Title: The Truth About Trees

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Bla. Sorry about not posting this for so long. I've had it written for about 2 months now (along with the next 2 chapters) I just didn't feel like typing them up. I feel uninspired. This story seems like it is getting so bloody cliched. Bah. Whatever. On with the story. Oh, I own nothing. But then, how could you forget??

The Truth About Trees

Chapter 5

Let it Snow!

It was a week after my conversation about trees with Malfoy that Hermione approached me. During the week I had told Harry a few things that were bothering me about her. He had asked and they had just sort of slipped out.

That tends to happen to me when I'm angry. Like how I insulted Malfoy about a month ago when he as only trying to help. But for him to have just brushed me off and say that he was used to that sort of thing still boggles my mind. How could you be used to that sort of thing? I think Malfoy's life is more troubled than he lets on. I have a feeling that all those problems start at home . . .

Anyways, I was telling you about Hermione, wasn't I? Sorry. Well yes, she approached me saying we had to talk. It turns out that the rift between her and Harry had been troubling her so she attempted to talk to him. They got into an argument, as they have often been doing lately, and Harry told her off using me as an example as one of the 'everyone's that have a problem with her.

She ranted and raved for a bit and I tried to respond to her as honestly as possible. That was difficult though since I agreed with most of the stuff people have been saying about her. She was complaining a lot lately. And she was not trying to make others happy over herself. It was all her.

When she finally asked how I felt about all of it I told her flat out: I feel used. She paused at this, seeming to think, then began an explanation turning my feelings into her problem until it had to do with something about her and Harry rather my feeling used. I don't see how that works. How can my feeling used have anything to do with her problems with Harry?! Harry and her arguing, making her feel like shit does not make me feel used! Being the go-between for their arguing does. But then, that's not what she meant.

And so we got along for a whole day before the cycle started over again. The distancing between us. Harry trying hard to engage me in conversation and me feeling like I had no one to talk to. It was maddening!

Which leads me up to where I am now, looking at a note my friend Sara has left me. Turns out she has noticed my being down lately and has opted to help me out. In other words I am her new candidate to be her guinea pig.

There was a little explanation as to what she was going to do and what we ourselves had to do to make it happen. Then she drew a little picture of my new hair and it was colored blonde. How can a blonde have freckles like mine?

"So what do you think?" she asked after I had found her for Sunday brunch. "Isn't it a great idea?"

"I'm not going blonde," I said flatly, sitting across from her.

"Oh come on, Gin," she insisted. "It'll be great. We'll dye your hair and get you some make-up and some new clothes. It'll be a whole new you! And you'll look so pretty!"

"Yes to everything else but the dye," I said firmly. My red hair is a part of me. I'm not about to give it up to be new and pretty. As long as I feel pretty that's all that matters.

"Fine," Sara sighed grumpily. "We'll leave it red. For now." I let out a little sigh of relief.

"Sounds good," I replied. "When do we start then?"

"How about after brunch?" she offered. "I've finished all me homework. How about you?" I nodded then we proceeded to quickly eat our food. We were soon in a bathroom that no one ever really uses anyway. She's in Ravenclaw so we couldn't very well use out own dorm rooms.

"These are the make-up charms I dug up," she told me, handing me a sheet of paper covered in simple charms. "They're nothing too drastic. Just subtle stuff. You know, to emphasis the best qualities of your face." I nodded. If they're subtle, then what's the point?

"And here's the hair," she said, flashing a magazine page at me. The girl with the blonde bob winked at me. The cut was rather cute. "Now don't worry. I do hair charms all the time. They're one of my specialties," Sara reassured me.

"I have complete and utter trust in your abilities," I smiled at her.

Sara wasn't exactly your typical Ravenclaw. She was blonde and, well, nice. In other words she was really smart but didn't exactly look or act it. There really wasn't any other house to put her in. Not brave enough for Gryffindor, too kind for Slytherin and too smart for Hufflepuff. In other words she was an oddball who was known across the school for her friendliness. And she was funny to boot.

"Ok," she said, pulling out her wand. She gave me a wicked grin. "Bye, bye hair!"

