Chapter One

A trolley teetered on one wheel as it was hurled round the corner of a brick pillar, its parcels and suitcases swaying precariously to one side and causing the snowy owl in the large cage to screech loudly.

'Sorry Hedwig,' panted Harry breathlessly as several curious heads turned. Most Londoners had never seen an owl, let alone one in King's Cross Station accompanied by a scruffy-looking dark-haired boy of sixteen or seventeen and presumably all his worldly possessions. Some assumed he was on the run; others, that he was part of a circus; a few more enlightened onlookers were aware of the wizarding world and smiled at the boy who was blatantly late for the Hogwarts Express.

Harry slid to a halt before the appropriate pillar and, after a surreptitious glance around him, leant sideways in a casual manner. The air around him blurred and a new platform came into view, complete with a whole contingent of wizards and witches saying goodbye to their families.

Harry had spent the last week with the Dursleys, to his utter dismay, and theirs. This had meant that he then had to get himself to the station without magic; this had proved more difficult than he had thought due to the size of the luggage he had brought with him. He hoped next year not to be going back to the Dursleys at all and had therefore gathered up all his possessions.

A shrill whistle sounded, and a slim red-haired girl appeared through the steam from the train.

'Hurry up, Harry, I'll give you a hand with your stuff,' she said whilst grabbing Hedwig and his Firebolt. 'Ron and Hermione are doing prefect-y things and sent me to help you.'

He smiled at the mention of his best friends, now sixth years at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and managed to manoeuvre his trunk through the door of the Express without injuring himself or Ginny.

'I saved the others a compartment, it's just down here,' Ginny called out, beckoning him to follow her. Harry did so, grinning at her bossiness as she continued to exclaim at the heaviness of his luggage, his lateness, and the way his hair stood on end.

'Ginny, I haven't seen you for two months, can I at least have a proper hello before you start nagging me?' he countered. She turned and smiled at him, lighting her face up with a beautiful glow.

'I'm sorry, Harry.' She gave him an awkward bear hug with Hedwig's cage under one arm.

A cough came from behind; Harry's Quidditch rival and general all-round bastard Draco Malfoy sneered at them both as they turned to see who was there. 'Well, well, quite the touching little reunion, Potter,' he commented, giving Ginny a quick up and down. 'If you weren't such a Muggle-loving traitor, Weasley, I might even have a go myself. However, I wouldn't like to think of where you've been before, contaminated by Mudbloods, I imagine; a problem for a worthy pure-blood like myself.' At the mention of Mudbloods, he gave a theatrical shudder.

Harry snorted. 'As if Ginny would have anything to do with you, a slimy, unattractive, ferrety little git; she has better taste.'

He turned his back on the blond Seeker and picked up his abandoned luggage before staggering the last couple of feet to the compartment where Neville and Luna waited. Ginny lagged behind to give Malfoy an evil look then followed Harry, muttering abuse under her breath as she went. As Harry entered the compartment, he tripped on his shoelace and went flying into Neville's lap. Luna started to cackle, and the luminous hat of golden shrubbery she was wearing slipped over her blonde head and lodged around her nose. Ginny found herself standing amongst complete chaos as Harry struggled to get up from his prone position while laughing, Luna tried to push the hat off, and Neville scooped up the kitten that had run off hissing and now was trying to bat Hedwig's extremely disgruntled beak.

Having restored order to the carriage, no one saw a blond head appear, look through the glass door, and leave as silently as he had arrived. Luna's googly eyes still held a trace of merriment as she welcomed Harry back from the holidays. She had grown prettier over the holidays, though she could still be classed as unusual looking, rather than traditionally pretty. Her esoteric ways had not changed either, as the hat had proved. As Ginny had been the one to tug the leafy branches from Luna's head, she asked the question Harry had been dying to ask.

'What on earth is this for Luna? It's not another one of those freebies from the Quibbler, is it?' Luna smiled and placed it back on her head.

'Daddy said that Chizpurfles were found on the train over the summer and that this acts as a repellent. They don't like the colour gold, you see'.

Stifling a giggle, Ginny agreed and settled herself into the corner seat next to the other girl. Neville and Harry got into a discussion about Quidditch, as boys are prone to do, and Luna was free to talk to Ginny privately.

'Did you sort out the You-Know-Who issue, Ginny? I know you said you didn't fancy him anymore, but he does seem quite keen on you'. Her normally gentle wispy voice was straight to the point, and the keen glint in her eye showed that Miss Lovegood was in Ravenclaw for a reason.

