' You were having some kind of nightmare, and only seemed to calm when there was someone right next to you. So here we are." He seemed quite disinterested in the whole process. Ginny felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, a bit embarrassed with herself for having thought he actually wanted to hold her in such a way. She tried not to let the disappointment hurt too much...

She nodded slightly, and gave a soft "Thanks," resting her eyes on some random spot on the bedspread throughout the exchange. There were a few more moments of silence, before she bravely lifted her eyes back to his, and asked the question that had been plaguing her for months now. "Why were you so angry with me?" At his arched eyebrow, she expanded a bit. "Before, I mean... when you caught the Gryffindors leaving the D.A. meeting..." she trailed off, hoping for an answer.

"Who said I was angry?" was all he replied with. Ginny rolled her eyes in slight frustration, and repositioned her body, sitting up beside his laying form.

"I only wanted to stop you from tarnishing Sirius' memory," she tried to explain her side of things. She paused then. "How did you know about that, anyway?" He shrugged slightly.

"My father told my mother that her sister had killed Sirius Black," he said shortly. At her still questioning gaze, he admitted, "My father informed me of Sirius Black's innocence during the summer after my fourth year."

"The summer after Voldemort first returned..." she said thoughtfully. Draco only nodded. "I know you were only trying to hurt Ron, Harry, and Hermione the way that they hurt you" - she continued to speak, placing the tips of her fingers on his mouth, as he opened it, no doubt to insist that he had not been 'hurt.' "I know, because I have done the same thing; but I just could not let you use Sirius' memory like that - he suffered enough in life," she finished softly.

Draco was looking at her oddly now, and, blushing, she quickly pulled her hand away from where her fingertips had been resting, on his soft lips. Her face only grew more heated as she thought of those lips on her skin, on her own lips... She was finding the bed sheets quite interesting again. She raised her eyes back up when she heard him chuckle softly.

She liked seeing him like this, she decided. With his loose platinum-blond strands falling into his silver eyes. His face was no longer guarded and wary, but she knew what he revealed before her now was only a fraction of the depth of emotion that he possessed. She smiled at him, happy to see that he no longer seemed upset with her - at least he was acknowledging her again. Her smile faltered a bit when his chuckles stopped abruptly, and he simply lay there, looking up at her with an unreadable emotion swirling in his metallic eyes. She stayed still as he slowly lifted one hand, and brushed back a lock of her long hair, tucking it behind one ear. He did not move that hand away once the unruly hair was in place; instead, he cupped the back of her neck, and gently pulled her down to him, as he lifted his upper body a bit.

Ginny's heart raced, as her eyes locked with his. He simply looked at her for a few moments, and Ginny had to stop herself from pulling away and running from him in fear that he would reject her, due to some inadequacy she possessed. She let her eyelids flutter shut as he moved his lips closer to hers, but she did not receive the expected kiss. Instead, he let his lips graze lightly against her cheek - the same cheek he had healed of a bruise months before. She smiled slightly at this sweet, chaste gesture. She took a deep breath, reveling in the comforting scent of him. She kept her eyes shut as she felt the soft flesh of his lips glide smoothly along her face, down to the vulnerable skin of her neck. She gasped as his hot mouth latched onto her pulse-point, feeling lighting course through her body. She never knew it could feel this amazing. Michael had been a rough kisser, and Dean had been sweet - and the one kiss she had shared with Neville, shortly after the end of the Yule ball, had been fumbling, nervous, and sloppy. This... it was not even a proper kiss, but it surpassed them all. This was passion, lust, fire, desire, need... Oh, gods, this was perfect...

Well, it would have been perfect if Blaise had not chosen to walk in on the middle of Draco's gentle assault on her neck.

As the young witch and wizard on the bed were too preoccupied to have heard the release of the locking charm or the opening of the door, it was Blaise's sardonic clapping for their intimate display that had caused Ginny's eyes to shoot open. Upon seeing her dark-haired friend, she let out an embarrassing squeak and pulled herself forcefully out of Draco's grasp, effectively displacing her body from the bed.

