Chapter 4

She'd kill him, she vowed. She would take Ron's Beater's club, walk up to him in the Great Hall, and break his knees. Then she would proceed to smash his hated, arrogant, smug, sneering face in. Ginny had spent most of the night tossing and turning, almost in a state of shock. She still couldn't believe what he'd drawn!

Ginny had been pleasantly surprised at the portrait of Narcissa Malfoy. It had not shown the woman Ginny was used to seeing. It had shown what Draco Malfoy obviously saw when he looked at her. The eyes were softer, caring and concerned. The mouth was just a bit weak, but looked as though it could be firm if need be. And the woman's hair was not the sculpted perfection it always was when she was in public. It was slightly windblown and mussed. In all, it was a loving portrait and it had touched Ginny deeply.

Then she'd turned the page. There was a picture of Ginny, face only, staring out of troubled eyes. Another was of her head and shoulders, but obviously nude, accurate right down to her freckles and the small scar she'd earned trying to play Quidditch with her brothers. Another of her eyes only, or her hands, or her from the back, with her hair up in the messy knot she'd had in the loo. There were others as well, as Ginny flipped the pages. In her robes, in the Great Hall, sitting with just a trace of her slip showing. And there were many of her in various stages of undress. One of her wearing her blouse, but untucked and unbuttoned, with just a hint of her bra visible. Ginny had grown more pale and more shocked as she looked. Why was he drawing her? Who had he shown the drawings to? The sketches were much too accurate to be put down to imagination; Ginny noted with horror that they were almost all confined to what he'd actually seen, which was quite enough to make anyone looking assume that she and Malfoy were, or had been sleeping together! But the biggest shock came when she looked at the last picture. It took the entire page and had obviously been worked on at length.

The picture showed the wall of the loo on the train. There was the sink and faucet, and the mirror and paper towel rack. That wasn't what nearly caused Ginny to faint, though. It was what was reflected in the mirror. Malfoy's pencil had cleverly sketched as though the viewer was standing in front of the subjects, watching them, or, more accurately, as though one of the subjects was watching himself in the mirror. For the reflection showed Ginny standing in front of the mirror, wearing only the pale bra and her skirt, as she had been. But there was a boy standing behind her. The boy was wearing his robe and had his face buried in Ginny's neck, as though nuzzling her. Ginny's image had her head thrown back against the boy's shoulder, with one arm looped up and back, holding him there. God, Malfoy had even caught the fact that she didn't shave, one of her mother's odd restrictions which she planned to rectify immediately she turned eighteen! There was a very light dusting of soft hair drawn into her armpit! Ginny had shuddered as she continued to examine the drawing. Her other arm was draped across her abdomen, covering the boy's right arm. His left arm was also wrapped around her, but higher, with his hand splayed over her ribs and his thumb and forefinger barely touching the front clasp of the bra. Even though the face of the boy was obscured, Ginny could guess who it was supposed to be. The height and pale hair would have been a dead giveaway, but the clincher was the large, gaudy signet ring on the left hand!

Ginny had stared at the picture, feeling waves of shame and anger wash over her. The others were bad enough, but how dared Malfoy to draw her in some smutty pose with himself! His face was obscured, but hers was painfully exposed, and the look on it was disgusting. He'd made her look like a lust- crazed tramp! It was obvious enough now what he thought of her. He must think her cheap and easy! He watched her so he could make his drawings more accurate!

That had been last night. The first wave of anger had worn off, but now she was seething. She would not let him get away with this! What if someone else had found the sketchbook before her? They would think she'd posed for those sketches! And Malfoy would probably revel in her humiliation! She'd bloody well kill the bastard!

As she lay in her bed, listening to the sounds of her roommates sleeping, she plotted. She realized she really couldn't just walk up to him and beat him with a club, much as she'd like to. But what could she do? How could she get even? Could she use the drawings to turn the tables on him? Embarrass him for being obsessed with a girl who's family he hated? Because even though the drawings were loathsome to her, they were very good, and they suggested a fixation. Ginny shuddered, despite the warmth of her bed. The thought of Malfoy fixated on her was frightening! She thought about the last picture, and shivered, telling herself it was with disgust. It was not because the picture of Malfoy wrapped around her, in a typical lover's pose had caused her to flush with some unknown emotion. It simply was not!

After an hour of thinking, Ginny finally came up with a plan.

Some months earlier, Draco Malfoy's life had been fairly simple. Get through the first term at Hogwarts and be rewarded by going to Durmstrang. He'd, not unexpectedly, anticipated that nothing would happen to disturb the normal flow of his life. That had changed abruptly when he'd walked in on Ginny Weasley.

On the carriage from the station to the castle, he'd had to listen to Vince Crabbe drone on and on about the pathetic events of his summer. Draco had firmly put his sketchpad away, but had still found his hands itching. He would happily have strangled Crabbe, but Crabbe's droning voice offered at least some distraction from Draco's own confused thoughts.

After dinner, Draco had gone to his room, now extremely empty with only himself, Crabbe, and Terry Boot. He couldn't understand the problem. He'd seen lots of girls (well, he amended, at least five or six) in the nude, or various stages of nudity. His taste ran to slender, but shapely girls with drop dead faces, gorgeous clothing and lots of money. His own looks and wealth had helped a lot, but more than that was his aloofness when it came to wooing the opposite sex. He didn't woo. And they seemed to like his hard-to-get manner, which wasn't faked. He WAS hard to get! As he thought, he'd tried to visualize even one of the girls he'd been with, but found the image of that damned skinny beanpole getting in the way! And why, he asked himself angrily? She wasn't above fair looking, she had no figure, and, hell, she was almost as tall as he! And her underthings weren't even decently sexy! Most of the girls he'd gone out with had been addicted to those 'fuck me' knickers in bright red, shining gold or silver, or wispy black lace. Or the ones that left nothing to the imagination like the demi-bras, the crotchless knickers, or the one-piece body suits.

Ginny Weasley's bra had been in a horrible pale blue that made her already fair skin take on the marble hue of death! It had been of some synthetic fabric that was modest and almost (but not quite!) girlish. At least it hadn't had any bows or hearts on it. But it had been a front fastener! His pulse had raced just thinking of how simple it would have been to reach out and flip the thing open! But then what? She had almost no bust, no waist, and probably no hips. Built like a flipping boy! So why had the sight of her modest little bra strap slipping down her thin, freckled shoulder nearly sent him around the bend? Why had his fingers itched to slide under the stupid strap and push it back up where it belonged, tracing her arm along the way?

