Ok, I should explain. College. There done. That's why I havent updated for an age.

I should also explain something else. Why Pansy Parkinson was originally a shitty character in the first chapter. It's because when she was explained Draco hated everyone. Since it was through his POV it would make sense that he would describe her the way he/the narrator did. SO TAKE THAT. Pansy is clever, and plays an important role in Draco's newly found sanity. She's not in love with Draco, but indeed loves him enough to jump through hoops to help him. She's one of my favorite characters in the story right now. So she's actually cool. There.

Love you all, please review because it just just preforms alchemy on my heart, turns it into gold, whereby I have a heart of gold. And then i feel like updating. And you like that.

Here we go DraGin, here we go!

Scenes from Last:

I just hope the bait laid in my response note worked.

Bugger all, this is bad. He moved his pawn, and I did mine. Now it's his move.

I've always been batshit terrible at chess.

Uh oh.

Wish me luck!

Beloved Diary,

I have lost.

My cute idea of getting Draco Malfoy, I repeat, DRACO MALFOY, to chase me has blown up in my face in the most passive, terrible way. No, there were no explosions or yelling or fighting about it between anyone. It was just a quiet failure.

He never responded to my note.

This, the 3rd week after sending the note, is when I am finally able to admit my complete and utter failure of seduction.

What's more, according to Mel, information-gatherer extraordinaire, he has had flings with Daphne Greengrass of Slytherin, Nella Tracy, Morrigan Clemens and Susan Raderstrong of Ravenclaw, and MADAME ROSMERTA.

I lose. Not only are all those girls hella pretty, he had to shag the object of most boys' lust, Madame Rosmerta.

I should just die here and now.

But then again... fuck that bloody twat-faced prick. He just goes for easy sluts. No skill involved, just a royal summons.

I'm not a mistress. I'm a bloody fucking princess. I will not be summoned like some whore. My men will come to me, thankyouverymuch.

I'm mad, yeah... but I'm also sad. I don't know why.

Am I not good enough? According to well-placed sources in the male population, I'm ranked up there with Pansy Parkinson and Nella Tracy. Both apparently have been successful conquests of Malfoy.

But I guess it's hard to see past my sea of brothers and my blatant Gryffindor... ness. And I'm a ginger, so that... And some people don't like freckles even though I only have a bit... And I'm short, I suppose.

Dear Merlin, I hate this. I don't like feeling this badly about myself, but I can't help it. There must be a reason, and it's one of the above.

Of course, I can't possibly admit any of these self-esteem issues with Mel. She'll just say, 'You're hot, Ginny, stop talking yourself down' and change the subject. She doesn't like to talk about her emotions, or really, quite frankly, hear deep ones of another.

That's not to say we aren't best friends, or that our relationship is bad. That is just who she is, and this is who I am.

But sometimes I don't even know if she realizes the extent of my self esteem problems. Fiery strength up front is nothing when the inside feels cold.

I used to think that Malfoy was cold through and through. But not I'm realizing he's the opposite of me. Dark and cold on the outside with a budding warmth on the inside.

I used to have warmth all around.

I think I lost it when I dated Harry.

He never really complimented me, or cherished me, or anything boyfriends are supposed to do. The whole time, in retrospect, kinda seemed like he was doing me a favor by going out with me. As if I should thank him.

Well, shit.

Dammit Malfoy. What have you done to me? I'm toeing this slippery slope into depression because of you and your... everything. Why did I save you? It would have saved me loads of emotional stress if I would have just let you jump.

But I don't regret it.

I'M SO CONFUSED. I don't understand myself.

Oh yeah, and I haven't been asked to the dance. It seems like Harry is scaring people, despite the fact that he's going with Luna.

I miss Luna.

I see her in classes and such, but...

We just fell apart after the Harry Debacle.

This is bad, diary. I haven't been this down on myself since dad got attacked by that snake.

Then, at least Harry was there. Even though he was snogging Cho not a day before.

This isn't jealousy. This is just a fact.

What am I doing?

I just... I want out.

I want to kick off all this shit that binds me down to this depression. I don't even know what it all is. This war. Harry. 'Good' versus 'evil'. I don't get any of it anymore.

