Last Time...

Last time...

The last time I looked into the mirror, it told me to finally brush my hair, get moisturizer, change the black clothes for brighter ones, do something about the dark circles underneath my eyes and for Merlin's sake, eat more.

I think it meant I should eat healthier food.

My brother doesn't notice the first thing about me eating too much or not enough. How should he? He sits with the Ravenclaws at dinner, mostly. Alright, she is a nice girl, but who would've thought Ron Weasley would abandon the Gryffindor Table and his best friends (aka The Scheming Trio) for a girlfriend?

Actually, I did. When I first saw him talking to the Ravenclaw girl, and again later as I watched him talking about her.

Harry and Hermione are a bit taken aback, I guess, even if they won't show it.

Love.... I wonder if my brother's in love.

Is it love? Can he, the immortally immature, fall in love? Hm.

***

The last time I checked my notes they were in the Library, along with a couple of books such as Goblin Wars and the Results for Lichtenstein During 1230-1455. I swear that I had a dozen or more books on my study desk, which would rival a homework session of Hermione's.

Heck, who knew there were more than two books about this ... interesting topic?

I really need to go and get them right now. Professor Binns may take points from my House or worse, he could make me his personal assistant for a month. Ugh.

Damn it, is it past curfew yet? How should I know, I don't own a watch. Oh. Movements in the shadows, maybe I'll get these notes tomorrow morning with lots of friends to help me through dark corners....

Phew. The Library. Sanctuary.

"Who's there?" asks a male voice. Damn.

"Hello? I want to know as well...."

"Weasley girl? Fetching. Strutting around past curfew, but that can't stop a true Potter follower, can it? He always struts around whenever he likes, too...."

The person snarls. Literally. Must be....

"Malfoy. Well. I just came here to collect these ... and this one ... darn, two others fell on the floor ... gotcha. Need to go. Bye," I say and retreat.

His wand illuminates us and the desk I occupied earlier today, he seems to look me up and down.

Well there'll be a witty remark soon. Here it comes....

"Tisk tisk. That will be five points for walking around past curfew and not being Prefect or Head Girl. As I recall you are neither, and I should know as I am both."

"You are Head Girl? I knew it! It's the hair, you know, it tells...." Oops. Might have gone too far.... But it just called for it.... I wince. Malfoy looks downright terrifying now.

"Five points! That's for insulting your betters!" he hisses.

I shut my mouth. Better be quiet or else I'll lose my temper. Could get quite nasty if I did and he did and I don't like to explain lost points....

"You are quiet. Good. Finally come to know your place, eh?" He seems to ponder his words.

"That's the first time since school started and you've actually stopped talking back. Are you perhaps ill?"

"Nothing of your concern, Mr. Prefect, Ms. Head Girl and Mr.Head Boy." There-― I've done it.

Darn. How many points this time...?

"And here goes another five points from Gryffindor...." He shakes his head. "Too easy. I hope you'll be more of a challenge tomorrow at the game." With these words, he walks away.

***

The last time I wore these robes Gryffindor beat Slytherin enormously. This is the first game for us this season; we're rather late to start in November.

I sigh. Another classic round of Gryffindor versus Slytherin, how fun.

Honestly, everyone acts like it's a matter of life and death or the final war between good and evil-- all the time. It's just Quidditch.

Phew, good that Ron can't hear me, he'd otherwise preach about Quidditch NOT being a game but the lifestyle. Ugh.

I wonder how Ron will react when we get to play against Ravenclaw?

Uh. Yes, Captain, we'll give our best.

Finally flying again.

The game starts. Go Ginny.

We do a few well rehearsed moves, then I try to see Malfoy. There he is, hovering above his team's goals. Little coward.

I motion my fellow Chasers to get higher and naturally the Beaters need to gain altitude as well... here we are. Pugy Parkinson, try to out fly me when I do this....

I spiral into the sky. Endlessly. Then, I dive, fellow teammates following me, and whack! I hope the Bludger scared Malfoy, thee hee, and now my speciality.

Weasley's Wallowing Windknocker No. Two.

Score. What else?

***

The last time I talked to Malfoy, he was congratulating me on my special flying skills. I mean, hello? He. Talked. To. Me. That means, he acknowledged that a) I am a person, b) I can fly and play Quidditch, and c) I am a girl.

