Ginny melts into the walls, lurks unseen at the edges of conversations, the moving portraits sparing her from everyone's peripheral vision. She knows the secrets, holds them all close now that Tom has gone away. She's lost him, missing him five years now, her quiet boy with skin of paper. She creeps through the passages late at night, singing softly, hunting, always hunting him.
Near the stairs to the astronomy tower, she hears people, pauses, drifts back into the wall and the shadows and the motion. She watches as they slip through the hall, straightening robes, Draco muttering something about his hair. Her hand flutters up, tap tap tapping at the base of her throat. Harry laughs, comments too low for her to hear, runs his fingers through Draco's hair, pulls him in and kisses him, strong and possessive and
oh
A new heat rushes through her. Her breath hitches and she's gone again, hunting, hunting her Tom.
She must tell Tom.