As the school year went on, things went from frustrating to maddening! He'd never shared his little adventure in the loo with anyone. For one thing, nothing had happened except that he'd lowered himself to performing domestic chores for a poverty-stricken Muggle lover. Besides, there was no profit in spreading the tale around. If he offered to blackmail Weasley, she'd probably throw it in his face and tell him to go ahead. And she'd hate him more than she already did. Not, of course, that he cared about THAT! Also, the thought of Vince Crabbe or Terry Boot watching Weasley with a speculative gleam in their eyes frankly sickened him. But what he'd seen had begun to get to him. He couldn't seem to help himself. He watched her constantly. He'd seen Finnegan pursuing her, smiling that stupid smile of his that he seemed to think was so charming. Draco cursed as he saw how Finnegan made Weasley smile and laugh. And Weasley had been charmed. He knew he could never make her laugh like that; it just wasn't in him to be so flippant or light. It made Draco's blood boil to watch the two of them walking through the halls, hand in hand. Didn't Finnegan know how stupid he looked with a girl so much taller than himself? Didn't he have any pride? And while he watched, it was obvious to him that Finnegan was much more attached than Weasley. In fact, he didn't give them above two months before Weasley would call it off.

But in the meantime, Draco felt like a poor orphan standing outside the window of a sweets shop, his nose pressed against the glass, hungering for what he couldn't have. And he hated it! He did NOT want Ginny Weasley. It was a temporary fascination. It was seeing her bra and wondering if her knickers matched! Oh, yes, that was a huge part of his obsession! He'd noticed instantly when she'd worn a black (for god's sake! Black under a white blouse!) slip and bra, even though she was careful to keep her robe closed. No one else seemed to notice. But when she'd sat down for breakfast that first morning, her robe had fallen open and the bottom edge of the black slip was visible for a second.

Naturally he couldn't help wondering if she were also wearing black knickers. And black would be much better for her skin tone than that insipid blue! More elegant and dramatic. If he were in a position to say anything, he'd tell her to go for the dramatic colours. Not the 'fuck me' colours, of course, and no animal prints or metallics. But deep green, or midnight blue, or black, or even a rich burgundy; any of those colours would work. He was not, however, in a position to comment to Weasley about her choice of knickers. Not unless he wanted her to hand him his guts on a platter.

He wondered that he'd never noticed the hard streak in the girl before. Oh, she seemed soft as a marshmallow, right up to the point where her look made you shudder and thank the fates she wasn't armed with a blunt object. He'd encountered that look a few times now. The first time had been in Hogsmeade. He'd been sitting there, minding his own business and watching Weasley occasionally. He was sketching, of course, alternately working on his mother's portrait and doing simple sketches of Weasley. He'd glanced her way and had seen Finnegan reach out and push her hair back. Draco had wanted to get up and pound Finnegan for his impertinence, but of course he didn't.

Finnegan had run his hand down Weasley's arm, and then stopped. Draco knew immediately what he was doing. He was playing with the damned bra strap that Weasley was forever trying to hitch up! Why wasn't Weasley stopping him? She did, finally, and turned away to do the job herself. Draco couldn't tear his eyes away as she dipped her hand into her blouse and tugged the strap back. Good lord, he was practically drooling! That was when she'd seen him watching and had frozen him with that look.

Things were definitely getting out of hand, though, because some of the other Slytherins were noticing his obsession. One of the fellows on his Quidditch team had even challenged him on it. He still couldn't believe it!

"Malfoy, do you have a minute?" Charles Underwood had looked distinctly nervous, but firm.

"What is it, Underwood?" Draco had asked, unaware of what the other boy wanted to talk about. He'd thought the sixth year wanted to discuss Quidditch.

The other boy had motioned to two chairs well away from the main crowd (if you could call fifteen or so students a crowd) of Slytherins in the Common Room. Draco had raised his eyebrows. Secrecy when discussing practice in their own Common Room?

Underwood still looked nervous, clenching and unclenching his hands and looking anywhere but at Draco. Draco smiled grimly. He enjoyed the effect he had on others, and liked the feeling of power it gave him. It was nice to know that some things were as they should be.

"Well, Underwood? What do you want?" Draco used his slightly patronizing, slightly annoyed voice. It would tell Underwood that he had better things to do, so the boy would get right to the point.

"We-ell," he said slowly, apparently uncertain how to proceed. He swallowed and started again. "There's this girl, you see. A sixth year like me."

Draco was surprised. Underwood wanted advice on his love life? That was new. And it was something Draco wasn't about to get involved in. He held up his hand.

"Sorry, lonely hearts isn't in my line," he said, standing.

"Damn it, Malfoy, just sit down and listen," Underwood hissed, then grimaced.

Draco looked at him, mildly shocked. Very few people talked to him like that. He had to give Underwood credit, though. The boy was standing his ground. Amused, Draco sat.

"Well?" he prompted.

"This girl, the one I like, she's a Gryffindor," Underwood began again.

A Gryffindor? There were only three female Gryffs in their sixth year. Draco narrowed his eyes and looked assessingly at Underwood. The boy was as tall as Draco. He was probably what girls would consider good looking; better looking at any rate than Finnegan. It wasn't possible that he was interested in Weasley, was it?

Charles stuttered to a stop again as he saw the look on Draco's face. He looked capable of murder at the moment! Draco waited a moment then snapped, "Well? This girl in Gryffindor? What the hell does that have to do with me?"

"Er, nothing," Underwood stammered. "It's just that, well, oh, hell!"

He stood and paced back and forth. Then he stopped in front of Draco and stared at him.

"Look, I really like her, but she's best friends with that Weasley girl. And I've noticed you giving Weasley these looks! Its none of my business, but if you mess with Weasley, Violet will believe every bad thing she's ever heard about Slytherins! It might ruin my chances with her. Can't you just leave the Weasley girl alone? You're leaving after this term anyway. Besides, she never does anything to you."

Draco couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe that this sixth year was actually questioning him about his actions! And he was warning him off Weasley! As though Draco had any interest at all in that skinny, plain beanpole! What the hell kind of looks did he think he'd seen Draco giving the stupid little weasel, anyway? Draco glared and stood up. Underwood was much bulkier than Draco, but the younger boy backed away.

"You're right about one thing, Underwood," Draco said in a quiet, menacing voice. "Its none of your business."

Charles didn't want this confrontation, but he didn't give up. Mustering up his courage, he said, "I know you don't give a damn about anyone but yourself, Malfoy, but I do. I care about Vi and I'm not going to let you hurt her friend. Leave Weasley alone!"