With a flick, a swish and a wiggle of her wand, I felt my hair get substantially lighter. Sara walked around me, pulling a little here and there. The she smiled broadly. "Prefect."

I looked at the floor and gasped. My red hair was everywhere. A good foot had come off and now lay at me feet. I felt a pang of distress in my heart. I had been growing it for the past five years.

"Merlin," I muttered, stooping in an attempt to pick it up.

"Don't look at the past, Ginny," Sara said sternly, using a charm to clean the hair away before I could get my hands on it. "Look towards the future." With that she grabbed my shoulders and directed me to a mirror.

I looked at me reflection and gasped once again. It was me, but the Ginny staring back looked older and more alive that the one I remembered. I gently touched it then began to smile widely.

"Do you like it?" Sara asked.

"Like it?" I demanded. "I love it! Thank you so much!" I gave the girl a hug, making her laugh.

"No problem, Gin," she said happily then glanced down at her watch. "Oh dear. I completely forgot. I'm supposed to meet Hannah in the library."

"Abbott?" I asked, placing the name with the girl in my potions class.

"Ya," Sara agreed. "Turns out the dear has a bit of a problem with Transfiguration. Oh well. I'll see you later Ginny."

She left. Leaving me with my new hair cut and a list of make-up charms. I tried them all out only deciding to keep about half. At least for now anyway.

When I returned to the Common Room Harry, Hermione and Ron were sitting by the fire, seeming to be in a heated discussion. I didn't want to hear about it so I crept up to my dorm and grabbed my cloak and scarf.

They didn't notice me travelling either way and I silently thanked who ever was in charge. I know Ron would have made a big deal over my hair or sudden lack-there-of. Harry, well I don't know about Harry. He always told me that he thought girls should have long hair. Hermione would be all fake happy and excited. Or perhaps it would be genuine, but I don't really care either way. I don't want to put up with it anymore.

It's colder outside now. But we're entering December now so I can't expect it to be like summer anymore. It's all rather depressing. The once colored leaves falling off the trees and lying dead on the ground. That's really how a part of me feels. Dead. Or at least the part of me who trusted Hermione and Harry. I'm sick of being stuck in the middle of the two of them. It's not fair. It's no-

"Weasley," someone called and I looked about. There wasn't anyone around, but I knew I had heard Malfoy's voice. So I looked up. Sure enough, that was Malfoy sitting on a tree branch about fifteen feet up.

"Wasn't this the other way around last weekend?" I called up, fighting off a grin. "But I hope you know I wont be able to catch you."

He looked down at me but he wasn't smile. "Stop screaming," he said. "Either come up here or go away."

That's new. Well not exactly, but he hasn't snapped at me like that in weeks. Something must be up. That or he didn't get enough sleep. So with a worried feeling in the pit of my stomach I began to climb the tree. It was no easy task I tell you. Being in a short skirt, nylons and a robe is not exactly the best thing to be wearing when climbing a tree. They all tend to catch on different things at the same time. Which proves a point: you can not have an adventure in a skirt.

I did get up to that branch though. A little out of breath from having to pry my clothes free from the branches but none worse for wear. Malfoy was looking at me oddly.

"What?" I asked, settling myself next to him, straightening my skirt.

"Nothing," he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I never thought you knew that many foul words though."

"Oh," I said, feeling myself blush. "Sorry about that." He smirked at me and I offered him a weak smile. "So, why are you up here?"

"Just thinking," he replied, looking out at the lake. It was quite a nice view up here.

"About anything impiticular?" I asked, looking at him. He looked pale. But the he's always pale. Perhaps it was just the dim, overcast light, but he seemed paler than usual. Maybe he was sick.

"Not really," he replied, not looking at me. I couldn't really think of anything to say to that and let him continue thinking in peace.

He was dressed in his cloak and scarf as well. The green and silver contrasting nicely with his hair. His hair looked so soft. But I didn't dare reach out and touch it. I didn't just think that.

It was then that I noticed it. A piece of parchment sticking out of his cloak pocket. It seemed well read. I say this because it was rather crumpled looking. Maybe he just got angry at it. Either way it caught my attention.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the parchment. How rude. How could I just ask?

