the descent

"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step."

Lao Tzu

The next summer began with murmurs of the first ever escape from Azkaban.

Sirius Black, what a name. It just screams criminal, does it not? Well, there's your verdict- there's no innocent man who'd ever try to escape the law, is there? Merlin, it's time to start keeping the kids indoors!

It was hilarious, really, how everybody was acting as if Tom himself had come back. It was also stupid. I, of course, was as shielded as possible from all of it. Not that it stopped me.

My family seemed to forget that I had other older brothers besides Ron and Percy. Contrary to popular belief, the twins had already began developing Extendable Ears by that time. Well, they were perfecting the art of eavesdropping, anyway.

Observation is an extremely useful teacher.

And I also didn't exactly shut my brain off when nobody was talking to me, you know. I think Mum used to think that. Despite everything that happened the year before, she still saw me in the same light. Stupid little Ginny.

Dad was a whole different matter. I may have been his baby girl, but he was probably the only one who had ever shown any kind of actual respect for Auntie Muriel's words (excluding, of course, Mum's "She is your Auntie Muriel, my aunt, and- no matter what she may say or dress like, Fred and George- you will treat her with respect!"). He saw me as more than the baby of the family, and always had this twinkle in his eye when he looked at me- kind of like Dumbledore.

I knew he knew that I heard everything, that I listened, and that I plotted.

He didn't care.

What exactly did I plot? Well, that's a very complex subject. I didn't intentionally plot anything. I subconsciously knew I was going to do whatever possible to be a part of this fight. This was my world Tom was terrorizing after all, wasn't it?

But after Harry came, and I found out (eavesdropping, of course) that it was him Sirius Black was after, I learned quickly that the choice was made for me.

And not the way you might think.

Because, you see, at Hogwarts, I was extremely immersed with the beauty of the grounds, now knowing that I wasn't going around killing Hagrid's chickens.

And there I met a giant black dog, who soon became my closest companion.

For example...

"It's downright rude! I hate it!"

The giant dog looked up from where he was lazily playing around with a bunch of berries and glared at me with what could be easily interpreted as exasperation.

I decided to interpret it as an indication to go on.

"Ron specifically told me to butt out. And Harry and Hermione don't even bother to hear it! If they sometimes do, though, it's just one scandalized 'Honestly, Ron!' from Hermione and then nothing!"

We're sitting dangerously close to the Forbidden Forest while I'm ranting while trying to keep up the pretense of studying with books on my lap.

"And, really, what can I do? It's hardly like I can go up to him and say, 'I hate this, Ron. I don't like being pushed off as nothing more than your baby sister. I want the world, and our family, for that matter, to see me as more than simply an admirer of the Golden Trio,' now can I?"

The black dog shook his shaggy fur out of his eyes and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I completely agree - you're right. He's got no right to continue this. Really, though. What is he thinking?"

The dog glared at me.

When I wasn't playing with my dear doggy friend, I was sitting around the grounds, drawing in a little sketchbook I had found in a pile of Percy's books that summer. I also spent a great deal of time... um... well... drawing rather close to where Harry and Professor Lupin met a number of times throughout the year. Their meetings were nothing if not interesting and educational. Yes, that's it. Also, I was rather fond of Professor Lupin. He was a much better teacher than Lockhart, and, to be honest, many of the teachers at the school. I didn't actually go up and talk to him besides classes because I can be shy often - and I'm not exactly the type of person who likes to be the center of attention.

However, there was one person this rule did not apply to at all - Draco Malfoy.

I hid inside Greenhouse Number Three, waiting for the third years to walk by up to the castle. Finally, the sounds of laughter and just plain rowdiness reached my ears, alerting me to the fact that they were indeed now coming. I waited a few moments, listening to the sound of rain pattering on the window next to me, knowing that the one person I was searching for lingered on behind them all.

Right when I could tell the moment was right, I reached an arm out and yanked on the robes belonging to a certain pale and fair-haired, drenched boy.

He stumbled into the darkness and crashed into the wall next to me. Instead of looking affronted like I'd expected (well, hoped) him to, he straightened his corner and glared. Damn, could that boy glare!

His molten silver eyes seemed to burn a hole straight through you, and I had almost zero doubt that he was trying to accomplish the yet impossible feat of setting fire to someone with a look. He was going to have to find a weaker test subject, although there was no small quantity of them.

"Draco." I whispered first, letting his name hang in the air, since it seemed he had no wish to break his focus on setting me aflame.

"What do you want, Weasley? Today's not a day I usually donate to charity, you know. Maybe try tomorrow." He sneered, but I could see a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes - something that I only saw when he looked at me.

Draco Malfoy may have gone out of his way to trouble each and every one of my brothers, even going far enough to sometimes insult Fred and George (brave, eh?). But when it came to her, his eyes seemed to pass over her form. He never mentioned, never acknowledged her in any way - Not when he was insulting her brothers and not when he was passing by her.

Oh, well, there was one exception - last year's Valentine's Day. But I believed the only reason he did that was because it targeted Harry.

I stared at him, and I was sure I was unnerving him a little. To his credit, he remained completely passive, not breaking my gaze.

Slowly, gently, almost unconsciously, I brought up my hand - the same one that had pulled him in and disrupted his path so - and caressed his pale, cold face, and I dared to lean in closer to him, feeling his cool and calm surround me.

"Draco, don't stupid. I'm not making you give up something. I just wanted to see what this all means."

I wanted him so desperately to see that he was the one person who I believed understood what it was like to be on the outside looking in. Being with me, as aquaintances or friends or anything more, didn't mean he had to change himself or give up his family or his virtues or his beliefs. I had no problem being a dirty little secret. None at all, because, after all, that's what everything was with me - not just him.

And you know something? His eyes glistened with a little more of that something, and he completed what I'd started, leaned down just a little, and pressed his wet, cool lips to mine.

And the thunderstorm raged on outside our little world.