He turned and stomped away, thankful that Malfoy hadn't decided to pursue the subject. Everyone in Slytherin knew Malfoy was wickedly good at boxing, and that he fought dirty. Charles knew that despite their weight difference, Malfoy would tear him up. When he slipped into his room and collapsed on his bed he realized that his knees were shaking!

Draco watched Underwood go, wondering if he should beat the hell out of the other boy just on principle. He shook his head and sat down again, thinking furiously and absently twisting his ring. So Underwood had noticed Draco's obsession with Weasley? He wondered who else had noticed. Not Weasley herself. She barely noticed anything except that git Finnegan and her giggling, silly friends. And even Finnegan seemed to be moving out of the picture. Draco smiled grimly at Underwood's determination. He must really like that Violet person. Draco wasn't really certain which of Weasley's friends was Violet. They both seemed to melt into the background when Weasley was around. Of course, being nearly six feet and having blinding red hair did tend to make one stand out in a crowd. But it wasn't good that Underwood had noticed. What if he told his little girlfriend? And what if she told Weasley? Weasley might just wonder what was going through Draco's mind. She might get ideas. She might actually be deluded enough to think Draco LIKED her!

Draco decided he had to get over this obsession he had with Weasley and her stupid, bloody knickers! Whatever it took! He was not going to watch her any more; he would not sketch her any more. He'd even burn the damned sketchbook! Hurrying to his room, he unlocked his trunk and removed the wards protecting it. He grabbed the book, relocked the trunk and rushed back to the Common Room. There were even fewer students still around, but too many for him to start tearing pages from the book and burning them. Draco sat down in one of the chairs away from the fire and opened the book again. His mother's portrait wasn't exactly what he'd planned. He had wanted only to capture her beauty, but the portrait was growing into something more.

He saw her determination and her strength, not obvious, but there. He thought again about her words to him, still uncertain what she'd wanted. He had tried to look around himself; he'd tried to see others clearly, but he hadn't been very successful. And it was all Weasley's fault. Every time he started to browbeat or bully someone, he'd see Weasley, or think of her, or remember the look on her face when she'd said he was 'nice'! Disgusting! But then he'd look at the terrified little Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw and let them go. About the only real fun he was having this year was harassing Weasley's brother and his crowd. At least they fought back. He looked at his mother's face again and seemed to see a smile in the eyes. He didn't remember drawing that, so it was probably just his fancy.

Draco automatically turned the page, cursing as he was confronted with the original sketches he'd made of Weasley. He'd caught the fright on her face when he'd first walked in on her, as well as the indignation she'd felt later. And those eyes! He'd first noticed them when he'd covered her mouth to keep her from yelling. While everything else about Weasley might be plain, or odd, or average, her eyes were startling. What business did she have to have such beautiful, large dark eyes in such a pale, ordinary face? He'd drawn endless pictures of just her eyes! But there were plenty of other pictures, too. In her robes, in her blouse, in just the bra and skirt. Her face, her shoulders, her long, strong hands. Draco looked at page after page, feeling the anger and frustration growing again. He was going to burn the whole damned thing right now, he vowed! Then he flipped to the last drawing.

It was only a light pencil outline right now, but the content was obvious. Weasley in the mirror, as he'd seen her, but different. In this drawing, she wasn't alone. This time Draco had drawn himself in the picture. He was standing right behind her, with his arms wrapped around her and his face buried in the messy hair at her neck. This was one of the few he'd drawn of her that wasn't strictly what he saw. Because he knew he never had seen (and never would see, he was certain) that look of passion on her face. He'd drawn her with her eyes closed and her head thrown back, as though inviting him to leave off her neck and kiss her. His heart started pounding as he fished into his pocket and pulled out a pencil. He worked on the drawing, adding more detail, darkening and shading it. Her mouth was wrong. He'd seen it in a thin line in the mirror, but it was full and wide when she was smiling or laughing. And her bust wasn't as full as he'd drawn originally. And if he had his arms around her like that, he certainly wouldn't limit himself to her stomach! Gods, no! He erased, then redrew his left arm so that he was encircling her ribs, just teasing the front fastening of the ridiculous bra!

Draco continued to draw, not noticing the passing of time or that the other kids had all finally drifted up to bed. When he finally sat back to look at the drawing, he frowned. He had no intention of ever letting Weasley see the drawings in the sketchbook, so he couldn't know that she would immediately recognize the tall pale boy pictured standing behind her. But he removed all doubt of the identity of the boy when he drew his father's ugly signet ring on the left hand.

Draco was heading to the library, angry with himself. After he'd finished the drawing the other night, he'd been unable to toss the thing in the fire. Instead, he'd locked it away again, knowing that he couldn't let anyone else see it. It was more than just protecting himself. Anyone who saw the drawings now, especially the last one, would assume that Draco was sleeping with Weasley. It would be harmful to his own reputation, in view of his feelings toward Muggle lovers in general and Weasleys in particular. But it would be devastating to hers. Oh, everyone knew that many of the kids here were sexually active, and that some weren't very discrete about it. Big deal. And if anyone suspected that Weasley was sleeping with Finnegan (Draco felt his jaw tightening at the very idea), they probably wouldn't care. But Ginny Weasley was of that special breed of 'nice' girl who was supposed to go out with the captain of the Quidditch team, or become a prefect, or discover another use for dragon's blood, or do any of a hundred other 'special' things with her life. She was NOT supposed to go out with the enemy, and she would never, ever sleep with an 'evil' git, the son of a suspected Deatheater, like Draco Malfoy!

Draco almost had to laugh at his own thoughts. Obviously no one at the school had seen the basilisk looks the girl was capable of. Nor had they noticed the way she could intimidate boys with a curl of her lip. Hell, she would have done great in Slytherin if she weren't so damned 'nice'. But that was beside the point. He had to stop drawing her, he had to stop watching her and he had to make certain no one ever got a glimpse of his drawings. He'd rationalized to himself that he had to keep the book so he could look back at it and laugh in a few months. Unfortunately, he was still carrying it around. He didn't feel safe leaving it in his trunk anymore. No knowing what Crabbe might do if he got bored enough. Draco shuddered at the though of Vince Crabbe drooling over his drawings of Weasley. And then he might say something to someone else, or show the drawings to others. No, Draco thought. He might not like Weasley, and he might hate her brother, but he couldn't let the pictures get around.

