Hi Skellyshook, thank you for leaving a review, as always. I was just teasing you about that, I'm sorry if I came across offended. I wasn't offended, really.

Hi Sakura Lisel, thank you for leaving a review. Yes, it was not Tristane's fault for what happened but sometimes people apologise even when they're not at fault, just to keep the peace. In this case, I believe Tristane apologised because she felt sorry for Hermione and that she felt that somehow she was in the middle of a lover's spat. It was just that Ron was suddenly being gentlemanly to this stranger just to get back at Hermione (most times, he would annoy her).

I hope you have a lovely weekend, everyone, and that you are still enjoying the story. Apologies in advance for any mistakes made.

JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter world.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Ginny was tossing and turning on her massive bed, wrestling with her seven pillows. Throughout the course of the night, most of the pillows somehow managed to get kicked out of the huge bed. Ginny could not sleep despite the comfort and a satisfied stomach. She was anxious and there were just too many things going on in her mind, mainly Tristane Black. Ginny was wrestling with herself, trying to figure out what to do. There were endless possibilities when it came to Tristane, and Ginny did not want to take any course of action that she would regret. As much as she craved and desired the Slytherin, there were two main things that held Ginny back from diving headlong: gender and Tristane's bloodline.

Ginny was uncertain whether her liking another witch was a 'phase', as what her mother would call it. Sex with Daphne was pleasant, and aside for the fact that Ginny had wished it was Tristane instead of Daphne, the redhead was not disgusted by the female anatomy. But was she disgusted with male anatomy? Ginny tried to remember the feeling she got making out with her ex-boyfriends. Some were sloppy, some were excellent, a few were boring, and others were interesting. Kissing Daphne reminded her of those times: it was quite nice, but there was not much excitement. Ginny was always left with a feeling of missing something, as if it was just not quite right. With Tristane, however, it was just perfect. It was indescribable, but Ginny knew she never wanted it to end. It was something she craved for, as if Tristane was a drug addiction that could not be cured. But how would Ginny explain it to her parents, to her family? Was she ready and prepared for the worst possibility? Was Ginny ready to face Tristane's family as well? While Narcissa was never a Death Eater, she surely had enough expertise in the dark side to be able to make life hell for the redhead if she wanted. Ginny remembered the Basilisk incident in her first year and did not want such a foul experience to happen ever again.

Ginny had very few information on Tristane's childhood and how she was reared. Was her father as knowledgeable as the average Black family member in regards to the dark side? If so, how much of it did he teach Tristane? For all Ginny knew, the Slytherin could be an excellent actress and was fooling everyone all along. But deep in her heart, Ginny was convinced that Tristane was not evil. Fleur repeatedly cautioned Ginny that there was a darkness coming from Tristane, but how could one such as Tristane who was pretty much useless with wands and barely had any magical knowledge be able to be Voldy No. 2? Regardless, a Black was still a Black. Even Sirius who spent all his life running amok as a Marauder, a Gryffindor, and went against everything his family stood for had a mean streak in him. Whether it was due to youthful folly or genetics, Ginny was not sure. Tristane seemed a risky venture.

And yet, Ginny could not help but be drawn to Tristane. The redhead was comfortable with Tristane. Ginny liked being around her. Ginny loved Tristane's lilac scent, calming her. Ginny felt refreshed with Tristane's pleasant attitude toward everyone regardless of background and status, something the redhead rarely saw in Hogwarts. Everybody was quick to judge, but slow to accept the fact that both sides, the light and the dark, were the same: segregating everyone. Even the Hufflepuffs, despite being famous for tolerance and acceptance, were still judgmental on anyone. This messy train of thoughts were not helpful in Ginny's quest to secure entrance to Dream Land.

Sleep was elusive and Ginny admitted defeat. She climbed down the bed and drank from the jug of water on the bedside table. Ginny crossed the room and stood by the windows, admiring the view. Drops of snow were falling from the night sky, covering everything with a blanket of whiteness. As far as her eyes could see in the dim light, mountains and valleys filled the horizon. Ginny guessed the Pirates' Lair was located in a mountainous area, but she could not figure out yet which part of the world were they at.