"Huh?" he asked distractedly, glancing down to what I was pointing at. "Nothing really," he replied when he saw what I was pointing at.

"Do you mind?" I asked as I reached for it. He didn't respond so I pulled it out. It had been crumpled. Several times.

I unfolded it and smoothed it out on my lap. It was written in ink so green it was almost black in a fancy, well practiced script.

Draco,

I know you are going through a difficult stage of your life right now. I went through it myself. But everyday you become stronger, moving closer to your prime. Do not ignore it. Do not shun the opportunity to become more than you are. Study deeper in the ways I have taught when you were young. Embrace the power of the Dark Arts.

You have potential, Draco. There is a strength in you that few poses. The Dark Lord has seen it as well. He is anticipating your union with our clan. I know you will succeed if you put your mind to it. I know you will make me proud. For your sake I hope that you get your head out of the clouds, my son, and face your reality. When you come home for Christmas we will discuss this further.

You're mother and I look forward to seeing you over the holidays.

Lucius

I felt my mouth fall open and I stared at the words blankly. Then I read it again. Maybe I had read them wrong. Nope. Still the same terrible words. The same horrible implications. I felt me hands beginning to shake.

"Draco," I whispered, turning to look at him wide-eyed. "Is he . . ."

"Serious?" he offered. I nodded. "Deadly."

"But you can't-" I stammered. "You can't- I mean-" I cut off, looking away. I sounded like an idiot and probably looked like one too.

It all made sense now. His quietness. His abrasiveness. His cold attitude. He was acting out. Somehow I think I always knew it. I had also known his father was a terrible person. I never thought that he would expect his son to carry on his legacy. Well perhaps I had, but I don't think I meant it seriously.

"Weasley. Say something," he drawled quietly. I shook my head slightly and looked at him quizzically. "You've been silent for the last five minutes. You're making me nervous."

"Sorry," I whispered, fighting off the sudden urge to give him a hug. I don't think a hug will improve his situation much. "You're not going to, you know . . ." I finally managed after a moment.

"Become a Death Eater?" he sneered coldly. "Get the Dark Mark? Get branded like some bloody cattle?" His voice was so cold, so full of resentment that I felt myself shiver. "I told you Weasley," he drawled, and I sensed him turning to look at me. "I told you I don't want to be anything like that bastard. Not in a million years. And that includes becoming a Death Eater."

I stared down at my hands which were twisting violently in my lap. What could I say to that. Oh, that's nice. So no tea with the Dark Lord then? Please! This is the real world. Not some cheesy teen novel.

"Weasley, look at me," he said softly, the coldness and resentment gone from his voice. Well not gone exactly, more like pulled back to some dark place where he kept it locked down.

Slowly I turned to look at him, raising my eyes slowly. It's stupid really. I'm scared of what I'll see. What if he's lying? What then? What if I've come to trust a Death Eater? But then, what if he's not? What then?

I finally met his eyes and nearly gasped for a third time today. He was looking at me intently, as though trying to convey his honesty by simply looking. It was the freest of restraint I had ever seen his face. But now I understood why that restraint was there. He couldn't very well go around telling people he didn't believe in his father. They wouldn't believe him at all or worse, they'd kill him.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, finding my voice after a long pause. "I'm sorry your father's such an asshole. I'm sorry if I never tried to understand." I paused then added: "It's not fair."

"Nothing in life is fair, Weasley," he drawled, smirking a bit, causing something in my chest to jerk. "It wouldn't be any fun if it was."

~*~

I can't believe I let her find out! How could I have been so stupid? So idiotic?! If my father ever finds out it won't be good. He'll freak. He'll kill me. No, severely punish me within an inch of my life. He'll kill her. Great going Draco. Perfect. She didn't have enough problems of her own so you thought you'd just give her some of yours.

But lately everything's been getting to me. My father's letters are getting more and more insistent. So has the idiocy of my friends. I can't take it. And I really don't have anyone to turn to.

