Longer summary: After being sorted into Slytherin Ginny Weasley had to survive in the house of snakes. A lonely first year caused her to confide in Riddle's diary and she nearly died in the Chamber of Secrets. But boy she had never seen before saved her life, and haunts her dreams from there on. And as she hides from herself behind the cold mask of a Slytherin and fights her way to the top of her house, she can't forget her saviour. Until the day she sees him again…as a part of the Durmstrang delegation.

Raised by Narcissa Black who gave up everything to fulfil the last wish of her dead best friend, Harry Potter, known to the world as James Black, wants no part in the approaching war.

But he, too, can't forget the redhead he saved years ago and when he returns to Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament, he meets her again and sees a broken, hurt soul. They have both seen life in every way, but can they find solace in each other and win a war that has only just begun.

AN: For the sake of this story, Astoria and Daphne are cousins, not sisters.

Chapter 1: An Introduction of kinds

It is our dreams that make us strong, for without them, we would have no reason to fight.

"There is nothing like a dream to create the future." Victor Hugo

This country had lived through its share of wars, as had many others, and now, during the summer months of the year 1995, there was peace here, at least for a short amount if time. But the two men, if they could be called that, who were assembled in the clearing were anything but peaceful. After long years of being bound by others, they were free from all that and now plotting their revenge and return to power. The younger of them was kneeling on the ground in front of the other who was placed opposite him, a snake slithering around him.

"Pettigrew is dead, have you heard?"

"How should I have, caught here in this lonely place?" The voice was hissing and bitter and the other man inched away. "Forgive me, my lord. I did not mean to be presumptuous. He hid away as the rat he always was, but was discovered and killed by Sirius Black. When he showed the warm corpse and told his story under Veritaserum, he was declared innocent."

The other man gave an angry hiss. "It is a pity how the Blacks throw their lives away. Rich pure-bloods of the best stock and yet all of them defy me. Regulus chose to betray me, his brother never even joined me, he preferred to be Dumbledore's lapdog, their cousin ran away, and it seems that Narcissa has disappeared as well. That really is a pity. Her son would have been an excellent addition to my ranks, with time. At least Bellatrix shall not betray me."

"She is of the most loyal, my lord."

He gave another hiss. "Ah, but you still dislike her. You fear her, Bartemius, because you know that you will never measure up to her."

"With all due respect my lord, but it is I who is here while she rots away in prison."

"Your father freed you, didn't he? He freed you and kept you captive."

"I escaped."

"Well, yes, I suppose you did. But we aren't talking about what is important any longer. You told me you met Bertha Jorkins."

"Yes, my lord. She informed me that the Triwizard Tournament would be taking place at Hogwarts this year. They wanted to have it last year, but Lucius Malfoy delayed the proceedings, or so she told me. Rumours are that he wanted his son at Hogwarts when the Tournament would take place- makes connections for the future, that kind of stuff. Malfoy lost a lot of influence since his wife divorced him. She took almost all of the money and his heir."

"Lucius is a disgrace to his family. He is unfaithful to his lord and now he managed to lose his wife and his money. There will be no room in my ranks for a man like him."

"How right you are my lord. He deserves every punishment you bestow upon him."

"Yes. He does. But so does every single one of my servants. Now, tell me more about this tournament."

The wind was cold against his face, but he didn't mind. He didn't notice the others next to him and the ground beneath, simply revelling in the feeling of being in the air again. The two boys who were accompanying him had fallen behind by now, however only slightly. They, too, enjoyed the fresh air, the speed and excitement of being up here, but they would never be like him. "He flies like a bloody Veela", the older of the boys commented, slowly taking the speed of his broom.

"Have you ever seen a Veela on a broom?" Both of them laughed slightly and admiringly as they watched him turn around once before continuing his flight, without ever taking of speed.

"Fairly, my title should be his."

"Maybe- but you know that he doesn't want the attention. Besides, it is safer for everyone this way."

"You are right of course, my friend. We should return to the castle, though now. It is getting late and the headmaster will disapprove if we don't appear."

"Oh, please. You two are his golden boys; he would never dare you."

"He doesn't dare criticize you either."

"He's only afraid of my mother. But we really should get back. Oi, mate, get back here to us mortal people."

The boy in the front continued filing for several minutes before suddenly changing directions and flying after the others, who had already begun to fly backwards towards the castle. The three of them made one last circle above the castle. It wasn't the first time Harry had seen the castle, after all, he had spent the last years here, but it was still impressive every time. He had seen pictures of the other wizarding schools, and while they might be larger or beautiful, in his eyes none of them were as magnificent as Durmstrang was.

He began his ascent towards the ground, his eyes wandering over the countryside. Here, you could feel the pure magical power of the region. It was there, all around them, pulsating of the castle, of the cliffs and rocks. He landed in front of the small broomshed on the side, the others right behind them. They had been flying for ours through the Swiss countryside, high mountains, glaciers with snow and green meadows barely visible from their height. They are still high, for at three thousand metres, Durmstrang is one of the highest places in the countries, though not on the lists the Muggles made. After all, they didn't know about the castle, well-hidden in a valley. He could hear the voice of Professor Sangre, his teacher for Magical history.

"Durmstrang was founded in 1308 by a group of wizards who wanted to escape the confines of magic practised at the other large magical schools in the country. They chose this place for its power and because it was a safe region, easy enough to defend. A lot of wizards had left Switzerland not long before, and only a few had stayed behind. Therefore, they could create their own region of influence without worrying about others."