Merlin. His eyes. Now I begin to understand why so many girls at Hogwarts drool over him.

He really makes you aware of the fact that you are alone with him in a hallway, a girl, and actually in need of a boyfriend again....

I shudder.

Mustn't think of Malfoy and boyfriends in one sentence. No good.

I am a bit proud, too, because I know I can fly. The rest of the school loves the spectacle and I like to show off. But he told me I really could fly. Yep.

He even asked me if I had named a few of my moves and I kinda sheepishly explained it to him. Me, sheepish in front of Malfoy? There's something royally wrong. Must control face in front of Malfoy.

I think he even laughed― no, chuckled― when I explained what 'Windknocker' means. He also said that he is glad not to be my opposing Keeper. Yeah. Better be glad.

My mirror told me today that I looked a bit better now. I felt like crushing it, but there are four other girls in my dorm, alas.

Hermione asked me if I knew whether or not Ron was serious about that Ravenclaw. Mhm. I wonder what that is supposed to mean. Did Harry want to know but was too cowardly to ask his best friend (Men. Always hiding behind skirts)? Or did Hermione really want to know for herself?

I need to talk to Luna about it, maybe she knows the Girl In Question better....

Okay. Ravenclaw Tower. Walk straight ahead and take the first staircase on your right upwards. Whoopie. This one turns to the left. Now I need to find my way agaaaaain....

A couple of students pass me. I barely notice them. Damn it, where should I turn now?

Frantically, I look around.

"Lost, Weasley?" comes a voice behind me.

I spin around. "Well, no, technically not. We are still at Hogwarts, right?"

"I sometimes wonder if you are.... Anyways. Where to?" Malfoy says.

"Um, Ravenclaw Tower. Why?" I say back suspiciously. What is he up to?

"Go straight ahead, walk down the stairs, turn right and walk straight again. Should be right in front of you then."

Silence.

Did he just tell me the way? And here I thought Malfoys wouldn't even tell Weasleys the date... I think, I stare at him. How rude. How rewarding.

He looks a bit annoyed then and starts talking again: "Come on. I told you the truth. As a Prefect I need to take care of students. ALL the students. Even Hufflepuffs. And, occasionally, Gryffindors."

Merlin. That sounded like an invitation.

"Sure. Why not. Thanks. Bye," I stutter and walk away.

***

The last time I went home for the Christmas break things were quite shaken up, what with the war coming up and everybody being afraid. Bill actually came home for once and he brought his fiancé Fleur with him.

My mother was happy to have the Burrow all filled again. Harry stayed with us, Hermione visited, Luna stayed overnight and all my brothers, except pompous Percy, where home.

Home.

What a warm feeling. Home is where the heart is, and mine is certainly with this house and these people.

I wonder if love feels similar to this? Like coming home? Someone once told me. Oh. Fleur it was. The Veela. No― Fleur, my future sister-in-law. I hope Harry, Ron and Hermione will see her as a woman and not as an annoying French twit soon. She certainly deserves it.

What a cozy Christmas it was with my friends and relatives. I wished I could stop time and capture that week forever.

***

The last time I listened to Dumbledore's welcome speech it was horrifying and full of angst and concern. Now he is talking about serious and then happy things. I am glad.

I look around. Malfoy looks at me. Oh.

I wink. He nods.

So, are we friends now? Or finally starting to behave civilly towards each other? Can Malfoy, the ever evil, actually be civil?

I'll find out. I hope.

Funny, when did I begin to look forward to anything concerning Malfoy?

I glance around again, covertly. Most expressions of the people beside and across me are

set. They aren't smiling or serious─it seems that they are listening carefully, not allowing themselves to be overjoyed about the good news and yet not completely afraid of the things Dumbledore is describing calmly.

Tense people. A tense school.

I see Harry, his face is expressionless too. It's his last year at this magical school.

He told me he was glad to be leaving Hogwarts soon for it meant the students wouldn't be in such danger anymore with him around. And with the same breath he said how sorry he was to have this time ended. His childhood, except it never was a childhood―he has been training to defend Voldemort since his first year; there wasn't much to enjoy, I guess.

Strangely, he doesn't seem screwed up in my eyes. There had to be some happy moments, some joyous, some brilliantly fun.... You can see it in his face that he loves Hogwarts, his second home.

