The Faded Jersey

The Faded Jersey

It no longer fit him. Naturally, considering he hadn't worn it since his third year. But that didn't stop Ginny from saving it like a treasure. She loved to hold it against her, breathe in its soapy smell, caress the sleeve on her cheek, and occasionally, put it on, as if she herself were going to wear it to the next match.

She took the faded, threadbare garment out of her bureau. Laying it across her bed, she sighed.

The rest of her packing, she decided, could wait.

After gazing at it a little longer, she picked it up and pulled it over head. Once she had wriggled her way into it, she tugged at the lower edge. It landed just above her hip bones. Of course, it was a bit tight across her chest and the sleeves were far too short, but she didn't care. It only made her feel sexier. She smirked at her reflection. Turning her back toward the mirror, she looked over her shoulder and admired the backwards letters with pride:

P O T T E R

"Ginny Potter," she whispered to her empty room.

"Ginny, dear," her mother called from downstairs, "time for dinner!"

"Coming, Mum."

She quickly took it off, stuffed it into her trunk, and changed back into the blouse she had worn all day. Once she straightened out the mess the jersey had made of her hair, she joined her parents downstairs in the kitchen.

"All packed, love?" Arthur asked her as he helped himself to some of Molly's splendid pot roast. "Mmm, smells delicious, dear," he said in an aside to his beloved, who smiled at the compliment.

"Almost. Just got a few more things to."

Ginny filled her plate and tucked in. There was little conversation, as the family were nervous about their baby going off to school all by herself the following morning.

"Oh! I nearly forgot afters. Ginny, would you please get the pie from the pantry?"

Her daughter sighed and placed a hand on her stomach. "Really, Mum, I'm full. I couldn't possibly eat another bite."

Arthur raised his hand as if he wanted to be called on in class. He said with a sheepish grin, "Well, I could, so if you don't mind, Gin?"

"And don't forget the cream, dear."

Ginny stood up from the table. "Okay, but don't say anything important while I'm gone," she added seriously.

"What kind of pie is it, Moll?" her dad asked. Her mum replied, but Ginny's mind was somewhere else. All her thoughts were on Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She couldn't believe she'd be going to Hogwarts tomorrow without them. She hoped and prayed that they were safe. No one knew where they were going or what they were doing, not even Ginny's mum and dad. But if Dumbledore said it was important, then they would see it through, even if it meant imprisonment, torture, or death.

Still, just because Harry and his best friends were going to be gone for a few weeks, or perhaps months, Ginny, Luna, and Neville had no intention of just sitting around and waiting for them. The three of them had corresponded all summer long, and they had plans of their own. After all, they had reasoned, the fact that there was no longer an Albus Dumbledore didn't have to mean that there should no longer be a Dumbledore's Army.

Holding the pie in one hand and the jar of cream in the other, she smiled secretively and went to rejoin her parents.

* * * * *

The train ride was uneventful. The welcoming feast, however, proved disastrous. Following a small sorting ceremony, there was the usual announcement of staffing changes. Professor Snape was named the new headmaster, even though he'd been responsible for the death of the previous one. As his first act, he welcomed two new professors, Amycus and Alecto Carrow. They were brother and sister, and there was a rumour on the train that they were both Death Eaters. Pansy Parkinson was named Head Girl and Draco Malfoy Head Boy.

Needless to say, things weren't exactly going swimmingly for Ginny or her friends. Things only got worse the next morning when classes resumed.

The Carrows had arbitrarily changed the purpose of the classes they taught. Amycus's class was changed to just "Dark Arts", and the message of Alecto's "Muggle Studies" was that Muggles were stupid and a threat to be dealt with swiftly and without mercy. The Carrows were also put in charge of discipline, which they seemed to enjoy doling out on a regular basis.

Not all students were disappointed with the new order at Hogwarts. Indeed, with three of their own practically running the place and unjustified punishments becoming quite commonplace, the Slytherins were completely in their element. Ginny glared at their table, hoping one of them would meet her eyes and feel the wrath behind them, or better yet, choke on their breakfast.

One afternoon in Muggle Studies, Ginny finally decided she'd had enough. It was time to take on the new order. After Alecto had insulted Colin Creevey for being a Muggleborn for the fourth time that week, Ginny jumped out of her seat. She took out her wand and aimed an especially nasty Bat Bogey Hex straight at the professor, screaming, "Take that, you old cow!"

Justice was handed down without delay.

Once the bats had been subdued, Ginny was summarily sentenced to a two-week detention. The sixth-year balked at the severity of her punishment, saying, "The Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts are this weekend! I'm the team captain, and I need time to prepare!"

But the nasty professor sneered at her and hissed, "Speak to me that way again, girly, and I'll disband your house's pathetic Quidditch team for the rest of the year."

As the students shuffled out at the end of class, Alecto detained Ginny. "As Head Boy," she told her, "Draco Malfoy will be in charge of your detention. He will decide your punishment - so I'd be extra nice to him for the rest of the day, if I were you." Ginny walked out of the classroom, regretting that she had let the old hag get to her.