He put his broom away, carefully storing the Nimbus. It had been a present from his mother when they had left for Hogwarts. Draco had received a similar model. Narcissa, a passionate flyer herself had always encouraged them to fly. For Harry, flying was everything. Up high in the air, he could forget his other problems.

"He will come back, Harry. There's nothing that can be done to prevent it. And whether you want it or not, fighting him is your destiny."

Yes, the Dark Lord would return, and he would have to make his choice, between war and peace. And there was something, or rather someone else he could forget up in the air, though only for a little bit. Her. The girl whose life had saved and whom he couldn't forget. She was with him, every moment of the day and sever minute of the night. She was there in his dreams, speaking so that he could never hear her.

The three chairs next to the fireplace were empty. The first-years who approached them smiled happily at their fate and were already looking forward to the warm seats. There were three boys, and all of them had only been here for a couple of days. The others close to them raised their eyebrows and made snide remarks to their neighbours. The first-years were obviously very foolish. A girl sitting at a table close by took pity on them. "I wouldn't sit there, if I were you. These seats are…reserved."

It would have been prudent to listen to her, but Anton Dolohov, Marius McNair and Abraxas Malfoy were their father's sons. And their fathers were all arrogant enough to see themselves and their families above everyone else. So, of course they didn't follow her suggestion to move away. Instead, Abraxas gave her an arrogant sneer. "Who are you that you dare speak to us like that?" His father had told him that Slytherin house would lie to his feet, and so far, things hadn't worked out as well as he had expected. While his fellow first-years seemed to fear and respect him quiet nicely, he had only earned laughter and ignorance from the other house members.

Like them, the girl just shook her head and returned to her Charms essay. If they wanted to be stupid, it was their own fault, he decided. Neither of the boys noticed the triad approaching the table.

However, the others certainly did. It was hard to miss them. Two girls, one boy were moving towards the chairs. No arrogance was visible in their moves or faces, and yet, they had the respect and devotion of their house. They moved quickly, gracefully and in sync with each other. A black-haired girl was in the front, a brown-haired boy next to her. The girl walking behind them seemed more like a shadow and they all knew that she probably wouldn't speak throughout the whole exchange.

Still, it was hard not to notice her with her brilliant red hair and her whole posture. While the house respected all three of them, she was their leader. They admired her because they had not broken her. And because she had survived much worse than any of them. They had heard rumours and truth about her first-year, and it was sure that she had returned from the Chamber of Secrets. She had refused to tell anyone what had happened, and no one would have dared to insist she tell. Three things counted in Slytherin house: blood status, connections and survival, wit and cunning. She was a pure-blood, and though the Weasleys weren't much respected anymore, they still belonged to the old families. And her friendship with the Greengrass heiress, Astoria, and the Nott heir had done the rest. In a harsh and quiet way, she had begun to change Slytherin house as they assembled behind her. Obviously, the first-years didn't know the rules yet.

"I think you're in the wrong seats, boys", Nott remarked coldly.

Abraxas looked up, staring back. "I don't think so."

"You wouldn't." He bent down. "But you see, boy, these are our seats."

"Well, not any longer. My name is Abraxas Malfoy and my father will hear about your behaviour."

Astoria very nearly laughed. "Oh, you're that one."

He smiled and nodded arrogantly. The foolish bint had understood who he was. She would move now. He was not prepared for what she said next. "Lucius Malfoy's son- the one born six months after the wedding." There was laughter throughout the listening Common Room. Lucius Malfoy remarried after his wife left him, Priscilla Parkinson, aunt to Pansy Parkinson. It was not exactly and advantageous marriage on his part. Than again, the rumours said that Narcissa Black had only married him because her parents wanted her married of before she, too, ran away to elope or join the Dark Lord's ranks. The Malfoys couldn't hold a candle to the Black family.

None of them saw how pale the redhead had gone. "Malfoy." She whispered quietly and anyone looking closely enough would have seen the shadows in her eyes. She was still haunted.

"Well, let me introduce ourselves. Astoria Greengrass, Theodore Nott and Ginevra Weasley." The blond boy gulped slightly. The names were well-known, and he wasn't that stupid. The Greengrasses were one of the oldest wizarding families, as where the Notts. And while the Weasleys were Gryffindor blood-traitors, they were still quite an old family, older than the Malfoys and Parkinsons, in any case. "Move", the Greengrass girl told him calmly. Next to him, he saw McNair and Dolohov scamper of. He was a Slytherin, and running was definitely wiser at this point. Nott was playing around with his wand. So, Abraxas took the way of the wiser and disappeared into the crowd.

He stopped at the far end of the Common Room and watched them, the redhead is pale, and her complexion seems almost ghostly in the flickering light of the fire. The others two were talking, and he saw them throw her worried looks from time to time. He didn't notice the girl approaching his side. She was a fifth-year, and quite pretty, with brown hair and blue eyes. After a moment, he recognised her as the girl who told them to move. "You don't know, do you?" she said.

He looked at her. "What exactly am I supposed to know?"

"No older siblings, huh. Well, none here at least. And no one knows where your brother is. She's my sister, you know." She pointed towards the black-haired girl. "We were close when we were kids." He looked at her, and he sensed that there was more to the story than she was telling him. He might be arrogant and conceited, but he wasn't stupid. She chose one of the chairs next to them. "Sit down, Abraxas Malfoy, son of Lucius and Priscilla Malfoy and I shall tell you their story."