"Ow," she muttered from her new position on the floor. She decided to lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling of the sixth year Slytherin boys' dormitory, effectively avoiding having to face either of the boys present in the room. Her tactic was successful for a total of three seconds - the time it took for Blaise to walk over from his position by the door to her place on the floor, and for Draco to leisurely roll over onto his side, and look down upon her from the bed she had just deserted.

"Alright, 'Lina?" Blaise asked, but amusement clearly outweighed concern in both his voice and his eyes. She sent him one of her best glares, quite a difficult feat considering she was wishing to be swallowed up by the ground at the moment. He only laughed, and held out a hand to help her up. She accepted his offer, and found herself standing beside 'the bed.' She did not know where to look. She definitely could not look at Blaise, after what he had just walked in on. And looking at Draco did not seem like the best idea at the moment either. So she settled on looking at the ground, hoping her curtain of hair could hide her growingly red face. She heard Blaise's laughter die down, and shook her head slightly at his obvious enjoyment of their predicament. "Well," he continued, still chuckling, "I just came up to escort you out of the dungeons. The rest of the Slytherins have gone to the Great Hall for dinner," he explained, "so the common room is conveniently empty for your exit." Ginny finally looked back up at him, once she was sure that her face no longer resembled a tomato.

"How did you get me in here in the first place?" she asked, her earlier anger returning. "The last I remember, we were talking... outside!" She really did not like to be manipulated - and she hated waking up in unusual surroundings... especially unusual dungeon surroundings.

"Yes, well..." he trailed off, obviously wary of the growingly irritated girl before him, "I thought you could use some sleep -"

"So you put a charm on me?" She was not happy about this.

"Umm," Blaise glanced at Draco, and Ginny followed his gaze to see the blonde smirking in amusement at his house mate's obvious discomfort. She looked back to Blaise to see that he had straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin a bit, and was looking down on her in a way that she had seen the members of her family and the trio do on countless occasions - it was the 'I know what is best for you' look. "You needed to rest, I simply ensured that you received some... Besides, it's not like you have never used magic on me before." Blaise raised one dark brow, and Ginny rolled her eyes at the fact that he was still annoyed by her use of a calming charm on him the day some of the Gryffindors had turned on her.

"Fine," she ground out, but she made a note to herself to be wary of that 'big-brother' stance he had taken. Right now, she preferred to get out of Slytherin territory as soon as possible. More specifically, she wanted to get away from Draco Malfoy, whose steaming kisses she could still feel tingling the skin of her neck. "Let's go then."

Blaise simply turned and walked back to the dormitory door, while Ginny followed behind him. "Coming, Draco?" he questioned, turning back once he had reached the entrance. Ginny looked to the blonde, who was watching her with guarded eyes. She could not tell what he was thinking, but she worried that he may be regretting having kissed her as he had.

"No," he responded curtly, his eyes still trained on the red head. Ginny was not so sure she was happy with this response, although just moments before she had wanted to be out of his presence. She tried not to see his answer as a rejection to her, personally, but the return of his emotionally-detached mask stung deeply. She bit down on her lower lip, and turned away from the Slytherin Prince before he could see the pain in her eyes. She raised her eyes to Blaise, as he stood in front of her, glaring at Draco. She laid a light hand on his arm, forcing his sight to shift to her. She forced a smile she did not feel, and tilted her head to the side a bit to indicate that they should leave. Blaise nodded, cast one last look towards Draco - this one seemed to hold both anger and disappointment - before taking her hand and turning to leave the room.

Blaise led her down the stairs to the not-so empty common room. Pansy Parkinson stood from her seat on one of the sofas, and waited for the pair to reach her. She did not look surprised to see Ginny in the Slytherin common room. Ginny assumed that Blaise had already informed her.

"Where is Draco?" she questioned, looking a bit concerned. "Is he not coming for dinner?" Blaise only shrugged, obviously unwilling to discuss the topic of their fair-haired friend at the moment. Parkinson simply nodded, though Ginny could tell that the Slytherin had many questions she would want answered later. "Sleep well, Weasley?" she asked instead now. "Blaise said you were having a bit of a lie-down on his bed."