But ever the chosen hero, he fears for its inhabitants.

It was then that I told him to go and hold his head into a bucket of cold water; students weren't in that much more danger just because of him. I pointed out that Dumbledore was a vivid threat to Voldemort as well; what great General wouldn't try to raid his enemy's headquarters?

And Harry, remember, we are backing you. Forever.

We have no choice other than to fight along with you, because you leave us none.

With your bravery, courage, determination and belief that there will be a happy ending, we follow you blindly.

I don't remember when I started to think of Harry as The Hero and not as MY Hero anymore. Thank goodness, I am getting older and more mature.

No silly crushes anymore, nothing but serious thinking.

***

The last time that I had sneaked into the Prefects' bathroom, Hermione had been furious that I could do such thing.

What thing? I asked her, a bit curious because I thought she was talking about Serious Rule Breaking With Potential Danger.

The Head Girl was a bit upset with me; so I figured that I shouldn't tell her that I had overheard her conversation with Ernie Macmillan when they decided on the new passwords.

Hah. Hermione practically invited me to use the bathroom!

Now it is closed. Darn. And I was so looking forward for a good soaking session with bubbles, floor heating, the cosiest towels ever and of course singing aloud with no one ever

noticing it.

I muse if I should knock or hastily retreat, for I am really not a Prefect after all.

Crap. The door opens.

Is that Malfoy?

I take a quick step back and giggle. Malfoy. With a towel wrapped turban-style around his head.

Oh. And a towel around his hips and legs....

What now?

"My, are we impatient today. I am finished. You may enter," he says. I am gaping, I fear.

"Uh. Why thank you. So you'll just run along lest you catch a cold, no?" I manage to ask.

"I had intended to. Unless you wish me to keep you company, I can go back in there..." he slowly says and smirks.

I rack my brains for an answer, try to think sideways and also to control my body. I fail. I blush.

"Calm down Weasley. Enter. Alone," he states and half bows me into the room.

I shut the door and close my eyes.

I inhale. There is still this kind of male scent lingering in the air....

As I open my eyes, I fuss around to make sure NO ONE can enter while I am here, then I decide what kind of bath I wish to have, illuminate some candles, and glide into the tub. Sigh.

Why the heck didn't he inquire what I was doing, anyway? He knows I am not a Prefect and actually have no right to use this great bathroom.

Merlin, does that mean I owe Malfoy one? Horrible thought. Shocking.

The evil little git, I bet he did that to trick me. He even might have observed me to slip into the bathroom before.... Stop thinking, Ginny, it'll only hurt.

I am getting even worse than the Terrific Trio at their favourite game: If I was Malfoy (God beware), where would I hide my daddy's Death Eaters and what would I plan all day long.

Think of something nicer.

His body. His abs. His muscular arms.... Splash. Sputter. I dive into the water, may it clear my dirty thoughts.

Great. And my next questions to myself will be ... ah, here it comes.

What does he think of me? What did I look like, to him? Does he like my hair or really despise it? Why couldn't I have worn school-robes instead of orange PJs? What am I going to do now? Why should I change? Will I be thinking silly questions like this the whole night long? Scratch that. Make it weeks.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Is this going to be unrequited love or just silliest crush ever?

***

The last time I talked with Luna, it was about Ron's girlfriend. Lasting girlfriend, it seems. But that was a quick chat about others rather than ourselves.

When did I have my last good chatting session with my Ravenclaw friend? Shoot. I don't remember it, so it must be some while ago.

I feel guilty about it. Abandoning Luna? No way! I guess we were both busy and ... er, busy.

She has been studying for the upcoming exams no doubt. Which is a good kind of being busy.

I have been stalking, er, observing Malfoy. Which is a very bad kind of being busy.

I decide it's time to go and find the girl to talk with her. Merlin, I don't even know what classes she is taking!

So, Ravenclaw Tower it is.

I wince. Last time I went there, Malfoy was there as well. Mhm. I wonder if he's got a girlfriend and if she is a Ravenclaw?

I check my feelings. There is this little, tiny sting of jealousy I detect.... Bad sign.

But I reach my goal without further incident. Phew. Alas.

I ask Padma, who just stepped out of the tower to fetch Luna. She sighs and goes inside again and after a few minutes, the blond Ravenclaw comes out to greet me.

