So sorry it took me this long, but my computer was having some trouble. Anyways, thanks to the following:

Lobos506 for the review. I'm going to try! :)

Brielle Montegomery for the review. I feel terrible about taking so long lol. And yeah, I sympathized with her too. At first I didn't mean to write her that specific way, but Pansy kind of took the chapter into her own hands ;)

beautyinthemild for follow, favorite, and review. Thank you so much! I really enjoyed writing Pansy that way. Hopefully it won't take me as long to get a new chapter up.

hatebelow for the lovely review! Thank you for taking the time to review! :) As for Pansy crying about conversation or how Draco feels about her, it's sort of a combination of both, I think. Then again, it's up to the reader how they prefer to take it. From the beginning of the story, I've wanted to write something like that between Draco and Pansy.

Guest for the review. Yeah, Pansy was kind of flat in the books, and I really enjoyed writing about her like that. Hope you continue to like it! :)

suspense button presser for the favorite and lovely reviews! First off, thanks for the detailed review. I did make a lot of mistakes, and it helps when people ask about them so I can correct them :) I needed snow for a specific scene, so I tried to make it sound like it was an abnormal cold front. I know it was kind of a stretch lol. And I'm glad you decided to come back to Fanfiction! Good luck on your own stories ;)

And I'm really glad you like my style of writing. Also, good luck with that relationship hehe! Your review inspired a part of chapter 31, so if I don't have to change some things, you'll get to see Ron confront Draco after Quidditch tryouts ;)

BillaRayne for the follow!

itzel .mgmt for the follow!

Thatwasacinch for the follow!

Tom Riddle Minor for the lovely review! Thank you so much, and I hope the rest of the story doesn't disappoint :)

Very sorry if I forgot anyone!


When Ginny saw Draco leaning against the Entrance Hall doors on Friday afternoon, she discreetly gave him a smile. The Slytherin acknowledged her greeting with a nod. He seemed preoccupied by something, only meeting her gaze for a second before turning his attention back to the floor. Whatever the reason for his inattentiveness, she would find out about it in a few minutes. The troubled shadows in his eyes concerned her more than it should have.

Weaving gracefully through the crowd of students, Ginny motioned with her head towards the doors. It would be better for them both if no one saw them leaving together. They had agreed that their friendship was best kept secret, least Ron or Draco—or worse, both—be sent to Azkaban for duelling with intent to kill.

Although her reasoning was sound, it pained Draco to sink to subterfuge again. Why must he sneak away and lie to his housemates as if he were committing a crime? His current sins were heavy enough as it was without adding to them. Logic, however, told him that no one would ever accept his relationship with Ginny. If they were to announce that they were friends, either one of them would be in the infirmary within a day.

Nevertheless, it still hurt. If he could move on, why was everyone else stuck in the past? Merlin, if Ginny could forgive him for what he did—rather by repairing the Vanishing Cabinets, let Greyback do—to her brother Bill, why could the rest of the world not do the same? He and his family had destroyed many lives, but in the end, theirs had suffered the same fate. He was just so tired of fighting. Where was that peace Potter preached about?

Eventually, Ginny managed to sneak out the door to meet him. The smirk playing on her lips teased a reluctant smile from him. "Alright, let's get the torture over with," she said as she began making her way down the beaten path towards the Forbidden Forest. The wind tossed her hair into her face, but she made no move to brush it away.

This was his chance; she seemed in a talkative mood. All he had to do was open his mouth and ask her about it. For some reason, however, Draco could not make his lips form the words. Why was it so hard to ask a simple question? It had been haunting him for the past two days. Then, when he finally found the right time to ask her, he froze up. Why was he so tongue-tied?

It was not because he was afraid of hurting her. He hated how the thought even crossed his mind. Why would he care if he hurt her? He never had before.

Nevertheless, the answer smugly niggled in the back of his brain. Because, however unfeasible it seemed, they were friends now. Yes, Draco Malfoy actually cared whether what he said made someone feel bad or not. Well, not someone, really—just Ginny. Maybe Pansy. But no, Pansy knew him well enough that she could tell what he truly meant. He did not have to worry about her.

Fear of hurting Ginny was not the reason for his reluctance, however. Truthfully, Draco was afraid of how she would answer his question. What if he was right? His jaw clenched. Everything he had worked for over the past few days would have been for nothing. He would loose her.

On the other hand, what if he was wrong? There could still be a chance for them. Could he throw that chance away by giving up before he found out? If he never asked her about it, how would he know? The decision would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he would always wonder "what if?" He took a deep breath. Merlin, he hated having friends. Depending on others made him vulnerable, made him weak.

Ginny started when he suddenly stopped walking and turned towards her. His grey eyes stared down at her like storm clouds. If she strained her ears, she might even hear faint rumbling.

His voice was low, almost a whisper. "Ginny, what was in the letter?"

The question had been hovering on the tip of his tongue ever since yesterday morning. All night he had tossed and turned, unable to sleep as he speculated on what Potter had told her. Even though it had nearly killed him, he had not mentioned the letter Thursday night.