So that had been Blaise's bed? Hmm... "It was fine, Parkinson," she replied genially. She really was beginning to like the older girl.

"Good," Parkinson replied, and there was no hint of malice, scorn, or sarcasm in her tone. "We had better get to the Great Hall then," she continued, "dinner has already begun." Blaise nodded, and Ginny followed the two sixth year students to the Great Hall, entering with them, uncaring of her house mates' opinions.

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

Draco contemplated his position as he stared unseeingly up at the canopy above his bed. He knew that Blaise was upset with him, but he would deal with that later...

He had kissed Ginny Weasley.

Not her pink pouty lips... but he had tasted her fragrant flesh. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue as he discerned the flavor of her - slightly salty, but sweet - and recalled how her heartbeat had raced under his ministrations. Draco groaned, and tried to rid himself of the memories.

He should not have done it - he knew this. It was her fault really: she had laid her soft fingers on his lips, and all he could imagine was feeling more of her. She had quickly taken her hand away when she realized their positions, and she had looked so cute in her embarrassment that he could not hold in his amusement. But then she had smiled, capturing him, and he had just had to savor her, feel her, caress her. His desire for her at that moment had been too strong, and he could not resist the temptation that had been placed before him.

But it could not - and would not - happen again. He would have to stay away from her. He was still Draco Malfoy, descended from the noble lines of Black and Malfoy. She was a Weasley, for gods' sakes. He had duties and responsibilities, and honor to his family names that he must uphold.

But, gods, the taste of her still stayed on his tongue, and her drugging scent still invaded his pores. Holding her, nibbling on her pale milky neck had affected him more than even sex with some of his random girls ever had. He was somewhat grateful now that he had strategically avoided her delectable-looking lips, saving some of his sanity at least. Had Blaise not interrupted, however...

But Blaise had arrived, and Ginny had pulled away from him. She would not even look at him, and seemed much too eager to get away from him. So Draco had not followed down to the common room - he would allow her time to recover, as he himself had needed. Now that he was free of her presence - and much more capable of thinking clearly - he knew what he must do.

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

Ginny smiled as Luna spoke excitedly about a supposed sighting of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack that had been reported in this issue of The Quibbler. Apparently, her father would be taking her to South America this summer, to see if they could find the mythic creatures themselves. Luna, who had been quite disappointed when their search for Siberian Crupses over the Christmas holidays had turned out to be in vain, was quite hopeful for success on this new expedition. Ginny gratefully concentrated as her friend expanded on the properties of this beast, pushing all thoughts of smirking blondes out of her head.

Dinner had been uneventful - except for the random glares she received from other Gryffindors, especially the Dream Team. Relations with Slytherins were looked down upon, but Ginny did not care. She would not give up her friendship with Blaise for any of her house mates. So after a mostly silent meal with Colin and Neville, Ginny had met Luna at the entrance of the Great Hall, and the two girls decided to walk up to the Astronomy Tower, where they were sitting and chatting now.

Well, Luna was chatting, while Ginny tried to keep her mind from wandering to Draco Malfoy. She took a deep breath, and she could have sworn that his scent still surrounded her. This could not happen. He was a Malfoy, and she was a Weasley, and...

And he made her feel things she had never thought possible. Would it really be so wrong for them to be together: a Gryffindor and a Slytherin?

"Ginny?" Luna's voice cut through the red head's silent pondering. Ginny focused her glazed eyes on the girl before her once more, smiling a bit sheepishly as she was asked, "Were you listening?" Luna's face took on a worried look as she studied her friend. "What's wrong, Ginny?"

Ginny shrugged slightly. It was just like Luna not to be upset that Ginny had not been listening to her, but to instead be immediately worried about what was bothering the young Gryffindor. "It's nothing, Luna," she offered, knowing that Luna would not accept that response, but hoping to buy some time. She was right: Luna simply crossed her arms, and looked back at Ginny, waiting for her to admit the truth. Ginny sighed loudly, then quickly took out her wand to cast a silencing charm around them - it would not do for anyone to overhear this conversation... "Draco Malfoy... kind of... er-... kissed me," she stuttered out, staring at the floor. She looked up to see Luna watching her with a serene expression on her face.