I just want to the power to protect people. Everyone.

I'm sorry.

No, I'm not.

I don't know.

I'm weak, really.

But maybe because I recognize that, I'm strong.

Doesn't make sense.

Things don't anymore.

I haven't written my feelings in a diary like this since... Tom. Voldemort.

Fuck it all.

Something's wrong with me.

I feel so dark.

No, this is NOT because Malfoy ignored me. This is not because of breaking up with Harry.

Being alone has allowed me to realize my own darkness. How it's always been there, just hidden under the questionable side of good I fight for.

WHAT AM I SAYING? Of course they're right! Killing muggles is wrong. I know that. Voldemort and what he stands for is evil.

But people under his banner might not be. They might be forced. They meaning Malfoy.

My logic doesn't make sense.

Something is wrong with me. I shouldn't feel sympathy and responsible for people who made that choice, for whatever reason.

Just... just don't listen to me. I don't know what I'm talking about.

Fuck this.

I hate how these entries always start off light and fluffy and end with... deep shit.

Stupid stupid stupid.

"Draco..."

The darkness was almost absolute. All he could see of his partner was her silhouette, a touch blacker than the shadowy surroundings. Draco didn't really even care where he was. 5th floor behind the portrait of Wily Waderstrong? 3rd floor at the bottom of the secret stairs?

He was actually mixing up his midnight romps. Who even was this?

Whoever she was, she approached him slowly, coming close enough for Draco to smell her perfume. It was sickly sweet, like too ripe strawberries. He wasn't one for sweet things, but he endured.

"Come 'ere, love." Draco purred, leaning back against the cold wall. His eyes were adjusting now, and he could begin to see her features. Her blonde hair, for instance.

Blonde... Vinora Henry. Hufflepuff. 6th year. She leaned in closer, but not enough to touch. Her warmth was tangible... the warm contact reminded him closeness of having two people on one broom...

Unwarranted thoughts of Ginevra Weasley shot through his mind with the power of a train. Her smile, her glow, her warmth. He wanted it again. To embrace it. To forever hold the light of the one person who claimed she saw it in himself. But he had to wait. To drag out the game. Or did he? The confusion sent a shot of anger through him.

With a growl he pushed away the Hufflepuff slut he picked up, shoving her back. Draco was breathing heavily, his anger and frustration clear even in the dim light. Vinora backed again, terrified. She had her hands raised in front of her chest, trying to put a wall between them. She, or anyone, rather, hadn't seen him look so mutinous before.

"Draco... what-"

"Get the fuck out of here." He breathed, pushing himself off the wall, exposing his full and intimidating height.

Without anything but a squeak of assent, she fled for the door, and it was only until it shut and he heard her run back down the hall did he let out his breath.

"What's wrong with me?" He asked himself, falling back onto the wall again. He slid to the ground, hugging his knees. His rage was simmering down into self-loathing.

He wanted Ginny so badly, it hurt sometimes. Unexplainable though it was, he couldn't get her off his mind, even after 3 and a half weeks of ignoring her.

But he had to ignore her. There was no way he could shag around with her. It would get back to Potter which would then add a bloody ton of stress to his already loaded plate. Not that he shied away from any confrontation with the arrogant scar-head, but right now... just wasn't a good time.

And yet, instead of figuring out any possible way to get out of Voldemort's web, he had spent the last 3 weeks coveting the redhead. It was as if one go with her would mysteriously solve all his problems. And then he could feel her warmth again, find his own light that she saw...

On thinking this, Draco slapped himself. The sound echoed around the walls, but he didn't care about anybody hearing. No, he was instead filled with that same self-loathing. The fear of this game they were playing.

The idea that she might be able to save him.

The thought that he wanted her to.

It was official. Blaise and Pansy were going to the ball together. Lovely. Not because they liked each other, it was just because it was easiest that way. And hell, no one on earth could say they were an ugly couple.

This left Draco... well...

"Draco. Get a date." Pansy muttered, laying on her back on one of the leather couches in the Slytherin common room.

