Once again, Ginny found herself alone in dimly lit hall of the seventh floor. It was almost becoming a routine, though she would never admit it to herself.

Draco Malfoy would not become a routine.

"I suppose," he whispered, his eyes darkening, "you think you're in love with him?" His tone was icy. Icy just like his eyes, and his black, black heart.

He was staring at her with such intensity that Ginny thought she his gaze was going to cut right through her. Any minute now, his eyes would cut right through her face. Right through her head, right through her neck. He was slicing her heart.

"What of it?" she bit out, fighting back a sob. She wouldn't cry in front of Draco Malfoy. It didn't matter how much of an effect his presence had on her. She wouldn't let it show.

"Little Weasley finally gets what she's always wanted," he drawled quietly, avoiding her gaze. He was taunting her in that lazy way of his. How could someone be so cruel so effortlessly? Whatever notions she had about a changed, redeemed Malfoy flew out the door. He was still the insolent brat who'd made fun of her valentine in her first year.

"I see the almighty Potter has finally noticed you." He whispered.

Then he looked directly at her. "Took him long enough."

She glared at him, heart pounding furiously. Her brain was telling her to get the heck out of the situation. Someone is going to see you too in this compromising position! Ginny fought to silence her conscience.

"For your information," she said, in as haughty a voice as she could muster, "I am in love with Harry. Not that you would know what love even is."

At this, his eyes narrowed. "Oh, I suppose you do?"
She sucked in her breath as Draco raised his hand. She stopped herself from wincing as his thumb connected with her face. He traced the contours with her lips with his thumb, ever so delicately.

Why are you doing this?" She whispered, though she didn't really care for the answer. She thought she knew already. It was the same reason she came back every night. "This isn't right." She muttered frantically, "Oh God, I'm such a horrible person. I can't believe I'm betraying Harry like this. And with someone like you – "

"Weasley," he muttered, silencing her as he placed his finger to her mouth, "it's too late to be feeling guilty about your boyfriend now."

His lips curled into a smile, that made him look smug. Ginny was reminded faintly of the Cheshire cat.

"Why?" she asked, "I could just walk away right now. Don't think I have no will of my own – "

"Ginny," he said, which made her suck in her breath. He never called her Ginny. "You stupid, silly girl."

He was drawing in towards her now. He was much too close. She could feel her heart beating violently against her ribcage, and wild thoughts about how she could potentially incur a heart attack raced through her mind. She could feel his breath against her cheek, and his breathing was labored now. It was as if he'd just run a marathon. Despite his heavy breathing, Draco still wore a trace of his trademark smirk on his face. He licked his lips, which glistened in the moonlight.

"Potter's too late," he whispered into her ear. "You're already mine."
And then, like always, he pressed his lips to hers.