He glanced at the library door, wondering why he bothered with his homework. He'd be gone in a month or so, anyway. But here he was, like a good little boy, working on high marks. He decided to make a pit stop first, so he didn't see Ginny Weasley, wearing what he called the 'basilisk' look, following him.

When Draco entered the library, Weasley was already there, absorbed in whatever she was working on. Draco almost decided to come back later, but he remembered that she worked in the library now and would probably be there until closing. Stifling a curse, he moved toward the back of the room and sat down. Pulling out his homework, he inked his quill and then stared at the assignment. He read it once, re-inked the quill and read it again. For some reason the text was making no sense to him at all. Shifting in his seat, he tried once more. Damn! He'd read the text three times and hadn't understood a word! Draco glanced up, irritated, and noticed that he could just see Weasley between the rows of books. Her profile showed the long nose that seemed almost as trademark as the bright hair. She was pursing her lips and absently plucking at the lower lip with her long fingers.

Draco felt his hands itching. He tried to concentrate on his homework, the fingers of his right hand idly twisting at the ring again. It was no good. Despite himself, against his will, he pulled his sketchpad from under his textbook and flipped to one of the less crowded pages. Setting the quill aside, he pulled a pencil from his pocket and began to draw.

Thirty minutes later, Draco was disgusted with himself. The sheet of paper was now completely filled with Weasley. He really needed to get out of here! His obsession seemed to be getting worse! Shutting the sketchpad, he gathered his other things and headed for the door. He almost made it, too. As he opened the door, though, he glanced back and saw Weasley reach into her robe and pull at the bra strap again. Draco watched, transfixed, until she stiffened and rolled her shoulders. The spell seemed to have been broken. With a snort of self-disgust, Draco slipped out of the library, deciding to come back when everyone was at supper.

As Draco walked along the hallway to the library a bit later, he was still arguing with himself about what to do with the sketchpad. Maybe if he burned it he wouldn't feel compelled to draw? Or maybe he'd just feel compelled to buy another one and fill it with more ridiculous pictures of a girl he loathed. He was completely caught off guard when the door swung open and smashed him in the cheek.

The pain was immense! Like being slammed with a Bludger! He heard a feminine voice, a very familiar feminine voice cry, "Oh, my God!" just before he saw Ginny Weasley peeking around the door.

She started to apologize but he yanked the door out of her hands before she could finish. Oh, lord, he thought, looking at her face. She was staring at him with those big, brown eyes, looking miserable. Draco tried to drag his eyes away, finally pressing the growing lump on his face and hissing in pain. But it did the trick. He pulled his hand away and looked at it, then glared at her. She looked so pathetically sorry that he grew even angrier.

"Goddamnit, Weasley!" Draco hissed, too angry to say anything else. He didn't want to say anything! He just wanted to get away from that sorrowful look!

He watched as she raised a hand to his cheek. Flinching away from her touch, he grabbed her hand and pushed it away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Trying to have another go at me?"

Draco was almost relieved to see her straighten up and assume the 'basilisk' look.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," she said, perfectly composed now, her voice like a razor. "If I'd known you were sneaking around, I might have opened the door more slowly. But, then," she paused, getting his full attention, "I might just have shoved it open harder."

"No doubt, Weasley," Draco said with a nod. She wasn't at all the sweet, fluffy little kitten everyone seemed to think she was. "Are you going to stand there forever, or get the hell out of the way so I can go in?"

Draco felt a grim satisfaction at seeing confusion cross her face. She hadn't expected that. Now if she would just leave, he could breathe normally again. But the damned girl was following him!

"Well?" he demanded.

Weasley stepped away, finally, but wouldn't go! Instead, she reached up to touch his face again. Probably wants to gloat over the damage she caused, he thought. The thing was, he wanted to let her touch! And that was dangerous.

"You should get some ice on that, straight away. It's going to look like someone socked you if you don't."

"Fine, Weasley," he sneered. Damn, that hurt! But he wanted her to be mad again, not sympathetic. "You did it, you heal it. You've enough magic for THAT, don't you?"

She glared at him, probably guessing that he was referring to her inability to do a simple cleaning spell.

"Sorry, Malfoy," she sneered right back. "Healing's not my strong point. Especially when it's a conceited git like you!"

Ouch! But it worked. She was finally leaving! Then he saw her hitch her shoulder up, trying to fix the damned bra strap again. He couldn't stop himself. He reached out and pulled her back. His eyes fixed on her sleeve, knowing he should stop, unable to do so. She was trying to pull away, but he wasn't ready to let her go yet.

"You should do something about that, Weasley," he growled at her, his voice sounding husky and harsh to himself. Why couldn't she have just let him alone, he thought angrily. Instead, she had to look at him with those soft eyes and remind him of what he'd already seen and was dying to see again. He raised his hand to her arm and slipped his fingers under the sleeve of the robe. He heard a small sound come from her, but he couldn't stop.

Draco trailed his fingers up her arm to the strap. Was it the blue one, he wondered? Or was it the black one she wore with the slip? He traced the strap, wondering what she would do if he followed the strap all the way to where it met the cup of the bra? Would the confusion on her face be replaced by rage or would she look as he'd drawn her? He was becoming hot, flushed; he could feel his breathing coming faster. The light perfume she wore was tickling his nostrils and his eyes moved from her arm to the full lips, only inches away. He was on the verge of finding out what she would do if he went farther when her body tensed. She must have finally remembered just who it was touching her and how much she hated him, Draco thought darkly. He suddenly realized how close he'd been to losing control and grew angry again. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he pointed it at her arm.

"Unless you want every boy in school trying to, er, give you a 'hand', you'd better learn this little bit of magic." Draco was certain he wasn't the only one who had noticed her little 'problem' with her underwear. She'd better make sure she learned this spell, at least. He said the spell that levitated the strap back into position.

Then she gave him the soft look again. Damn, that was enough. He couldn't take this anymore. He had to get rid of her once and for all!

Ignoring the pain, he sneered at her. "Well, Weasley, do you think you can handle at least THAT little spell? Or is that not in your line, either?"

It must have worked because she looked ready to slap him.

"Huh, good thing I didn't expect to be thanked for my troubles. I'd be rather careful of slapping, though, Weasley. You never know who might just decide to hit back." And the retaliation might not be what you expect, he thought. He added for good measure, "And next time, Weasley, try getting something that actually fits."