Her friends were waiting for her in the hallway. They all started to head toward their next classes. At first, no one spoke. A two-week detention could ruin anyone's day. When Colin placed a slight hand on her shoulder, smiled at her gratefully, and said, "Thanks, Gin," she realised it had all been worth it.

"No problem, Colin."

Luna chimed in, saying, "You're so brave, Ginny."

Michael Corner even said, "Yeah, you did the right thing. I'm sorry it landed you in detention with Malfoy."

She wished he hadn't brought that part up. The very thought of it made her queasy.

Still, she played it off, saying breezily, "It's just two weeks. It'll be over soon. The worst part is I'll have to miss our next meeting."

Later that evening, Malfoy approached her as she and her friends were about to enter the Great Hall for dinner. "You're coming with me, Weasley," he snarled.

"We were just going in for dinner," she protested, backing away from him.

"Should have thought of that before you hexed a professor, you stupid bint. Come on."

The Head Boy grabbed her by the arm and started to haul her away like she was a common criminal. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he was stronger than he looked. Her friends reached for their wands, but Crabbe and Goyle were already holding theirs in duelling position. "Don't even try it, Muggle lovers," one of them growled.

Ginny shouted out, "Neville! Bring something back for me, okay?" Sometimes she missed having her brothers around. She would rather have put up with Percy as Head Boy than the prat who was manhandling her now, dragging her off to who-knows-where.

She swung her arms at him and tried to slap him, but she was no match for him. "Stop that," he grumbled, "or I'll put you in a full body bind and carry you there." Knowing he'd be only too happy to do it, she stopped resisting.

They passed by the front doors of the castle. Still, they walked on in silence. When she realised they were approaching the staircase to the dungeons, Ginny became even more apprehensive.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"My quarters."

Her heart sunk.

"But-but you can't do that!" she protested. "It's against school rules!"

He stopped walking. Putting an icy cold finger under her chin, he turned her face so he could glare at her head on. He snorted and said softly, "I'm Head Boy, and the Dark Lord as good as runs this school. I think you'll find I can do whatever I want. By the way, give me your wand."

"M-my wand?" she stammered.

"This is detention, Weasley, not a walk in the park. Wands aren't allowed. I would have thought your oaf of a brother would have told you that. He's been in plenty of detentions, just like your stupid boyfriend. Neither have any regard for the rules."

Ginny blushed and reluctantly handed over her wand. Almost as soon as he had put it in his robes, an obnoxious, shrill sound rang out from behind them, piercing the silence. Suddenly, a dungbomb whizzed past her right ear, causing her to duck and move closer to Draco. Another came flying and hit her on the bum, and a third landed square on her shoulder blades.

"Stop it, Malfoy! This isn't funny!" she cried.

"It isn't me, you nit!" Draco shouted, who was backing away from her. He looked up and spied the culprit floating overhead. "Peeves, fuck off!"

"Yes, yes, whatever the Head Boy says!" he shrieked. He flew overhead, holding his nose and singing:

Potty's girlfriend,

Really stinks

That's what old

Peevies thinks!

Wash her, scrub her

Set her right

Even if it

Takes all night!

"Shut it, you eternal pest!" Ginny screamed after the ghost, who was still laughing as he fled the scene. "Oh, I hate him!"

Draco sniffed the air once. "Ugh, Weasley! God, you smell . . . get those robes off, this instant!" he ordered, waving his hand in front of his pointed nose.

He was right. The stench was absolutely repulsive, but she hesitated. "Can't you just magic them clean?" she whined.

For the first time since she'd met the arrogant wanker, he seemed doubtful of his own abilities. "I don't know. They smell like those super strong dungbombs your brothers sell at their shop. Serves you right!"

"Well, I can't very well go around smelling like shit all night!"

"True." He frowned at her. "Give me your robes. I'll get a house-elf and have them cleaned."

"But they're my only ones! I need them for class tomorrow."

"Figures," he said, obviously disgusted. When she didn't take them off straight away, he snapped, "Well, off with them!"

She slowly removed her robes. Meanwhile, Draco looked around for a house-elf. "Dobby!" he shouted down the empty corridor. "Dobby, get down here, now!"

The little servant appeared within seconds. "Yes, Master Malfoy! What can Dobby do for the Head Boy of Hogwarts?" Noticing Ginny, he greeted her enthusiastically, as he always did. "Good evening, Miss Weazey! Dobby is so pleased to be seeing Mr. Harry Potter's girlfriend, for she--"

"That'll do, Dobby," Draco interrupted. Shoving the offensive garment into the servant's bony fingers, he ordered, "Take these to be cleaned. Miss Weasley had a run-in with a dungbomb, and she smells absolutely atrocious." She crossed her arms angrily and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, it wasn't exactly my fault, Malfoy! And I don't smell atrocious!"

"Yes, Master Malfoy. Right away, sir. Dobby will see to Ron Weazey's sister's robes directly, sir. Have a pleasant evening, Miss Weazey!" And he was off.