'If by You-Know-Who you mean the non-evil, best friend of Ron rather than You Know Who, the evil wizard trying to take over the world, then yes, I suppose I have sorted it out,' Ginny rejoined with a cheeky grin. She had also blossomed over the summer, her lithe frame complimented by a shimmering swathe of auburn hair and a pale complexion with freckles dotted across her cheekbones. As her confidence had grown, she was not in need of the security of her crush on the Boy Who Lived, and as she had confided in Luna over the summer, she could now admit that if she did date Harry, it would be weird. Think of all the time she'd have to spend with Ron for a start!

Interrupted by a small meow, Ginny allowed the little kitten to jump onto her lap and stroked it gently.

'Is he yours, Luna?'

'Yes, I thought I'd name him Sev.'

Ginny started to laugh. 'You … you … named your kitten after SNAPE?'

Neville and Harry joined in the laughter, and Ginny started to leak tears of pure hilarity before stuttering, 'Please, can I be the one to let it slip that Luna named her sweet little black cat after the great hook-nosed flapping bat himself?' and then collapsing with laughter again.

Luna justified herself by saying, 'I admire him as a teacher, and I find dark hair very attractive,' which only prompted more laughter; laughter that was interrupted by a sardonic voice from the doorway, 'You may like to get off the train this term.' He swiftly turned on his heel and swept away.

Neville looked confused. 'Was that a Slytherin, Harry? I didn't recognise him.'

'Yeah, Zabini, I think, he's got a poncy first name, Blaise. I thought he was a girl when I first heard it.'

'Nice of him to let us know about the train; very un-Slytherin,' Neville commented, then realised the train had in fact ground to a halt at Hogsmeade station, causing a rushed panic towards the exit.

As the train puffed onwards, all the friends inhaled a deep breath of the fresh air.

'There's definitely something to be said for having your school in the deepest darkest depths of Scotland,' commented Harry as the stunning scenery came into view as the steam cleared. The others agreed and smiled as a girl rushed up, her rosy lips in a broad grin, and flew into Harry's arms.

'Hermione Granger! Where have you been all this time?' he chided her jokingly. Hermione's bushy hair looked even more dishevelled than Harry's and her blush, coupled with Ron's arrival with what looked like lip gloss on his face, allowed Harry to snigger gently and clap Ron on the back.

'Finally ask her out, did you, mate? Well done, it only took you till sixth year.'

Hermione said sniffily, 'Actually, I asked him,' before smiling again as Ron took her small hand in his large one.

'Ah, how sweet!' his youngest sibling jibed, 'Ronniekins has a girlfriend!' She winked almost apologetically at Hermione who might not understand the duties of a sister, as she was an only child.

Ginevra Molly Weasley, a girl of many talents: fiendish with a wand, player of Quidditch and pranks equally. Pure-blooded but sympathetic towards Muggles, kind to animals and people, and more than passingly attractive. She had not escaped notice by other occupants of Hogwarts, including a pair of Slytherins walking down to their dungeon home.

'Saw the Weasel girl again, nice pair of tits on her.'

'Yeah, but I'm more of a legs man myself.'

'Speaking of tits, have you seen Midgen's?'

'Think of the face they're attached to, though.'

'True.'

Their voices faded as they passed round the corner and down a steep set of stone stairs.

Meanwhile, Ginny Weasley, owner of the aforementioned 'nice tits', was spreading out her family quilt across her bed. Her mum had made it for her when all her brothers had left home, and it was made up of contrasting pieces of fabric which signified each brother as well as Arthur and Molly themselves. A simple charm had animated the quilt, and a dragon puffed smoke from its nostrils in the right hand corner, plainly fast asleep. Identical monkeys were playing high up in a tree, a wolf symbolised Bill as it loped across the frozen mountains at the top of the quilt, an owl flew noiselessly over it, and two swans swam side by side. Two dogs gambolled along meadows of flowers, one large and broad, the other lithe and graceful. Such it had always been, the two youngest always together. Although the quilt itself was beautiful, Ginny felt that the fact her mum had taken the time to make it for her, had realised how tough it would be at home alone, really showed the size of heart her mum had. She stroked it one more time before unpacking the final item from her suitcase.