Ginny decided to take a walk around the Lair. After all, Tristane did give her green light to roam around wherever she wanted. Ginny took the robe she threw on the sofa when she went for bed. It was red, in a true Gryffindor colour, courtesy of Tristane. The robe was enchanted to keep the wearer warm, which was perfect for a cold night.

Ginny took a step down the staircase and paused, glancing at Tristane's door. Should she knock? The redhead was aware that she needed to talk to the one-eyed witch, to explain her feelings and whatever was on her mind. But she decided against it. Tristane had been looking tired lately and the Slytherin needed her rest. Ginny could bother her in the morning, when Christmas came.

Christmas.

The word left a bitter taste in her mouth. Usually, Ginny would be in her bed in the Burrow after a night full of games and friendly banter with her brothers. She missed her mother's cooking – were they having the usual roasted chicken for Christmas Eve? Ginny wondered whether in the morning she would receive the annual Weasley jumper. Would Hermione receive one as well? And how were her brothers faring? This would be the first Christmas since Fred's death, and Ginny was not with her family to comfort them and draw comfort from them. This was the worst Christmas ever.

Ginny sighed and climbed down the spiral staircase. The house was quiet, much too quiet compared to the Burrow and it struck Ginny how lonely Tristane would be if the redhead was not there to accompany her. Tristane was an only child and spent most of her time with her father, away from civilization. How was the witch brought up, exactly?

Ginny wandered about, entering random rooms that took her fancy. The Lair still retained its stately and magnificent aura, no doubt from being revered by the Blacks as their ancestral home. Ginny never bothered to find out about the Weasleys' history. All she knew was she was from a long line of purebloods which historically always aligned themselves with the forces of light, unlike the Blacks.

A thought crossed Ginny's mind: how did the Weasleys achieved living in near poverty? Ginny was not 'monkish' enough to be happy and in full acceptance of the family's financial status. While she was not a materialistic person, there were things that she wished she could ask from her parents without watching their faces frowned, knowing they could not afford the items she asked for. Ginny was eternally grateful to be the only girl – while there were many of her things that were hand-me-downs, some of her feminine clothes were brand-new. Nothing expensive, mostly bought during clearance sales, but they were new nevertheless. She sometimes pitied Ron – being the youngest son was nothing to be envied of in the Weasley family. All of his things were handed down starting from Bill, to Fred and George. Also, some of Bill's things were handed down from their father. It was only due to their participation during the war that each of them was awarded a decent sum of money from the Ministry.

Ginny shook her mind, clearing her thoughts. She did not blame her parents, but she sometimes wished they would be more… well, having less financial problems. Ginny opened a set of oaken double doors and peered in.

Countless books, parchments, scrolls, and tomes were housed in a massive room doubled the size of the Burrow. How big was the Pirates' Lair, exactly? It was astonishing. Ginny entered the room, admiring the view. She walked alongside one bookshelf and noticed that as she walked, the section of the bookshelf paralleled to her lighted up. Clever, very clever, she thought to herself. The whole library would not require to be fully lit, only the areas where the readers were. Ginny would drag Hermione to check this place out when the brunette came for a visit in a few days' time. Hermione would die in happiness.

Ginny also found the kitchens and was surprised to see two house-elves still working. The creatures seemed delighted to see Ginny and made her scones and a cup of tea. Unlike the squalid conditions of house-elves found in a typical evil-ish household, the house-elves were clean, looking happy, and seemed to be in good health. Well, one more point to Tristane in being a non-evil warlord.

With stomach stuffed and feet tired, Ginny decided to return to her room. Maybe this time she would be able to sleep. Before she climbed the spiral staircase, she noticed that there were a set of stairs leading downwards slightly hidden behind the spiral ones. Curious, she climbed down and was faced with a rather long hallway which seemed to be adorned with numerous portraits. At the end of the hallway was a bright light, and Ginny wanted to know what that was.

The redhead walked silently, not wanting to wake the portraits. There were hundreds of dead Blacks, sleeping in their respective portraits. Most had the standard haughty face and wavy dark hair. All of them looked beautiful though. The Blacks had it all: wealth, looks, and power. Unfortunately they had to mess it up by inter-marriage. Their blind obsession with blood purity would be their undoing, if it not were for Tristane's existence.

