Pride and Honor

The next day, Harry numbly followed through his routine, his mind too busy with the thoughts that ran rampant inside his head. During breakfast he spilled a good portion of his porridge down the front of his robe, he didn't even sarcastically respond to yet another one of Professor Trelawney's death predictions for him, and now he was in Potions staring blankly up at the board with the day's potion ingredients on it.

"Harry, are you even going to try to pay attention?" Hermione demanded, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"Hmm? Did you say something Hermione?"

Ron loudly set down his caldron. "Yes, she did, Harry. She wanted to know what's going on in that pea-sized brain of yours. Are you still thinking about last night?"

"No," Harry answered, but the light flush his face took told otherwise. "I was thinking about Quidditch practice."

"Honestly, Harry! Go join the 'I love Ginny Weasley' club if you're so smitten with her," Ron flopped down onto his stool and glared at his friend. "Of course, I don't think you're high on her well-liked list. Not if her outburst last night meant anything."

Harry scoffed, turning his attention to the potion he was supposed to brew. "I'm not smitten with Ginny, Ron. I'm just curious to know why she lied to us about the Pageant."

"Maybe she didn't want you to know about it, Potter," a cool voice replied. "Ever think of that?"

Harry raised his eyes to meet Malfoy's icy grey ones. The other boy matched the angry gaze he shot at him, casually leaning against the table, his fingers playing with the Gryffindor's quill. His lips slowly curved into a smirk as Harry refused to respond.

"It's not as if you paid her any attention anyway, Potter, so why does her little tirade last night bother you?"

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry finally replied, snatching his quill from the Slytherin's fingers. "This does not concern you."

Draco nodded slowly as if he finally understood what was going on. "That's right, why should you care about anything other than Harry Potter? Especially for someone as low as what little Weasley was to you. Just a little girl who adored the famous Harry Potter, always getting in the way, and being an annoying git at that. Don't worry Potter, your secret is safe with me." He paused, glancing from Harry to Ron, then back. "Oh wait, I don't think Weasley here knew that!"

The quill was crushed beneath Harry's fingers as he fought for control. He wanted nothing more than to whip out his wand and curse the other boy until he could curse him no more, but the fact that Professor Snape was glancing over at the group with interest gleaming in his eyes, he refrained. Still, Malfoy had no right to be talking about what happened between he and Ginny the night before.

"Malfoy." Harry's voice was low and controlled. "You have no clue what you are talking about, so bugger off before you regret it."

Draco leaned further onto the table, palms flat on the surface, eyes locked with the other boy. "Tell me Harry, how do you feel knowing that little Weasley now realizes that she meant less than pond scum on the bottom of your shoes to you? To all of you?"

"She's my sister," Ron growled. "She means lots more to me than pond scum."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Sod off, Malfoy. You know nothing of our friendship with Ginny."

Draco did not move his gaze from Harry's as the other two spoke. Instead, he kept his eyes tightly locked, absorbing all the hatred shining out of the Gryffindor's eyes and the knowledge that what he said was indeed true. "Be honest, Harry," he whispered. "You never really liked little Weasley. She was just a pawn to use to help you win the game, to be discarded when you didn't need her anymore." Something deep in his grey eyes flickered. "She proved her worth though, turning from pawn to queen for the other side, and now it's her turn to conquer you. Makes you sick, doesn't it? To know that there is someone out there who is better than you."

Harry said not a word as Malfoy spoke. He just sat completely frozen, unable to break eye contact as Draco told him like it was. What made him unable to respond was the fact that what he was saying, all of what he was saying, was true. So true that if he spoke it wouldn't be to deny it.

"You should've entered into the Pageant, Potter," Malfoy continued. "Of course, the reason why you didn't is obvious. You think that after defeating He Who Must Not Be Named when you were a baby, and practically surviving every time you faced him after that, that you were the best wizard alive. No one could be better than you, and to enter into the Pageant would only prove that. But you wanted to be 'Humble Harry,' The Boy Who Thinks Nothing of His Fame, but you do. Oh, you do."

"Why are you so interested in my sister, Malfoy?" Ron broke in.