A diary. Not an arcane diary, not one ounce of evil or even anything mildly wicked; she had checked this thoroughly after 'the incident', mostly by prodding it with her wand and yelling 'come out, foul fiend' before taking it to be checked by Hermione. Haven been given the all clear, the silk covered book had been filled with thoughts, sketches, and photographs along with several ideas for stories and bits of homework unfinished. Ginny could freely admit that her writing was unpolished at best, but writing things down seemed to clear her mind. Harry had told her about the Pensieve belonging to Dumbledore and, although the Weasleys had never seen the need for such an expensive item, she could imagine it worked in a similar manner. Putting it in her bag, she went down to the common room to find the others so that they could get to the welcoming feast and witness the Sorting.

'It seems like yesterday when we were getting Sorted,' Hermione sighed, 'and now look at us.'

Ron, still clutching her hand as if she was about to run off, replied jovially, 'You make us sound ancient, Hermione, we've still got a bit of time left.' She sighed again, more deeply.

'It all seemed so easy then, just get the grades and don't piss off Snape too much.'

Harry looked up from the long table they were joining.

'I know what you mean, Hermione; it sometimes feels like an unending battle between me and Voldemort, broken up by detentions with Snape and Hogsmeade visits.' A quiet silence passed between the trio. This maudlin atmosphere greeted Ginny, and she slotted in next to Ron and drew out her diary so she could sketch the teachers at the table. She took great delight in drawing them as they looked and then drawing little caricatures next to them, enhancing features and qualities. She sniggered under her breath as she drew talons peeping out from underneath Snape's robes and Dumbledore clutching a packet of lemon sherbets.

Over at the Slytherin table, Crabbe and Goyle were fighting over a chicken leg in the manner of mangy mutts fighting over a bone. Malfoy cast a dismissive gaze across them and with a wave of his wand banished the chicken completely.

'Such idiots,' he muttered, looking to Zabini for acknowledgement. Blaise nodded and turned his attention to Pansy, who was pouting next to him, unaware her dark hair was trailing in her soup. Pansy was not unattractive, but something about her expression showed the manipulative person that she really was. As this was a quality to be prized in Slytherin, along with social standing, wealth, and cunning, she was the most popular girl by far. However, after a messy break-up from Malfoy over the holidays, she was looking for a new boy-toy to parade, and handsome Blaise, with his wicked grin, dark hair, and blue eyes, was next on her list. He chivalrously removed her hair from the bowl, and with a tap of his wand, removed all traces of carrot and coriander. She simpered coquettishly, and he turned away hastily. Malfoy smiled at the look of horror on Blaise's face; his friend had just unintentionally encouraged Pansy the man-eater!

Dumbledore stood up and clapped loudly.

'Students, this year we have a rather novel situation in that Professor Snape will be helping me to teach Defence against the Dark Arts. I can't understand the current lack of enthusiasm for the Defence against the Dark Arts position –' at this his eyes twinkled behind his eyeglasses – 'however, this will leave us both with a great deal of work to do, so I will be looking for some volunteers from the upper years to help out; this will be hard work, but it will stand you in good stead for the exams.'

Harry watched Hermione's face show her internal battle between access to more knowledge and having to work with Snape, while Ron muttered, 'Can't see anyone stupid enough to do that, don't we spend enough time with Snape as it is without DADA and extra work on top?' Neville grimaced at Ron's comment and sneaked a look at Snape, cowering as his eyes met that gimlet stare.

'You really need to get over that fear, Neville, just turn it into hatred like the rest of us,' whispered Harry slyly.

'I hate him, but I still want to wet myself when he looks at me like that,' Neville whispered back.

The meal finished, the students began to drift back to their common rooms, leaving Ginny still at the Gryffindor table trying to perfect the drawing of the Slytherin table. She had caught the wheedling look in Pansy's eyes, the horror politely hidden on Blaise's beautiful face, and was just starting on Malfoy's facial expression when the man himself appeared behind her.

'Weasley, you seem to have some talent. And here I was thinking you had nothing but rags and an awful reputation to your name.' She slammed the book shut and whirled round, sparks flying from her hazel eyes.

'You are unbelievably rude; we may be monetarily poor, but we have about a million times more love in our family than you'll ever have from your cold heartless parents!'

'Calm down, Weasley, or you'll give yourself an apoplexy,' he replied coolly, unaffected, before sauntering off. Ginny stormed back to the Gryffindor tower angrily and spent the rest of the evening in a huff.