I propose a walk down to the kitchens, which she readily agrees to.

After a couple of minutes, we talk to each other like there has never been a break before. I am glad to have Luna. She is more fun than Hermione, as smart and a great observer.

Which doesn't mean I don't like Hermione, too; she's just too occupied with my brother and Harry that she barely speaks to me privately.

I ask Luna what she's been up to, and I was right about studying too much. And she and her dad were almost sure that they discovered a new species of Pixies. I laugh as she describes them. Maybe I should join one of her adventurous hikes with her dad, just to have a good time.

We reach the well-known painting and tickle the well-known pear. The first thing I always notice about the Hogwarts kitchens is the smell and the noise. Wonderful.

Luna and I decide to sit down in a booth that is half-hidden and not detectable on first sight.

We do like our privacy and besides, I am not sure what the teachers would say if they knew I frequently come down here.

One house elf approaches us. "How may we serve misses?" she asks.

"Um, is Dobby around?" I say to keep her from getting a stroke over being too eager to help.

"Dobby is serving other student right now, will keep Dobby busy. How may I serve misses?" the little creature answers.

Darn. I would rather have Dobby around me, he is used to me by now, and besides, he still feels guilty about me being stuck in the Chamber of Secrets. Even when I tried to explain about a hundred times that it wasn't his fault whatsoever. But he insists on feeling guilty because he couldn't tell Harry what I was up to and that it was me who opened the Chamber.

Says he knew his then-masters plans but couldn't interfere. Which I know.

It's kind of arduous to talk with him about this topic. But he keeps his little mouth shut, and would never tell anybody I visit the kitchens at every hour and brings all my favourite sweets and juices.

So. Luna tells the house elf to just get two big mugs of hot chocolate and some slices of cake, that's all, thank you very much.

Soon after that, the inevitable topic comes up: Boys.

My thoughts are racing, I don't know if I should tell Luna about Malfoy; whatever IT is. Me stalking him, he being civil to me.... Even I have no idea what is going on.

So I decide not to say anything about that.

Luna told me she had a crush on Ron, about a year ago. I was surprised; well, I generally am when a girl tells me my brother is cute. Ugh. But then, I guess he's a kind of male that many girls find attractive: Tall, muscular, not too thick or too thin, a brilliant hair color (even if mine is still the better one), and his face is kind of nice, without pimples and the like. But his character.... I guess I shouldn't talk about my brother and romance.

I take a sip of my hot chocolate; then Luna and I talk some more.

"Well, well, if that isn't a sight. The red vixen and the blond loony," an unfriendly voice interrupts us. I glance up. Malfoy. Ugh. My stomach tightens. What the hell? Since when did he affect me ... like that? Isn't stomach-tightening just for people in love or with a gut-virus?

"Good day, Malfoy. Where did you come from?" Luna inquires friendly.

Malfoy stares at her, a bit irritated. "None of your business, lunatic one."

Then, Dobby comes around a corner, with a package in his hands. "Mr. Malfoy, do not forget the fudge! Dobby has just packed it for Mr. Malfoy!"

Slowly, Malfoy looks down at the House elf and says with dignity, "Well done, but I asked you to put it directly into my chamber."

Is it just me or does he sound embarrassed?

He quickly looks at us again. Fiercely, he says, "You have no business here, leave at once or I'll draw points form both your Houses!"

"Certainly, Head Boy," Luna says, "I'll just tell you how to keep fudge tender for a bit longer than two days...."

I clamp a hand over her hand. "Let's go!" I hiss and try to shove Malfoy aside, who is blocking my way.

I touch him with my shoulders; they reach a little underneath his; his hand suddenly lies lightly on my back, giving me the littlest hint of a shove himself, but almost caressingly so. I look up to him, searching his face.

Then the moment is over.

Luna follows me. Over her back, she calls back: "You really should store the fudge somewhere near the fireplace, or it will be hard tomorrow!"

I wince. I am sure Malfoy will get really angry now, it clearly wasn't intended by him to get caught with fudge. He, of all people. With sweets.

I look back. He just stares thoughtfully at me.

I turn around and flee.

***

The last time I wrote into a diary, it was bad news. Really bad news.