I feel caged. Bared in. I keep finding myself pacing about. I wonder if this is how a lion feels in a Muggle zoo. Knowing that he can be so much more than the bars will allow. Pacing and returning to his point of origin two seconds later. What would a lifetime of it be like? Withering away until there is nothing left but an over sized cat no longer willing to fight. I think I would go insane. But then, unlike the lion, I think I might have a chance to escape those bars.

Perhaps that's why I let Weasley find out. A secret is easier to carry if there's a second person to lighten the load. And the cage did seen a bit bigger than before. Albeit by a little bit, but now someone knows. Someone knows I am not a terrible person.

I think I scared her really. I doubt she ever thought my father had such plans for me. In that way she seems quite innocent despite her own run in with the Dark Lord. I've never met him myself, but I've spied on a few of my father's gatherings and seen what my life could be like. I've seen enough to know that I don't want to live a life like that.

Yet still I feel quite guilty in a way for getting her involved. Which is new for me. I don't often feel guilty for any reason. But I just keep seeing her reaction playing over and over in my head. I can't go back and change it. And even if I could I don't think the selfish part of me would allow it. It really is quite a relief to have told someone.

Yet at what price? At the cost of her safety? If my father ever finds out . . . Well, I just wont let it happen. And if by the off chance that it does, well, I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

Our Monday's potion class was strained and awkward. Neither of us made any attempt to insult the other. My guilty conscience (I still can't get over that) preventing any words and I am assuming something similar was preventing hers.

I think Snape noticed. He kept looking at us oddly as he explained our new unit: antidotes. This doesn't really bother me. I know for a fact that he is only pretending to play both sides for Voldemort. This comes from more observation and spying. He's just bitter. But the full extent of his bitterness is lost on me. And it is not exactly healthy to ask him. I might be in his good books but even I could never get away with that.

I had a dream once where I was Snape. It was very peculiar. He was laughing at Potter who has this ridiculous, laughing turban on his head. And then it was me laughing at him. No one disrupted me that morning so I managed to remember that much of it.

I've always been a strong believer that our dreams tell us things. Not that I have any faith in divination. Actually I think that's a load of crap. But dreams, dreams are our subconscious talking to us. A whole level of our minds that is free from the pressures, implications and conformity of our world. It just watches all day and they has it's free reign at night when we sleep. To torment us with nightmares if it's angry or to reward us with pleasant dreams if it is content.

More often than not though, the dreams are warnings about something it has seen the signs for. I didn't realize it right away, but I think that that particular dream was an omen that if I didn't get off the path I was on I would be doomed to live alike like Snape's. Join the Death Eaters as a way of seeking power or glory. Do terrible, horrible things that I don't even want to fathom. Then break way, find someone who believes in me like Dumbeldore and spend the rest of my pathetic life trying to redeem myself. Greasy hair and all.

By lunch time it had begun to snow. Not quite in large quantities but more a steady stream. Most people were excited by this. But to me it was just another sign of my impending family gathering over the holidays.

It was on Thursday though that something occurred that caused me to forget me own problems for a while. I'll give you three guesses as to whom it concerned. The first two don't count.

I was on my way to the library to do a bit of research for a herbology essay when I was about to round a corner. Angry voices around it made me stop. Not that I'm scared to walk in on a pair of bickering girls, but it was Weasley's voice I heard. And Granger. I stood there alone, listening, not daring to poke my head around the corner to see what was happening.

"Who do you mean," I heard Weasley hiss. "What is wrong with me lately?"

"You cut your hair all off for one," Granger said heatedly.

"I needed a change," Weasley growled back. "And since when is it a crime to cut one's hair?"

"You've been growing it for five years Ginny and I know yours takes forever to grow." To me Granger seemed to be trying to force logic on Weasley. I personally thought the short hair was a nice change. Not that I would utter it aloud. I do have my Malfoy pride to take care of.

"If I didn't know better," Granger said slowly. "I'd say you were trying to impress someone."

"What?!" I heard Weasley shriek. Quite loudly I might add. "What the hell do you mean by that?!"

"You know exactly what I mean," Granger hissed coldly.