"Pansy. Get a life." Draco retaliated, in the same position she was, only on an adjacent couch.

Blaise, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against the front of the couch Draco lay on, laughed. "Drakie's got you there. Shouldn't you be figuring out your dress or some girly shit?"

She scoffed. "I already know, prick. Our color is deep, royal purple. My dress is slinky, haltered, with an open back. You are going white shirt, black dress robe, deep purple skinny—I cannot stress this enough, SKINNY—tie. My dress'll match the tie. I'm wearing black pumps. Done."

That silenced the two boys. She said that completely nonstop. Gotta love Pansy and her unbeatable knowledge of fashion and everything girly ever.

"And masks?" Draco asked, remembering it was a masquerade.

"Simple and black. No need to futz with decorations when you look good anyway. We're doing the 'simple, but you couldn't look this good no matter how hard you tried' thing we always do."

Pansy: 2, Boys: 0.

"Well since Pansy, you won that round, I guess I'll hear your date nonsense." Draco muttered, raising one of his arms straight up in the air for no apparent purpose.

Pansy scoffed. "I have nothing to say but, 'get a date'. Going stag is for pansies."

"Your name is Pansy." Blaise muttered, trying to keep a straight face.

"Yeah, and Blaise is always blazed. Hilarious." Pansy shot back before redirecting her attention to Draco. She was on fire today. "Isn't there a girl you want to ask?"

Yes. "No."

"Is there any girl in particular you want to shag?"

Yes. "No."

"Will you go for anyone younger maybe?" Blaise muttered, his tone haughty. He did know about Ginny, after all.

Draco pinched Blaise in the neck. "I don't care. Can't you just find me a date?"

His question was directed at Pansy, who sat up and began to fix her hair. "Well, the last person I set you up with got screamed at for no apparent reason last week."

Ah, yes. Vinora Henry. Draco did feel a little bad about that one.

"Better question." Blaise said, stretching his arms up. "What attractive girl doesn't have a date yet?"

"Hell if I know about some less popular people... but... Nella Tracy, Jennifer Lawrence, Gwen Holland, and Selma Smith don't have dates. Oh, and Ginny Weasley and her friend Melanie Meadows don't yet have dates, but I know of someone asking. And then-" Pansy said lightly, counting them off her fingers.

Draco bolted upright and turned his head to look at Pansy. "Who!"

Knowing the full situation, Blaise started to chuckle, but Pansy looked at Draco oddly. "Who, what?"

"Which one?" If only he could see how cute he was right now. Obviously flustered because some other arse was trying to get with his... er, not his, but that girl.

"Which one? Er, Sebastian Michaels."

He was one hair short of losing his mind. "No, which girl Pansy!"

"Meadows. What has gotten into you, Draco? You're acting like..." Pansy asked, but then narrowed her eyes. She had seen Draco breathe a sigh of relief when she declared the name. She looked between Blaise laughing on the floor to Draco trying to cover up his obviousness and sighed. "Why didn't either of you tell me that Draco wants the Weasley girl?"

Win. Draco looked away and Blaise whooped in victory. She shook her head, muttering, "I don't care who, as long as it's someone. Weasley's actually..."

At the speed of light, Blaise and Draco turned their heads to face Pansy, their eyes wide. She noticed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

They sheepishly looked away. Blaise was the first to respond. "Pansy... you've never complimented another girl before... ever."

Pansy froze. She indeed was about to more-or-less compliment her. "Get off it. It doesn't matter. What matters is shaking this dreary school up a bit."

This stole Draco's attention from the portrait door and back to her. "What do you mean?" She couldn't possibly be insinuating-

"Nothing." Pansy smiled, shrugging. She got up, dusted off her skirt, and began to walk towards her dorm. "Just food for thought."

When they heard the door close, Draco fell back onto the couch. His stomach gave a painful spike.

"Speaking of food..."

Blaise smiled brightly, standing up. "Lunchtime. Time to stalk Ginny Weasley."

"Eh?"

"Ok let's think about this..." Mel started, putting her palms on her temples, her elbows on the Gryffindor table.

"Nothing to think about." Ginny growled. She tapped her pale blue nails on the table cloth irritatedly.