It was only then that Draco took notice of what Ginny was wearing underneath her robes. His mouth fell open at the sight of her in an old crimson jersey that rode too far above her waist and was far too tight in all the right places. The sight of her in something so innocent yet so provocative left him speechless. She could have sworn he even blushed.

The blood left his cheeks and rushed to the front of his trousers. He cleared his throat and pretended he was in no way affected by her appearance. He said slowly, "What - the - fuck are you wearing, Weasley?" He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. As he did, she gasped indignantly.

"Potter?" he read. "That bastard who tried to kill me last year?"

"He didn't mean to, and you know--"

"The lazy bugger actually gave you his old, fraying, faded Quidditch jersey? Why? Is that his idea of a gift?"

"No! He didn't give it to me. I just sort of . . . took it."

His mouth fell open, and for a long moment, he didn't say a word. She looked the other way, gritted her teeth, and waited for the assault. After what seemed like an eternity, he leaned his head back and roared with laughter. "You stole Potter's old clothes? God's sakes, girl, why? Can't your parents afford any new shirts for you?"

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "No, it's - it's special. Sort of a keepsake. It reminds me of our--"

But she couldn't think what to call what she and Harry had. They weren't technically dating just now, and that blow job she'd given him in her room over the summer didn't exactly qualify as a 'relationship'. How could she call him her boyfriend anymore? She didn't even know where he was. Was he seeing other girls? Had Hermione finally given up on Ron and decided to pin her hopes on Harry? Not that she'd ever said anything . . . but Hermione had once told her that Muggles say we start to covet what we see every day. Frankly, it was a little disconcerting.

"Of your what? Draco shot derisively. "Of your fantasy world that you'll marry that fucking arse someday? That you'll be Mrs. Harry Potter? Ha! Don't you get it? He'll never live that long!"

Embarrassed and completely frustrated, she pursed her lips. "Now, look here, Malfoy. Just because I have a detention with you, which I still don't know what it is, doesn't mean I have to take your crap. If you have nothing for me to do, I'll go back to the Great Hall for dinner and forget this whole thing!"

He glared at her. "Like hell, you will. I do have work for you, and it's in my quarters."

"What sort of work?" she demanded to know. But he ignored her and walked on. She stood still and scoffed. "Surely, you don't think I trust you enough to be alone with you in your room?"

He rolled his eyes. "What, you think I'm going to try and seduce you? Believe me, it's nothing like that. I'm working on a project. But tonight, you're going to work on it."

"What sort of project?" she asked as she backed away from him carefully. "You're not raising a dragon, are you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hardly. It's a family project."

"Oh, that's hilarious," Ginny said, truly amused. When he didn't respond, she added, "Are you serious? You actually want me to do something for your family?"

He inched closer to her. "Quite serious, Weasley. If you get enough of it done, I might even let you leave by midnight."

Her back to the wall, she raised her hands to push him away. Draco stared at her intently and grabbed onto her wrists. He could feel their warmth, as the jersey stopped an inch or two short of where it should have. "Or would you rather be out in the rain, cleaning up unicorn dung for the next two weeks?"

He was standing so close she could smell his cologne, which smelled rather nice. She just looked away.

"Let's go." He pointed, apparently in the direction of his private quarters. She swallowed nervously.

When they got there, she noticed that the room was spacious, warm, and well-lit. At the centre of it was a large writing desk, which was bigger and more ostentatious than what most professors had in their offices.

"Sit there," he commanded. She did so, figuring the sooner she got started on whatever this bloody project was, the sooner she could get back to the essay she was working on before she'd gone down for dinner.

Ginny looked around and started to ask, "What do I--"

She was interrupted by a loud thud as a monstrous stack of newspapers, photos, and articles was laid out in front of her. "Here. My mother, in her curious way, has it in her mind that I am to make a present for my aunt's birthday. She said it would be much more special than just buying her something. I have three weeks to complete it, and you're going to help for the next two.

"You're not to tell anyone what your detention was or where. If anyone asks, you groomed the unicorns and shoveled dung in the stables. Due to Hagrid's extended absence, it's getting pretty bad over there."

She looked down at the materials in front of her. Thinking this at least be would be more comfortable than standing out in the dark, up to her ankles by crap, she picked up the top copy of The Daily Prophet.

DEATH EATERS ESCAPE AZKABAN, the headline read.

Next, Draco brought her a book. It looked rather like Harry's old photo album, only bigger. She opened it and saw that the pages were empty.

"I still don't understand what I'm to do," she confessed weakly.

Thumbing through the mountain of papers in front of her, he explained, "These are all special moments from my aunt's life. My mother wants me to sift through them, pick out the best memories, cut them out, organise them, and neatly attach them to these pages. Then, we decorate the cover, and I present it to her as a gift."

"A-a memory book?"

"Some people call them that, or scrapbooks."

"Oh." Ginny was surprised. She had never considered that the Blacks might be a sentimental family. She had only ever seen them as vicious killers.

"Well? Get to work!" he barked. "I have an essay to finish for Muggle Studies, so I'll be writing over there. Don't attach anything to the pages. I want to do it magically so that if Mother checks, it has my magical signature."

