Dear Ginny,
I heard from Ron that you're running a ball for Halloween. That sounds great! But I have to say, I can't begin to imagine how awful it must be to be stuck with Malfoy. I know you can handle anything- I believe that with my whole heart. I'm just warning you to be careful around him. Draco Malfoy is sly, cunning and dangerous. So is the family he comes from. Remember that the tattoo he has on his arm is permanent… a Death Eater never truly changes.
(I miss you so much)
(How are you really doing)
(Things just aren't the same now I've left Hogwarts)
Sua and I really seem to be working well together. We've actually applied for a year-long partnership, which the Academy allows in favourable circumstances. My marks are way better than they were before, and the Hogwarts team is crushing the Durmstrangs. Next week we've got a match against Beauxbatons ex-grads. They've got this formidable keeper, Jacques Colemann, who hasn't missed a hoop all season. Hopefully Ron will show him how it's done- Weasley is our King, am I right?
I've made a couple of new friends, but nothing replaces the good old gang. So, good news- I'm coming home for Christmas! I know it's still early, but I'm desperate for a proper Burrow celebration. Although I love Korean food, I haven't had a decent pumpkin pasty in AGES.
The kind of field work we're doing is pretty wild- all sorts of magical drug interception, illegal charm tracing and arrests of old Voldemort supporters. Donald Cricke, the Hufflepuff in my dorm, is particularly good at that. His parents were Snatched in the early War stages and tortured by Bellatrix herself. I don't like to think of our work as revenge, but it does feel like it sometimes when we've got them in chains. What I do know is that I think I've found my purpose in the Wizarding World. It feels better than anything I've ever done in my life.
Sending my (love) regards to you and the family.
Yours Sincerely,
Harry Potter
x
(To Harry,
I hate you so much I've almost stopped being able to love you. But of course I could never really stop)
(To Harry,
I've read every one of your letters and I'm begging you, please don't stop)
(To Harry,
How are you? Do you miss me as much as I miss you?)
(To Harry)
x
To Mum,
Hi. Sorry this letter hasn't come sooner. I was more than a little worried you would send me back a howler when you found out about my punishment for beating up Draco Malfoy. I've apologised and I won't do it again, but I don't regret it. You won't understand why and I'm okay with that, so please be okay with it too.
I miss you and Dad so bloody much (pardon my French). I miss the boys too. I've been writing to Ron every week, but it's just not the same. He was right about not going back to Hogwarts. NOTHING'S the same, even if we pretend it is. All the students are so blank and lifeless. If they do show emotion it's nerves. And I'm definitely no exception. I should've told you this before, but I'm not doing any better than I was when I left. The nightmares are just as bad, the fear hasn't gone away and it's killing every relationship I have in this school. I can't wait to come home.
The teachers are almost as bad as the students as well. One teacher, Gerome Tungstern, is seriously odd. Out of curiosity, does the Order have anything pegged down under his name?
(I miss Harry so much it hurts)
Have a lovely week! Hugs and kisses xx
From Ginny
xxx
October thirty-first arrived in a swarm of purple storm clouds and a cacophony of thunderclaps. Electric dribbles of lightning snaked over the sky, teasing Ginny with the promise of rain but never delivering. The weather was a perfect match for the festering brood of emotions pressing heavily beneath her ribcage. Not only was she terrified that the Halloween ball would be a complete flop, but she somehow had to pull off a break-in to Tungstern's office, find something dangerous and mysterious she didn't even know how to look for and not get caught in the process.
She'd have to make sure she didn't kill Draco Malfoy in the process, too, which was a whole other level of weird.
"Listen, can you take care of the rest of this for tonight?" Ginny asked him as she fervently scrubbed a Quidditch trophy with the Filch-issued rag and sponge she was given at the beginning of detention. "I really have to go."
Every detention proved worse than the last. This time, they were cleaning filthy silverware without magic- Ginny's least favourite punishment of all.
Malfoy looked up from the set of cutlery he was polishing, checked his gold-plated wristwatch and frowned.
"It's four o'clock. What have you forgotten to cancel on today of all days?" he sneered, eyes glimmering with apprehension.
