Disclaimer: I know it's not mine, thanks for the muse JK! If it's familiar I promise I didn't intentionally steal anything. Enjoy!

Another Lightening Scar

Ginny pressed herself as tightly as she could against the damp dungeon wall. Though entirely invisible thanks to Harry's cloak, she knew she could still very easily be bumped into. Especially with the hustle and bustle currently going on around her.

Forty-five minutes before the big Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match that would decide the House Cup was not a good time to be attempting to sneak into the Slytherin common room. Snake after snake slithered past her on their way to the pitch as she waited for a break in their line to dart through the open pass way.

It was hard for Ginny not to stomp her foot in frustration, it was all that cow Parkinson's fault. She'd stolen Ginny's broom, anything to give Slytherin an advantage over Gryffindor today.

The trail of students seemed unending and Ginny almost turned back. She didn't even know for sure her broom was in there anyway and she was extremely foolish if she thought she could pull this off without getting caught. Plus she was missing warm-up.

But then her brother's recent oh-so-inspiring, consisting-of-mainly-four-letter-words speech came floating back into her head. Right, better to get bitten by a snake than eaten by a lion any day.

That's when the sable-haired head of Pansy came into view followed closely by her gang of Slytherin girls.

"Don't worry, Daphne. That weasel-slag won't be able to get to her broom. It's tucked safely away under my bed. The little Gryffies' star chaser will be forced to use some twig of Hooch's and with Crabbe and Goyle on her like glue and our sexy Nott scoring on her idiot brother this game is as good as won," her voice faded as they moved away and left Ginny a spot just big enough to squeeze through, "It won't even matter that Draco can't ever beat Potter to the snitch..."

There would be no going back now that she knew for sure her broom was down there and Ginny made a beeline for the narrow spiral staircase that descended to the Slytherin common room and dorms. She didn't waste time looking around and immediately glanced toward the spot where she hoped the stairs to the rooms would be. Perfect, just like in Gryffindor tower.

She was thankful that most everyone had left for the game by now and she rushed up the stairs on the left concentrating more on her dwindling time and less on the threat of bumping into someone. Head Girl room – landing one, next came seventh-years, then sixth-years – landing three.

Ginny had seen every single sixth-year Slytherin girl huddled around Parkinson like some sort of perverse harem so she pushed the door open without fear. Her heart leapt into her throat and she reached blindly, catching the heavy oak door just in time to keep it from slamming into the wall.

Shit...shit, shit, shit! None other than Draco Malfoy, the twitchy little ferret himself, was sitting on the foot of the four-poster bed farthest from Ginny. It became quickly apparent that Ginny was definitely not on the girl's side of the dorms. Bollocks, the Slytherin layout must be opposite of Gryffindor!

Malfoy was clad only in his trousers and Quidditch boots, he was bare-chested with his jersey laid out neatly beside him. His Firebolt II was tossed carelessly behind him on his bed.

He hadn't noticed her intrusion yet and he seemed deeply troubled by something. He was stooped over with posture that would make any past Malfoy spin in their grave.

His elbows rested on his knees and he cradled his head in his hands. His fine, sliver-blonde hair cascaded about, obscuring his eyes from her view, and his captain pendant dangled loosely from his neck. His head was tilted slightly to the left and he seemed to be studying something quite intently. He looked so lost, so forgotten...so defeated.

'Merlin, Malfoy,' she thought, 'the game hasn't even started and already you're pouting.'

A draft blew through ruffling the hair that stopped right above his shoulders and he shivered from the chill. That's when he noticed that the door was standing wide open.

Malfoy moved quickly towards where she stood still concealed and Ginny nearly fell in her haste to get out of his way. Now he stood in the doorway effectively cutting off her escape route.

"Who's there?!" he yelled out.

Ginny tried to recover herself as silently as she could but a slight squeak sounded from her Quidditch pads and Malfoy tensed. He shut the door with a hushed click.

He was facing away from her but Ginny swore she could feel all his attention focused directly on the spot where she stood. His back straightened and his shoulders drew outwards and he spun quickly around, his hair forming a hood around his head. Ginny felt as if she was staring into the gaze of the deadliest cobra.

There was no defeat in those steely, narrowed eyes now. He was on the hunt and she was his prey.