"Oh. O-okay." She was still rather stunned he was doing this.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Weasley. I don't want to make this damn book. But, cooperating with Mother and giving Aunt Bella such a lovely gift will ensure their favour at Christmas."

Ginny nodded then started to look through the articles.

Should have known he'd have some ulterior motive, she thought with a smirk.

The evening went by quickly. If she ignored the more gruesome details of Bellatrix's so-called accomplishments, the work could even be considered enjoyable. It was far better than most detentions she'd had, even if this one was with Malfoy - probably because the two of them barely spoke.

At around 11:00, Draco looked up and noticed that she had amassed a fair number of clippings. He briefly surveyed what she had collected then released her for the night. "Keep an eye out for Filch and the late-watch prefects," he advised.

"You're not - that is, you're not going with me?" She sounded aghast.

"Are you kidding? It's nearly midnight, I need my rest!

"Here's your wand. See you tomorrow night, same time. And I suggest you have dinner early," he added with a sneer. As she walked away, he smirked then pointed his wand at her back and whispered a few words. "Perfect," he whispered to himself, admiring at his handiwork.

The mere mention of dinner reminded Ginny just how hungry she was. She walked away quickly, taking the most direct route back to Gryffindor Tower while keeping an eye out for Mrs. Norris, Peeves, and prefects, especially Slytherins.

As she rounded one corner, she heard it too late: the scornful laugh of Pansy Parkinson. She gasped and looked around for a nook to hide in, like the one she'd kissed Dean in all the time last year. However, Pansy and her two accomplices, whom Ginny recognised as Slytherin prefects, had already spotted her.

"Weasley!" the Head Girl called. "What are you doing out after hours?"

"Er, I had a detention that just ended."

Pansy looked at her with disdain. "So I gathered. But where are your robes?"

"I suppose they're in my room."

"Why aren't you wearing them?" she demanded to know.

Ginny blushed and stammered, "I-it was Peeves' fault. He hit me in the back with a dungbomb. A house-elf took them to be cleaned."

The seventh-year was unimpressed. She stared at her. "Be that as it may, this is not appropriate school attire. Twenty points from Gryffindor! Now get back to your house!"

Ginny took off at once. As she did, she heard them howl with laughter. Assuming they must have smelled the odor from her unfortunate run-in with the poltergeist, she never looked back.

"Really? How was it, Weasley?" Astoria asked her gleefully.

Pansy cackled and shouted, "Was he everything they say he is?" The other prefect said nothing, but only because he couldn't stop laughing. Ginny moved on, having no idea what they were talking about. Then she remembered that her jersey said 'Potter'.

Naturally, they're poking fun at him - they hate him anyway! she reasoned.

She ducked into the next loo she could find, determined to see if the letters had any stains on them. What she saw made her blood boil. The name was gone and in its place were five words: I fucked the Head Boy.

"That bastard!" she screamed.

* * * * *

Draco nearly lost his nose at breakfast the next day, thanks to a well-aimed curse from a red-haired spitfire at the Gryffindor table. Instead, the candles hanging on the wall over his shoulder split in two and fell to the ground, the fire still burning on their wicks. Thinking quickly for once in his life, Crabbe jumped up, grabbed Goyle's glass of pumpkin juice, and doused the flames with it. Gregory bellowed at him until someone shut him up by just handing him a new glass.

Ginny and the Head Boy were called into Professor Snape's office. She was only too glad to go. Carrying Harry's old jersey inside her rucksack, she was ready to lay it out on the desk and give Malfoy the arse-chewing of his life. He might even face expulsion. The Carrows came along as well, since this was a disciplinary matter.

As head of Gryffindor house, Professor McGonagall also came, if only to defend her from the serpents who were now running the school. However, not knowing what had set her off, she was at a disadvantage to help her. When she tried to figure out why her student had threatened Mr. Malfoy, all the girl would say is, "You'll see."

Once they were in the headmaster's office, Professor Snape glared at her with contempt. It was hard to believe that this man, this monster, had actually been a member of the Order of the Phoenix . . . that he had spent time with her family and friends at Sirius's childhood home, had eaten her mother's cooking - had been trusted by Albus Dumbledore. When he spoke, his voice was filled with hatred.

"What is the meaning of attacking another student? Our Head Boy, no less? Not that we haven't seen behaviour like this from people in your house, Miss Weasley."

Professor McGonagall scowled but didn't say anything. But Ginny didn't hold back. "I had a very good reason, Professor!" She withdrew the jersey and laid it out. "Look at this!"

Snape squinted his black eyes and looked down. "Potter?" he read aloud.

Ginny did a double-take. "What? That - that can't be! Last night, it said . . . something obscene!" Pointing at Draco, she accused, "He changed it, and then . . . he must have changed it back!"

Draco turned away. She knew he was laughing silently behind his hand. She could see his shoulders shaking. "You arsehole!" Ginny screamed as she reached out to strangle him.

The Gryffindor head of house held her back and gasped, "Language, Miss Weasley! Please control yourself!"

Professor McGonagall scrutinised the jersey. "I can't see that Mr. Malfoy has tampered with it." She observed the rather small, faded garment then glanced up at the girl's chest, doing a double-take. "You were wearing this?"