"I need to get ready for the ball, you numpty," Ginny huffed. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She swiped at it with the back of her hand and tried to look aloof.
The lazy smirk on Malfoy's lips was enough to make her squirm.
"So, you're telling me it takes you two hours to put a dress and a pair of heels on?"
Ginny's ears went scarlet. "Other stuff, too!" she protested hotly.
Malfoy shook his head in disbelief and surveyed the cabinet of silver they had left.
"I'm really not in the mood to hear you explain the silly beauty rituals to Hecate that girls do before dances," he said, voice clipped and bored. "Just go. I'll finish up here for you."
Ginny's eyes lit up. "Thanks so-"
"But make sure you do something about that pixie nest you call hair. Oh, and that nasty spot, too."
Ginny's hand went self-consciously to her nose, where a particularly large zit had erupted from the day before.
"You are officially the biggest git I've ever had the misfortune of meeting," Ginny scowled as Malfoy creased up with laughter. "No wonder you couldn't get a date."
The air went stale all of a sudden, and Malfoy eyed her with something slippery and dangerous.
"Meet me in the study room, weasel. And don't you dare be late."
Ginny stormed off, growling obscenities under her breath and stomping up the stairs to the dormitories as loud as she possibly could.
"Password?" the fat lady giggled when she finally reached the portrait-hole.
"Bugger off." The fat lady's smiley, rosy complexion faded almost instantaneously.
"No need to be rude," she huffed, swinging the portrait door open for Ginny anyway.
An hour and a half later, Ginny was still wrestling with the chiton she'd ordered from Madam Malkim's by owl a few days earlier. She'd decided to go as a Greek Goddess- mostly because it was the cheapest Halloween costume the shop had on offer, and partly because she thought it would be the easiest to put on.
Thought. Because whatever in Merlin's name the instruction parchment said, it wasn't working, and Ginny was just about ready to set the stupid dress on fire. When she'd finally folded it correctly and got it to lie half-decently over her shoulders, Ginny allowed herself to appreciate the look.
The chiton was pure white and flowed down below her knees in a soft fabric waterfall. A slit appeared down the side of her left leg for an elegant touch (as Madam Malkim's claimed.) She wore golden sandals and arm bracelets, and a golden belt cinched her waist. She'd teased her flaming ginger hair into loose ringlets, and a crown of laurels circled her brow. She didn't usually wear makeup because of her frequent visits to the Quidditch pitch, but some carefully placed concealer, blush and lipstick hid her dark circles and brightened her face into a vague semblance of what it once was. She'd even managed to calm the raging spot on her nose with a shrinking charm.
A loud chime resonated from the clock on the wall of the cubicle she'd claimed. At first she'd thought that changing in the dormitories would be easiest, but then decided against it when she remembered that Hermione would be in there too.
Avoiding Hermione and the others had become an extreme sport for Ginny recently. She woke up and went to breakfast before any of the other girls did, ate lunch and dinner with Neville and Luna, her only neutral friends, studied in her quarters with Malfoy and enchanted her bed curtains so she couldn't hear the others or be heard in the evenings. All her time aside from lessons was spent in Quidditch training, hall patrols, meetings with prefects, NEWT revision and detention- too many of which were with a certain Slytherin Head Boy.
Cursing herself for being late, Ginny hitched up her skirts, rushed down the hall and out of the Gryffindor Common Room. A crash of thunder sent her heart beating wildly against her chest, and she had to pause for breath outside the door to the study room. Shadows licked the faces of gargoyles who smiled down grotesquely at her panting, sweaty form.
With a grunt, she shoved her weight against the heavy oak and almost crowed in triumph when she saw no one inside.
But the sound died in her throat when Malfoy's dark silhouette turned around.
A jaunty black hat cocked at an angle sat on his corn-silk curls. He wore a white shirt tucked into black trousers with a jabot-style neckpiece adorning his throat. Black leather boots reached his knees and a black cape swept down his back and over his clothes. A black eyemask was held in one hand and a cold expression was etched into his face.
He looked rakish and daring and nothing like himself.
Then again, she probably didn't look much like the Ginny Weasley he knew, either.
