Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling, although I don't think she thought much about this pairing…

A/N Okay, I did this cuz I had a hankerin' for a little Draco action. I love Ginny/Draco for reasons I can't explain, just something about them (and Draco and Ron and of course DRARRY!) so I decided to write this after a dream I had. And even though I can't technically make up my own characters, I had to pick one already made. XD This takes place in the 6th book, the Half Blood Prince, when Malfoy starts getting really freaked out, before Sectumsempra, though. Enjoy! (Oh, and P.S. I'm not and never have been British, so…)

Chapter 1

Don't look at him, Ginny. Don't look at him. I repeat it to myself over and over. With the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch match coming up in three and a half months and Christmas rapidly approaching, I don't need the flaxen-haired Slytherin to distract me.

Confession time; I am completely in love with Draco Malfoy.

I haven't admitted it to anyone, even going to such lengths as feign my infatuation with Harry (don't get me wrong, he's a great guy…just not Malfoy) and have everyone fooled. Except, perhaps Hermione. But she wouldn't dare tell anyone anyway.

Another confession; I'm not on bad terms with the Slytherin. After his father had almost killed me (damn you Lucius) I had been most surprised to find the second year tracking me down after the End of Year Feast.

"Weasley?" He'd snarled in his holier-than-thou tone. Still a first year, I was quite intimidated and continued hurrying up the Grand Staircase, ignoring him.

"I said, 'Weasley'," he demanded, stepping in front of me. I had bit my lip, down casting my eyes from his smoldering gray.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" I tried to put as much poison as I could into my eleven-year-old voice. I saw how much my brother, Ron, hated Malfoy and felt it my obligation to keep up the family feud. Not to mention his scum of a father had TRIED TO KILL ME. (Or at least Harry…but same difference.)

"I…" He seemed lost for words. Not something his cool demeanor could lead to. Smirking Malfoy always had some smart-ass comeback, especially reserved for 'blood traitors' like me.

"Spit it out," I spat.

"Sorry." He muttered, looking suddenly vulnerable beneath his tough exterior. He blushed faintly underneath his shallow parlor. He didn't look at all as ugly as his personality made him…in fact, he looked quite handsome. At that time, my love for Harry had been real, but this…my hero worship wavered.

"Sorry?" I asked, taken aback. Malfoy's cool demeanor returned.

"Yeah, you know like your idiot father?" I sucked in my cheeks, flaming as red as the Weasley's famous hair.

"Stick it," I told him, turning and stomping up the stairs. A few steps later, I'd felt a hand on my shoulder. Malfoy was standing a bit below me, smoothing back his already slick hair.

"I…I really am sorry. I'm not good at this." I wavered, not really believing what I was hearing. After an entire summer of hearing all the bloody horror stories from Ron about this Draco Malfoy person and dad's stories about his vile father was enough for me to have an immediate prejudice. "But…I'm ashamed of what my father did. I hope you don't hold me responsible." I blinked a few times in surprise. Where was the dickish Malfoy we'd all come to hate?

"S'okay," I said, smiled at him briefly, and made my way to the common room, glowing with a strange happiness.

And that's where it all began. Since that day, we've had few times to get to know each other, but many precious moments were spent in hiding around the Black lake, throwing food to the Giant Squid. We'd even managed to get into the kitchens a few times. Our awkward friendship blossomed into what I thought would surely be a life-long bond.

Behind closed doors, I wasn't Weasley, and he wasn't Malfoy. I was Ginny, and he was Draco. Loving, caring, funny, sweet Draco. I learned so much about him, and came to love the man behind the family. He had to keep up his façade for his father's sake, lest he be disinherited. He loves his father dearly, and his mother too, and he does all he can to get and keep the attention he receives, at all costs. He didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps and be a conniving, evil person. He wanted to become an Auror, to help against the Dark Arts instead of promote them. When Draco talks about his passions, I can't see the selfish, smirking boy around school, instead I find a man red-hot with life, glowing from the possibilities.

This, though, was alone. In the hallways, we had to display the icy demeanor used between all Slytherins and Gryffindors. He would smirk at me hatefully in hallways, loudly announce that the Blood Traitor was walking down the halls and to vacate immediately. I'd hex him every once in a while and his friends too. I'd bash him behind his back, I kill him at Quidditch. We did everything common enemies would. In our private time, we'd laugh about it.

In the passing years, though, it became woeful, vulnerable, wavering Draco, weeping, soulful, dying Draco. Especially after You-Know-Who returned, Draco began reverting to his cover of Malfoy more often. Our meetings grew less frequent, and they were less personable than ever before. My heart was breaking. I know he didn't return my feelings, but I was so deeply in love with him, with Draco, that I couldn't stand it.

Fourth year (fifth for him), our friendship became even more rocky when he started the hurtful 'Weasley Is Our King', which I still have animosity against, and grew worse when he joined the Inquisitorial Squad and helped bust the D.A. I'll never forgive him for it.

"Draco, you bloody bastard!" I'd shouted, storming into the Room of Requirement, our new sometimes-meeting place.

"I'm sorry," he'd whispered.

"How dare you? You ruined everything! Dumbledore's gone because of you, you great prat!" I was so angry, I'd pulled my wand and was waving it around manically.

"Ginny, please, listen." Draco had pleaded, raising his hands in silent surrender.