The topic, of course, was the ball. What else?

"There's Roger Cliff. He's not bad."

The redhead scoffed. "He has a pig nose."

"Satchel McCall?"

"Going with that Heda girl. He asked today." Ginny sighed, changing her position angrily. She was now leaning on the table, head in her arms. "I already told you, I'm not going. I'll go to Hogsmeade instead, catch a floo to some pub in London, and party until the inferno comes. I'm not going to the dance."

Something went off in Mel. She lowered her face so her bangs covered her eyes. "I don't have a date either, princess. It's not the bloody end of the world."

Dangerous waters.

"I don't want to go. You do. Principal difference." Ginny covered, not wanting to alienate her friend at this time. Not now, when she was the most alone she had ever been.

Cue worst thing ever. She accidentally caught the eye of Blaise at the Slytherin table. Ginny buried her face in her arms further.

Mel sighed, staring mutinously at her best friend. As she moved to pick up her bag, the hall was suddenly graced with beautiful chirping noises and the soft flapping of wings. She and everyone else in the hall, including the sullen Ginny, looked at the phenomenon.

There was a flock of white birds that suddenly entered the hall, soaring beautifully in formation. This was another engagement for the ball. Someone was being asked. As opposed to the Yule Ball 3 years prior, this time around people were asking each other with pizazz. It was always exciting. The best one thus far was definitely Satchel McCall asking Heda Hockshire this morning.

He arranged for one of his friends to kidnap her, dressed as a flamboyant villain. The villain would carry the "caught" princess with him with various traps and trials for a knight in shining armor, Satchel McCall in disguise, to fight for her. First stage he found off a suit of armor, then chased the villain in an epic broom race around the grounds. Heda was laughing the whole time, watching the severely dramatized fights and medieval speech.

The last task was to defeat the evil wizard in a magic duel, clearly choreographed. Once he won, he threw off his helm and dropped to one knee, asking her to the ball.

Epic win.

The whole hall was excited at this new way of asking, stemming from the clearly summoned birds and their trails of sparkles.

Then Sebastian Michaels walked through the doors, letting more of the pretty birds in. He raised his wand and waved it in an intricate motion, causing the birds to fly towards the Gryffindor table.

Ginny's heart leaped for a second. What if he was asking her? Sebastian Michaels was a handsome Ravenclaw in their year. Very smart, very talented, and the type that settled down with girls. Not that Ginny needed that right now, but still!

Mel, who was standing now, watching the birds interestedly, began to walk down the isle heading for the door. Sebastian smiled and walked down the same isle, directing the birds with his wand. Ginny knew then, it wasn't her. She couldn't help feel down, despite how unlikely it was that he was asking her. It wasn't her, it was Mel.

The clueless girl just walked swiftly heading for the door, assuming it was for someone else. The birds were flying in a large circle around the area now, slowly getting smaller around Sebastian and Mel. She still didn't notice.

Honestly, she put her head down as not to draw attention to the display. What a dork.

She literally walked past Sebastian, who reached to grab her wrist lightly, slight confusion on his cute face. Mel was turned around, her one hand now clasped in both of his. The hall was silent at this. It was really sweet.

Smiling with a hint of blush, Sebastian dropped to his knees in front of her, still holding her hand. Despite Ginny's jealousy, she couldn't help but smile at the stupid look on her friend's face.

"Fancy a date to the dance, love?" He asked, the blush still evident. It was almost too cute.

Suddenly struck with a severe blush, Mel couldn't speak. She just nodded twice before smiling wide and nodding about 80 times more. The hall erupted in cheers as he stood and said something else.

Apparently what he said pleased Mel, because she smiled brightly and looked back to Ginny for a moment before motioning leaving with him. Ginny just smiled warmly and nodded. Such was their friendship.

Sebastian put his hand on her back as they began to walk out of the hall. Pretty gutsy move.

The hall soon quietened as they left, though there was a lingering feeling of love in the air. Girls were giggling and swooning at the cuteness, boys were nodding appreciatively, and Ginny felt like she wanted to vomit.