She tried to calm her panic. She knew the drill from so many near catches while skulking about in Harry's cloak. She felt cornered but no matter how confidently he stared her down there was no way he saw her. She'd make no more noise and then he'd begin to doubt his own senses. He'd reach for her, move towards her, but she'd retreat stealthily and his fingers would grasp nothing but air. They'd play snake-and-mouse and soon he'd tire and attribute everything to a trick of the mind.

The adrenaline pumped through her veins and she waited for Malfoy to make the first move. He did. His left arm lifted deftly and Ginny shifted the necessary few centimeters. His long fingers drifted through the spot she'd just vacated tenderly, like a lover's caress.

She was careful to stay to the shadowy corner of the room, she didn't want a play of light to give her away. He followed her and his face and hair went gray. His palm turned upwards, a hairsbreadth away from a fold in the cloak.

Time seemed to freeze, a shaft of light fell across his arm and began to show the chalky white skin of his underarm. The faultless image was shattered when a thick, black, lightening shaped burn revealed itself, etched deeply into his skin. The area around it was red, raised and angry.

Ginny gasped in horror at the sight and with a swift flick of his wrist Malfoy had the cloak whisked off of her and clutched tightly in his fist. His silver eyes shone with triumph but it didn't completely cover up the deep unease he felt at being so severely intruded upon.

His right hand jerked her into the light and more fully exposed her to him.

"What are you doing in the my room, Weasel Whore?! Turning into a Peeping Ginny, are we?" he questioned harshly.

But Ginny couldn't answer him, couldn't tear her eyes away from his left arm even though his side now safely concealed the terrible image. How atrocious! What was it? A Dark Mark, but not a complete one? Or maybe one gone horribly wrong. It had looked so incredibly painful, so raw.

"Answer me," he barked, his voice raised from before. He shook her a little, anything to take away the demeaning pity that was emanating from her in waves.

Ginny needed to see it again. Nearly of their own will her small hands grasped his left wrist. She marveled at how her own milky skin looked almost tan next to his. His skin radiated, glowed, was almost translucent. The fine blonde hairs on his arm tickled her palms as she gently cradled it in her grasp.

She bared his underarm to her gaze. Ginny's right fingers skimmed the top of the wound and she could almost feel the heat of his body trying to heal itself, trying to eject the evil that was embedded in it.

He hissed through his teeth, "What are you doing..." But the plaint trailed off and he made no move to pull back from her.

"Oh, Draco," she whispered, her first words since being thrown into this surreal situation.

Her lips descended towards the lesion, a kiss might make it all better, but Draco had other ideas. He jerked his arm from her grasp, and an indiscernible tightening of his eyes was all the hint of the loss he felt.

She stumbled towards him a few steps at the sudden movement, bouncing slightly off his toned chest and then quickly regaining her footing. The moment was broken and Ginny felt her cheeks burn at what she had almost done.

Her hands burned too, from where they'd touched him.

"What exactly are you playing at?! And since when do you call me Draco, little girl?" he spat scathingly. He sheltered his arm behind him and this did not go unnoticed by Ginny.

Her courage returned as his nastiness finally began to raise her ire and she turned golden with her anger. Her cheeks bronzed further and her hair was set aflame in the subdued light falling though the murky lake water and the high windows above. Even her eyes sparked.

"Don't call me names, Malfoy," she advanced and momentarily forgetting he was not one to be intimidated by the likes of a Weasley, Draco retreated.

Bumping into the wall behind him seemed to knock some sense back into him and he resumed his cocky stance, leaning against the cold stones. The temperature seeped into his bones and the ice in his tone froze harder.

She was semi-tall for a girl, but her 5'7" stopped about 7 inches short of scaring him.

"So you want to know the whole sorted story, then, do you?" he drawled bitterly, "All about poor Draco's disastrous first meeting with the self-titled Lord Voldemort? Some nice juicy gossip, maybe good enough to land The Great Potter himself?"

Ginny's lips thinned, "Harry and I are no more than good friends, not that it's any of your business. And as for the tale of Draco the Dark Death Eater, tell me if you want, but you won't hear me ask you to."

She kept her eyes on him and Draco's gaze turned contemplative then something akin to pride entered his ashen depths. He withdrew his arm from its hiding place and seemed to stare past it, remembering.

"You won't believe me," he started, "but this signifies my one crowning achievement."