So I decided long ago to never, ever touch one of those vile things again. So why do I find myself in a sudden need of a journal? Where I can write my innermost thoughts into? In which I could confide in?

Is it because I haven't told anyone about my thing with Malfoy yet?

Yep. I guess that's it.

But I will always choose hiding feelings over write into a diary.

I really should talk with Luna about this. Come on, I have to tell someone, I'll burst if I don't do it! I will spill my secrets to Ron if I can't do something about it! This is so frustrating!

I am thinking in exclamation marks!

Stop doing that Ginny!

See, I giggle. At least I can amuse myself.

I pace my dorm. My dorm-mates shoot me weird looks. They roll their eyes; they know that I can be complicated. Endearingly complicated.

"So. Spill. Now." Alexa is commanding.

I sigh. Just for the dramatic effect.

"Okay ladies, there is this guy..." I begin, but at this point, Sylvia interrupts me rudely: "A BOY! Who would've thought! Don't tell me: You like a boy!" She likes being sarcastic, but most of the time she doesn't get it right. It's her voice. It's so whiney.

"Yes, my dears, I like a boy. Or I think I like him. Does anyone understand the difference?"

Alexa again: "Don't be silly, Gin. So. There is a boy, you don't know if you should like him or not."

"Got it in one."

Sylvia, who had been thinking, says, "That's easy. Go tell him."

I stare at her. I can't help saying, "You are being sarcastic, right?" And I mean it as a question, not a rhetorical one, because honestly I have no clue what Sylvie is thinking.

Alexa shoots me another look, to warn me. She is always the mediator, the calm and mature one.

"I think it's up to Ginny if she wants to tell us everything about this guy or if she just wants to go and make him her boyfriend. Or if she just needs another person to know that she is confused." She pauses. "Darn, I sound like an adult."

I only nod for an answer. To all she said.

"Um, thanks, ladies, but I think I should catch some fresh air. I'll be off then, and I'll see you at dinner, right?"

I am leaving; I only hear Sylvia's surprised "She likes fresh winter air, doesn't she?"

I summon my gloves and my scarf; of course it's winter and therefore cold. And that means chilly, crisp air.

Wonderful.

I step outside the Great Hall and onto the stairs that lead to the grounds, the Quidditch Pitch, and Hagrid's Hut.

Of course I can't go any further than the stairs―Dumbledore has forbidden it. And I do what the Headmaster says. Mostly.

I inhale the air. The cold burns in my lungs. I love that feeling. Partly because I know I can instantly go back into the warmth and partly because it feels so clean and right.

Can I allow myself to think about Malfoy now? I know I wish to, because I can then see the problem from all angles. Well, I can manage to stay objective, really!

What do I feel?

Nothing too complicated: After a long time (4 months) a boy talks nicely, erm, civilly to me and gives me the impression I am important enough to be noticed. I like that. Still, I don't know why I want to reward this boy with my undying love, but.... Hormones. Nerves. Argh.

Sometimes, being sixteen is quite difficult.

To solve all this, I shouldn't get too excited when, IF, Malfoy talks to me again. Control myself. Thinking about pink-haired babies and marriage in white and gold will be allowed after the first kiss.

I smile into the afternoon. I am laughing really hard, inwardly. I like my weird kind of humour.

***

"The last time I saw you, Weasley, you were standing outside the Main Doors, laughing. Alone."

"I didn't know you cared, Malfoy!"

"Why are you laughing when there is no one around? Have you gone mental at last, hanging around Loony Lovegood too much or is it in your genes?"

"I never knew you cared!"

"Stuff it. I am demanding to know something, you have to tell me. Or else I will draw points."

"Oooh, you care! Alright, alright. Don't do anything stup―Er, I mean please don't take points from Gryffindor. We are behind."

"So you are. Not much of a chance this year to win...."

"Malfoy, you are aware that school won't end until July? Which gives Gryffindor five months, I repeat: Five Months, to get even with the bloo―nice Slytherins?"

"Ha. You wish. I don't know why Gryffindor wins the stupid cup every year, it's just fair that Slytherin gets a chance this year."

"Stupid cup? Oh come on, it irks you that you never won before. So the cup is suddenly stupid. How mature."

"Oh, we will win this year. Mark my words."

"Blah blah, mark my words.... That sounds too much like you learned the phrase, the voice, and that stern frown by heart. No sinister impression made on me, I can tell you. Hey, you aren't cheating this year, are you?"

