Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry for the long wait! I clearly lied about updating once a week! Forgive me, o wonderful readers! I've been doing my A levels and have had no time at all. But now I am back!

Apologies, because I was in such a rush to get this chapter out that it has not been beta'd; I hope that Jen-Bo will do it for me later and I'll just replace this chapter. I hope it's OK, beause I was in a bit of a whimsical mood when I wrote this, and I'm getting a tad bored of this fic. But anyway. On with the story!

-----------------------------------------------

Chaos of thought and passion, all confused;

Still by humself abused and disabused;

Created half to rise, and half to fall;

Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;

Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled;

The glory, jest and riddle of the world!

- from Alexander Pope's 'Essay on Man'

-------------------------------------------

My dearest Draco,

I am concerned for you, my darling. It has come to my attention - our attention, I should say - that there is something amiss at Hogwarts. Why didn't you write to tell me of your Quidditch accident? You know I worry about you. And what is this about involvement with the Weasley girl? I hope you haven't formed an attachment to her. It could ruin all of your chances, and I warn you, Draco, I won't let that happen.

Don't think that just because your father is imprisoned, that he has ceased to care for you. He does, more than ever - as I do. Neither should you think him deaf and blind to the outside world; the security at Azkaban is a joke without the Dementors. Anything you have heard to the contrary is simply the mendacious propaganda of the Ministry, and I hope I have raised you better than to believe it. We are both concerned about you, dearest, and the reports from school have been strange indeed.

Whatever your involvement with the Weasley girl - and really, I hope for your sake that it is nothing - it must end, and quickly. The Dark Lord has plans for you, you know that! With your father incapacitated, we are all relying on you. Severus has his eye on you of course. Go to him if you have any problems, anything at all. And in the name of the Dark Lord, please contact me! Have pity on your poor mother. It cannot harm you to write to me every now and again.

Please reply with alacrity; there are others within our circle who question your loyalty, Draco. Give me the assurance to quell their suspicions. I know in my heart that you will succeed everywhere that your father has failed. Your aunt Bellatrix sends her regards - and her warning.

With all my enduring love,

Your Mother, Narcissa Malfoy

S.W.A.L.K.

Draco stared at the creamy parchment in his hand, emblazoned with the Malfoy crest. Three letters smouldered red in the top corner - B.A.R. He crumpled the letter and threw it angrily into the fireplace.

Moodily sinking back into his chair, he watched as the fire devoured the paper. The edges blackened and smoked, and the wad crumpled into itself until nothing was left but a fine grey ash.

Brows drawn in a deep frown, he contemplated his mother's words. He was too deep in thought to notice when Blaise quietly drew up a chair beside him.

"A letter from your mother?" It was more a statement of fact than a question.

Draco started. "Yes."

His friend smiled coldly. "May I enquire as to the contents?"

Draco shot him a look.

"Ah. I must therefore guess." Less a smile than a baring of white teeth, Blaise's look was predatory, his words damning. "Concerns over the Wesaley affair?"

"It is not an affair."

Blaise shrugged. "Call it what you will. It changes nothing."

Draco glared at his friend. "You're right, it doesn't matter, because it's over. It was nothing in the first place."

"You can keep on telling yourself that, my friend, but it doesn't make it true."

Draco said nothing.

"You've been seeing her, haven't you?"

"No!" he fiercely denied it, but could not meet Blaise's eyes.

The dark boy's lip curled in disdain. "After all we said! After all you said. So much for the purity of blood. So much for loyalty to the cause!"

Draco jumped out of his seat, his eyes flashing silver fire. "I am loyal to the cause!" he hissed. "Never question my loyalty, Zabini!"

"Then why, Draco?" his softened voice reassured Draco enough to settle himself down again.

"It was that Quidditch accident," he said finally. "I'm afraid I lied to you, Blaise. The spell - curse, really - it sort of linked us. It hurts to be physically apart. But I'm fighting it, I swear!"