One night, he had vowed. One night for her to relax and to not worry about Potter. One night for her to walk beside me without him on her mind. It was disgusting how much he cared whether she had actually focused on him last night or whether Scarhead's name had lurked in the back of her mind.

It had both pleased and unsettled him how she had not referred to the letter herself. Did she not trust him enough to talk to him about it? Was that why she said nothing? She had every reason not to trust him, after all. However, he had thought they were working past their insecurities. I guess I was wrong about that, too.

Alternatively, she could have not wanted to discuss Potter because she was over him. She could have finally moved on and put the boy behind her. The possibility, small as it was, made him bite his tongue hard enough o draw blood to keep from grinning like a fool.

After she pushed aside her shock, Ginny slowly replied, "Nothing. It was nothing." The way she addressed his shirt instead of his face would have been comical at any other time. As it was, he balled his fists in frustration. For once, he wished she would just be honest with him, without any reservations.

"Ginny..." Again, a quiet whisper, almost inaudible. The skin around his eyes was tight, and two grooves slashed his forehead.

Sighing, she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Why did he have to say her name like that? So...so compellingly? It made it very difficult to brush him off. Her cheeks warmed.

"Fine," she growled, ignoring the sensation. "He wants me to meet him in Hogsmead this Saturday. Said he couldn't wait any longer and just wants to talk to me. I promised Hermione I'd go. Are you happy now?"

No, not really, his mind supplied helpfully. Before he could say something incredibly stupid, Draco resumed his trek down the path.

Nitwit, he scolded himself. What did you expect? Her to toss him to the wayside and run to you instead? He's her boyfriend, the savior of the world; while you're a good-for-nothing Death Eater she can't even call her friend when in public. Of course she's going to hear him out. They'll have a nice long talk about how much they love each other, he'll propose, and they'll live happily ever after. Big deal. Get over it, you idiot!

Surprised by his sudden movement, Ginny blinked and hurried after him. Her long legs quickly caught her up to him. Shooting her a fleeting grimace, he lengthened his stride. "Draco, what's the matter? You look like you've been kicked by a hippogriff. Draco!" Annoyance sided with her confusion.

The silence stretched between them as Draco twisted his lips together in a grimace. Absently stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets, he felt a crumpled heap inside. He slowed down enough to pull it out. A wrinkled, worn handkerchief rested in his hand; in the corner was a hand-stitched "G" that curved gently on itself.

It had been so long ago, it seemed, since she had given him the embroidered handkerchief. He had forgotten about it and only stuffed it in every new pair of pants because it kept falling out when he changed.

Ginny paused beside him, leaning over curiously. When she saw what was in his hand, she exclaimed, "My handkerchief! You still have it." She looked up in delight, her hands reaching out to grasp his arm.

Furrowing his brow, Draco nodded once. "Yes. Here," he murmured, pressing it against her fingers.

"You even had it washed. It looks better now than it did before." A small exaggeration, but Ginny felt it was worth it when she saw the ghost of a smile on his face. His reply was full of false acerbity that even he winced at.

"Yeah, well, I told the house-elves to wash it twice to get all the Weasley germs off. I wouldn't want to contaminate myself further. Merlin knows what sort of diseases I've gotten already."

Nodding in mock seriousness, the Gryffindor fingered the frayed hem fondly. She looked up when he resumed his walk at a slower pace than before. When she was sure he was not looking, Ginny lifted the handkerchief to her face and inhaled. The memorable scent of mint, old parchment, and snowy winter nights washed over her. It was cold and sharp, like a gust of fresh mountain air.

Smiling, she carefully tucked it in her pocket and strolled forward.

They continued down the dirt path until it merged with a rocky trail. Moisture glistened on the stones. It must have drizzled last night, Ginny mused as she skirted a rock jutting out towards her. As she placed her right foot down, the stone underneath loosened. Her balance off-put, Ginny lurched forward before grabbing the nearest object. Her foot twisted sideways, and she held back a wince.

Draco scowled when he felt the Gryffindor latch onto his left forearm. When he looked over at her, the grimace slipped off his face. "What did you do now?" he asked wearily, bending down to examine her leg. She lifted her chin and released his arm. "Nothing. I'm fine."

He shook his head as Ginny surged forward determinedly. However, when she rested her weight solely on her right leg, a pained hiss betrayed her. With a roll of his eyes, Draco grabbed her arm and guided her towards a large rock resting beside the trail. "Sit." He ignored her protests and carefully pushed her down on it.

As he reached for her pants leg, Ginny lightly slapped his hand away. "I'm fine. It's just sore, that's all. I don't need your help." She bit her lip at the expression on his face. It was as if he had drawn the shutters on his eyes. The light in them was muffled at best, snuffed out at worst. "Draco, I'm sorry. But really, I'm fine." She hated others helping her when she was capable to helping herself. Nevertheless, the blankness of his face troubled her.

He nodded and rose to his feet without a sound. Turning to resume his walk down to the Forbidden Forest, he paused at her harsh exhale.