He glanced keenly at her but Ginny simply crossed her arms over her chest. She made no sign of any inclination to believe or disbelieve.

Draco continued with a smirk, "It seems that it's not only Potter than can dance with the devil and survive."

Ginny's eyes widened a little at the meaning of his words. His smirk grew as he moved towards his bed and threw on his shirt.

"Told you. I knew you wouldn't believe me," he said as he combed his tussled hair straight.

In four long strides Ginny was beside him. She pulled up his sleeve to once again reveal the mark and met his eyes evenly, "There's no doubt I believe you, go on with your story."

He shrugged her off and then donned his Quidditch robes. With the final snap of the silver snake clasp at his throat he was immaculate. For now the mask was back in place. There was no hint of the vulnerable, worried person he'd been just minutes before. But it was a tenuous façade, the material of the costume unraveling and tattered.

"You know my father was one of the Death Eaters that escaped Azkaban last October, right?" he queried.

Ginny's agitation spoke for her as she moved jerkily to fold up Harry's cloak that had been dropped to the floor.

Her voice was discordant and sarcastic, "You mean one of the Death Eaters involved in the escape-slash-attack that nearly killed my brother, Charlie? One of those Death Eaters?!"

And in an instant Draco's eyes grew pained again, "Charlie... Short, but built. Not the handsomest of the Weasleys, but he has eyes that have never looked on a single soul with hate."

Her mouth gaped, but was it from him admitting a Weasley could be handsome or his apt description of Charlie? She couldn't tell which shocked her more, "You only met him once, Malfoy, at the World Cup. And only for a moment where you barely gave any of us the time of day. How do you know what his eyes..."

He interrupted abrasively, "Let me get this out Ginevra, or I might never be able to!"

Ginny was taken aback by his tone, but even more flustered by his use of her full name. How did he even know it? Some of her closest friends didn't even know it. She'd even forbid Ron from telling Hermione.

Draco could see the question in her eyes and for a moment the extremely arrogant bastard he could be came back in full force. Having knowledge that could taunt and hurt someone squared his shoulders and seemed to expand his already imposing build.

He didn't like feeling scrutinized and Ginny's interest in him was unnerving to say the least. He needed to keep the upper hand by any means possible.

"He liked to call you Ginevra didn't he, Ginny? And you called him Tom. It's amazing the things one can learn pressed up mind-to-mind with Beelzebub himself," Draco's words were almost lilting. A cadence of pain that beat upon Ginny emotionally and her neck snapped her head to the side, as if the assault had been physical as well.

She couldn't hide the hurt his words caused. But in this cocoon of revealed secrets they seemed to have created due purely to hapless circumstance she didn't think that would be playing by the rules anyway.

Draco wanted her stripped bare to her hidden depths before he allowed her to dip into his. So she offered no defense and he seemed to shrink back somewhat ashamed at the low he'd stooped to. She wasn't attacking him, not intentionally anyway. And he really did need to talk to someone about what had happened.

"Sorry," he spat, trying to atone for his rudeness, but the word felt foreign on his lips, he tried again more gently, "Sorry. It's just...you can't understand." He collapsed onto a fellow sixth-year's bed, his weight wrinkling its pristine surface. He was tortured.

Ever since he'd learned of Ginny and the diary, Draco had felt a need to talk her, to tell her his secrets and learn her own. He'd taken to watching her and he was sure he'd discovered a kindred soul in her amber eyes. And now, however unexpected her presence was, it was impossible to deny what might be his one chance to learn if he was right.

But this urge to share was alien to Draco, one so use to his isolation and loneliness. And he knew with unshakable certainty that once he started he wouldn't be able to stop. With this girl his defenses would get him nowhere. From this moment on she would yield a control over him that no one before her, and he was sure no one after her, had ever possessed.

Control was so necessary to Draco, could he just give it away to her? But then Ginny joined him where he sat, making no move to touch him, offering him comfort with only her presence. His walls slowly began to crumble.

"I think if anyone did understand it would be me, don't you, Draco? Let me try," she murmured, the exact right words. He was more than a little shocked at how well she read him.

"I've never told anyone this," he sighed and lightly traced the area under his robes where the wound was, "My mother doesn't know, not even Snape knows the whole story. And the hate, and pain, and...the, the evil...sometimes it's too much to bear."