"Why is it that Weasleys always talk about things they know nothing about?"

"How come you know what we say? Do you actually listen to everything Ron or I say? How sweet. I didn't know you cared so much!"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

.

.

.

"Argh! Just forget it, Malfoy. Go chase some ... students."

"Don't you walk away ... like that. Stupid girl. Hey! How many times do I have to tell you ickle firsties NOT to run in my presence! It gives me a headache to listen to the sound of your cheap shoes! That's five points from Hufflepuff!"

***

The last time I felt so energetic, or better, hyper, I won a Quidditch game. Why is it that the conversation with Malfoy left me hyper? And angry? Okay, they always used to make me angry, because before he was a git and insufferably so.

Or was he?

Or is he still?

What the hell has changed?

Why am I so ... full of energy, so high? I feel I can tackle a Hungarian Horntail. Simply because of how angry and ... frustrated I am. Okay. Scratch energetic, make it frustrated.

Sigh.

I thought ... I almost thought he ... would ... nearly there ... no. Shake these thoughts off your mind, Ginny.

It won't happen. Pity.

I am sitting in our Common Room, in front of the fire. The door opens, and as I look over, I see Ron entering it.

"Oi! Favourite brother! Over here!" I cry.

Ron raises his eyebrows and follows my biding.

"Ginny. What have you done? Or what are you going to do, that you suddenly need a favourite brother?" he asks, mimicking my voice.

"I wanna talk to you...." I mumble.

"So talk."

"How are you, for instance and what's up with your girlfriend, whatshername?"

"Her name is Siobhán, and we are well, thank you."

"Good. And ... what about Harry and Hermione?" I prod on.

"Oh, we are okay. It's not as if I have to spend every second with them, you know? Even some little Ravenclaws thought so. Can you believe that?" He shakes his head. "I am my own person."

"I know," I say softly. This was always a touchy topic for Ron.

"Ron, how did you know you were in love?"

Fine, now I've done it: I get a Brotherly Look.

"It's hard to say. She caught my eyes, you know, when I was in the Library studying with Hermione. She is in my year and I was totally shocked that I never noticed her before. So I talked to her. Can you believe that, Ginny?"

"What, you standing up and talking to a girl you like? No."

"But there you are," he continues, "I just said hello and asked what she was studying for. We met after that at a couple of times, and then ... well. I asked her out."

"And now you are in love?" This is a serious question. I think he knows that as well, because he takes his time to answer.

"I think I might have been in love from the first moment I saw her, but now, it's something more. Real love? I can't say, I never felt like this. I do love her beauty, but also her intelligence, her laugh, her hands when they hold a book, her walk, her smiles that are just for me, the way she smells, the way she makes me listen to everything interesting ... her touch. Her eyes. I do think I love her. Don't tell anyone, mind you," he says as an after thought.

"Why?"

"Because I will tell everyone myself how much I adore this girl."

"Fair."

"Why are you so interested in my love life, anyway?"

"Not in your love life in particular; just love per se."

"Aaah." He makes a knowing-noise.

Maybe he really knows what he is talking about.

"Ron, I like this guy, but he's never made any move on me...."

"I'd hope so. Or I will beat him to a pulp."

"Stop saying that! I don't want you to scare future boyfriends away!"

He smiles. "Well, I didn't do it with Michael, or Dean, or Keith did I?"

Oops. That shuts me up. He is right; he always talks about no-boy-will-ever-touch-you-lil-sis, but in the end ... he lets me do what I want to.

"Yeah. Right. That's true. I never thanked you for that, did I? You really deserve to be my favourite brother."

"Ginny, as much as I enjoy our conversation, don't you think you should talk with a girl? Your age?"

"Mhm. Probably. But I thought you'd be an expert on this fruitless topic."

He laughs. "You are so funny. No experts found on this one, love."

"This boy is something special, I know that much. I would like to talk with him, but the problem is we never manage more than some sentences before the other one is ticked off."

"He should keep his hands to himself anyway, or I will beat him to a pulp! No messing with my sister if I can help it!"

He stands up, ruffles my hair, and leaves. Ouch, my hair is far too long to be ruffled through.

I snort. "Yeah, a pulp. Right."