Weasley finally left and Draco slumped into a table at the back of the library. Gingerly touching the lump on his cheek, he brought his wand out again and placed a healing spell on the injury. Well, there was no doubt that she hated him now, he thought, relieved. Girls like her were dangerous. They made a boy think about what he was doing and where he was going in life. Draco did not need some girl making him think about his future right now. The near future was set; he was going to Durmstrang in a few months. He wouldn't think about the rumours of Voldemort's declining support and strength. He wouldn't think about how, at least four times in the last six years, that git Potter had upset Voldemort's plans. And he wouldn't wonder if, perhaps, he might not be on the wrong side of things. He would get through classes, keep to himself, and definitely not watch the little weasel any more.

Draco had been fairly successful. The holidays were coming up and he would be off to Durmstrang. He'd been mostly successful in avoiding Weasley and in not drawing her. There had still been one or two times, like when she'd had half of her thigh showing in the Great Hall and Underwood had taken it on himself to shield the little weasel until she'd pulled herself (and her robe) together. Or when he had been going up the stairs while she was running down once. She had been in such a hurry she hadn't even noticed him. But he had noticed her. Her robe had billowed out and in her hurry her skirt kept flipping up just a bit. Just enough to expose the lacy slip. The BLACK lacy slip!

However, Draco had firmly kept the sketchpad buried at the bottom of his trunk, with locks, wards, hexes and booby-traps on it. He silently smirked when he noticed Finnegan going about in a depressed haze. Weasley had obviously told him to bugger off. Well, he amended, she'd probably told him very nicely that she didn't feel the same way about him. That was what 'nice' girls did, and lord save him from all nice girls! Now he just had to concentrate on his main goal: Durmstrang. Once there, he would forget all about skinny Ginny Weasley.

The school felt eerie and deserted as Draco made his way to the library. He'd avoided it like the plague since his last encounter with Weasley, but he would be leaving in two days and he wanted to see her just once more. For some perverse reason, he had talked his father into allowing him to stay at Hogwarts until after the Christmas dance. He wasn't taking a girl; he didn't even like dancing all that much although he knew how. But he had wanted to see everyone in all their finery one last time. Draco pulled the door open and looked inside. The place looked empty. Even the old bat, Madam Pince, wasn't standing at the desk like a watchdog. He entered and looked around, wondering whether Weasley were here or not.

Now that he was leaving, he'd begun to feel nervous about the sketchpad again. He'd taken to carrying it around with him, keeping it close to hand. He wandered toward the rear of the library, thinking perhaps he should just leave. That was when he heard someone moving around in one of the aisles. He moved toward the sound and turned round a row of books just in time to see one of the library ladders rushing at him.

Draco had been quick enough to move slightly aside so the ladder hit his chest, not his face. But, damn, it had hurt! He cursed loudly, then looked up to see Weasley looking down at him with a horrified expression on her face.

"Goddamn, Weasley, do you EVER look where you're going?" he snapped at her.

He watched her climb carefully down from the ladder, full of apologies. He cut her off, though. He didn't want that look again. He didn't want those eyes to soften or he'd be in big trouble. His rudeness didn't work this time. Weasley continued to look mournfully at him, twisting her hands and biting her full bottom lip.

"Really, Malfoy, I am sorry! Can I do anything?"

Yes! his brain screamed, visualizing several things she could do but that she probably never would. "Not bloody likely, Weasley," he growled. "What the hell were you doing, anyway?"

She frowned at him and motioned to the books scattered around. "Well, that should be obvious. I was shelving books!" Then she knelt and began picking them up, reminding Draco of the day in the train, when she'd knelt to retrieve her sodden blouse.

He cursed again and strode away. He slammed his books onto the table and stalked back. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he came to the library. Kneeling, he asked, "Why the hell don't you use magic? Unless-- ."

Good God, was she a squib? Didn't she ever use magic?

"Don't even, Malfoy," she said irritably. "Of course I can levitate a few books. Madam P doesn't allow magic in the library."

"Stupid," he muttered, now in an evil temper. "How're we supposed to practice when we can't use our talent? Where is the old bat, anyway? I expected her to be on our necks with all the racket you made."

Weasley didn't answer; she just kept collecting the books. He brought the books he'd collected back to her, but stopped when he saw that she meant to try her balancing act again. He fixed her with a hard stare.

"Go on, Weasley. I'll hand them up," he said angrily. He wasn't about to let her go rocketing about on the damned ladder again.

He didn't like the look she gave him, as though she couldn't believe he'd actually offered to help her. His temper was already frayed and this wasn't helping.

"I'm trying to study, Weasley!" he said by way of explanation. "The longer you're thrashing about, like a herd of dragons, the longer it's going to take me to finish. So let's just get this over with!"

Weasley gave him a sort of shrug and then started climbing the ladder. It wasn't until she was at about step six that Draco realized he had a serious problem. With her up on the ladder, he would have the perfect means of answering the question he'd been obsessing over for the last four months. He had only to look up. Clenching his jaw, he fixed his eyes on the book directly in front of him and ordered himself not to move. He handed the first book up, wondering what the hell she was doing climbing up ladders in a skirt, without even the protection of her robe. Then he remembered that she seemed to forget modesty when she was dealing with something else. He held up the next book, but she seemed to be taking her time about shelving it.

"Is there a problem, Weasley?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Actually, this book goes over there," she answered with a trace of nervousness. Draco assumed she was pointing, but he didn't look. As they were at the end of the row, he pushed the ladder the other way.

"Just tell me when to stop," he ordered.

After that, the shelving went along smoothly. Until Weasley nearly dropped a book. Draco had to look up to make sure she had it firmly, and that was when he saw her lacy slip again. She was reaching up to put the book in its place and a long stretch of thigh was revealed. Draco swallowed and looked back at the dwindling stack of books balancing on the lower step. He looked at the book he was clutching in his hand. Weasley seemed to be taking her sweet time, he thought angrily. He looked up again and saw that she was shoving the tightly fitting books apart, trying to make room for the one in her hand. And her skirt was flaring out away from her legs.

Watching his hand with a kind of fascinated horror, Draco reached up with the book he was still clutching and touched her hem with the spine. Don't! he ordered himself. Don't do it! It was useless. He hooked the hem on the edge of the book and carefully pulled it out farther. The shadows under Weasley's skirt were so dark, Draco really couldn't see anything. Just a bit more should do it, he thought desperately. He moved his hand just a little more, when she seemed to just fly down the steps.

Draco took a step backward, amazed at her speed. She was furious! Too late, Draco tried to avoid the blow, but Weasley was way ahead of him. He staggered back under its force and was only saved from landing on his arse by the shelves behind him. His cheek seemed to explode in pain and he dropped the book he'd been holding. His ears were ringing and he wondered wildly whether the sound of her slap could be heard all the way down in the dungeons. Draco shook his head, trying to clear it, when the hellcat was on him again.