"No. No I don't," Weasley responded in much the same tone. I moved closer to the corner.

"You're jealous," Granger claimed as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're jealous of Ron and I."

"I'm jealous of my brother and you?" Weasley sneered. "Oh, that's rich."

"I don't see why you don't just get your own boyfriend," Granger continued. "I know Harry's rather fond of you. You're all he ever talked about while we were going out."

"You bitch!" Weasley shrieked, louder than before. "How dare you? How fucking dare you?! Harry's not good enough got you, Miss I'm So Fucking Perfect. So hey, why not give him to Ginny? She's a Weasley after all. She's poor. She's used to bloody hand-me-downs. Why not your fucking-"

"Weasley!" Snape's voice suddenly thundered through the hall. "Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

"What about her?!" she raged, totally taking me off guard. Weasley? Talking back to a Professor? She must have taken Snape by surprise as well for it was a moment before I heard his voice again.

"Twenty more points for talking back," he growled, anger resonating in his voice. "And detention."

"But she-" Weasley began again.

"I don't care," Snape hissed. "Now get out of my sight. Both of you. Before I decide to take any more points."

The sound of running feet greeted my ears and before I knew what was happening I was flat on my ass. Weasley had just bowled me over.

"Malfoy?" she asked in disbelief, pulling herself up off the ground. Her eyes were brimming with angry tears and I felt that feeling in my chest again.

"Weasley-" I started.

"Get out of my way," she said angrily, her voice cracking and she pushed past me and disappeared down the hall.

~*~

I couldn't believe it. How could that bloody asshole give me a detention?! Hermione was just as much at fault as I was. But then of course the bloody bitch went decidedly silent when Snape arrived. Bloody bitch. I'll show her.

And to add to my humiliation, I think Malfoy was listening to the whole thing around the corner. And I sure as hell am not going to let him see me cry. Not in a million years.

After potions on Friday, Snape pulled be aside and told me I would be serving my detention doing chores for Filch. So now, her I am, shoveling all the snow around the castle with a bloody Muggle shovel. All of it! And it just snowed like there was no tomorrow all last night up until lunch. How convenient, eh?

Oh life sucks. I've been at it for an hour and already I ache all over. My fingers are frozen and my headband isn't helping my ear much. I don't even remember when I stopped feeling my toes.

Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.

Oh. What fun. Bloody slave labor this is.

It's already dark out too. Bloody daylight's savings time. The forest looks darker in the winter. More foreboding. I haven't really heard anything else about the fifth years. I'm not even exactly clear on who they were. Only that they got dragged in there by someone. Or something.

What a creepy thought. Being dragged into the forest by something. Even while traveling in a group.

Wait a minute. What was that? Nothing Ginny. You're seeing things. Stop thinking about it. You're just going to creep yourself out. And there's still the whole East Side to do. But the East Side runs closest to the forest . . .

Don't think about it! Stop it!

Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel-

Something landed on my shoulder. I did the only thing I could do: I screamed.

~*~

A/N: Ha! Cliffhanger! Take that! Just jokes. Anyhoo, I know, always drag the story back to Ginny. But it's hard to keep in a Malfoyish state of mind. But soon I tell ya, soon there will be a higher Draco concentration. Really! Oh stop looking at me like that!

Thanks to: Lucia Dreams(It hurts, but sometimes it's worth it), VirtualFaerie(I like cookies. ~grin~), Crystal, Mytsie-Sama(One can never see LotR too many times. Mmm…Legoals), Lallie(And you would know about the walking into them right? Just jokes. I was wondering how long it would take you. But I'm straying from that plot line. Nothing has happened really to inspire me. Hopefully there will be nothing else.), Weasley Pride(Good choice), Selvagem(Perhaps it takes a bit of time before the revelation comes? Like a delay??), oliverwoodsgirl(Not enough Draco, I know. But thanks) and GinnyGINvampire00 aka Evon(The Addy's a very long story, so don't ask. And you will just have to wait like everyone else. ~grin~).

Please review, it really helps me to know if I'm going in the right direction or not. Bah.

Oh, and please read Lallie and I's collab story. It's under the name: Bitter is Better