"No, you listen, you git! I can't believe I was ever your friend!"

That seemed to break Draco, for he sneered greatly, taking an ominous step near me.

"Oh, is it because you don't get your alone time with your Precious Potter?" He spat. I smacked him soundly across his face.

"Harry has nothing to do with this!" I screamed in his face. Malfoy had a hand-sized red mark on his face, his carefully slicked hair mussed on the side I'd slapped him.

"Fine. He has nothing to do with it." He was back to Draco, my friend, the one I'd trusted with almost everything.

"Damn right, he doesn't," I growled. I still had my wand shakily pointed at his chest. He had taken down Dumbledore's Army, after all.

"I see the way you look at him." Draco said in a small voice. It wasn't quite 'Malfoy' material, but it still had an edge.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You look at him like he's some kind of God." Draco blushed slightly.

"I love Harry, Draco. He's one of my best friends. I literally trust him with my life." I said. Draco licked his lips angrily, his hand unconsciously going to play with his green and silver tie, the symbol, coupled with my own gold and scarlet tie, signifying what could never be.

"Where does that leave me?" He looked up at me with startlingly stormy eyes, more silver than gray.

That had been the first time I fully realized how much I really loved him. It still hasn't resulted in anything, the feud between our houses keeping any feelings at bay. Or feelings in my case. I'm sure Draco feels only platonic love for me. He's told me more than once that I'm the sister he's always wished for.

Of course, I was able to get back at Malfoy for his D.A. stunt with the wicked Bat-Bogey Hex I hit him with in Umbridge's office. He hadn't been happy about that, but forgave me. And, though he'll never fully admit it, he held a gloomy air of someone with a loss after Sirius died.

And now here I am, sitting in the Great Hall and trying desperately to tear my eyes off of the haughty Malfoy, surrounded by his goons. This year, we'd met once. It was a painful meeting, burned into my brain for all eternity.

"Ginny, I can't do this any more." We'd met in the Room of Requirement at the very beginning of the year, the first weekend, sitting on the plush couches the room provided.

"What?" I asked, completely oblivious.

"I can't keep seeing you. I can't be your friend anymore." It felt like a knife split my body. My heart seized up, and hot needles pricked the back of my eyes.

"Wha…why?" I faced him, dying a little more when he refused to look in my eyes.

"I can't be associated with a filthy, Mudblood loving, Blood Traitor," Malfoy sneered, the fire accentuating his gaunt features.

"Draco…I…"

"How dare you call me by my first name?" He roared, knocking back his armchair and pointing his wand at me. My mouth fell open, trying to form words I didn't have.

"Please," I pleaded. He couldn't be doing this to me. He was my best friend, my secret love. He was the force that kept me going. He couldn't just…leave me.

"Quit your disgusting begging, Weasley." He sneered again before walking to the door. "Tell your vile family that they'll be the first ones the Dark Lord kills." And he left, slamming the door behind him. I hadn't gone back to Gryffindor tower that night.

"Ginny," Hermione whispers in my ear. I snap out of my reverie, smiling once at her before trying to catch up on what Dean was saying. I've gone through a few boyfriends now, trying to make up for the ragged hole Malfoy left behind.

I've heard Harry talking to my brother and Hermione about Malfoy being a Death Eater. I don't want to believe it, but seeing the troubled state he's in, always tired, eyes darting around like he's waiting for something to happen, and so worn down, pitiful, that it's hard for me to rule it out. His father's in Azkaban, and I know that if there was a way offered to him to get his father out, he'd take it, no matter what it was.

I've tuned out Dean again and turned my attention to Malfoy. The bit of my Draco is gone, nothing, not even a glimmer left. His easy smile, ruffled hair, loose tie. Gone.

For one second, Malfoy looks up from his pudding and catches my eye. I gasp silently. A moment passes, and I can almost see the hurt child lurking beneath his eyes, but it disappears with his trademark sneer.

"Shouldn't you be staring at your boyfriend instead of ogling me?" He yells to me. I blush deeply. His cronies, specifically Pansy Parkinson, his little whore of a girlfriend, and Blaise Zabini, laugh heartily. It disgusts me.

"What's he going on about?" Ron mutters.

"Nothing," I tell him back.

"Oi, Malfoy, why don't you shut your trap? If you're lucky you might be able to skip out on Azkaban that way!"

"Shut it, Ron," Hermione and I say together. Usually, there'd be not threat in Hermione's words; it's actually amazing that she's said that to him. After Dear Ronald hooked up with Lavender last night and Hermione attacked Ron, it's been like a war zone between him and Hermione. I hate it. (A/N, for my selfish purposes only, I've moved Slughorn's party down one day, specifically for this dinner to occur, so don't get confused all you Die-Hards)

Dinner's almost over, and I risk one more look at Malfoy. Every time, a spear drives deep in my heart, and my longing can only grow.

I still love you, Draco Malfoy.

A/N I know, it's kinda dramatic. I'm gonna make it funnier as it goes, hopefully, or I might actually be serious for once and have a little soap opera. Anyway, whad'ya think? Review and I'll write more! And I will definitely be making a series of Draco/X oneshots…After the new movie, I've definitely decided that Draco is sooo sexy…Mmmm…And maybe a few other crack pairings…and, sure a few cannon, but those aren't as fun!!! So…Yeah, review! I love the reviews!!!!

~Alyss