"You BASTARD!" she hissed. "You perverted SON OF A BITCH! What the HELL did you think you were doing!?"

Weasley was still trying to get at his face, but he caught her wrists and held them away. What the hell had he been thinking, he asked himself? He didn't blame her for her anger! But he was surprised at her fury! He knew there was more to her than what most people seemed to think, but even he was taken off guard! She was yanking at her wrists, trying to free herself. Draco pulled her closer and tried to apologize.

"Look, Weasley, I didn't mean--," he stopped. What could he say? 'Gee, Weasley, sorry 'bout that. Just wondering what colour your knickers are'? Oh, yeah, that would go down well.

She gave him the basilisk look and threw his half-assed apology back in his face. Then she threatened to tell her brother about the incident. Draco felt his blood pounding. Let her tell Ron! He'd love to have someone to pound right about now. He couldn't believe he'd lost control, that he'd let this tall, gawky girl put him in such a humiliating position. He had to get control back!

He jeered at her to go ahead and tell her brother. "He might be interested to know how you traipse around half nude, and how you're always tugging at your underthings in public," he added threateningly.

Her face paled. So she hadn't told big brother about bad old Malfoy bursting in on her in the loo? He relaxed his grip as she stopped fighting. Her eyes had grown large and worried again and Draco almost apologized. Then her expression hardened.

"Yeah, that's just what I'd expect from you, Malfoy," she hissed.

Draco thought she was going to cry. Instead, she ordered him to go. No one ordered him to leave! He left when he wanted to!

Giving her a last glare, he nodded. "Don't worry, Weasley. I was just leaving!"

Draco didn't miss his books until much later. He was so mad at Weasley that he had stormed into Slytherin, grabbed his heavy cloak and gloves from his room and stormed out. He stalked to the main entry and left the castle, not caring whether anyone saw him or not. Then he walked. He walked to the lake, now partially frozen over, and stood for a while, watch the giant squid swimming in the unfrozen middle. He walked toward Hagrid's cabin, but gave it a wide berth. He wanted no dealings with Dumbledore's pet half-giant tonight. He walked to the fringe of the Forbidden Forest and contemplated going in, but decided against it. He knew some safe places in the forest, but he wasn't concentrating tonight and didn't want to be caught unawares by some prowling creature.

It was very cold and there were several inches of snow on the ground, but Draco ignored the discomfort. He couldn't get the image of Ginny Weasley out of his head. Ridiculous as it was, she had trusted him. She should have known better, he told himself. If there was one thing a Weasley could bank on (and that certainly wasn't money) it was that they should never trust a Malfoy. That was just stupid. And even more stupid was his feeling of guilt for betraying that trust. He shouldn't feel guilty. It was Weasley's fault for not being more careful around him. She should have worn her robe. She shouldn't have let him help her. There must have been dozens of ways she could have prevented what had just happened. Why did he have to be the strong, moral one? That was a laugh in itself. And why shouldn't he have looked at what she seemed to be so openly flaunting?

Draco's wanderings finally brought him to the potting sheds where he sat for a few minutes. Hell, he thought, now what was going to happen? He had no doubt that Ron Weasley would be out for his blood by breakfast tomorrow. He didn't blame him. He really didn't care. It wasn't Ron Weasley he was worried about. What would Ginny Weasley do to him? Ron was so straightforward that he wasn't a threat. But Ginny might be very dangerous. He considered her words as he sat, shivering, on one of the potting benches.

She thought he was trying to humiliate her? Why she would think that when he hadn't said a thing about the loo, or Hogsmeade, or the library incident was beyond him. But it figured that she would think the worst of him. Unfortunately, when he thought about it he didn't have a satisfactory explanation for his behavior, either. Except lust. Obsession. Infatuation. Call it what you would, that was the only explanation he could come up with. He was lusting over a flat-chested, skinny, plain schoolgirl. All because of a brief glimpse of her bra and the constant wondering about the colour of her knickers!

Draco's hands began to itch and he rubbed them together. The gloves were warm, but not designed for sitting out in the cold. In fact, he finally realized he was shivering. Disgusted with himself, he headed back to the castle, ordering himself not to pull the sketchpad out. He would leave it locked up tonight and maybe he would draw tomorrow. Draco was almost to the steps when he remembered that he'd left the sketchpad, and his textbook, in the library! Panicked, he burst into the castle and headed for the library at a dead run!

Draco paced back and forth in front of the fire. He'd been up all night and was in a rotten mood right now. The librarian had just been locking up when he'd gotten to the library last night. After some initial grumbling she opened the door and let Draco in. He ran to the table where he'd set his books, but they were gone!

"Is this what you were looking for?" Madam Pince held up a single Arithmancy book that she'd retrieved from the circulation desk.

Draco rushed over and looked around the desk. "Where's the rest of it?" he demanded, trying to shove past the librarian and look behind the desk.

"Mr. Malfoy!" she snapped. "There was no 'rest' of anything! This is all that was here! You can ask Miss Weasley! She's the one who brought this up."

Draco stared at the woman, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Weasley had found his books? And now the sketchpad was missing? This was bad. Very bad.

What was he going to do now? Draco asked himself the question over and over as he paced in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room. He'd skipped breakfast, wanting to put off the inevitable encounter for as long as possible. He knew, even if no one else in the school did, that Ginny Weasley had a filthy temper; it just took a lot to trigger it. He suspected that finding a sketchbook filled with drawings of herself in various stages of undress would be like igniting a bomb with a blast of dragon fire; explosive. He also suspected that she had a much more developed sense of revenge than her brother. Not that he'd ever seen any evidence of it, he just sensed it. Hell, he wouldn't have been surprised if she pounced on him in the Great Hall, downing him with whatever blunt object came to hand. And he didn't think she would sleep on it and decide there was no harm done, after all. If he knew anything about the girl he'd been watching for the last four months, she was still furious with him.

Draco knew he could probably avoid her until he left tomorrow, but that would be cowardly. He would have to face her eventually, even if it was just to find out what she'd done with the damned book. After he disposed of it he'd probably let her take her revenge. But it would be where HE wanted, not by ambush. He would find a way to get her alone, without the entire school listening. Then he could go off to Durmstrang and forget she ever existed.