She was nearing the source of light when someone coughed twice, asking for her attention. She spun around and scanned the portraits, wondering which of them was still awake.

"Why is a blood traitor traipsing around this sacred place?" the voice was cold and disdainful.

She saw him, a wizard sitting on a large chair, holding the head of a dragon. He stared at her, eyes full of loathing and anger.

Before Ginny could reply, another voice said angrily, "Our family is on the brink of destruction, yet all you think of is blood purity?"

Ginny turned her head, searching for the voice. It was a grey-haired wizard, in an ancient Healers' uniform, standing on a boulder in the desert.

The first wizard, whom Ginny decided to nickname as 'asshole', scoffed and said, "You've always been soft towards these… abominations."

Healer-guy laughed darkly. "Abominations? Aside from wands, their lives are not so different from ours. You should be glad your descendant is smart enough to know that."

"I'd rather have my bloodline dies out than being tainted by filth," asshole huffed.

Healer-guy rolled his eyes. By then, several other portraits woke up, murmuring and watching the heated exchange.

"And what have you done during your lifetime, Lemuel, aside from emptying the coffers to purchase firewhisky and whores?"

"I killed a dragon, you wretched scum! Much better than you, saving those filths instead of ending their miserable existence!"

"Exactly, you only killed one dragon throughout your lifetime of thirty years," the Healer laughed, amused.

Lemuel swore and drew horrified gasps from the rest of the awoken portraits. Ginny stifled a laugh. What a rebel.

"You are distracting me from this blood traitor, you muggle-lover," Lemuel fumed. "She even dares to stay here and look at me with her disgusting, filthy – "

"Quiet!"

A lone figure stood at the entrance of the hallways, her hair tousled and robe worn carelessly. Tristane looked weary and exhausted, as if she could faint anytime. Unconsciously, Ginny's feet moved toward the Slytherin. The redhead would be there to catch Tristane if she were to fall.

"I am the current head of the Black family and in two days' time I will have my coming-of-age ceremony," Tristane's voice was that of cold fury. Her stare at Lemuel was hard, with a hint of insanity.

"I will not have portraits of my ancestors being impolite toward my guests. Ginevra Weasley is here as my special guest," she emphasized on the word 'special'. "This is the very reason why I have all of you kept together in one area, instead of placed all over the house. It is three fucking a.m.," the portraits gasped collectively in horror again, "and your bloody bickering kept me awake. If I ever hear you being disrespectful to any of my guests again, I will destroy your portrait and blow your name off the tapestry."

The threat worked. Lemuel kept quiet, his face red in anger. The Healer had a smug expression and winked at Ginny. The redhead felt oddly happy at being defended by Tristane. True, the offender was just a portrait, but Ginny was happy all the same.

"Are you alright?" Tristane turned to Ginny.

The redhead nodded.

"I was just looking around, couldn't sleep," she explained, afraid that Tristane would be angry at her for being the cause of the noises. "I saw a strange light at the end of the hallway and was just curious."

Tristane nodded.

"It's a magical barrier to keep the weather out in place of a door. It leads to the garden outside. I'd take you there but it's freezing. Come, let's go someplace else."

Tristane took Ginny's hand and led her upstairs.

"Sorry to wake you up," Ginny apologized. Tristane's steps were heavy and slow, as if she were forcing herself to move.

Tristane gave Ginny a small smile.

"It's okay, I couldn't sleep anyway," the Slytherin winced in pain and massaged her head.

Ginny looked at her with concern. She put an arm around Tristane's waist, to lend strength and prevent the other witch from falling down the stairs. Ginny helped Tristane to the Slytherin's room and was going to tuck her in when the redhead noticed that Tristane's sheets were damp. Tristane must be having severe headaches and had been tossing around her bed. So Ginny dragged the other witch to her room and helped her to get on the bed.

"Uh, I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable," Ginny apologised. "It's just that your sheets were damp and you need your rest and my bed is dry and so I thought it's better for you to sleep with me. I mean, on my bed." She was babbling. "I'll sleep on the couch, it's large enough for me."

As Ginny turned to go to the couch, Tristane grabbed her hand.