"A curse?" Blaise repeated blankly. "What kind of a curse?"

"No one really knows," Draco replied. "Not even Snape. I'm hoping it'll just sort of go away after a while." He cringed, awaiting his friend's reaction.

He was not disappointed. "It's a curse, Draco," Blaise said scornfully. "It's not going to just 'go away'."

Draco looked away. "It seems to be getting easier to ignore."

"Good. That may be all you can hope for. You should not see her again. You know how Narcissa worries about her precious blue-eyed boy…"

Draco laughed half-heartedly.

"And rumour has it Lucius is not best pleased with you as it is."

Draco's head snapped up. "Where did you hear that?"

Again, that snakelike smile. "I have my sources."

"Your mother." Draco's voice was flat.

"Please, Draco. My mother has been interested in little outside her dinner parties for years now, as you well know."

"Snape, then."

"Snape would never discuss you with me." A grudging admission.

"Merlin's beard, then who? I will not be fooled around, Blaise. Tell me what you've heard!"

"You look so much like your father when you get angry."

"I am nothing like my father!"

"Then prove it and calm down! Merlin, Draco, you never used to lise it so quickly. Your mother told me, as it happens."

"Since when have you been a correspondent of my mother's?"

"Since you started hanging round with muggle-lovers and filth." Blaise's eyes were cold.

"I will thank you not to discuss my private life with anyone, Zabini," stated Draco, equally cold. "Not even my mother. The Weasley problem is my problem and I will deal with it. In my own time, and on my terms."

"Well, you know your business better than anyone, Draco. And I sincerely hope you're right. For your sake."

------------------------------------------------

Ginny squirmed in her chair, trying not to meet Dean's eye.

They were seated together near the fire, in the otherwise deserted Gryffindor Common Room.

Ginny felt guilty about last night with Draco. She'd had a horrible dream about it; she'd been stuck in the middle of a path with three branches. In the middle of one branch was Dean, looking cheerful and holding out his hands to her. In the other was Draco, looking at Dean with hateur and at herself with unmistakable lust. In confusion she had run down the third path - only to find herself faced with a sheer cliff, and an unfathomable chasm..

Upon waking, her mind was made up. Dean had to go.

"Look, Dean," she began hesitantly, playing with a lock of her hair. "We need to talk."

"What is it, babe?" he asked, unconcernedly flicking through Quidditch Monthly.

"Idon'tthinkweshouldgooutanymore." The words came out in a rush.

Dean looked blank. Not for the first time, Ginny was annoyed by his apparent gormlessness.

"I don't think we should go out with each other anymore," she repeated in a more normal tone of voice. "It isn't working out for me. I think I need some space." She tried not to giggle at the flabbergasted look on her ex-boyfriend's face.

"What?"

"Do I really need to repeat myself?"

"But babe! We're good together, right? The chemistry, the Quidditch, the…" he trailed off at Ginny's look.

"Babe, maybe we could-"

Ginny shook her head gently. "No, Dean."

"But why, babe?"

"For one thing, you keep on calling me babe," she replied dryly. "But to be honest, I just don't think I need to be in a relationship at the moment. Especially not with you."

Unwilling to prolong such an uncomfortable conversation, she rose quickly. "I'm going to go and grab some lunch. Don't come with me."

Dean's mouth hung open as he watched her walk away. Then, to the amusement of a couple of fifth-years huddled in the corner, he dribbled.

-------------------------------------------------

Draco caressed the silky-smooth wood of his beloved Nimbus, smiling a little. The wind whipped at his robes as he forcefully kicked away and soared above the school. For a while he didn't think; he closed his mind to anything but the sheer joy of flight, the feel of the wind ruffling his hair and the winter sun warming his hair.

The Quidditch pitch was empty, and he rolled and pitched wildly, luxuriating in one of his only indulgences.

What am I going to do about Ginny? he wondered. Blaise was angry, his parents were angry…Every Slytherin part of him was screaming at him to walk away and never look at her again, except with disgust.

