Realizations:

Ginny strolled down the dungeon corridor towards the stairs, not in a particular hurry to get anywhere because she had nowhere in particular to be. It was too soon to start primping for the leaving feast tonight. Much too soon to pack for her final trip home. The free-for-all Quidditch game didn't start for a couple more hours to accommodate the poor sods who had to sit through one more afternoon class. And Hermione was occupied shagging Snape. So that left Ginny with literally nothing to do.

Normally, she'd find some of her other friends to hang out with to gossip about boys or whatever, but after what she'd just done in Snape's bed, Ginny didn't feel much like pretending life was the same as it had been a couple hours ago.

As she started climbing the stairs, she resolved that she'd just go to her dorm and have a lie down until it was time to go kick some asses with her broom. Namely, Ron's and Harry's. Those immature dunderheads deserve to have some sense knocked into them with a bludger or two. She still couldn't believe how badly her brother had acted in Snape's class. Wouldn't have blamed Snape if he finally snapped and gave in to the urge to murder one of his students.

Would have been an interesting one to explain to Mum, that's for…

Hey, what's that?

Ginny had spotted a rolled up ball of paper on the step currently at eye level.

Why do people have to litter? How hard is it to find a rubbish bin or whip out your wand and vanish it?

Grumbling about pampered Slytherins under her breath, Ginny pulled her wand from the pocket of her robe and nearly vanished the paper for whoever had tossed it so carelessly on the stairs, but at the last second, a frisson of curiosity had her grabbing the paper instead.

She shot the abused paper with a restoring spell and it uncurled itself to its former pristine condition. It turned out to be a picture of a witch. A very sad and very unattractive witch who looked even worse than Snape had during her Sixth year. The woman in the magical photo was so depressed that she barely moved on her paper, her eyes only flicking up for a moment before returning to her contemplation of something lower.

"Wow," Ginny said to the photo sympathetically. "You've had a tough life, haven't you, whoever you are." Probably a distant cousin or something to one of the Snakes. "How bout I put you out of your misery?"

On its endless loop, the witch in the photo flicked her dark eyes up at Ginny again as if in agreement.

Taking that for whatever it was, Ginny vanished the photo with a flick of her wand.

Tucking her wand back away, she continued up the stairs, still intending to make for her dorm room, but as she wandered down one of the many hallways on the hike back to Gryffindor Tower, she saw a door to the outside and suddenly she felt drawn to go through it. Staring at the door for a second, she shrugged and opened it. Why not? I could certainly use some fresh air. Clear my head of the Snape vibes.

So she stepped out into the early afternoon sunlight and drew in a deep breath of the refreshing mountain and summer scented air. The landscape around her was blooming with greenery, and the giant hill that loomed above the castle bristled with evergreen trees. From this side of the castle, she couldn't see the lake, but she had no doubt that many of the students were already playing in it, taking advantage of one of the few school days where it was warm enough to do so without freezing their arses off.

Ginny didn't feel much like joining the swimmers either, so she turned her attention to the forest that bordered the castle grounds. Technically, the Forbidden Forest was off limits to students without a teacher being present, but Ginny had spent so much time with Hagrid in its depths serving 'detentions' last year that the dangers within didn't faze her anymore.

And the forest was calling to her.

Letting her feet continue to lead the way, Ginny descended the stone steps that cut into the hill and then jogged down the rest of the slope, allowing gravity to make it fun. Laughing a little when she reached the bottom, she slowed back to a walk and sauntered past Hagrid's hut as if she had every right to aim for prohibited territory.

She was still smiling when she walked under the first tree and the bright daylight suddenly faded away to a more threatening twilight. Ginny ignored the chill that chased up her spine – an automatic reflex to the wards set on the edge of the forest designed to scare off the younger students and hopefully prevent them from getting themselves lost and eaten – and found the faint pathway through the woods that she'd hiked many times.

Walking amongst the ancient trees, Ginny found a sense of peace that the halls of Hogwarts had never provided for her. With her being possessed by Tom Riddle's journal practically right off the bat in her first year, the school had become a place to be endured, the haunting and horrific memories never really leaving her alone. But the forest… The forest was a different entity entirely. While also being dangerous, there was nothing living there that she couldn't handle, she had no bad memories within it, and the freedom found under the high canopy of boughs was exactly what she needed to unwind from long days of studying or boyfriend stress.

About fifteen minutes of hiking down the path and a short jaunt off to the right when she passed a certain tree with a split trunk, there was a clearing filled with wildflowers and purple heather where the sunlight found a break in the canopy. It was her favourite place near Hogwarts, and maybe even her favourite place in all of Great Britain.

Because it was hers alone.

Or not…

Ginny came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the clearing and glared daggers at the interloper who'd found her haven. His name came out like a growl in her throat as her hands planted on her hips in annoyance. "Malfoy."

The boy's white-blond head whipped up and his eyes widened comically. "Weaslette!" He leapt to his feet, dumping quill, parchment, and bookbag down to the grass. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be…" he cut himself off, pressing his lips together tightly.

While she was vaguely curious as to what he thought she'd be doing right now, she was more concerned with the invasion of HER quiet place. She stalked towards him and glared up into his face. "I'm here because this is MY place, Malfoy. What the hell are you doing in it?"

Finally losing his shocked look, he glared back down at her. "Your place, Princess? I think not. This is MY place! I've been coming here for years!"

Wishing she was standing on higher ground or something, Ginny silently cursed the last growth spurt that had turned Draco into a tall drink of sexy… Shite. I did not just think that. "Well, so have I!"