"Draco, wait. I... You're right. I'm not fine," she admitted quietly. It was for his sake, she told herself. If she distracted him, it would make it easier for her to find out what was bothering him.

Caught by her rueful tone, the Slytherin sighed, trudging back towards her. "Alright, let me see. We've already established that I'm no Healer, but Mother's treated enough of my sprained wrists and ankles that I know how to take care of them. Now stretch your leg out and roll your pants up to the knee."

Once she had done that, he grasped her white ankle and gently rotated it. Her gasp of pain made him stop. Fingering the small bump above the bone, he mused, "Well, it's not broken at least. It is badly sprained, though, so you shouldn't put too much weight on it. I think I remember the spell Mother used." Seeing her wary look, he smirked. "Don't worry, Weasley. I'd never hurt you. Well, not on purpose. Maybe under certain circumstances. Hmm, that's a nasty-looking bruise coming up there."

While Draco focused on Ginny's ankle, a dark red blush seared her cheeks. As his fingers swept across her skin, she swallowed. This was not like shaking his hand.

The airy sensation in her stomach exploded into a full gravity-deprived airsickness. She felt as if she was floating, or maybe freefalling—yes, that was it. She was freefalling with no broom or wand in sight. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating at the same time. Nothing had ever compared to her love of flying before; this felt almost as good. Now if only she could find out what "this" actually was.

She bit the inside of her cheek in frustration.

Draco trailed his finger across her foot lightly. Her subtle shiver went unnoticed. Frowning, he reached into his trouser pocket and withdrew his wand. While he could not heal it completely, he could ease her pain until he got her to Madam Pomfrey. The question was what spell he should use. He chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

Finally, he pointed his wand at her swollen ankle and stated, "Heil." A relieved sigh rushed past Ginny's lips as heat seeped through her skin, easing the tense muscles. The sound made Draco smirk in satisfaction.

Getting to his feet, he held out his hand to help her up. She grimaced but grabbed it anyway and hauled herself off the rock. The first step was wobbly, but she quickly regained her confidence when she found that the pain in her ankle was nearly nonexistent.

"Excellent. Now let's get you back to the castle."

Ginny turned to face him with her hands on her hips. "Excuse me? I'm perfectly fine now, thank you. We'd better go before Hagrid realizes what time it is and sees that we're late. Unless you'd rather get another week of detention with me," she added smugly.

Her ploy worked, and he scowled before stalking past her, muttering under his breath about "idiotic Gryffindors who are too stubborn for their own good." Even though the ache in her ankle was slowly coming back with each step, Ginny followed him with a self-satisfied grin.

"So, why are we going to see Hagrid?" she questioned after a few minutes, taking care not to loose her balance on the moistened rocks again. Walking ahead of her, the Slytherin rolled his eyes. "If you had actually listened to Professor Sprout earlier, you would know." His lips twitched when he heard her "Hmph!"

Conceding, he replied, "If you must know, we're to pick up a rare fungus the oaf has been cultivating in the Forbidden Forest. Sprout wants to use it in her third year classes on Monday. You would know this if you hadn't been so busy doodling hearts and little broomsticks on your parchment."

"Those weren't hearts! They were Quaffles," she retorted defensively, struggling to keep a blush off her face. What was it with her blushing all of a sudden? Being around Draco had her doing it left and right. It was maddening! "And the 'little broomsticks' were extremely accurate representations of my Firebolt."

Draco gave an undignified snort. "You call those Quaffles? Any ball looking like that would be transfigured at least three times before Hooch would allow it on the pitch. The broomsticks were nice though, I'll admit. Where did you learn to draw like that?" Though his tone was casual, Ginny could sense the curiosity behind his words.

Smiling, Ginny answered, "I take Art class. I've always liked to doodle, but I've never really been good at it. I needed another class period, so McGonagall suggested Magical Art or Muggle Art. To me, drawing isn't drawing if you're using your wand, so I decided to try the Muggle class. It's actually quite fun. It takes the place of my Herbology class now, since I dropped it after fifth year. I got a decent O.W.L. in the class, but I didn't see taking it to the N.E.W.T. level. I mean, what do I need Herbology for in the future? I already know I'm going to play for the Holyhead Harpies."

Merlin's beard, was she rambling?

"Hmm, that's alright, I guess. But if you actually wanted to win the European Cup, you would join the Chudley Cannons. They are the best, after all." It might have been just her imagination, but she thought she detected smugness in his voice.

"Even Wood joined them. You never played on his team, did you?" He continued speaking without pausing for her answer. "His last year was '93 to '94, my second year on the Slytherin team. If I recall correctly, you joined in the '95 to '96 season, as the '94 to '95 was cancelled during the Triwizard Tournament. Don't look so surprised, Weasley. I kept tabs on every new player, especially on the Gryffindor team." The distance between them increased as Draco lengthened his stride again.

Ginny bit her lip to keep from laughing at his apparent discomfort. "Of course, Malfoy. Of course."

"I did!" he called over his shoulder with a huff. "It wasn't just you. And stop snickering! I can hear you even if I can't see you."


Next up, Ginny meets Harry in Hogsmead.