'Been baiting the Weasel again, Draco?' Blaise asked as he draped himself over a sofa in the Slytherin common room. It was empty aside from himself and Malfoy.

'What can I say? She reacts in exactly the same way as her brother and has some brain cells to back it up. I find it very amusing.'

Blaise laughed. 'Everyone's a target for your amusement, Draco.'

This was met by a smooth smile and then a grin. 'Especially you and Pansy earlier; better watch out Blaise, took me about three years to disentangle myself from her affections!' Blaise shot a look of horror at Draco and the expression reminded Draco of what the little Weasel had been doing.

'You have to see the drawing she was doing Blaise, it was …'

'Hilarious? Dumbledore doing a tap dance with Snape watching adoringly?'

'True,' Draco said quietly. 'She was drawing us, and she had caught such a likeness, but not just of look, but character, too,' he mused, turning it over in his head. He thought suddenly, I wonder how she would have drawn my facial expression? Then he shook the thought away as Blaise said,

'What do you mean, Draco?'

'Blaise, you are my best friend; I have known you since I was a toddler. But she caught your essence in one drawing, and no one else has ever looked at you and seen anything but a pure-blooded Slytherin.' The friends considered this and continued to discuss in quiet tones what this meant for them before changing the discussion to Quidditch as the rest of their house returned from their lessons.

Meanwhile, Ginny Weasley was ensconced in a private corner of the castle. Having befriended a portrait of a governess who was teaching two small children to paint, she had been told that no one came to this little dead end of the castle, and she would be quite safe from any prying eyes. She frowned at the drawing. It was not going well. Pansy had been easy to draw, her little pug-like nose straining for attention, brown glossy hair trailing, blue eyes trained on Draco's reaction rather than Blaise's.

Serious case of unrequited love there she thought, then realised that it was probably lust for what Draco could offer her. Malfoys may be slimy bastards, but they were rich and powerful. Blaise, too, had been easy. The result had been disconcerting, however. He was beautiful, from an artistic point of view, but the affection between him and the unfinished portrait of Malfoy was undeniable. His eyes showed a hint of kindness and he even looked … jolly ...? She laughed at herself. A Slytherin could not be jolly, yet she couldn't paint him any other way. Malfoy was causing similar problems. She was imagining his smirking face, evil incarnate, the pure-blooded git himself. But the image she was painting showed a noble profile, a grin threatening the corners of his mouth as he spotted the Blaise/Pansy drama. He was pushing his blond hair out of his eyes. Eyes she had painted silver grey in spite of her brain telling her they were probably blue. She finished the drawing, painted in the final flecks of colour, and stared at it. There would be a mutiny in the Gryffindor common room if this came to light: Slytherins shown as people with admirable qualities as well as howling flaws? What a ridiculous notion. Well, at least Ginny could show Luna.

Luna Lovegood was having a good day. None of her belongings had gone missing, she hadn't been sneered at once, and she had found a new book in the library on Animagi. Because Sev was still a baby, she had sneaked the little kitten into the library in her school bag and settled into a dark and musty corner. She would love to become an Animagus, and she set to wondering what kind of animal she would become. She also thought that it was highly likely that it would match your Patronus; both were the animals that reflected your soul. Sev kneaded her leg with his tiny paws, and seeing his mistress deep in thought, decided to go and explore. He batted an abandoned piece of paper under a shelf and followed it under.

Luna stirred; she had nearly finished the book and had decided it wouldn't be that hard to become an Animagi; she would ask Dumbledore whether she could take extra lessons. Looking around for her black kitten, she could not see him anywhere.

'Sev?' she exclaimed, prompting a 'Shush!' from Madam Pince, whose hearing was as keen as could be. Luna hurried through the shelves, searching methodically for her little cat, calling for him quietly.

'Sev?' she repeated as she rounded the corner and abruptly crashed into the tall form of Professor Snape. He looked at her, puzzled. Her misty eyes rounded in horror, and just as her mouth opened to jabber some kind of explanation, her gaze dropped. A little black kitten lay fast asleep in his hands, its paws wrapped around a little mouse toy.

Snape said frostily as he gently passed the kitten to her waiting hands, 'You should keep a more careful eye on your possessions, Miss Lovegood.' He then turned on his heel and swept away. Her jaw dropped even further. Her quick mind assessed the situation, surely a Trogurt had infected Snape, and they were known to cause rapid changes in character and also lived in dark cold places. If that wasn't it, then why hadn't he taken points away for bringing the kitten to the library in the first place? Especially as Ravenclaw were ahead of Slytherin by miles. She cuddled the kitten to her chest and wandered off to find Ginny.