Draco broke eye contact with Harry, turning towards him with surprise lit in his eyes. Quickly, he snuffed out the surprise, turning his gaze into a glare. "I'm not interested in your sister, Weasley," he huffed, gracefully rising from his leaning position and sending a glare to each Gryffindor in front of him.

Hermione caught his eye longer than he desired, staring intently into them as if she was searching through the depths of grey mist for his soul and his true feelings on the situation. Draco quickly turned from her penetrating gaze back to Harry, who still sat unmoving and in somewhat of a shock. The emotion shining out of his eyes was clearly read by Draco, though; he was beginning to realize his mistake in his poor treatment of Ginny.

"You better watch her, Potter," Draco murmured. "Or you're going to end up completely losing her to someone else."

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared after Draco in silence. Only when Professor Snape warned them of the little remaining time did they snap out of it and began chattering at once as they continued to work on their potion.

"I don't believe Malfoy!"

"Sprouting off lies as usual."

"Gah! What is with his sudden interest in Ginny?"

Hermione quieted, glancing at Harry and Ron as she carefully worded what she was about to say in her mind. "I think part of what he said was the truth, or rather a complete and obvious lie. He is interested in Ginny, I saw it in his eyes."

"Interested in using her for his own means you mean," Ron replied bitterly.

"I don't think that's-"

"Oh, come on Hermione," Harry cut in. "You know that everything that comes out of Malfoy's mouth is to directly hurt someone else. He doesn't have the ability to care about somebody."

Hermione shrugged. "If you say so. You didn't see it though."

"The lighting is poor in here," Ron explained. "It could've played tricks on you. Malfoy care about someone other than himself? That's a laugh."

*

Afternoon break was a welcomed retreat from the constant congratulations that Ginny received from her fellow classmates. Instead of hanging out in the Gryffindor Common Room as she usually did, an isolated corner of the library became her haven. It also gave her the opportunity to research the International portion of the Pageant, which she knew nothing about except for the little information Draco had revealed the previous night.

As she pored through the stack of books in front of her, Ginny's mind wandered back to the events preceding. It still amazed her that she had won the Pageant (granted she had to share it with Malfoy), but her joy was clouded as Harry's reaction played itself over in her mind. Honestly, what right did he have to act betrayed that she didn't tell him about her entering? After everything that he put her through, he felt that he had the right to act hurt. A soft growl left her throat at the thought.

"Is the book being mean to you, little Weasley?"

Ginny jumped at the familiar voice, raising her eyes to the cool grey, ones and shot Malfoy a glare. "Must you always sneak up on people? Or ask questions when they are not aware that you are there?"

Draco grinned, though only for a second so that if Ginny had blinked she would've missed it, as he slid into the chair across from her. "Part of my charm," he replied. As he propped his long legs onto the table, he slid the book out from in front of her to read it. "Reading up on the Pageant. Find anything interesting?"

The grey eyes looked up over the book, meeting her own and freezing her in place. It so surprised her to see the man in front of her acting so out of character that suspicion began to arise. "There isn't much to tell. I've been through these stacks twice already and they all say the same thing, nothing. Besides mentioning who qualified and who won, nothing else was said. Everything was kept extremely hush-hush."

He nodded thoughtfully as his gaze returned to the book. "I see."

For the next few minutes not a word was spoken between the two. Ginny watched as Draco's eyes soaked up the words on the page, his long fingers caressing the sides of the book as he flipped the leaf to read the other side. Finally, he slammed the book closed and slid it back across the table towards her, his arms following to prop his upper body casually against the sleek surface.

"Tell me, little Weasley, have you talked with Potter today?"

Ginny stood up and began straightening the books on the table. She felt his intense eyes on her, taking in all of her movements and processing each in his mind. "I actually have not spoken to Potter today, Malfoy, but I thank you for your concern over my life." She stopped moving the books when she noticed that he had stood as well, her eyes rising to meet the ones that she so carefully tried to avoid. The instant they connected, she knew it was the wrong thing to do. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes reading into hers. Her fierce brown orbs defiantly gazed back, yet uncertainty flickered within them as well. His piercing look was not the thing that made her uncertain, it was what she felt and thought about when she looked into his eyes. When Draco stared into her eyes, the grey mist bordered with ice and filled with pain and betrayal reminded her of her own pain, of Harry. Of the years lost because she thought he was better than what he really was.