"The highwayman," she commented in an idiotically shaky voice. "Better than a vampire, I'll give you that."
The murk seeping through the windows coloured his cheekbones and brow even sharper than usual. His posture was impeccable, but there was something a little more relaxed about it that fitted him better than the costume. It was unnerving how handsome he looked, and more unnerving that Ginny was the one thinking that.
"Athena?" he asked her, sounding bored. She noticed a thin silver sword hung on his belt and felt her neck prickle with embarrassment.
I should've put more effort into this.
"Hera," she corrected, peering at him cautiously. His expression seemed so blank and indifferent that it was quite unnatural. Like he was trying to hide his real feelings beneath a face of quiet disdain.
"I like how she's the most feminine, maternal goddess but is also the literal queen of heaven."
Malfoy didn't answer, shifting in his boots and staring out the window.
"You're late," he sniffed.
"I know."
"Don't let it happen again."
"I won't."
Ginny's eyes glinted in the weak candlelight. Both of their jaws were clenched stubbornly in defiance. She could almost swear she saw Malfoy's eyes drag up and down her body, colour blooming in his cheeks and Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
The silence that grated the air was raw and tasted of too many things unsaid.
"The laurels are tacky and I can still see your spot," he said after a long, tense pause. With an overly dramatic twirl of his cape, he marched straight past Ginny and out of the room, not even bothering to hold the door open or wait for her to catch up with him.
"Can you at least pretend to be nice to me, Malfoy? Just this once? For one evening?" Ginny shouted, breaking out into a run to beat his long, haughty strides. Her mind swirled with anger and confusion at the icy aura that rolled off of him, both chilling and burning her at the same time.
"You would rather I faked reality to please your silly little whims, only for you to give yourself false confidence?" Malfoy scoffed. He stuffed his mask into his pocket and trained his narrowed eyes on the middle distance. "That is real cruelty, Ginevra."
Ginny felt like she'd been slapped in the face by sledgehammer.
"Don't call me that," she hissed between clenched teeth. They were nearing the Great Hall, having taken the quickest route on the enchanted staircases. "What in Godric's name is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?"
"What would you rather I called you?" he snapped, ignoring her questions. "You seem to answer to most things except Ginny. Maybe I'll start calling you that so you'll stop talking so bloody much."
The sting on her palm felt almost as good as the look of shock on his face when she smacked him hard on the cheek.
"Pull yourself together or I'm going to Tungstern's right now. Without you," she whispered in the calmest voice she could muster. Malfoy pursed his lips. His cheek must've been smarting, but he held his head up high.
For some odd reason, the look in his eyes made her nervous.
"Fine," he spat. "I'll pretend for you."
Ginny frowned, not understanding, but before she could ask him what he meant, he wrapped an arm tightly round her waist, pulled her forwards and marched them into the Great Hall.
The décor was stunning. Flitwick had truly outdone himself. The entire cavernous space exploded with colour and excitement. Every student in Hogwarts gathered together on the dance floor, twirling and shimmying in various states of effort put into their costumes. Loud, bubbly music echoed off the walls, but Ginny couldn't bring herself to enjoy it when Malfoy's hand tightened on her hip, sending unwanted sparks of electricity over her skin that she most certainly didn't shiver at, heart in her throat.
But the fake grin he had plastered over his countenance sent her pulse right down.
"We did well, didn't we?" he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. To anyone watching from the outside, it would've looked like a quiet, intimate moment between a young, handsome couple. But Ginny knew from the venom in his words that this was far, far from it.
What she didn't understand was how Malfoy could suddenly go from the witty, interesting boy she'd met in their first detention to this cruel, biting pureblood in only a short moment's notice.
"Care to dance?" Ginny asked him, her smile not reaching her eyes.
"Absolutely." He took her hand and led her to the dance floor, striking up a smooth-flowing waltz when the song changed.
"We don't really give off the best image, being late for our own ball."
Malfoy raised his eyebrows and pulled her to his chest, fingers splayed over the small of her back so she had no choice but to wrap her arms around his neck and sway with him in time to the music. He smelled of peppermint and fancy leather, and Ginny despised herself for breathing in a little deeper than she should.