They stared at each other for a minute at least, neither backing down. And then Draco surprised her by suddenly laughing, throwing his head back and everything.

"What?" she demanded, poking him in the chest. "What's funny?!"

He looked back down at her again, a grin splitting his face and flashing his perfect white teeth at her as he caught her hand and held it surprisingly gently. Almost caressingly even. The strangest shock of electricity ran up her arm from his touch, inspiring her to snatch her hand back immediately. Which I would have done anyway, she assured herself.

"Us," he said, after blinking at his own hand for a second as if he'd felt the same thing, and then shrugged it off as a random occurrence of static.

Which it undoubtedly was.

"We're funny," he continued. "Fighting over a patch of grass and flowers in a magical forest, as if we could actually own them."

Disconcerted by the weird hand holding, the static, his sudden good mood, and his logical explanation for it, Ginny basically snarled, "Yes, well. Be that as it may. You're still in my place, and I think you should leave!"

Draco huffed a snort and turned back to his things. "I think not. I was here first, Princess. You can either live with that and share the clearing, or find someplace else to go."

And with that, he sank back down to the grass gracefully into a cross-legged position and picked up his bookbag again, using it as a table of sorts for his writing. Then he started scribbling away again as if she wasn't there.

Ginny gawked at the boy for a moment, both surprised and not at his cocksure audacity. Then she huffed as well, but hers was of the exasperated kind that she'd heard her mother make a million times to the males in her family. Her first inclination was to stomp off in an epic show of discontent, but then she thought of something even better.

If he wants to share the space, then that's what I'm going to do.

And why the hell does he keep calling me Princess? It's weird!

Ginny marched up to Draco and copied his position on the grass, only a foot or so in front of him. And then she stared at him like she could fry him with her eyes.

The jerk didn't even bother to acknowledge her, but his mouth might have twitched a fraction. Or maybe she imagined it.

Aside from an occasional bird call and the whisper of a breeze in the treetops above, the only sound in the clearing was the soft scratch of the quill on the parchment as he made notes, crossed out a few things, and wrote some more.

It didn't take Ginny long to realize that she'd picked the wrong option. Because, while he had something to occupy himself and thus ignore her, she had nothing to do but stare at him and come to the conclusion that his features were practically flawless.

The sunlight was lovingly dancing over his face as he concentrated on what he was doing, illuminating flawless pale skin even lighter than her own and making his hair shine like a cross between champagne and silver. He had pale eyelashes that swept like thick fans over his cheekbones as he looked down. (Because of how light they were, she'd never even noticed he had eyelashes before, but sitting this close, and with the sunlight helping, she couldn't help but admire them.) His nose was as perfectly sculpted as a nose could get. His ears as elegant as she'd ever seen. His forehead, broad and clear, save for a tiny furrow line from concentration. His lips were a perfect bow and a tempting shade of pink. His clean-shaven jaw much less pointy than it used to be and now just firm and manly.

He's honestly too beautiful for his own good.

And yet… He's gone the entire school year without a single date as far as I know. The girls grapevine would never be so remiss as to forget to mention if someone had gone out with him. Which means he must be feeling mighty lonely.

Not liking the suddenly sympathetic bent to her thoughts, she deliberately made herself think meaner ones.

But he deserves to be so! He was a Death Eater! And he nearly killed Katie! And Ron! And… her thoughts stumbled on Dumbledore's name, derailing her indignation. Because Snape was the one who'd actually killed the beloved Headmaster. And Snape had been a Death Eater. And Snape had only done it all because he'd had to, not because he'd wanted to. Draco, by all accounts, had been trapped in the same sinking boat. Everyone forgave Snape. Calls him a hero. Why can't we at least do half that for Malfoy?

And so her gaze gradually morphed from pissed off glare to contemplative. Ginny found herself studying his features anew, now seeing the faint lines of stress ingrained in his skin that should never be imbedded in a nineteen year old boy. She also saw someone who's bearing and pride refused to be broken, despite all of the hell he'd been through in the last few years.

She mentally put herself in his shoes and nearly flinched at just the first thought. The rest had her wincing in sympathy within moments.

He lost his father to Azkaban for a year. Had to endure the presence of Voldemort in his house for who knows how long. Was forced to try and murder Dumbledore or watch his mother be tortured and killed. Lost her anyway in the war. And he's been ostracized by his peers ever since. Merlin, they even refused to let him play in his rightful place as Seeker on the Slytherin team this year. Honestly, most people would be a fucking mess after that. But he's still walking tall and succeeding at everything he does, only second to Hermione for marks, and that's not something to be ashamed of. No one beats Hermione but Hermione.

And maybe Snape, she added with a flicker of a smile to herself.

Shifting a little, she rested her chin on her fist and broke off a few blades of grass. She tossed them at Draco so they landed on his parchment, and asked, "Watcha writing?"

Startled, Draco looked up at her, his grey eyes looking even more silver than his hair in the sunlight. "Why do you care?"

Ginny shrugged and threw a daisy at him, just for the fun of it. "Why not? If you're going to make me share my space, we might as well be friendly about it."

Draco blinked at her a couple times, and then the most glorious, genuine smile of joy crossed his face, transforming him from ice sculpture perfection to warm, gorgeous, and someone for the first time since she'd met him she might actually be willing to get to know. Maybe even more than willing.

It was a startling realization.

And one that Harry and Ron would probably hate her for.

She also realized that she didn't care.

My weird day just got weirder.