Secretly, I think he would duel with Malfoy to death about this. Shoot.

It makes me shiver. I don't want my family getting involved with this, I mean not more than they were involved with the Keith-matter or something. Maybe as involved as a family generally is if the only girl brings a boy home.

That kind of involved.

With Malfoy it would be a different thing.

Theoretically speaking of course, because Malfoy and I aren't Malfoy and I yet.

Where did this "yet" come from?

Darn. I think too much of it. Him.

It's all wishful thinking.

***

The last time I heard Hermione screaming, she was fearing for her life at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry. But now, she yells at the top of her lungs it seems. What the heck has happened?

Calm Hermione, so pissed off?

I hope everything is alright, this sounds like a serious quarrel. I wonder ... oh, that's two male voices now. I bet this is between the Trio.

I am glad that the Head Girl gets her own room and we don't have to follow this row in the Common Room. Some fellow Gryffindors have already raised their heads, to see what is going on.

I decide to flee.

Still, the image of an enraged Hermione comes along with a feeling of uneasiness. What if someone has died? What if someone is injured? What if Ron burnt her homework? What if

Harry tried to leave the school to go hunting for Death Eaters?

I really need to calm down myself.

Where should I go? I know, the kitchens. Best place to be if you want to avoid school, people or just your life.

I haven't seen Malfoy for a week now. Maybe he is avoiding me. I hope so. I am afraid so.

I need some chocolate.

After I am through the kitchen doors, Dobby comes up and asks me what he can do for me. I order chocolate cookies and milk.

I go to my usual spot to sit down.

I munch cookies and drink milk.

I watch the house elves.

I feel restless.

Need to regain my equilibrium.

And I want to talk to someone who doesn't know the Trio as well as I do.

I am still restless.

So I give up sitting in the cosy warmth and leave.

Dobby wants to pack the cookies I haven't finished and send them to my room. I can only shake my head and I am out.

I find myself at the top of Astronomy Tower. It's dark now, and very cold. Should've brought my coat. I mumble warming spells and stare at the sky.

When I say the top of the Tower, I mean it. Over the platform where students normally stand by their telescopes and observe the stars, is a little staircase that leads to the roof. There is a little space, I like to sit down there and think.

Duh. Obviously.

It should be around eight o'clock now. Still an hour left until curfew.

I hear the door open. Gosh, no snogging students please! I couldn't take the sight. Me, being frustrated with love and what not.

Steps. Swishing of a cloak. A sigh.

I hope the person underneath me won't attempt suicide now while I am hidden in the dark observing their death.

Morbid thoughts. Where did they come from? Right. Hormones.

I think I should do something so that the other person notices they aren't alone up here. So I stand up and walk down the stairs, loudly, and around the corner.

A very surprised Malfoy stares at me.

How wonderful.

I nod and want to walk past him. He opens his mouth, but I am quicker: "It isn't past curfew, I am perfectly allowed to be up here, and if you won't close your mouth a mosquito could fly into it."

"I was going to ask if you weren't cold."

"Oh. No. Warming spells."

He nods. In the pale moonlight, he looks serious.

I look at him. Moonlight doesn't only suite females; it's quite fetching on him as well. It makes him look forbidden and beautiful.

"Anybody else up there I should know about? I didn't mean to interrupt a private meeting."

"No, just me. We are alone, Malfoy."

Did that sound too obvious? Too inviting? Too stupid?

"I see."

We are still standing apart from each other, his back to the walls, mine to the door. Exit. How easy it would be to just turn around and leave.

"I will go now. Have a good time up here with the night," I say and there, I turn around. I knew I could do it.

With a few quick steps, he is at the door and holds it open for me.

I don't even raise an eyebrow to show my surprise, I just let him.

It is after all a nice feeling to have someone to hold open doors for you.

Again, his hand touches my back ever so lightly as I walk past him. He follows.

How easy would it be to stop walking, waiting until he is directly behind me so I could lean my head on his shoulders.

How easy it would be to break the silence.

How easy it could be to start crying and seek comfort in his arms. Here, where we are all alone in the dark, only torch light accompanying our way down the stairs.

How hard life spits into your face.

I quicken my pace, bounce down the stairs and as I open the other door, I turn once more and say lightly, "See you."

I leave. I am gone.