"Judging by the looks we're being served, people will have their theories as to why," he murmured. The rumble of his voice sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
They danced the whole song away, black and white costumes painting a picture of perfect aesthetic contrast to one another.
Ginny sensed herself getting lost in the music and the movement. Their proximity was getting dangerous. Unwittingly, she felt her insides slowly melting at the thrill of his touch despite the screams of outrage thrumming in her brain.
"Are you hating this as much as I am?" she inquired, tilting her head back to look him in the face and turn her attention away from the cluster of freckles at the base of his neck that she found hazardously adorable.
"Probably not," he smirked. Ginny rolled her eyes, moving to push him away, but instead he pulled her impossibly closer to him. Her chin fit over his shoulder like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. The skin of his neck was soft, softer than Harry's had ever been-
"What are we doing?" she mumbled into the cloth of his cape. Her cheeks were so red they must've been visible from the other side of the Hall. "Why are we doing this? Together? What have we gotten ourselves into, Malfoy?"
His sigh parted the little hairs on the crown of her head.
"You tell me, Weasley."
They danced till their feet ached, but neither said a single word to the other after that. The tense, unnatural atmosphere pressed down on Ginny from all sides, making her feel small.
Insignificant.
Just another nondescript piece in the cruel, losing game of chess that seemed to represent her life.
But despite all that, she couldn't help but feel disappointed. She told herself she didn't know why and that is was just her silly girlish expectations of the ball she'd worked so hard to bring to life. Yet buried deep beneath the hard shell of denial, a tender, quiet little spot was hurting.
And it was hurting because she'd dared to hope.
Maybe, just maybe, Malfoy was something other than what she knew he was.
What she thought she knew he was.
"A Death Eater never truly changes."
Despite the heavy boulder of anger and frustration balled up in her heart, despite the disparage thrown her way that still stung, despite the knowledge that Malfoy was despicable, always was, always would be-
The words did not ring true like they should have.
And Ginny hated it.
"I'm hungry," she declared, desperate for a distraction from her strange deliberations that made her ache with unfamiliar emotion.
Malfoy nodded and they broke apart, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and hers clenched stiffly by her sides. The food prepared by the kitchens must've been delicious, but it tasted like wet cardboard in Ginny's mouth.
Fear boiled and sloshed around inside of her at every tick of the clock counting down the minutes till they'd disappear. This was nothing like the missions she'd undertaken in the War- not because they weren't dangerous or scary, but because back then, everyone had been fighting for the same thing.
Now, she wasn't even sure what she was fighting for, or if she was fighting at all.
"Tungstern looks pretty occupied at the moment," Malfoy said, raising his cup to his lips. The very giggly looking Professor talked animatedly with an even more giggly looking Hagrid by the other drinks table.
"Teachers are just as bad as we are," Ginny remarked, a little impressed at the wobbly hipflask of firewhisky clenched in Hagrid's meaty fist.
Malfoy gently slipped his delicate hand into hers and a spark jolted through her whole body. She peered up at him with an inscrutable expression.
"Go with it," he mouthed. They made their way through the sea of packed bodies hand in hand, Ginny consciously aware of the dampness trickling down her palm. She prayed he wouldn't notice.
"Oi, Gin!"
Ginny cringed.
"Awesome party!" Seamus' ruddy face was a picture of drunken happiness. "I'm glad you didn't go with me, 'cause then I wouldn't have been able to chat up Parvati like I just did!" He swayed on his feet, leaning into an equally intoxicated Dean who snorted with laughter. Ginny could've smelled the liquor from miles away.
"Glad you like it, Seamus," she said with a tight-lipped smile. Malfoy squeezed her hand, urging her towards the small back door of the Great Hall they were to escape from.
Dean's beaming grin suddenly dropped like the curtain on a theatre stage.
"We're not s'posed to be talking to her, remember?" he scolded, slapping Seamus upside the head. "Bloody numpty. 'Mione's gonna kill us."
"Oh, yeah," Seamus slurred, acting genuinely shocked. "Sorry." His voice dropped to a very loud whisper. "Awesome party."
Dean nodded in approval and tapped his nose.