"Was it nice?" was all she asked. Ginny was astounded - wasn't the Ravenclaw angry or disappointed that Ginny had been necking with a Slytherin?

"Umm, he kind of just sucked on my neck..." she looked to see if Luna was upset yet, but if her friend was angry, she hid it well. "It was nice, yeah," she admitted, allowing a small smile to return to her face.

"That's great, Ginny," Luna said sincerely. Ginny could not take it any longer.

"Luna! He is a Slytherin!" she exclaimed, unsure as to why she was arguing a point she usually defended. "And a Malfoy!"

"So?" Luna questioned. "I thought you were friends with Blaise Zabini?"

"I am friends with Blaise," Ginny confirmed, "but Blaise is not Draco Malfoy." She avoided looking in Luna's eyes by playing with the frayed ends of her robes. "It's just different with Draco," she finished quietly.

"Why?" It was a valid question. Why was it different with Draco?

Because she was not really 'friends' with Draco Malfoy, as she was with Blaise. She had never considered kissing Blaise, not since their encounter on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of the school year...

But with Draco - touching him, kissing him, being with him was all that she thought of...

"It's complicated," Ginny answered pathetically. Luna seemed properly unimpressed.

"I think it will be fine, Ginny," she offered in support. "He seems to be different this year, than he was before..." Ginny had to agree with her there. "Or perhaps his doppelganger returned to Hogwarts in his stead," she mused. Ginny simply laughed at that suggestion, and Luna offered a dreamy smile, obviously pleased with her friend's reaction. "So, how is your O.W.L. studying going?" she asked, smoothly and efficiently shifting the topic to the upcoming exams.

Ginny only groaned, and the two girls spent the next ninety minutes bemoaning the long hours of study, and too few hours of sleep. They finally decided to head back to their own common rooms, so as to be well-rested for the next day of classes. After leaving Luna in a hallway diverging paths to the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms, Ginny realized that she had Prefect rounds that night, so she decided to wander around for a bit before her shift would start. Luckily, she was not too tired due to the nap she had had that afternoon, and her duties aligned nicely with the fact that she did not particularly want to deal with her house mates, or the Dream Team, just yet.

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

He should not have skipped dinner, Draco decided, as he made his way to the kitchens from the dungeons. Curfew had begun ten minutes ago, but he was hungry, and needed nourishment, or he would never get any sleep that night. His trip to the kitchens was actually quite uneventful - he managed to stay out of the ways of Filch, Mrs. Norris, and whichever Prefect was patrolling the lower levels of the castle that night (another Prefect would be in charge of the upper floors, he knew). After satisfying his appetite, Draco left the kitchens, heading back to his dorm, only to come across the Prefect on duty. The fates had to be toying with him, he was sure, as he caught sight of the small red head a bit down the corridor. He stopped, and leaned against the wall, waiting for her to reach him, and chanting She's only a Weasley! repeatedly in his head.

"Draco," she said quietly, once she stood before him - he noticed she was avoiding looking at him. "What are you doing out of the Slytherin dungeons now?" He only shrugged, waiting for her to look up at him after the silent response. And she did. "I could take points, you know?" she smiled slightly, though he could tell she was nervous.

"You could," he replied simply, coolly. He tried not to bang his head against the wall as her smile faltered at his tone, and she looked away again. But this was what needed to happen - what had transpired in his room earlier could not be repeated.

"You should just get back to the dungeons," she suggested, moving to walk around him, probably to continue down the path of the hallway. He caught her scent as she passed, and - unthinkingly - he turned swiftly, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her around. He ignored her look of surprise as he pressed her back against the wall, leaning against her small form.

He shouldn't be doing this...

His eyes darkened as they focused on her tongue, watching it slide partially out of her mouth as she licked her lips nervously.

This was wrong...

He leaned his head down, resting his forehead against her own, locking his gaze with hers.

She was a Weasley; and he was a Malfoy, damnit...

He tilted his head, and felt her lashes brush against his cheek as her eyes fluttered shut in time with his own.

Gods, help him, because he could not stop...

He finally let his lips claim what they had craved for so long: her own lips.