He took a deep breath, collecting himself, "I guess it's better to start at the beginning, that's why I mentioned my father's escape."

"For winter break I went home to my mother, to Malfoy Manor, like usual. One night my father came for me. But it was no 'Hey, son, haven't seen you in awhile, how you been,' kind of visit. He was there with a horde of other Death Eaters, to collect me. It was time for my initiation."

"I was...I was bound and gagged, dragged to Merlin knows where, released and dropped on a stone dais, surrounded completely by Death Eaters." Draco paused and clasped his hands together to still their shaking.

As Ginny studied Draco's profile she was pretty sure the tremors came more from the powerful rush of the memory rather than from fear. Too much dignity filled his faraway gaze to suggest anything else. The happenings might be painful but she already knew the ending pleased him.

He continued, "I turned and behind me was Voldemort. The whole time I'd been in this perpetual state of terror, not knowing exactly what was going to happen to me. And now here I was, faced with Evil himself and fear left me."

Here he turned and met Ginny's gaze almost conspiratorially, like the two of them shared a secret understanding, "He's almost a comical figure, you know? Tall, but I was taller since I was raised up at that point, though I would learn soon I should have been cowering. His face looks like a Halloween mask gone terribly wrong, his skin is white and his eyes are red and slanted like a cats. The only things really scary about him, I think, are his hands. They look like they're straight from the grave. You can almost picture the dirt and years of decay falling from their bones as they claw from the earth."

Ginny shivered at the image Draco conjured in her mind but didn't stop his description to remind him that the Tom she knew had been a handsome boy, not quite yet the mangled, soulless demon he'd become. He patted her leg to reassure her and she was touched by the gesture.

He didn't seem to realize he'd even done this though and pressed forward with his story, "And finally noticing those hands, that's when my fear returned. I hadn't known it but he'd been inside my head the whole time and I heard this little cackle of delight at my realization. My fear of those hands increased when I was introduced to the Cruciatus Curse for the first time. It was also the first time I've ever cowered to the Dark Lord. It will be the last if I can help it."

Draco's voice became more detached as he tried to distance himself from the pain but he didn't stop talking, "It, it went on for awhile and then it stopped. Though, you can't really tell because you're body still spasms some. I knew the spell was over when I first noticed the metallic taste of my shredded tongue in my mouth and the cold, rough stone through my ripped and tattered nightclothes. Here my father sort of propped me up into a sitting position and bared my left underarm, and I saw that the stone beneath me was glowing red, blood red."

"The other Death Eaters were crowding in, they were touching the stone or each other, forming some sort of link. I was in the middle of it and I could feel them inside of me, though still on the outside. Kind of like my mind was a slatted fence but they could all peak through the cracks and peer over the edges and see whatever they wanted to. Voldemort was in the middle, too. He touched his wand to my arm..."

Draco's voice cracked, but Ginny saw no tears in his eyes. She finally touched him, holding the hand that had lain forgotten on her knee, offering her support.

"It doesn't feel painful really, getting the Dark Mark. I mean, I think it is pain, but it's so much that your body just can't process it so instead you feel nothing. Well, you do feel, you feel panic and fear and utter despair, but not physical pain. Your muscles go rigid, clamp up. You, you can't move away and your skin begins to burn. Like I said, you don't feel it, not then anyway," here he once again moved to the spot on his arm, her hand tracing along with his own, "you just see the smoke, the dead skin flaking away, you smell it. And then, then comes the truly awful part."

Ginny could hardly bear to think of something more awful but knowing Tom personally herself it wasn't that hard, "All those soulless eyes are surrounding you, Voldemort's and the other Death Eater's, and you see it."

Draco's hand clenched hers tightly and his pain seemed to flow into her. He still shed no tear, but she shed one for him, "What do you see?" Ginny wasn't sure she wanted to know.

He spoke with agony, "You see it all. You see all the pain anyone in that circle of Hell has ever caused. You see men and women screaming, children sobbing. Explosions, blood, pain, hate. Evil. I saw Charlie, Ginny. I saw him as my father tortured him beyond almost all sanity. I felt my father's hatred, felt his twisted happiness at the pain your brother's death would cause your father and family."