The cold air blowing through the empty castle corridors seemed to drown out the clamour of the ball Ginny and Malfoy left behind them. It was like stepping into a different world- chilly, drafty and dark. Ginny went to rub her goosebump-riddled arms and did a double-take when she realized she was still holding Malfoy's hand.
"I thought you'd never let go," Malfoy teased. His grey eyes turned the exact hue of polished onyx in the cloudy moonlight.
Ginny wiped her hand on her chiton and suppressed a violent shiver.
"You sweat like a pig," he commented. She chose to ignore him. It was too cold to argue.
The loud music was a faint murmur in the background as they stood before the courtyard, eyeing each other warily.
"There's something I should've shown you before," Ginny said, fishing through her handbag. "I almost forgot about it myself."
Malfoy leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed over his chest. "Keep in mind we have literally no time to waste, Weasley. You can show me your little trinkets later."
A puff of laughter escaped her nose. "Trust me. You'll want to see this trinket."
Her fingers curled around the browned piece of parchment and she waved it about triumphantly.
"Watch this," she smirked. Pulling out her wand, she tapped the front of the paper and muttered the incantation.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Ink blossomed over the crinkled pages and spread like wildfire. She unfurled the parchment and rifled through it while Malfoy watched in silence, not moving from his slouched position against the icy stone.
"Here," she exclaimed, pointing to the two tiny floating labels on the right side of the courtyard- 'Draco Malfoy' and 'Ginevra Weasley.'
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Malfoy drawled.
"Yes, idiot! This map, this brilliant piece of parchment, shows you every secret passage in the school." She let out a loud huff of annoyance. "And, if you haven't noticed, it shows you exactly where every witch and wizard in the whole compound is."
She traced a line above where Argus Filch seemed to be pacing the base of the Astronomy tower, on the lookout for stray couples meandering up to the roof.
"See? Now we know if we're being followed or watched."
She raised her eyes to meet Malfoy's, but was met with one of the most indescribable looks she'd ever seen. It could easily have been jealousy dancing around his pupils, or disgust, or judgement, or even amusement. Yet as she found herself swimming deeper into the intensity of his gaze, something black and hot and angry glittered below the murk. Something that made her hyperaware of how close they'd gotten all of a sudden, how traitorously good it had felt to dance with him despite the hostile atmosphere, how deliciously the smell of peppermint hung on his clothes-
No.
No.
She would not acknowledge her revolting, idiotic, creepy, unnatural thoughts of Draco Malfoy. Even if his skin was soft and warm and nothing like she'd expected-
"The twins or Ronald?" Malfoy asked, not unkindly. Ginny silently thanked him for the interruption.
"Potter," she answered, not bothering to cover up the gloom that emanated from that single word. "He told me he wanted to leave this part of him behind when he went to the Academy. A fresh start, or whatever other rubbish he parrots."
Malfoy nodded in sarcastic approval. "And so he just dropped his guilt on you and ran off to Korea like the great man he is."
"Pretty much."
"Coward," he spat. "I'm no saint but at least I keep my nightmares my own. Not hand them to my girlfriend and leave her without a second thought. Filthy coward."
Ginny didn't know what she was more taken aback at- the fury gushing from his mouth in an almost tangible rage, or that he was sympathising with her.
"Well, it isn't for nothing, right?" Ginny said, straining helplessly for optimism. "We're using this for good. For answers."
"Right," Malfoy said back, face abnormally stony. "For good."
Tungstern's classroom was right on the other side of the castle, but the night was still young. The Marauder's map kept them out of a couple of awkward run-ins with their prefects, and they didn't worry about students going to bed early. They needed this time to unwind.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts classrooms were as ugly and crooked in the nighttime as they were in the day. Filled choc-a-bloc with piles and piles of strange tools, books and artefacts, it was almost dizzying to walk through the narrow archway and into the stuffed, overflowing space.
"Well, this is gonna be easy," Ginny muttered under her breath.
They started with the shelves at the back and decided to work their way forward. Ginny described what she knew of the stolen item as best she could. It wasn't very much.
"What do you mean you didn't see what was in it?" Malfoy groaned, practically tearing his hair out in frustration when she told him for the umpteenth time she had no idea what was in the jar Tungstern had pilfered.