Ginny wanted to tear her eyes from Draco's, to stop the onslaught of emotions, but was unable to. Her eyes clung to his gaze almost as if they were seeking solace inside of them. How they offered that comfort when his eyes ate up all the emotions that shone in hers, she did not know.

Finally, Draco tore his eyes from hers, the lids of his eyes falling closed for a brief moment as if fully absorbing all the emotions he took inside of himself from her, before opening and landing on the stack of books in front of her. His chest hitched as he tried to calm the raging feelings inside of him and his hands shook as he smoothed down the front of his school robe. It wasn't just her emotions that set him on edge; his own, ones he had never really experienced before, had their fair share.

"The Daily Prophet is here to take our photos for the article they are doing on the Pageant," he finally answered. "Professor McGonagall sent me to go and find you because you were late."

"Late?" Everything Ginny had experienced moments earlier was forgotten as Draco slid back into his usual self. "How could I be late if I did not know anything about it? Was that just another thing that you conveniently forgot to tell me about last night?"

Draco turned and started out of the library. "There were other things on my mind besides some silly photo shoot."

Ginny darted around the table to follow him. When she was standing next to him, closer than what she would have normally been a week ago, and oblivious to the stares from the other students around them, she replied. "That's right. Your father. Tell me, Malfoy, how did that conversation fare?"

"Far better than the one you had with Potter," he shot back and lengthened his stride.

Ginny doubled her steps, determined to keep Draco directly at her side. The shocked stares and whispers that followed them as they walked went unheard. All that mattered was that she come back with an equally biting remark to the one he'd dished out.

"Does that mean you finally earned his respect by entering a beauty pageant? I should've known that all Malfoys care about is their vanity."

"Since we actually have the money to do so," Draco retorted, immediately sensing the anger that vibrated off of her in waves from his comment. He knew that it was a low jab towards her, but it was justified considering the harsh attacks she threw at him. Yet he couldn't shake the growing feeling of guilt and empathy for the girl who silently walked next to him.

"Listen, Weasley," he paused, unsure of where he actually wanted to go with this sentence. The vulnerable man inside of him, that part that felt guilty, wanted to apologize for what he had said and somehow try to make it up to her, yet he couldn't bring himself to do so. The ingrained Malfoy side of him denied the request, and finished the sentence himself. After all, one shouldn't expect that empathy would ever rule a Malfoy, no matter how weak he might be. "Maybe if you used your winnings to clothe your family properly, people wouldn't think of you as low class as you are. Of course, nice clothing will never change who you are on the inside, so you should probably just forget about that idea."

Draco drew closer to a door which he swung open upon reaching it. He held it open and motioned for Ginny to enter with a nod. With fire in her eyes she faced him, her head so close to the bottom of his chin that she had to raise her face to stare into his eyes and he had to look down.

"Obviously it works since you succeed with it," she countered softly, brushing past him after a moment of heated, locked gazes to enter the room.

Draco watched Ginny introduce herself to the reporter and photographer from the Daily Prophet in shock. How many times in the last few days had she surprised him by responding just as coolly to his insults? As a matter of fact, how many times had it been since the term began? Far too many to remember, which only drove home the fact that he had sorely underestimated her. Ginny Weasley was not anything like the other Weasleys, nor was she anything like Potter. In fact, she had to be the first person that stood up to him and took him for the man he was inside, not the man his father had formed. She saw the faults that he tried so hard to conceal; she also made him feel emotions that he had never thought were possible to feel unless he was tearing someone down. He was so used to feeling numb all the time that this new development sent his mind whirling.

He walked further into the room, the door softly closing behind him. Once the photographer took notice of him, she directed him to a stool in front of a blank backdrop and began taking solo shots as the reporter interviewed Ginny. Much to his displeasure, his grey eyes flickered over towards her in between shots. He couldn't figure out why he was so interested in her; he had never been before. What had changed, and was there any way to go back?

"Miss Weasley?" the photographer said. "Whenever you are finished, I would like to get some shots of you and Mr. Malfoy together."

"We actually just finished," Ginny replied, walking towards the backdrop. "Where would you like me?"