Ginny cried out loud in her anguish now, but Draco didn't stop, "I wanted to turn my mind's eye away from it all, I wanted to just close off and have everything be done with. But then I noticed something. I noticed Charlie's eyes. They were filled with pain and sadness but in the memory they never wavered from my father's face. More importantly they never filled with hate. You wouldn't really think non-hate was all that powerful of an emotion, Ginny, but in a tidal wave of all those feelings in the world that are horrible it becomes an immense weapon. And I latched on to it."

"Voldemort was thrown, I could feel it in him. It was enough weakness for me to grab hold of the hope Charlie had given me and plunge it like a dagger into Voldemort's evil. It was like an explosion went off. The noise was deafening and everyone around me was thrown far away, even Voldemort. They were stunned and I ran. Lucky fool that I am, I ran straight for a team of Aurors that had intelligence of the Death Eater meeting that night and were there on a raid. Someone grabbed hold of my arm and as the darkness dimmed around me I saw your brother's eyes again. I thanked him."

All was quiet in the room, not even the two teenager's breaths made a sound. Nothing could cut through the haze of pain that surrounded them.

Then Draco remembered something else and he once again exposed the mark to their eyes, "It's only half done, it looks like a lightening bolt but it would have been the snake. I wish it had any other shape so I wouldn't have to be reminded of Scarhead for the rest of my life, but I still cherish it. It causes me pain, it doesn't force me to go to Voldemort or anything, but during their calls, meetings, attacks, I feel all the dreadful things they do inside me. It hurts but it's worth it. I'll always know that I'm strong enough to stand up to him and that's everything to me. I stood up against Voldemort and I survived. I'm fiercely proud of that."

Draco released her hand and got up, turning to face her, "Anyway, that's what I was thinking about when you barged in on me."

Ginny chose to ignore that comment, "Why didn't Charlie ever tell anyone about any of this?"

"Because he doesn't know about most of it, "he answered," I didn't tell him, or any of the other Aurors anything more than what they saw When I regained consciousness I acted belligerent and pissy. Furious that they messed up my initiation. Your brother Bill was a ringleader for sending me to Azkaban, but Dumbledore stopped him. I think secretly Charlie supported Dumbledore, too, and that's another reason I was allowed back at Hogwarts. I guess Charlie saw something in my eyes when I thanked him, something that hinted at the truth. Who knows? And who cares, it's not like I need help from the likes of a Weasley. After this semester, Azkaban seems like it would have been bliss."

The cockiness was back, the cover that kept him protected. He stared over her head paying no attention to the sympathy she was still freely offering, to the tears that still fell down her face for him.

Draco knew it was a last ditch attempt of protection at best, knew he didn't mean the words that had just tumbled from his mouth. They were a quickly shifting, sandy trench compared to the fortress he was used to hiding behind. And unsurprisingly she plowed through it like the pitiful excuse it was.

Ginny refused to let the Malfoy in him take hold again and ruin what they'd accomplished. This could be the start of something huge. A friendship between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, it was almost unheard of. This was an opportunity that she couldn't pass up and she wouldn't let Draco do it either.

She gently pulled his arm towards her and without allowing him time to protest pressed her cool lips against his pain. Draco gasped and Ginny didn't move, soon his free hand tangled in her fiery hair.

Her last few tears fell to salve the mutilated skin and then he tugged her head up to see her eyes, "What are you offering here, Ginny?"

She was a little startled by his question. She'd thought it was obvious.

"My understanding, Draco. My comfort," she whispered, but then her voice grew stronger, "We could be friends. You'd no longer have to hide behind the Slytherin hypocrisy and meanness. And us, standing up together and showing everyone that friendship can exist between such opposites as the lion and the snake, well that could go a long way to achieve the unity this school needs to meet the threat of Tom with strength."

He released her now and let out a little laugh, "Friends, huh? What if that's not enough for me, Ginny? What if I want more? What if I need more?" Ginny stood and wiped the tear tracks from her face, she wouldn't back down from this, not when all they'd gained here today might be lost.

She moved in close to emphasize her point, "This is the beginning, Draco, who knows where it might lead. I can offer you today, let that be enough," she answered.

He inched even nearer to her, so close they could feel each other's breaths hitting goose-pimpled skin, "I love exactly one person in this whole world, Ginny. My mother. But I know, deep down that I could love you as well. That's something way more terrifying than Voldemort could ever be. Think on that."