Hermione sighed. She only wanted to do her homework, and Harry and Ron were acting like children, bouncing around the common room.

'Boys! Calm down! I know it's exciting that the Chudley Cannons are in the final of the League!' she yelled. This only provoked more whooping, and a Cannons hat flew through the air and landed squarely on her head. Ginny edged into the room and then, upon seeing Ron jumping up and down on one of the sofas, backed out hastily.

She bumped into Dean, who shrugged his shoulders and said, 'I would be just the same if West Ham made it to the final.'

Ginny replied, 'Oh, is that what all this fuss is about? I thought that maybe the Death Eaters had surrendered their wands to Dumbledore in an intricate ballet, where they all wear pink tutus and Voldemort blesses all the Muggles with long life and happiness. No? Disappointing.'

Dean laughed and said, 'Uh Ginny, you know there's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up?'

'Yes, Dean?'

'Fancy coming with me?' Ginny paused, turning it over in her head. She liked Dean a lot, but she didn't fancy him.

'I've promised to go with Luna, but you can come in with us if you like,' she offered.

'It's okay, Ginny; I'll probably see you there. I'll hang around with Neville if Seamus is off with Abbott again,' he said, adding, 'It's not that I dislike old Loopy, but I don't think I could spend a whole day with her.'

Ginny forced a smile and gestured back to the common room. 'Gotta go; catch you later.'

She hated it when people judged Luna. She may be a little eccentric, but she was the best friend Ginny had ever had, and she accepted Ginny as herself, not another offshoot of the Weasley family. To Ginny's surprise, Luna had never had a boyfriend, despite her intelligence and her prettiness. She supposed the talk of strange Snorkacks and Nargles scared them off; boys were so immature at their age, scared of anything different in case their friends mocked them for it.

She shook her head vigorously and realised how silly she would look if anyone were watching. Checking the dorms for people, she walked to the adjoining bathroom. A large painting of a pastoral scene hung on the wall, and Ginny spoke to the milkmaid quietly.

'Can you let me out this way, Sally? Don't want to face Dean or Ron at the mo.' The milkmaid turned towards her, pink cheeks shining.

'Course, Ginny, you know where the handle is. Nice to speak to someone other than Ol' Daisy here.' She gave the cow's rump an affectionate pat. A tree in the background wiggled and sprouted an extra branch, which grew and grew until it resembled a gnarled oak handle. Ginny grasped it and walked through.

The secret passage had brought her out near the Ravenclaw common room, and Ginny hailed the first person she saw.

'Oi, Mike, have you seen Luna anywhere?'

He shrugged, then said, 'I think I saw her heading up those stairs, but you never know with Loopy.'

Ginny thanked him coldly, and seeing the stairs start to grate and move, ran at full speed up them. Jumping off the top stair, she collapsed panting and found herself opposite the Room of Requirement. She knocked gingerly, knowing that it was used when clandestine meetings were needed. The door swung open to show a little sitting room, occupied by her friend who was toasting marshmallows. In one corner sat Sev, with every kind of food on a plate around him and his own little fire to stretch out in front of. 'The room obviously included everything Sev wanted, too,' said Luna, not even turning to look.

Ginny gave her a big hug and said, 'I have loads of stuff to tell you, Luna, have a look at this.' Luna smiled and opened Ginny's diary to the latest page. The drawing Ginny had completed stared up at her. Luna's eyes grew rounder.

'This is brilliant, Ginny.'

Ginny sighed. 'It doesn't seem very real, though.'

Luna looked at her beadily. 'I think you are mistaken. This is how I see the Slytherins, Blaise in particular.'

Ginny realised then that she had started to think of Zabini as Blaise as well.

Luna continued, 'Gryffindors pride themselves on their honour and loyalty, but in their way, they are as bigoted as any other house. You have finally realised that all the houses just contain people of all kinds with all different personalities; can you imagine a full quarter of Hogwarts being irredeemably evil? Slytherin's reputation is self-perpetuating; the more people whisper and sneer at them, the less likely that others will join them. Think of Harry!'

Ginny interrupted. 'What about Harry?'