"Right there next to Mr. Malfoy," the older woman directed.

Draco watched through hooded eyes as Ginny moved next to him. Once she was standing next to him he took the opportunity to look her over. Soft freckles dotted the bridge of her nose making her light brown eyes even warmer. So much emotion flickered in their depths, and he could read them all. Some emotions he was unfamiliar with feeling wise, but overall the depth of her emotions intrigued him. He remembered the anger that had blazed in them during her argument with Potter the previous night, then the tears that had rimmed them not ten minutes later out by the lake.

Why had he followed Ginny out to the lake? It was not in the Malfoy character to do so, yet he'd done it anyway. He had defied the man his father had made him to be to follow a desire the vulnerable man inside of him had. That man had wanted to make sure that she was all right, but what had formed the connection between him and her? What made her so damn special all of a sudden?

"Miss Weasley, can you put your foot onto the stool in front of Mr. Malfoy?"

Ginny did as she was asked, raising her leg to rest her foot on the stool. In doing so, it only brought her closer to Draco, practically touching him, and her already too short skirt rose even higher. Draco's eyes fell down to the thigh that was grazing his elbow, astonishment shining in them at the expanse of leg she was showing. He knew that the Weasleys were not one of the richest wizard families in Britain, nor were they the very poorest, but they were close considering the status of their youngest child's skirt.

Before he could check himself, the drilled in evil Malfoy spoke, much to the dismay of everyone in the room. "Tell me Weasley, have you not received new skirts since you entered Hogwarts? The length of the ones you are wearing would barely be modest for a first year."

Ginny's leg immediately fell from its position as her hands moved to try to pull her skirt as far down as possible, which was hardly a millimeter. Embarrassment tinged her cheeks from Draco's comment and the knowledge that while what he said was not entirely true, it had been a long time since her parents had bought her new skirts.

Satisfaction rose inside of Draco's eyes, not from Ginny's humiliation, rather for his ability to crush any weak feelings that he was having towards her. Having any kind of feelings toward a Weasley other than contempt would hardly be something that would benefit the Malfoy pride and honor. After all, it was because of the Malfoy pride and honor, and, according to his father, the lack thereof in him, that he was doing this. Just because he had something to prove to his father did not mean that he had to prove anything else to anyone else, especially a Weasley.

"Are we done?" Ginny finally managed to whisper through her mortification.

The photographer nodded in response, empathy shining in her eyes. "I believe I have enough photos for the story. Professor McGonagall wanted to speak with you two in her office when we were done though."

"Thank you for your time," the younger girl said, pulling her school robe tighter across her body. The inch of exposed ankle mocked her; the robe was too short to cover her completely and correctly. She forced a wobbly smile to her lips as she backed out of the room. From the corner of her eye, she saw Draco gracefully rise, bid his goodbyes and follow her.

Ginny turned from the door to bolt towards Professor McGonagall's office, but she was too late and Draco was there next to her, calmly walking as if nothing had happened. Of course, this was Draco Malfoy; the attitude he was exhibiting was nothing out of the ordinary. Still, she felt that they had connected on some level earlier at the library. She had practically wanted to fall into the grey mist of understanding in his eyes!

What just happened goes to show that even after six years of experiencing the most horrid Malfoy ever, there was no way that he could ever change. What she had seen in his eyes earlier must have been a trick of the lights. Draco Malfoy was not capable of any emotion other than hatred and disdain.

Professor McGonagall was sitting at her desk when the two Pageant winners entered her office. Whether or not she noticed the hurt and embarrassed look on the young Gryffindor's face, she did not react. Instead she motioned for them to sit down in the chairs in front of her desk.

"I asked you to my office because I need to discuss the International Pageant with you two," Professor McGonagall began. "We have been informed that it is to take place in a fortnight from tomorrow, and you will not be returning to Hogwarts until Halloween."

"What will we be doing there for that long?" Draco questioned.

The Professor pushed her glasses further up on her nose and peered at the Head Boy. "I do not know, Mr. Malfoy. As you know, the International Pageant is the most heavily guarded event in the entire Wizarding world. Nothing is leaked out, and if something was there is roughly a two hundred year span of time to change the event or to forget it was even mentioned."