"I'm doing my best here, alright?" Ginny had snapped back. The air was sweaty with pent-up nerves. To make matters worse, Ginny's shoulders had entered a semi-permanent state of shivering with cold.
Fed up, Malfoy finally unclipped his cape and thrust it onto her like a warm, slippery shadow.
"Be careful. That's a Weasley annual salary you've got on there."
He narrowly missed permanent brain damage when Ginny lobbed the heaviest book she could get her hands on right between his eyes.
"You're not funny, ferret."
"Sure I'm not."
They searched for a solid fifteen minutes, going through crates and boxes of bottled herbs, none of them familiar to Ginny.
"What the bloody hell is this?" she screeched, pushing away a hideous jar of what looked like pickled human eyeballs.
"Looks like pickled human eyeballs," Malfoy said flatly. As they combed through another shelf of assorted junk, the bright, harsh beam of light teased the corner of Ginny's eye. On the other side of the room, hidden behind a cabinet draped with curtains, was half a glass jar in the exact shape of the one Ginny had caught Tungstern with that fateful day in the dungeons. A solitary ray of moonlight bounced off of it.
She nudged Malfoy in the ribs and stood up, clasping the cape around her neck and hurrying over to the cabinet. A sick, wet excitement had grasped her chest. It tightened when she caught a glimpse of the brown label previously hidden to her.
'Boiled Essence of Ragwort,' it read.
Ginny wrapped her hands around the neck of the bottle and scrutinized its pale, shimmering contents. A silvery liquid- the thing that must've caught her eye- glittered at the bottom of the glass in a heavy sediment of some sort. Above it, twigs of yellow root and green pollen floated around limply, as if they'd been soaked in brine and kept from drying.
Ginny had never seen anything like it.
"This is it," she told Malfoy breathlessly. He took the jar from her outstretched hands and turned it over in his own. "This is definitely what Tungstern stole from Beckett's storeroom."
"It's definitely what he was arguing with Beckett about in the corridor, too," he murmured. Not raising his eyes, he placed the jar on the ground and clenched his fists.
"Do you know what this is? The contents of the jar, I mean."
Ginny shook her head no, biting the inside of her cheek.
"Am I supposed to?"
Malfoy gave a strained smile and looked out the window. "No. Merlin, no."
Ginny chewed her cheek harder.
"… you made it, and that's a crime in itself..."
"Gerry, I don't know what you're talking about…"
"I have people that can ruin you..."
"... a crime in itself..."
"What I do know is that it must mean trouble," she whispered.
Malfoy's face was the picture of discomfort. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, eyeing the jar like it contained something nuclear- which, for all they knew, it did.
"Why the hell would Beckett have this in the dungeons?" he asked, mostly to himself.
"You did notice how confused she was about it, didn't you?" Ginny mused. "She had no idea what Tungstern was talking about."
Malfoy waved her off flippantly.
"Yeah, yeah…"
"No, Malfoy, listen to me," Ginny repeated. "She had no idea what Tungstern was talking about."
It dawned on his face like a match struck in the dark.
"Oh, Merlin."
Ginny chewed her cheek so hard that a spurt of warm scarlet dissolved over her tongue. She moved on to her nails.
"Why would Tungstern pretend to steal his own jar from the dungeons? To put the blame on her?"
Malfoy shook his head. "There is no way Tungstern could've brewed something like that." He pointed to the jar with an accusing finger. "Beckett definitely made it. She's one of the most talented potion-masters in the world. She made it-"
"-but against her will," Ginny finished, breathing out heavily. "Surely she would know if she was forced to brew it, though."
"Not if she was under the Imperius Curse," Malfoy said, voice darker than the shadows pooling around them as the night grew ripe.
Ginny had to sit down. The shocking information bombarding her senses was too much to handle.
In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four.
"So, you're saying," she clarified shakily, "that Tungstern put Beckett under the Imperius Curse- an Unforgivavable- forced her to make this Rag-whatsit, stole it from her stores and then threatened to tell the Ministry about it if she didn't comply to the rest of what he wants?"