Luna looked a little dismayed then carried on. 'Please don't mention this to anyone else, but the hat said he could be in Slytherin. He chose not to because people like your brother and Hermione already knew of the reputation of the house.' Ginny remembered then that she had asked the hat to be in Gryffindor.

'Do you think everybody chooses what house they want to be in?'

Luna smiled at her. 'I believe that people choose the house they want to be in for the qualities that they themselves admire. It doesn't depend wholly on what qualities you possess already, but the houses help you to become the person you want to be.'

Ginny acknowledged this and thought carefully for a while. 'I'm going to try to be more understanding and friendlier towards everyone,' she announced. 'If there's one thing I simply can't stand, its prejudice. I shall try to judge everyone on their own merit.'

Luna said slyly, 'You'll have to talk to Draco then, that's a wonderful likeness of him.'

Ginny giggled, 'Can you imagine? One minute I'm biting his head off, the next asking him if he'd like to join our study group!' Her eyes widened. 'A study group! Let's start something a little similar to the DA, only for everyone. We can work on anything that people put forwards, help the littles with homework and prepare for exams.' The friends bent over a piece of parchment and planned out who, how, and where. A burst of laughter greeted Luna as she informed Ginny of her run-in with Snape and also her unintentional stealing of the Animagi book from the library. The girls agreed that the older members of their new group might like to have a look at the book, as it would make an interesting project. After an hour, the fire burning steadily in the grate, Ginny and Luna went off to find Dumbledore.

Draco and Blaise had just finished Arithmancy and were wandering down the corridor aimlessly when they met Ginny and Luna standing outside the gargoyle giggling hysterically as they yelled out types of sweets. They had obviously reached the bottom of the barrel as Luna said with difficulty, 'Llama violets,' with tears pouring down her face and sat down abruptly, holding her sides. Blaise smiled and grabbed her arm to help her up before saying, 'Chupa Chup,' at the gargoyle. It swung back to reveal a wooden staircase lined by portraits of elderly people and intricately embroidered tapestries above carved banisters. The smile vanished off Blaise's face and Draco's sneer returned.

'Run off to Dumbledore,' Blaise said.

Draco added, 'I never knew you were a blood-traitor, Lovegood, but if you hang around with Weasley, you must be.'

'Poor form,' crowed a portrait from the stairs. 'How dare you insult a lady!'

Ginny clutched Luna's arm as she turned to face the Slytherin boys. It was only then she realised how tall and broad they both were and straightened in an unconscious effort to look taller and more imposing than her five foot two.

Luna looked at Blaise, smiled mysteriously, and then swept imperiously up the staircase saying loudly as she went, 'He's good-looking isn't he, I've always said I like dark haired boys.'

Ginny gasped and then recovered quickly, replying with, 'At least he isn't Snape.' The gargoyle grated shut.

'Well, that's it, Blaise. They are definitely on to us now. And Luna fancies you,' snapped Draco. Blaise just smiled slightly and walked on.

A letter drifted into Draco's lap. He had been doing his potions and chewing the end of his quill absentmindedly. He spat out the end of the feather in disgust earning a glance from Theodore Nott.

'I say, Malfoy, very elegant.' Theo was a friend of Draco's, but he was not under as much parental pressure as Draco, mostly because his father was in prison. He was free to do what he liked, and although he wasn't overly keen on Mudbloods, he didn't want to scourge them from the earth completely. In other words, he was as well balanced as a Slytherin could be while still valuing the principles that made him a pure-blood. Draco smirked slightly.

'I have more elegance in my little finger than you do in your entire body, Nott.' With that, he delicately opened the letter that the owl had delivered.

Draco,

All the arrangements are in place. I suggest you lay low; it will happen at the time discussed previously. Until then, you must act normally. Please inform the others that are trustworthy. I am sorry it had to come to this, but rest assured you are doing the right thing.

It was unsigned, but as he touched the parchment a golden feather burned into existence, then vanished as the whole paper went up in flames, then, as quickly as it had erupted, disintegrated into ash.

'Luckily it was only you and me in here, Nott, that was very unsubtle,' Draco commented. 'Can you do me a favour and call up Zabini, Parkinson, and all the normal crowd. Tell them to meet us in the usual place after dinner.' He added, 'I know I don't have to tell you to be subtle, Nott, but make sure that none of them start blabbing it around, this is important.' Nott nodded, his usual flamboyant tone dimmed.

'This is it, Draco, isn't it?' A grim nod met his comment, and the blond boy turned on his heel and left the common room.