Draco carefully approached the Great Hall for lunch. The students had been advised to eat up since there was no supper planned. Instead, there would be sandwiches at the dance and a light snack early for those not attending. He hadn't seen any sign of Weasley and wanted to keep it that way. He did not want her sneaking up on him. As he entered the Great Hall, he looked toward the Gryffindor table, but she wasn't there yet. Relieved, he moved to his table and sat, making sure his back was to the wall.

He couldn't believe how on edge he was. Did he really think Ginny Weasley was capable of doing him any real injury? Oh, yes, he thought she would be capable of it if she were properly motivated. He'd provided her with all the motivation she needed, too. But was he really worried about getting hurt? That was the hell of it. He didn't give a damn about that. What he didn't want was a loud, large scene that would humiliate both of them. She could yell and scream and strike out at him as much as she wanted, as long as it was in private.

The meal came and went without Weasley making an appearance. Draco wasn't sure if he were more disappointed or relieved. If she wasn't lurking in dark corners with a bat or a knife, she must be up in her dorm preparing for the dance. Maybe she really wasn't going to try anything after all? Draco shook his head. That was impossible. What was more likely was that she was waiting to take him unawares, like the dangerous animals in the Forbidden Forest. Just waiting until he was off his guard. He almost smiled. Few people knew he would be gone after tomorrow morning, and maybe Weasley was waiting until after the dance to retaliate, so she wouldn't get detention and miss it.

Still looking over his shoulder occasionally, Draco made his way back to Slytherin to start packing and get ready for the dance.

Ginny had expected to see Malfoy at breakfast, but the sneaking coward hadn't shown up. She remembered thinking he couldn't be a coward because he still challenged Ron and Harry even without Crabbe and Goyle to back him up. But why else would he miss a meal if he weren't afraid of what she might do to him? As she, Vi and Jess headed toward the stairs afterward, the Slytherin boy, Charles, hurried over to ask Vi (and Jess and Ginny, too, of course) if she'd like to stroll around the castle and look at the new snow that had fallen last night. Jess and Ginny promptly excused themselves, watching the couple shyly hold hands as they walked away.

"I really think he likes her," Jess said quietly. "I just didn't believe it at first."

Ginny shook her head. "Who would have thought? Our Violet with a Slytherin. Guess it proves what I've always said. Just being in Slytherin doesn't make you evil."

Jess lifted an eyebrow at Ginny. "Oh, really? And which Slytherin are you talking about? Maybe a pale, blond-haired dragon of a Slytherin, hmmm?"

Ginny flushed hotly. "Absolutely not. There are some of them that give the rest a bad name, and Malfoy's one of them!"

Jess shrugged. "If you say so. I just thought I noticed you staring back at him ever since you and Seamus broke up."

Ginny looked at her friend as though the girl had grown another head. "Are you nuts?" she demanded. "I can't stand him! I don't stare at him! I hate him!"

She stopped suddenly, realizing that she probably seemed to be over- reacting. As far as Jess and Vi knew, Malfoy never bothered her. The worst that could be said is that he looked at her. They had no idea about the loo incident, or what had happened in the library, and they sure didn't know about the sketchpad. And she wasn't about to tell them about that, either! Sure enough, Jess was giving her that speculative look again. The smaller girl grinned suddenly.

"'Methinks thou dost protest too much,'" she said wickedly. "Poor Seamus; losing to Malfoy. And poor Malfoy if he really does think he can 'handle' you!"

At Ginny's continued protests, Jess just laughed.

"Come on, Gin," she said finally. "Let's see what we're going to do with our hair for tonight!"

Ginny looked in the mirror later and was glad she'd decided on the 'Breakfast' hairdo. It certainly did look sophisticated. Her dress robes were clean and pressed and looked beautiful. The colour perfectly enhanced her paleness without making her look sallow. And the cut was wonderful! A 'V' neckline that made her long neck look graceful.

"Try this, Gin," Jess said, handing Ginny a cameo pin on a black velvet ribbon. It wasn't a diamond and pearl choker, but it looked just right. For just a second, Ginny wished she had a black sheath dress with a split up to her thigh and long black gloves, just like the actress in the film. But even with a sophisticated hairstyle, she didn't have the maturity to carry off such a dramatic look. She would just have to be satisfied with what she did have. And, hopefully, Malfoy would play right into her hands.

She had already decided that she was going to bring a blank sketchpad with her to the dance (she knew she had one buried somewhere in her trunk) and pretend that she was showing the pictures to her friends. She would get them to laugh, as though they were making fun of Malfoy for being obsessed with her. Then, when he did something embarrassing, like storming up to claim his property, he would find out that she'd tricked him. And it would be he, and not she, that would be humiliated!

Jess gave Ginny's hair a last pat and told her to go sit somewhere quiet where she wouldn't mess it up before the dance. Ginny nodded and decided to go sit in the common room and draw a few of her own pathetic doodles in the blank book. Her friends had to have SOMETHING to laugh at, and her drawing was pretty darned hilarious. Grabbing a pencil and both books, Ginny hurried down to the Common Room.

Ginny had barely started on her drawing when Vi entered the Common Room. Her cheeks were flushed and the hem of her robe was soaking, but she looked very happy. That Charles fellow must be very special, Ginny thought to herself. Vi headed for the stairs, but spotted Ginny and moved toward her instead.

"Ginny! Your hair looks wonderful!" she said, flumping into the opposite chair. "I didn't realize it was so late! I better get going if I'm going to be ready on time!"

But she didn't seem in any hurry to 'get going'. Instead, she shook a few remaining clumps of snow off her hem and gazed steadily at Ginny.

Ginny returned her gaze for a few moments, but, after that, she lowered her brows. Vi looked away immediately, blushing.

"What is it, Vi?" Ginny demanded. "You're dying to tell me something, so just get it over with!"

Vi smoothed her robe nervously. "What makes you think that?" she asked.

"Hmmm," Ginny said as though considering. "Well, you want to hurry to get ready but you're not going, you're staring holes into me, and you keep opening your mouth to talk, just to close it again."

"Oh, yes. I guess you're right." Vi looked away, still looking nervous.

"Gods, Vi, do you think I'm going to bite your head off?" Ginny asked, amused. "Just tell me!"

"We-ell," she said slowly. "I was just talking to Charles."

Ginny laughed. "I bet 'talking' was the least of what you were doing!"

"Ginny! We WERE just talking," Vi declared. "Well, mostly," she admitted, smiling. She frowned as she continued. "Anyway, we were talking and your name came up. So naturally, so did Malfoy's."

"Naturally? How does my name naturally lead to his?"