Yet somehow, that was impossible. His grip tightened on the broom as he though of the previous night.

He had kissed her.

He, Draco, Slytherin Prince and only Malfoy heir, had kissed a lowly Weasley. It beggared belief.

So why was he not disgusted, furious with himself? Because really all he felt was smug. She'd wanted him so badly..

Grinning to himself, he crouched down low over his broom and accelerated round the pitch.

---------------------------------------------------------

Harry and Ron were sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, discussing Quidditch, as usual, and cheerfully tossing peas at one another beneath the table.

When Ginny seated herself beside them, humming happily, they were both equally pleased to stop their-pea-fight and turn their attention to her, as a trouser full of peas is not the best sensation in the world.

"Why so cheerful, Gin?" asked Harry, shaking out his left leg. A shower of green hit the floor.

"I just dumped Dean," replied Ginny, tossing her hair behind her shoulder and reaching for a roll.

Ron choked on a mouthful of pumpkin juice.

"Cough up, chicken!" said Harry, thumping him forcefully on the back.

"You broke up with Dean?" spluttered Ron finally, freckled cheeks matching his blazing hair.

"Yes," said Ginny calmly. "Aren't you pleased? I didn't think you liked me going out with Dean."

"Dean's my mate!" replied Ron, outraged. "What did you go and dump him for? Is there someone else?"

Ginny glanced at him, vaguely annoyed. "Maybe," she said nebulously.

"I don't want everyone thinking my little sister is some kind of a whore!" yelled Ron. "You get a new boyfriend every couple of months! What was wrong with Dean?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Ronald," replied his sister icily. "Who I choose to go out with is my business, not yours. And if you're such a fan of Dean Thomas', why did you call him 'the sleaziest sleazeball who ever sleazed' last week?"

Ron purpled. "It was a joke!" His voice increase in volume. Several heads turned to look at them. "I didn't mean for you to go and break up with him, you foolish little girl!"

"Foolish little girl?" Ginny shrieked, her voice raising an octave. "How dare you patronise me like that! You've never even had a girlfriend, how dare you comment on my love life!"

"You should have talked to me first!" bellowed Ron.

"Consult you before breaking up with my boyfriend?" Ginny laughed derisively. "Give me some credit, Ron, I can think for myself!"

"Well, it doesn't look like it to me!" spat Ron furiously. "Dean deserves better than you!"

"Better than me!" Ginny was too busy being angry to concentrate on feeling hurt. "Better than your own sister?" She clenched her fists, trembling with rage.

Harry put a restraining hand on Ron's shoulder. "Take it easy, mate," he said nervously.

"Oh fine, Harry, take his side why don't you!" flared Ginny. "I might have known!" And with that she turned on her heel and stormed out of the all, pausing only to glare contemptuously over her shoulder at the two boys behind her.

------------------------------------------------------------

Draco sensed her before he saw her. At first he was only conscious of a rising ire, completely irrational. His fingers turned white as he clenched the handle of his broomstick before he realised that the rage was not his. It was Ginny's - and she was coming rapidly towards him.

He groaned out loud. The last thing he needed right now was an irate redhead looking for a fight - which she undoubtedly was.

Nevertheless, he circled slowly down to the ground to meet her. Her amber eyes burned with an inner fire and he suppressed a sigh, saying nothing as she climbed onto the broomstick behind him.

He kicked off slightly unsteadily, unused to the extra weight. The broom complained slightly at the passenger, refusing to accelerate into the sky with its usual alacrity.

What happened? he tacitly asked her.

Ron, she said, and he was shocked by the venom she poured into the word.

What did he do? Draco asked warily, conscious that he could be sticking his head into a beehive with that question.

Same as always. Trying to interfere with my life, she growled.

Draco tactfully kept silent.

The wind rushed past them, masking all sounds. Ginny tightened her grip on Draco's waist, burying her head into the soft material of his robes. She breathed deeply, welcoming that now familiar scent of spices and dragon hide.