"I expand it magically before I put it on," she insisted.

For a moment, Draco's mind returned to last night. Yes, you expand it quite nicely.

Ginny groaned resignedly. "But that's not the point, professor! Last night, it didn't say Harry's name. Well, it did when I first went to my detention with him, but when I was finished, it said something entirely different. Something derogatory. And he did it!"

"It appears to be fine now, Minerva," said Alecto. "But really, such behaviour! Do you think we should add more time to her detention, Severus?" She didn't even bother to hide the malice in her voice. Ginny gulped.

The Headmaster eyed her unsympathetically. "Yes, Alecto, it was uncalled for. She should definitely be punished more."

Ginny was shocked. Could this get any worse? she wondered.

It did.

"Miss Weasley will be banned from playing in the first Quidditch game of the season."

Ginny could see the victory in the Alecto Carrow's eyes. Amycus didn't even bother to conceal his smile.

Professor Snape then released the two students to go to their first classes of the day. Once they were outside the office, Ginny glowered at Draco. He smiled at her and winked. "See you this evening, Weasley."

Unfortunately, Ginny suffered a bit more humiliation as the day went along. The rumour that she had had sex with the Head Boy had definitely made the rounds. No matter how ludicrous it sounded, people in the know swore it was true. She was exceedingly glad that Ron wasn't around to hear any of it.

By lunchtime, practically everyone who knew what the 'F' word meant was pointing at her and whispering behind cupped hands. She ignored it as best she could, and she did pretty well. That is, right up until the moment Romilda Vane came up to her and asked her how he was.

Thinking she'd gotten the better of Harry Potter's girlfriend, the self-satisfied fourth-year walked toward the front to go outside for Care of Magical Creatures. As she stepped through the large door, her brand-new rucksack suddenly split open, spilling her belongings everywhere. Romilda turned around to accuse Ginny, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Yes, it was childish and petty. Still, it didn't stop Ginny from feeling rather good about it.

* * * * *

The book of memories for Bellatrix started to take shape. Day after day, Ginny learned a little more about Draco's peculiar aunt. On more than one occasion, she found herself repulsed, but not altogether shocked, by the cruelty of the woman's actions.

What surprised her most was that the Black family found these acts so admirable. Explosions, murders, arson - all of them attributed to the mysterious female Death Eater. It was as if she were the favourite for having committed them. Ginny could only read them and shake her head. She could scarcely imagine how someone's heart could ever be warmed while reflecting on such a wretched, sadistic life. As she read the latest article about yet another unfortunate Muggle family, she gasped involuntarily.

"What now?" Draco asked, annoyed by the interruption.

"I just - I can't understand how one person could do so much . . . pure evil."

He smiled wryly. "Well, just because they're all attributed to her doesn't mean she necessarily did them. Some of these happened while she was in Azkaban or awaiting trial. Obviously, she wasn't involved in those, but she loves it when the papers mention her anyway. It makes her feel more powerful to have such a nasty reputation." He looked at Ginny and smirked. "Why do you think so many people are so afraid of her?"

She nodded, saying, "There's no such thing as bad press, right?"

"Well, I never heard it put that way, but yeah." They smiled at each other.

This brief exchange helped the two find a connection. Afterward, they started to treat each other with a modest level of civility.

If Harry had only known that the girlfriend he intended to come back to was in Draco Malfoy's private quarters, he may well have halted his pursuit of the Horcruxes long before they had found them all. He might have even used the Sectumsempra curse again on his enemy . . . only this time, he would have meant it. Draco knew this, and since Potter wasn't around, he felt safe. But what he didn't know was that he was already treading near very dangerous territory: Ginny Weasley's heart.

He was about to find out.

* * * * *

With classes every day and detention every evening, Ginny had barely thought about her house's Quidditch team. They had two positions to fill, since Harry and Ron were still gone. She was named acting team captain, and the night before the Gryffindor tryouts, she started to feel concerned. Would things be different without Harry there? How would she measure up until he returned?

Shoving her doubts aside, she settled in for a good night's rest. She assured herself the tryouts would go as they always had, with several very qualified hopefuls vying for just a few positions.

When she arrived at the pitch the following morning, her heart sunk. Only three candidates had shown up. Two were younger students who had dreamed of playing with Harry. Neither one hid their disappointment when they were told he wouldn't be there. The third was the arrogant Cormac McLaggen. While Ginny knew he was a much better Keeper than Ron, it just went against her grain to have to put him on the team.

Where was everybody?

The truth was, they were afraid they would actually make the team. Frankly, not many of them felt very confident about flying so high above the ground with the Carrows and Professor Snape sitting in the crowd below. If one of them slipped off their broom and was about to suffer serious injury, would anyone in the stands even try and break their fall?

With almost no-one to assess, official tryouts were suspended. Of the two younger students, one was a first year who could barely manage his broom, and the other was a third year girl. She flew well and looked small and nimble enough to be a decent Chaser some day.