Ginny hated feeling jealous of her friend, and she hated not being able to help it. Everyone has their sin, and hers was envy.

So the mentally messed princess hid her face in her arms again, trying to think about anything but what just happened.

"Michaels was good." Blaise muttered appreciatively with a nod. "But look at Weasley now. If this was any other girl, now would be the time to strike, mate."

Draco's face darkened at the ringing truth of his words. He chanced a glance at Ginny, who's hunched-over form simply radiated depression.

"Did you happen to overhear Meadows and Weasley's conversation before Michael asked?" Blaise muttered as if it was nothing.

Draco turned to his friend in apprehension. "No... did you...? Oh." It was then that he finally noticed the disillusioned extendable ear. His sharp eyes followed the distorted, chameleon-like cord to where it snaked along the edge of the wall, heading towards where the girls were.

"You snake." Draco smirked, shaking his head in mirth.

"Truer words were never spoken. But Little Weasley doesn't want to go to the ball. She plans on flooing to a pub in London and getting trashed instead. Good girl."

"Why are we listening in on her conversations, again?" Draco asked, wanting to be anywhere but here. "This is a load of bull."

He just really wanted to leave. Deciding to beg the house elves of food from the kitchens, he got up, pulled the Extendable from Blaise's ear forcefully and strode away despite his friend's protests.

"Oi! Where are you going?" Blaise called, rubbing his ear.

"Somewhere else." Draco dismissed with a half-assed wave of his hand.

As he neared the door, he couldn't help stealing his daily glance at Ginny and found, to his utter horror, that she was in a parallel row right at the door. They were about 10 feet away from each other, but she had yet to notice him.

It was simply terrible. Draco just froze, making for her to leave first. This plan, while strategic as it was, did not take into account a) sense, and b) manners.

Ginny, though she kept her eyes on her feet, sensed a person – Draco – behind her and in keeping with good manners went through and held the door open for him. Not knowing it was him, of course. The second or so before Ginny looked back at the person she was holding the door for was like an arduous countdown. As if you knew the moment of your death was but a second away. Dramatic, yes, but that's Draco Malfoy for you.

He held his breath when their eyes met. It was almost worth it for the look on her face. At first her hazel eyes widened cutely, then they sunk into a strange deep terror. Her breath was caught in her chest like his was.

"Thanks." Draco made out with difficulty. It seemed like his throat was sealed. Ginny said nothing, just holding the heavy door open with one arm. After a while she nodded but didn't move an inch. Neither seemed to want to move and were caught staring at each other.

She looks sick. He thought, taking note of her slightly sunken eyes, limp hair, and overall deterioration of posture. Then again... I look the same.

Ginny seemed to have the same thought. "You look sick." She said sweetly before regaining that look of horror from before. "Sorry, um, I mean, hi...?"

In any other situation, it would have been cute as a button. Hell, it still was a little cute. Her observation came out before a formal hello. Because of it, Draco laughed a little. "You do too. I mean, hi."

The joke seemed to break the tension slightly. Maybe break wasn't the best word. More like crack.

It was then apparent to both of them that there were two people who wanted to get out of the hall behind them. Ginny jumped and walked through the door, holding it out for Draco, who bolted out of there.

Now in the entrance hall, awkwardness resumed full force. Ginny pretended to be looking for something in her bag while Draco smoothed out his shirt. Strangely, both had forgotten their destinations in the flurry of emotions.

In the period of strange limbo, both came to a chilling realization. We affect each other in the same way. A way that was more than just lust. And it was almost too nonsensical to comprehend. There was something very small, yet very potent between them. Harry'd be mega pissed.

They were not comfortable around each other, but something inexplicable drew them together. And it seemed that the more they skirted around it, the greater toll it took on their wellness. It was almost painful. Their game was destroying them both, their feelings so raw and foreign that it seemed unnatural. It was the bond formed when one wizard saved another's life. But the circumstances were strange, and the magic was thus different.

Thankfully, they were by a corner, attracting little-to-no attention.

The first one to speak, after a good minute, was Draco.

Ladies and gentlemen, Draco Malfoy will now introduce you to the concept of Word Vomit:

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?"