"Can you sleep with me? I mean, I was having nightmares," the Slytherin avoided looking into Ginny's eyes, her face a shade of red.

Ginny suppressed a grin and complied. Tristane moved to the side and Ginny slid under the blanket, conscious of the distance the Slytherin was putting.

"Uh, if Daphne asks, you can say that we're not touching each other," Tristane mumbled, looking away.

Ginny made a decision. She gently gathered a surprised Tristane in her arms and murmured, "I'm not with Daphne anymore, Tristane. We broke up some time ago."

"I'm sorry about that, Ginny," Tristane sounded genuine. She was also massaging her head, still wincing in pain.

"I'm serious about what I said before, Pirate," Ginny said gently. "I am your friend not because of something else. And I also have feelings for you, feelings that I don't quite understand and sometimes confuse me, but I do know that I like you a lot."

Tristane was quiet.

"I won't give up on you," Ginny added, vowing.

Tristane rested the hand that was massaging her head over Ginny's stomach, and the redhead felt it was a perfect position. Warm. Comfortable. Peaceful. Happy.

"You can do better than me," the Slytherin whispered. "You have a bright future, Gin, don't mess it up by chasing me."

Ginny frowned and tightened her hold on Tristane.

"That's nonsense," she said firmly. "I'd rather face difficulties than lie to myself while living an easy life. I like you. Nothing can change that."

Tristane was quiet. Her breathing slowly returned to a steady rhythm. Ginny thought the Slytherin finally fell asleep. She herself closed her eyes, trying to gain entrance into Dream Land.

"You don't know me well, Ginny." Ginny opened her eyes, rather surprise that Tristane was still awake. "But you know of my family history. We're a mess, and we stand for things you oppose. While I'm not like them, who's to say I won't turn into them? I'm a big risk. Plus I'm also a witch, not a wizard, and one who's pretty useless with a wand. The only thing I have is people's fear of my surname and the wealth that comes along being a Black. Other than that, I'm clueless about both muggle and wizarding worlds. I have nothing to offer you, really. I only have one eye. No parents. Heck, I don't even know who my mother was. I will be graduating Hogwarts without a proper certificate because there's no way I could take the exams. Also, I – "

Ginny could not take it anymore and kissed Tristane hard, catching the Slytherin with surprise. The kiss turned into a gentle and passionate affair, with Tristane returning it. There were butterflies rocking hard in Ginny's stomach, and a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins. Ginny deepened the kiss, already lost in it. Tristane let out a moan, and it set Ginny on fire, on the edge.

Ginny moved to kiss Tristane along the jaw, taking her sweet time. She breathed in the scent that was uniquely Tristane. Lilac. Tristane's hands were around Ginny, gripping the redhead's shoulders tightly. One of Ginny's hands supported her weight, allowing her to explore further, kissing Tristane down her neck while her other hand rested lightly on the Slytherin's waist.

"Wait, Gin," Tristane gasped. "Fast. Uh wait."

Ginny was brought out of the other world and gaze into Tristane's eye, full of a swirl of emotions. The Slytherin was breathless and her face was flushing. A hand softly caressed Ginny's cheek.

"You're supposed to wine and dine me first," Tristane was catching her breath.

Ginny could not repress her grin. She kissed Tristane's temple lightly.

"Would you go on date with me, Miss Black?"

Tristane huffed. "Only one?"

Ginny laughed and kissed Tristane quickly on the lips.

"Well, it all starts with one, right?"

Tristane smiled and pulled Ginny down for a cuddle.

"Are you sure though?"

"Yep. I don't know whether I'm doing the right thing or not, but I'm a Gryffindor and we Gryffindors follow our hearts. So to hell with whoever's and whatever's going to give us a hard time. Between your scary surname and my Gryffindor bravery, I'm pretty sure we can conquer the world."

Tristane chuckled.

"Then yes, I'll have a date with you, Miss Weasley. But it's late and before we can rule the world, we need our beauty sleep."

Ginny whispered in Tristane's ear, "Merry Christmas, Captain Hook."

"Merry Christmas, my Pirate."

Ginny grinned happily into her sleep. The gates to Dream Land were opened to her now.