Draco sighed. Funny that all he could think of earlier was how the youngest weasel had looked at him. Ginny. Now, as always, his father had screwed everything up. Lucius had never been a kind man. He had believed that strength and power were what was needed to exert influence and Draco had followed him unerringly through his childhood. Having forbidden contact with those not worthy of Draco's time and told him that kindness was for the weak and feeble, Lucius had hardened his son's heart. That same heart sank, now he would have to bully her as much as before, hide the glint of humanity showing through his Slytherin exterior.

Winter crept up on the castle, her cloak of snow and ice resting around Hogwarts, much like every other year. Her grip held Hogwarts prisoner, but, to her surprise, the festivities continued. Ginny and Luna had enlisted the help of Neville, their resident Herbology expert, to give a talk on the plants of Christmas and their uses. Their study group had gone from strength to strength, though, to their dismay, only one Slytherin from seventh year had made an appearance. Theodore Nott sat next to Luna as Neville concluded with some interesting facts about mistletoe and took a deep bow. His animated face showed how much he had grown in confidence. A small first year came up to Ginny.

'Um, Ginny,' he said as he tugged shyly on her elbow.

'Yes, Ben?'

'Thank you for helping me with my Charms last week, Flitwick said I'd really improved, and I even managed to get a question right for Hufflepuff in Potions with Snape!' Ginny smiled and congratulated him before leaving the Room of Requirement with Luna, leaving the others to eat mince pies and chat.

Ginny had spent the past few weeks watching Malfoy. She knew his every move. Luna called it 'stalking,' but Ginny knew there was something going on. He was sniping at Ron and Hermione, snapping at the first years, and making horrendous innuendoes about her and Harry. It was most Malfoy-esque. Yet something didn't feel right. His taunts seemed lacklustre, and every drawing she did showed his beautiful bone structure and the innate goodness of his soul, along with that flawless colouring. She thought she was going crazy. She confided in Luna and in Colin, who as a photographer might know what was happening.

He had smiled at her and said, 'Trust me; Malfoy is that attractive on the outside, on the inside, no one knows. Why don't you ask Zabini? He seems close to Serpent Boy.'

Ginny had not taken Colin's advice but had thought on it. Everything had seemed to change just after their chance encounter where Blaise had been nice to Luna. A knee-jerk reaction had resulted in insults thrown, but they had not been truly biting. It had been after that then. Something unconnected with herself and Luna.

Ginny sat on the cold stone windowsill. Peace settled around her, far away from the putting up of the Christmas trees in the Great Hall with everybody yelling and dancing some music that seemed to be coming from the starlit ceiling. She started to draw a picture of Ron, Hermione, and Harry; she would give it to Hermione for Christmas. She blew on her fingers in an attempt to warm them up. Without noticing, she began to hum, and then to sing, a Christmas carol her mum had taught her.

Draco had escaped the crush in the Great Hall and was walking to the Owlery when he heard a voice. In an alcove he had never noticed before, Ginny Weasley was sitting. Her red hair fell in a shimmering mass over one shoulder, her mouth moved slowly as an old witching carol fell from her lips. She rubbed her hands together to stave off the cold then continued to draw. A sudden 'damn' dropped from her lips and she screwed up the page and threw it into the corner. Draco picked it up and stared at it. It was Potter, the Mudblood, and Ginny's brother. The painting was beautifully executed, catching the golden highlights of Hermione's hair, the glint off Harry's glasses, and Ron's cheeky grin. The problem was this: Ron was giving a subtle jealous look to Harry; Hermione was looking smug; and Harry, slightly sulky.

'You've made it too real, Weasley' he commented. 'They won't like the fact you've painted their faults.'

Ginny had started at his first words. 'I know,' she said. 'It's my third try, and I can't keep the real them from coming through! I know they have so many good points, and they are all in the painting as well, but I can't seem to lie!' Draco gave it back to her.

'Why don't you paint them on separate pieces of paper then charm them onto the same. Then they won't interact with each other so much.' Ginny nodded then became reabsorbed in her painting.

'Thank you, Draco. Merry Christmas.' He turned on his heel and walked on to the Owlery, cursing himself inwardly.

His father would hear of this; he had spies all around the castle. It was not that Draco cared for Ginny, he reassured himself. He must not show any emotion that was not appropriate for a Death Eater's son and future follower of Voldemort; it was important that he follow in his father's footsteps.