"Yes," Malfoy said. That one word chilled Ginny's bones to icicles.
"Oh, Godric."
They sat in silence for a while, trying and failing to process the sudden bombshell they'd been hit with unprepared for. Malfoy moved to say something, but Ginny's sudden widening of eyes cut him off. A solitary set of footprints wandered up their corridor on the Marauder's Map like the bad omen they were.
"Tungstern," she hissed.
Malfoy moved quicker than Ginny could react.
One moment they were sitting speechlessly on the smooth parquet, and the next he'd pulled her up, spun her around and pinned her back against the wall, one hand on her waist and the other hitching her leg over his hip.
"Don't think," he ordered, and before Ginny could even screech in outrage, he buried his face into her neck and fisted her auburn curls between his fingers.
The explosive contact of his lips on her skin dried the scream as it was forming in her throat. She opened her mouth but no sound came out, only a low gurgle of surprise. Her hands went to the nape of his neck and her eyes fluttered closed, relishing the warm feeling of his kisses despite the alarm bells of disgust ringing in her head-
"What in Merlin's name is goin' on here?!"
The cold air hitting Ginny's skin when Malfoy moved his face away came like a slap.
"Professor Tungstern, sir, let me explain-"
"GET YOUR RUDDY TEENAGE ARSES OUT OF MY CLASSROOM. NOW!"
Malfoy gulped and pulled Ginny off the wall, sending a quick unspoken charm to the jar on the floor that returned to the shelf before Tungstern had time to see it. His eyes bulged hideously out of his head and his one balled hand shook with rage.
"IF I EVER CATCH YOU TWO IN HERE AGAIN I SWEAR TO MERLIN I'LL-"
They were gone before he had time to finish, hearts in their mouths and costumes flapping wildly in the freezing Halloween wind.
xxx
The clock struck one.
Ginny's chiton lay in a heap on the girls' dormitory floor. She rubbed her hands together in front of the crackling log fire of the Head study room, refusing to meet the angry stare of the boy sitting behind her. Under normal circumstances, she'd be embarrassed to have changed into her Holyhead Harpies pajamas and worn them to their shared quarters, but these were hardly normal circumstances. She'd just found out that Tungstern was a potential criminal performing secret acts of Dark Magic right under her and McGonagall's noses.
And Malfoy had-
He had-
He had-
"I can feel you staring at me," Ginny snapped, training her eyes on the hot, glowing coals at the bottom of the grate. She sensed his frustration radiating off of him in waves.
"Giving me the silent treatment is not going to solve anything, you little twit," he growled.
"Calling me a twit isn't going to solve anything, either," she replied coolly.
"I already said I'm sorry. I did what I did because I had no choice. What other reason would a boy and a girl be sneaking around an abandoned classroom for?"
Ginny scoffed.
"Ginny," Malfoy began, stringing out the last threads of his patience over the obstinate girl poking the tongs around the burning logs before him. She bristled at the use of her name.
"Weasley," he tried again. "Listen to me. I know I should've asked you before grabbing you like that. I know, and I apologise. But what you don't seem to get is that if I hadn't done it as quickly as I had, Tungstern would be pickling our eyeballs right now! You have no idea what that man was capable of when he was a Death Eater-"
"Still is," Ginny muttered.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said," she bit, voice rising louder than necessary, "he still is!"
Malfoy's eyebrows drew together in apprehension.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" he asked in his most delicate voice despite the growing darkness that blazed away in the middle of his pupils. Ginny laughed- a harsh sound that scraped her throat.
"I'm not angry with you, Malfoy," she snorted, refusing to address his question that hung over them like a looming cloud of dread. His face went completely and utterly still. "I don't care that you pushed me. That's the least of my worries."
She finally turned round, a cruel smile fixed to her red, blotchy face.
"I'm appalled, my dear ferret. Not angry- Godric, no. Just a healthy dose of disgust is all." She spat out the words like they were made of poison.
"Don't talk to me about disgust," Malfoy said indignantly, leaning forward in his armchair to sneer at her. "I didn't even kiss you and I feel like gargling with bleach."
"See!" Ginny crowed, waving her hand around in triumph. "This is what I've been saying! I have a question, Head Boy. Why have you been acting so weird lately?"