Once they had been assigned to their positions, Ginny looked at her new teammates. She smiled, but she felt like crying. Her band of ragtag players didn't exactly look like they were in contention for the House Cup.

They held a team practice on Sunday, yet Ginny was still concerned about their prospects. Having such an inexperienced team was aggravating, since Quidditch was the one place where Gryffindor typically outshone its rivals. Regardless, she went to her evening detention, determined not to let this get her down. But she found it difficult to hide her disappointment and frustration. She only hoped Malfoy wouldn't notice.

"What's your problem, Weasley?" he said with a sneer.

Of course, he would notice.

"Nothing," she lied, looking down at the papers in front of her.

"That's not what I heard."

She glanced up suddenly and saw that he was smiling. It was a genuinely happy smile, as if he'd just heard a right good joke. He stood up, moved towards where she was sitting, and walked slowly around her table.

"I heard about your dilemma: that barely enough for a Quidditch team showed up for the Gryffindor tryouts. Word is, anyone who was brave enough, or stupid enough, to show up was given a position, a jersey, and told, 'Best of luck'!"

When he laughed in her face, Ginny ground her teeth. Her fingers itched to grab him by the throat and throttle him, but knowing he had not only his wand but hers too, she restrained herself. She feigned a confident smile.

"We'll just have to work hard. I think we'll be all right."

Draco started to chuckle again. He nodded and said, "You know, you might at that. At least you'll have your first decent keeper since Wood left. McLaggen is ten times the keeper your brother is.

"Which reminds me, where is that pillock? Has he run off with that Mudblood ice bitch, the one he's been after for years? Do you suppose he's actually getting some?" He shuddered. "Scary thought, that."

When she didn't said anything, he needled her a little bit more. "What about the Boy Who Lived? Do you think he's with them? I'll bet they're all screwing each others' brains out right now. All three of them."

Ginny's face went white. Seeing he'd hit a nerve, he went on. He circled her like a panther and went in for the kill.

"Oh, come on. You've seen how your brother looks at Potter - like he could eat him for dessert. What do you suppose they're doing, anyway? Three horny teenagers, running around the countryside? I mean, other than having it on in as many combinations and kinky positions as possible, what else would they be doing while waiting for the inevitable victory of the Dark Lord--"

She stood up and slapped him as hard as she could.

Draco latched onto her slender wrists and narrowed his eyes. "That's going to cost you, Weasley." Acting purely on impulse, she stood up on her toes and kissed him on the lips.

It took him a moment to register what was happening. He soon relaxed into the moment and slipped his fingers into her silky hair and his tongue into her mouth. When he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer, she started to panic. What am I doing? she thought and quickly broke the kiss. The room was spinning around her. She backed away, blushing like mad.

She didn't know what had possessed her: passion, curiosity . . . or was she just using her wits in an attempt to avoid extending her punishment again? After all, even if he was a prat, he was still Head Boy.

Hoping to downplay the whole thing, she returned to what he'd said just before she lost all reason and decided to plant her lips on his. "Yes, they must be going at it like mad," she agreed with a nervous laugh. "What else would they be doing?"

But Draco wasn't thinking of the trio anymore or of his idle threat to punish her further. He took her face tenderly in his hands. Looking in her eyes, he asked, "Why did you do that, Ginny?" She turned away.

"I-I don't know. I just wanted to see what it felt like."

"To kiss a boy?" he asked stupidly.

"No, silly. To kiss you."

Draco snapped out of his daze and said huskily, "I can't believe I'm even saying this - but you'd probably better go now."

"Yeah," she said feebly. She looked at him seriously, trying to read his face. "This never happened, right?"

His eyes met hers. More than anything, he longed to kiss her again. His pupils were overly large, his lips swollen. "Leave," he urged. "Now."

She held out her hand. Thinking she was about to plead with him to stay a while longer, his heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, all he could think of was how good she would feel lying naked in his arms.

Her hand was still extended, but she hadn't touched him. "My wand?"

Instantly regretting that he'd dared to hope, he handed it to her. She left quickly, never looking back. He watched her scurry down the hallway, and once she was out of sight, he slowly closed the door. Leaning back against it, he shut his eyes and released a sigh. He quickly doused the lights and set about taking care of the ache she'd been the cause of.

* * * * *

Three days had passed since their strange yet passionate encounter. Draco had not mentioned it, nor had he attempted to repeat it during her detentions, and Ginny hadn't heard any rumours about it either.

Good, she thought. My moment of weakness has been forgotten.

Oddly, that wasn't quite how she felt. She couldn't rightly describe how she felt. She felt guilty for having betrayed Harry's trust. But did that really matter? Did she even love him anymore? Had she ever?

The only thing she knew with certainty was that she wanted the memory book project to be over and done with.

That evening, she met Draco and went to work on the book, determined to finish tonight. Digging through the clippings and photos had become a mindless task. As long as she didn't become too engrossed in the articles themselves, she could pretend this was just another homework assignment. She knew what headlines and lead-ins to look for: Mrs. Lestrange a prime suspect, Infamous Female Death Eater still at large, and so on. It was all rather tedious.