He caressed her cheek and she leaned into his touch. Her eyes drifted closed and in the cape of darkness she could almost forget that he was a Slytherin and she a Gryffindor, she could almost imagine a happy future together.

But then he continued speaking and she was shaken from her fantasy, she opened her eyes to him, "It won't be roses and magic for us. It will be hard and dirty for a long time. And then what of Potter? When we both know he can offer you more that that?"

Ginny held his gaze, "I told you already, Draco. Harry and I are no more than good friends. That's all there is between us."

He looked doubtful but drew her closer still, "No more than good friends? One day he'll notice you and then where will I be?"

He kissed her. She kissed him. There were no fireworks, no fairy serenades, it felt hot, and eager, and needy.

Ginny knew the power she held over him, knew she could hurt him in the worst way if someday given the chance. He made her feel heady with it. He'd chosen her, little Ginny Weasley, and she would be all he would ever want or need. Could Draco do and be the same for her?

The kiss broke, breaths ragged, limbs tingling. They each yearned for more yet both of them stepped back.

"Draco?! Are you in here? Why aren't you with the team..." Snape's voice trailed off in surprise, "So this is where the other missing player is as well. It seems Professor McGonagall's search of Gryffindor tower will be futile."

"Well, I don't know why Ron didn't just tell her where I'd gone," Ginny remarked huffily, though her stance gave no hint of the irritation she felt at being interrupted.

Snape's mouth thinned at her tone, "I'm sure your esteemed captain didn't want to join you in your punishment for sneaking into the Slytherin dorms."

He grabbed the cloak from the trunk she'd set it on, shaking it in her face as proof of her crime, "Did you hope to cause some harm to Slytherin's star player?!"

Draco interceded, he too expertly concealing any feelings that might have been bubbling just beneath the surface, "Professor, she's done nothing to me. And you know I'm always the first in line to get a Gryffindor in trouble. She's here because Parkinson stole her broom."

Snape was unconvinced, "Then how has she come to be in the boys dorms, to be in your room?"

Ginny fended for herself now, "The layout is opposite of Gryffindor tower. I got turned around."

She turned to Draco, suspicion threatening to tarnish the shiny new image of the man she was beginning to get to know. He was right, no friendship or relationship would be easy for the two of them, "How'd you know about my broom?"

He smirked, but there was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes that she'd never noticed before in any of their other run-ins. His knowing gaze taunted her as he seemingly read her thoughts.

For a moment Ginny was sure he would slip back into the familiar cuts and jabs that had for so long defined their past, but instead a lighter tone came out to match his eyes and Draco told the truth, "I heard Pansy crowing about it earlier. I decided to bring it out to the pitch with me."

But he just couldn't resist, "Besides, when Slytherin beats Gryffindor today I want everyone to know it's because we're better. I don't want any baby cubs crying about unfair advantages."

He pulled Ginny's broom out from under his bed and tossed it to her.

Snape, if possible, looked even sourer at his chance of punishing a Gryffindor being yanked away from him, "Fine, then if we're settled the game is supposed to start in five minutes, we must hurry. I'll tend to Miss Parkinson's punishment later."

Ginny couldn't hold back her scoff of doubt but she was out the door before Snape could say anything about it. Draco turned to follow but Snape stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, "So what do you think, Draco. Will this finally be the year you beat Potter to the snitch?"

Draco couldn't hold back his wry grin and gave his Head of House a swift nod.

The End

Author's Note

Well, I think it's rather obvious that the Snitch = Ginny. But just in case I didn't make it clear I'll go ahead and beat y'all in the head with it.

And also, I like to think that Slytherin won the game. Oh, it's all because Draco caught the Snitch before Harry. I mean with Gryffindor's fabulous Keeper the Slytherins weren't scoring at all and good old Ginny was racking up the points on them. But Draco did like a good Captain should a brought home the gold.

And then Ginny and Draco shocked the whole school by meeting at center field and shaking hands and telling each other "good game". Of course to Ginny's slight annoyance Draco shoved the win in Ron and Harry's face until the match the next year. But there's only so much a person can change, he is our favorite Slytherin after all, right?

Please review...and hey, will y'all go a give my other fanfic a read? It's called In Times of War...it's a Remus/Molly pairing. I know, I know y'all are all aghast, but it's a genuine fanon possibility, I think. So I'd love some reviews to that one, too.

Thanks for reading!

Sisi