***

The last time I felt this depressed it was because within a week, Harry screamed at me out of exasperation, declared his love for Cho Chang, was injured at a Quidditch match and made up with me because he felt guilty.

Guilty.

That was the only feeling I ever provoked in him. Guilt.

That must have been in my second year; I felt like scum and I was so worried about the Wonder Boy that my marks suffered severely. And then, something snapped and I was able to give up my crush.

Just like that.

Yet still, Harry had made me feel miserable for so long, it was hard to give up worrying over him. I have never ceased to fear for him, even now.

But now it's from a different angle, it's because I support him or plainly the Boy Who Lived.

Still, he caused me a sadness and that I will never forget. I am not blaming him, the blame is all on me. However since my enlightenment, I have lived quite happily and have had no reason to be sad at all.

Okay, there were those flings with other boys, but I never loved them the way ... I loved Harry. I know now it was a child's love, but it was very powerful nonetheless.

Why am I depressed now?

Is it really depression I suffer from, or do I just recognise the beginnings of another kind of this ... love?

I feel dispirited.

Again, my schoolwork isn't at it's best and my friends give me weird looks whenever I snap at them or ignore them completely. Sad.

That's a bit low, not noticing friends and appreciating their offer to help.

I feel drawn. Drawn to Malfoy. Drawn to a kind of love where I don't even know if it exists on both sides. He wouldn't, he couldn't ever love me, I guess, and I? I am being confused.

Royally confused, since I have no idea what I should feel. What I could feel for someone who tormented me my whole school-life long and suddenly is civil to me. Am I that weak? To fall for someone who gives me a tiny bit of attention?

I really must be starving for love.

Maybe I should follow Sylvie's advice: Go and talk to him. Either I'll make a complete fool out of myself, or ... or what?

To hell with it.

Mhmmm.... If I am at the Library, what would be the best way to get into the Dungeons?

***

"The last time I saw you, Malfoy, you were being nice. So. What's up with that? Are you ill or something?" Oops, I didn't want to be totally obnoxious or challenging or mean, why can't I shut my mouth?

He looks at me. We are standing in a hallway next to the Dungeons, it leads to the Potion Classroom and is sufficiently lightened.

Three days after forming a plan to talk to Malfoy, I have finally managed to catch him alone near his Common Room. I still don't know where that is, but I reckon it's near by.

He seemed ... unsurprised to find me there and have to have me call on him to stop and talk.

"Is that your impression."

Argh. He doesn't actually help me. I say so to him.

"You could at least be less ignorant about ... this ... this matter!"

"And what would this matter be, Weasley?"

He is very cool and raises an eyebrow. But there is a little smile lingering at the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know it. That's why I came to talk with you. Are you up to something Evil with me? Do you plan to use me for various Dark matters?"

He chuckles. "Man, I even could hear the capital letters!"

"You. Are. Not. Being. Helpful."

And then I realise it: It's the almost reverse situation from when he demanded to know what I was doing that night outside the front doors all by myself. I never told him what he wanted to know.

Now it's my turn to smile.

That catches him off guard; both of his eyebrows shoot up now. "What?" he asks, looking at me.

"Nothing. It's just funny, is all."

He seems to struggle with himself. "What's funny?"

I smile broadly now. "You know, you are fun to talk to. Except you don't really talk and I have to do all the conversation, but I guess that's okay, what with you and your reputation. You might lose it if you are seen with a Weasley and all. Still, I guess it would be nice to find out if one could really have a decent conversation with you...." I babble.

"Weasley."

"Because I have the impression you are an interesting guy and quite well-looking, even if you come from the Darker circles of our world...." I go on as if he never interrupted me in the first place.

"Weasley."

That sounds impatient, but still I rant on: "But who knows? Maybe you aren't so evil yourself, but that would mean a chance to get to know you, to actually talk with you and since we were bumping into each other several times...."

"Weasley!"

I guess he is getting annoyed by now; he doesn't look angry, just exhausted.

"Hmm, you wanted to say something?"

"Shut up."

This is too easy.

"Make me."

Finally, he gets the hint as he takes a step forward, reaches with one arm to circle me at my waist and the other one to lie on my shoulder and closes my mouth with his.

***

The last time I looked into Draco's eyes, I found myself reflected as the most beautiful person in the world.

~ The End ~

18