As she lifted up what seemed like the hundredth headline that read, Bellatrix Lestrange wanted for questioning, Ginny saw something that took her breath away. But this time, the gasp wasn't followed by a look of disgust; it appeared to be one of admiration. Surprised, Draco looked up.

"Oh, how beautiful," Ginny remarked almost to herself.

He walked around to stand behind her. Looking over her shoulder, he saw she was looking at his aunt's wedding photo. He smiled warmly.

"Yes, she made a lovely bride," he agreed. "Can't say Uncle Rodolphus was a very handsome groom, though." Ginny laughed. He went on to say, "But she didn't marry him for his looks."

"Not for money, surely?" When he didn't reply, she asked in a teasing tone, "Surely, she wasn't in love?" She continued to admire Bella's photo. The young Mrs. Lestrange certainly was a ravishing beauty.

"No," Draco said with finality.

"What, then?"

He hesitated briefly, wondering if it was wise to let her in on this much of his family's history. At length he answered. "She was in love with his power and his status. The Lestranges influence was far above that of the Blacks, what with her cousin Sirius befriending the wrong sort of people--"

"James Potter?" she said pointedly.

Draco nodded and pursed his lips. "Among others. Remus Lupin, Lily Evans . . . and then her own sister getting involved with Muggleborns . . . " He laughed mirthlessly. "You could say the Blacks had some serious ground to make up."

Ginny tried to see from his family's point of view how damaging this all would have been. Strangely, she almost felt sorry for the young man. He wasn't to blame for his aunt's behaviour, or his family's, or that he had been taught to think like they did.

Could there actually be a heart inside Draco Malfoy?

It didn't seem like he'd been repulsed by her kissing him. In fact, it felt like he rather enjoyed it, and though he had told her to leave, she sensed he was torn. Part of him had been begging her to stay, and part of her had wanted to. Her feelings conflicted with all that she knew about him.

But what did she know about him, really? Did she even know herself?

Could he love her, and she him? She'd thought she loved Harry, but now that Harry was gone away from her, unable to touch her, to kiss her . . . all of a sudden, she wasn't so sure.

Still, if she acted on these feelings, what then? What if it turned out to be nothing more than physical - would that be enough?

She looked up at Draco, their faces only inches apart. She could see the lust burning in his eyes. He bent down slowly and kissed her. It was soft and languid, yet strong and passionate.

Yes, she decided as she melted into the kiss. For now, it would be more than enough.

* * * * *

Bellatrix's memory book was deemed complete the next day. By evening, Draco had attached everything in the book and sent Ginny a note to meet him in the usual place. He wanted to show her the end product. With the project done, he would also need to make some alternate arrangements for the remaining days of her detention. It was not something he was especially looking forward to.

Taking his aunt's present under his arm, he told Ginny, "Just stay here. Do some homework, read, whatever - I'll be back in 15 minutes."

One hour later, Draco returned to his room. He had a package in one hand and was grinning from ear to ear. She'd never seen him so happy.

He said, "Well, congratulate me!"

Ginny jumped up, tossed her half-finished essay aside, and hugged him. "She liked it?" she asked excitedly.

"Liked it? Are you kidding? Auntie Bella loved it! She promised me a very special surprise at Christmas," he boasted.

Somehow, these words didn't exactly reassure her. "What sort of special surprise?"

"I don't know, she didn't say. But the lady does give great gifts."

Ginny hedged a bit. She longed to speak but didn't.

"What? I thought you'd be happy. It was all your doing." After a brief pause, he popped the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Of course! You worked on this for hours, even if it was technically a detention, and you're not getting anything."

She looked down at her ink-stained hands. "No, that's not it."

"Then what?"

"I'm worried that your 'special surprise' might be the Dark Mark." Looking up at him, she asked bluntly, "Is that really what you want, Draco?"

He'd always thought it was. After all, both of his parents wore theirs proudly - and shouldn't he, as a dutiful son, want to follow in their footsteps?

"I don't know that I have a choice, Ginny. I've been thinking, we're not that different, you and I. Our choices aren't ours to make."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he continued as he paced the floor. "I'm a Malfoy, so I'm a Slytherin. You're a Weasley; you're expected to be in Gryffindor and to admire people like Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore." She flinched a little as he said the man's name.

"I saw that. I didn't want to kill him. It was kill him or watch my family die. Would you have made any other choice?"

She gazed at him. He was an enigma beyond all others: cold, yet loving; vindictive, yet compassionate. He puzzled her greatly.

"Now, there is the matter of your unfinished detention," Draco reminded her. "As Head Boy, that is in my hands. For that, I want you to do one last thing for me."

Here it comes, Ginny thought, preparing herself for the worst. "What?" she asked.

"Actually, I want two things. I want you to continue meeting with me in my quarters, no strings attached, for the duration of your detention. I like you, and I think you like me . . . and I just want you to be here with me. You're free to bring your homework assignments and work on them, ask me for help, and kiss me if you like. Just promise you won't curse or hex me," he added with a grin.

She smiled and nodded. "And the other thing?"

He held out the package that he had just brought in.