Malfoy sneered even wider.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, tone as smooth as silk.
"Fine, let me be more specific," Ginny sing-songed. "Why have you been attacking me all evening but dancing with me and holding my hand? Why have you been a selfish, cruel, nasty, bullying git all my life, but today you pretend to have been kissing me to save your reputation?"
She paused, assessing the best way to communicate the hundreds of thoughts whizzing up a hurricane about her brain.
"These past few weeks you've definitely been, well… more bearable than I've ever known you capable to be. But at the same time, you get these- I don't know- sporadic bursts where you suddenly revert back to the old Draco. And you know what I've realized?"
She paused again, but this time to grin.
"He still is a Death Eater!"
Peals of her sarcastic laughter sullied the atmosphere. When she finally gained control of hrself, the sound of furious, bubbling emotion stewing in both of their hearts began to grate on Ginny's nerves.
"Is that what you think of me?" came Malfoy's quiet voice. "Is it?"
"It is," Ginny sniffed, her temper still at temperatures well above boiling.
"Now, I have a question for you, Ginny," Malfoy said in that same quiet voice. "What is a Death Eater?"
Ginny blanched. "Did I just hear you correctly?"
"You did indeed." The gentle speech that flowed from his lips was so disconcerting Ginny almost allowed herself to calm down a bit.
"A Death Eater is a follower of Voldemort, genius. Why are you asking me-"
"What does that make them?" he interrupted candidly. "So they're a follower of the Dark Lord. What does that make them, as a person?"
"I don't know-"
"What does it make them?"
"A bad person!"
It slipped out, wonky and childish, before she had time to bite it back.
"Another question," Malfoy asked, remaining neutral and level-headed. "What do you know of the old Draco?" He treated the words like feral animals. "You never cared. You never noticed. I'll bet you never even saw me."
"I saw the way you treated my brother, my family. I saw the way you treated Harry," Ginny leered, walls springing right up.
"Oh, so now you're defending him?" Malfoy asked, still quiet, still calm. He sounded almost curious until his lip turned up in the faintest of curls. "How very predictable."
Something big and ugly reared its head in Ginny's chest.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm defending him. You know why? Because I love him. Even though I bloody hate him, I love him. But you wouldn't understand that, would you?" She narrowed her eyes at him, practically baring her teeth. "Would you?"
"Do you think I'm a bad person, Ginny?"
He was almost as bad as Tungstern.
"Ginny?"
"Stop calling me that!"
"Do you?"
"I-"
Ginny was at loss for words. She felt spent, every ounce of her anger wasted on him. He he wouldn't break.
Despite everything, she did see how he'd make a very, very good spy.
"I don't know. You're not a good person, that's for sure."
"But am I a bad person?" A shaky breath rattled in his chest. "You of all people should be gracious enough to understand that people are complicated. There is no good or bad. No black or white. Only grey."
"What are you now, a philosopher?"
"I'm real!" Malfoy cried, giving in at last. "I'm giving you reality! No one is just a Death Eater. No one is just a bad person. And no one is a monster."
He continued with an acidic bite to his tone.
"I'm sorry I'm not the perfect make-believe Prince Charming Harry was. I'm sorry I'm not the up to the standard you conjure up to please yourself because you can't face the world."
Ginny opened her mouth to retaliate but was unable to form words, simply gaping like a fish at the slam of denial that hit her soul like a battering ram.
"I'm sorry I'm too real for you to handle."
"I don't understand," she said, voice hoarse with emotion.
She didn't understand.
Did she?
Malfoy smiled at her. He looked almost kind.
"You will. One day. If you'll never trust me with anything, please trust me with that."
He left Ginny with a dry, dust filled mouth and an empty, hollow heart.
xxx
a/n: and now I present to you…. (drum roll please)…. angst! TAA-DAA! And dare I say a little bit of chemistry ;) minus, the whole, you know, entire scene I just wrote.
Wow. This story is not going how I expected it to, but I'm definitely here for it. Thank you Ghostwriter71 sosososososo much for your reviews, they're my favourite. And only… but still, my favourite :D