I broke up with Dean, she ventured eventually.

Did you now? Draco tried not to sound smug.

Don't sound so smug, you Slytherin! It wasn't for your sake. You arrogant so and so.

The laughter in her 'voice' took the sting out of the words.

I've had a pretty rough time of it myself today, he admitted, idly flying around Gryffindor Tower.

Really? She leaned in closer.

Yeah…I got a letter from my mother.

Ginny felt all too clearly the confused welter of emotion hidden under that too-casual remark. At once her curiosity was peaked.

From your mother? she queried, trying to keep her tone relaxed. What was it about?

It was about you, actually.

Ginny was shocked. Me?

Draco chuckled mentally. She wanted to warn me off you.

Because I'm a Weasley?

Draco nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him. Yeah, then Blaise started laying into me as well. Reckon I've got to stop seeing you, or I'm really going to start ruffling some feathers, he said nonchalantly.

Ginny felt a cold stab of panic. He couldn't leave her now! Not when they were just getting to know each other! Unconsciously, she held him tighter still.

Much as I'm enjoying this, Weasley, I CAN'T BREATHE!

Ginny relaxed her grip. Sorry, she said sheepishly.

Don't worry about it. I can't leave you for too long anyway. The curse, remember?

Right. The Curse.

Plus, I'm starting to find you strangely attractive, Weaslette.

Ginny perked up. Really?

Draco couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. Yeah, because orange hair and freckles are so attractive.

It's auburn! Yelled Ginny defensively.

Whatever. It's an OK colour, replied Draco with feigned indifference.

Ginny flushed with pleasure. That was almost a compliment!

If you happen to like orange, continued Draco.

Ginny hit him.

Cow.

Prat. Let me down, I'm cold.

Ginny rubbed her bum. "Your broomstick isn't as comfy as mine," she complained. "My rear end hurts."

"You want me to massage it?" asked Draco enthusiastically.

Ginny sent him a level stare. "Are you sure you want to make that offer?"

"Uh, no, no, maybe not," said Draco hurriedly, looking away.

"Oh good. I am glad about that."

He shot a nervous glance over his shoulder as he stowed his Nimbus away. Why were girls in general - and redheads in particular - always so touchy? He shook his head. Maybe she wasn't worth the effort after all.

I heard that, Draco Malfoy! cam an indignant voice in his head.

He groaned, putting his head in his hands. Why me?

Unseen, in the Quidditch stnds on the other side of the pitch, Colin Creevey crept away, quietly to avoid notice. His hands clutched the camera round his neck tightly, as if it were something very precious, and his eyes were wide with shock.

----------------------------------------------------

Ginny swung her legs idly back and forth under the desk. "I don't know, Harry," she said contemplatively, looking the green-eyed hair before her. "At the end of the day I just thought - I don't even like him any more, why am I going out with him?"

He nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a pretty good reason to break up to me," he said. "Look, Gin, I'm sorry Ron was so hard on you earlier." He moved round to sit beside her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. "But he's been a moody pillock lately. He can't help it, he's worried about Quidditch. Again!"

Ginny put her head on Harry's shoulder with a sigh. "It's nice to know I can depend on you to be normal and nice to me, Harry," she said, dimpling.

Harry smiled down at her, reaching for her hand. "Well, you're like a sister to me Gin, really," he replied.

Neither of them noticed the shadowy figure crouching in the doorway. Romilda Vane fiddled with her dark plait, straining to hear them. She caught a few mumbled words - but she could see with burning clarity their tight embrace, the loving looks…

And as she turned away, her heart hardened with jealousy.

-----------------------------------------------------

Thank you, all you lovely people who have read this fic! Please try to find it in your hearts to leave a little review, too...

BTW - SWALK is an old British thing that people used to put on letters; it stands for 'sealed with a loving kiss'. Doesn't get used much anymore. BAR is, quite obviously 'burn after reading'.