"Accept this gift from me. But don't open it now. Wait until you get back to your room, and make sure your roommates are asleep. Or at least have your curtains drawn."

This made her rather nervous. She looked at the gift sceptically.

"Is it from your darling aunt?"

Sounding offended, he answered, "No! I swear, it's not a prank. I have some Veritaserum - I'll take it, if you like. Believe me, from the bottom of my heart, Ginny Weasley, I want you to have this."

She thought for a moment. Hoping she wasn't making a hasty decision, she said, "I must be mad - but I-I think I'll forego the Veritaserum."

Relieved, he exhaled. He couldn't remember if his Veritaserum bottle was empty or if he still had one dose left.

"All right, then. You'd probably better stay until at least 9:30, or someone will suspect your 'detention' might be over."

"Well, I'd like to finish writing this, if you don't mind. Your supply of quills and books is remarkable."

He shrugged. "You know you're welcome to anything you like here. Or anyone," he added only half-joking.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." She returned to her work.

A bit disappointed she hadn't accepted the latter, Draco turned his attention to his own homework. She was easily the most congenial person he'd ever spent any time with. He wondered if he could be falling in love with her. Still, knowing it to be an impossible relationship, he took it for what it was: a friendship with an attractive, caring person and some splendid fringe benefits. He smiled then refocused on his essay.

The evening wore on. The two worked in silence till nearly 10:00.

"Oh, it's so late. I really must go," Ginny said at last. She quickly packed away her homework and the package Draco had given her. "See you tomorrow."

And without so much as a kiss, she was gone.

* * * * *

At midnight, Ginny decided she couldn't wait any longer for her roommates to stop talking and just go to sleep. She cast a Silencing Charm and closed her bed curtains so that no one could come in. Taking one last precaution, she added a condition that if whatever was inside proved to be dangerous, the curtains would automatically separate and start to scream of their own accord.

The package, it turned out, wasn't sealed. It wasn't even taped; the top flap was simply folded over the other side. Whatever was in it felt cushy, as if it had no solid form. Still, just to be safe, she didn't want to put her hands inside. When she finally felt courageous enough, she closed her eyes, swooped the package upside down and, let whatever was inside fall out onto her bed.

A smallish jersey, obviously worn but certainly not worn out, now lay on her bed. It was cream with dark green letters and numbers, bordered with light grey thread, stitched on both sides. Next to the jersey was a slender scroll of parchment, with a narrow strand of dark green ribbon securing it. Ginny's initials were on the outside of the parchment.

She removed the ribbon in one pull and cautiously opened the parchment. When it didn't explode or even burst into flames, she picked it up and brought it closer to her face.

Ginny, it read.

I saw the fondness you bestowed on that old jersey. No offence, but it so clashes with your hair. This one is from my fourth year, and with the tournament being held here that year, I barely even wore it. It would do much more to bring out your beauty, and it would please me greatly if you would wear it now and then.

So I'll you know you have it on under your robes, please put this green ribbon in your hair on the days you wear the jersey. It would make me so happy. Then if you want to meet with me that evening, all you need do is put your hair up with the ribbon wrapped around it.

I like being with you, Ginny. I don't want our friendship to end just because our families see things differently. I hope you feel the same.

Your friend always,

Draco Malfoy

When she reached the signature line, the note disintegrated in her hands.

* * * * *

At breakfast the following morning, Draco looked across the room a bit more than usual. Pansy and Blaise were both getting annoyed by his apparent disinterest in anything they were saying.

"What is wrong with you, Malfoy?" he asked.

"Nothing," Draco groused. "Leave me alone."

At last, he saw Ginny. His eyes lit up. She wasn't wearing the green ribbon, but she still looked radiant.

Dejected, he swallowed. Should have known she didn't want anything more to do with me, he thought as he cut a bite off his kipper.

She was enjoying her breakfast and laughing with her friends. How could she be so happy? Was she relieved that her detentions were nearly over, or had she heard from Potter? Why wouldn't she look at him?

He vaguely heard Pansy saying something about unicorns and how their stalls were a terrible mess. She asked Draco, "Weren't you supposed to give that to someone who had a detention?" When he didn't answer, she scoffed and walked away, Blaise's arm around her shoulder.

The Great Hall was emptying. His breakfast cold, Draco shoved his plate away and looked around. Most of his housemates had evidently left for their first class. He glanced toward her table again. She still hadn't looked his way. Not once. Frustrated, he got up and walked slowly toward the exit. Just then, Ginny and two of her friends, Longbottom and Creevey, also stood up to go. She stopped as they reached the end of the last table.

"Hang on a minute," she told the others. She set down her rucksack and reached inside. "Oh, crikey, where is it?"

"Do you need to borrow a quill, Ginny?" her classmate offered eagerly.

"No, it's - oh, never mind, you two go on without me. I'll catch you up, Colin!" The boys left and practically took off running so they wouldn't be late.

Once they were both out of sight, Ginny quickly pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. She tied the dark green ribbon around the base of it then turned toward Draco and gazed at him unabashedly.

He smiled back softly, knowing he would make it through the day.

The End