"Why so secretive, though?" Ginny asked, scooting closer to the edge of her chair as the Head of the Gryffindor House spoke.

"Some say it is because of what goes on at the International level and the tests that one must go through. They are just not tests to win the competition, but tests of one's character as well. It has been told that they are extremely difficult, but no one is sure whether this is a fact or a rumor." The Professor shuffled through some papers on her desk. "You will take a Port Key during the first week of October and continue on to your destination of the International Pageant. During the time that you spend there you needn't worry about your Hogwarts school work, but I advise you not to slack off during these last two weeks before you leave."

She paused, intently staring at each of them in turn. "I also advise that when you arrive at the Pageant you appear to be nothing more than agreeable partners. Any disunity between you two will be seen by other contestants, and I can assure you that there will be some there that will not hold back in their suspicions and cause what rift you have with one another to widen even more."

With that said, Professor McGonagall rose from her chair, signaling that their meeting was over. "Have a good afternoon of classes."

Ginny and Draco rose, bid their goodbyes, and left the Professor's office. Not one word was spoken between them, even as they reached the main staircase and started for their respective dorms. Even if Draco had apologized for what he'd said in front of the photographer and reporter from the Daily Prophet, she would not have even paused mid-step to acknowledge that she heard him. Besides, the likelihood of Draco Malfoy apologizing was slim to none, heavily bordering on the none section.

Once she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she repeated the week's password and stepped into the common room once the portrait swung open. Just as her foot landed inside and her eyes had made a complete check of the people by the fireplace, she wished that she could turn around and walk away. It was too late, though. The noise, little as it may be, from the portrait swinging open attracted the attention of searing green eyes belonging to the one person she did not want to see at the moment. Harry Potter.

She sighed as he stood and made his way towards her. Deciding that it would be better to have a conversation, if any, with him inside of the common room with the door closed instead of in the doorway where everyone could hear, she finished stepping inside of the room. The portrait swung closed behind her leaving her trapped between the door and Harry who was now in front of her.

"Listen, Gin, can we talk for a minute?"

Ginny pasted an innocent expression on her face. "Oh, are Hermione and Ron not around? Is this why I'm visible to you now?"

Harry's jaw dropped at her statement, and his head slowly began to shake back and forth in denial. "Ginny, you're always visible to me."

She sarcastically smiled. "That's right, I am. It's just a shame that while I am visible to you, I'm invisible to any conversation or attention by you when other people are around." Her smile faded and her face became completely blank. "What do you want, Harry?"

"I want to talk. I've been thinking about what I said and how I acted last night, and it wasn't fair to you. I should've been more supportive."

Ginny stared into Harry's eyes trying to see if he really thought he was successful in pulling this over her eyes again. She could see the strained earnest expression in his eyes and took a deep breath, which she immediately let out. She had learned her lesson the hard way. Harry Potter cared only about himself, and of course Ron and Hermione. Anybody else was not on his caring radar unless they benefited him, and right now, she was the target of his caring.

"You're right, it wasn't fair to me," Ginny acknowledged. "Nothing in our so called friendship was fair to me, Harry."

Hurt filled his face, but his eyes remained blank. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ginny."

Ginny closed her eyes and scoffed softly. Typical of Harry to do this, act the innocent bystander who only wants to be your friend, then stab you in the back later. Slowly her eyelids rose, her brown eyes murky with emotion. "Listen well, Harry, because I am only going to tell you this once. You are an insufferable git who proved to me last night how much I really meant to him. Now, you're trying to get back on my good side so that you reap some of the benefits that I am receiving." Harry's eyes darkened, but she was too caught up in what she was saying to notice. "It's not going to work, Harry. I would rather kiss Malfoy than to ever be your friend again. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get my bag or else I'll be late for Potions."

Ginny angrily stepped around Harry and headed up the staircase towards her room. He watched her leave, his eyes still dark and intense. How she knew what she did about him, he did not know. There was only one person to ever suspect that he wasn't as nice as he made himself out to be, and that was Malfoy. He wouldn't put it past the man to mention something to Ginny just to make his life even more of a hell.

"We all get our comeuppances, Malfoy," Harry muttered. "And when yours comes along, you can be sure it will be me who gives it to you."