"Oh, never mind that," Vi told her crossly. "Just listen! Did you know Malfoy was transferring to Durmstrang during the holidays? He's leaving some time next week!"

Ginny looked at Vi with wide eyes. Malfoy was leaving? She should feel elated, right? Instead, she felt.strange. Almost disappointed. But she wasn't about to admit that to anyone. Instead, she raised her fist in the air.

"Wa-hoo!" she said loudly, causing heads to turn. More quietly she continued, "That's great! We should have a party the day after to celebrate!"

Vi gave Ginny an appraising look. "Seriously, Gin? You're really glad? Because it seemed kind of like you were starting to like him, with the way you always watch him now."

Great, Ginny thought. First Jess, and now Vi! "No way, Vi. There's no way in the world I could be interested in him! I hate him! Just like he hates me!"

"Well, you see, Ginny, that's the problem! I don't think he hates you, and neither does Charles."

This was next to enough. Ginny was going to quash these speculations right now!

"Well, it must be, then. 'Charles' has said so, so that's that, right?" Ginny said sarcastically, giving Vi cold look. She didn't even realizing that she was scaring her more than just a little. "Well, you and Charles are wrong! The only reason Malfoy watches me is to humiliate me, got it? And the only reason I watch him is to plan how to keep him from doing it! So you can tell Charles." Ginny stopped suddenly when she saw how pale Vi had become. In fact, the poor girl was almost cringing in her seat.

Ginny backed off, ashamed of herself. Neither of her friends knew why she despised Malfoy so much, so naturally they wouldn't understand her behavior. And she was behaving just as badly as ever Malfoy did, terrorizing her own friends. Maybe the sorting hat had been right. Maybe she belonged in the same group as Malfoy.

"Look, Vi, I'm sorry. There are some things that have happened.Well, I can't tell you, but just believe me that Malfoy and I are not attracted to each other, okay?"

Vi recovered immediately. She knew Ginny wouldn't harm her for anything. She did wonder, however, what could have happened that would make Ginny so aggressive? And that Ginny wouldn't tell her and Jess about it. She wouldn't ask, though. If Ginny had wanted to tell, she would have. Nodding, she stood.

"Well, sorry, Gin," she said quickly. "I just thought you'd want to know. I'm going to get ready. See you in a bit."

Ginny cursed herself as she watched Vi run up the stairs. She almost never lost her temper with her friends and she hated that she'd just done so. Damn Malfoy, anyway. If she weren't distracted with him, she would never have quarreled with Vi. Well, she'd just have to make it up to Vi somehow. Ginny looked down at the bit of a drawing that she'd made and sighed.

She pulled out the other sketchpad and opened it to the final drawing. It still took her breath away, but she couldn't help admire Malfoy's skill once again. He'd actually made her look, if not beautiful, then at least desirable. He'd obviously taken almost as much care over this drawing as he had the portrait of his mother. Was that the work of obsession, she wondered? Her heart started racing as she looked at the picture. Had he drawn this to embarrass her? Or had he drawn what he wished he'd done? What would Ginny have done if Malfoy had come on to her in the loo, she wondered? Slap him, as she had done in the library when he'd looked up her skirt, she told herself firmly. There was no way she'd ever let him get that close to her! And yet.she looked at the drawing again, almost feeling his touch on her arm again. Ginny felt a shiver go through her and slammed the book closed. Damn, she would not imagine what it would be like! She wouldn't! She would embarrass him at the dance tonight, and good riddance to him when he left next week!

Draco entered the Great Hall before the dance with just as much caution as he'd used earlier. He still hadn't seen Weasley and he was becoming as jumpy as a cat on hot coals. He wanted to confront her and get it over with, but she wasn't cooperating. There were few people in the Great Hall yet. He was early. Brushing a nervous hand down his immaculate dress robes, he wondered what she would wear. Regular school robes? Did she have dress robes? Draco took a seat near the door and waited.

Ginny gave herself one last look before joining Vi and Jess downstairs. Vi had forgiven her for her bad temper and the girls were almost giddy with excitement. Colin would escort the three of them to the Great Hall, where Charles would join them. The hairdo was still intact, in spite of Ginny hauling her fitted dress robe over her head. Jess had wanted to give her a touch of makeup, but Ginny had refused. Even without it, she looked pretty darned good. Elegant, classy, just like Audrey Hepburn! And not very vengeful. She had second thoughts about the sketchpad. So Malfoy had drawn her, so what? He couldn't have shown the drawings around or Charles would have heard rumours about it and told Vi. Right? So, what harm really had been done, other than to her pride? But Malfoy couldn't get away with it, her other half declared! He had to learn that he couldn't go around humiliating people and get away with it. Before she could change her mind, Ginny snatched up the empty sketchpad and hurried downstairs.

The music was just starting and Draco was still sitting, watching the door. There were a lot more people now, but Ginny still wasn't here. Draco looked to the dance floor where Parvati Patil had dragged one of the Ravenclaw boys out to dance. They were both smiling and laughing. Draco felt out of place in this laughing, friendly crowd. Just then the door opened and Ginny walked in. She was with her friends and their beaux, but she was alone. Draco could only stare. She looked so.different! Her hair was up and she was wearing a beautiful robe that looked like it had been tailored just for her. Her long, slender throat was encircled with an old- fashioned cameo choker, but it was just right for her. She wasn't wearing any makeup, but she didn't need any. Her eyes were, as always, dark and lovely.

Draco noticed that he wasn't the only one staring. Nearly every unattached boy in the room seemed to be watching her, along with some of the boys who did have dates. Ginny didn't seem to notice any of it. She was casually chatting with her friends as the boys led them to a table. Draco was about to go ask her for a private word (hell, he was ready to demand a private word) when a sixth year Hufflepuff approached her and ask her to dance. She let him lead her to the dance floor where several other couples were now converging. Draco tried to keep her in sight, which should have been easy with her height, but he lost her in a few moments.

When the boy walked her back to her seat, there was another waiting to ask her for the next dance. And so it went. Draco was becoming more and more irritated as the evening wore on. He was ready to grab her and drag her out of the Great Hall when Finnegan claimed her for a slow dance. Ginny hesitated, then agreed. Draco watched, seething, as Finnegan pulled her indecently close and had the nerve to rest his hand on her buttocks. She corrected his hand placement immediately, which prevented Draco from walking over and correcting Finnegan with his fists. When the dance was finally over, Ginny walked back to her seat, Finnegan close behind.

Scowling, Draco watched as the young Irishman said something that made her laugh and smile. She even touched his arm, not seeming to notice Finnegan freezing at her touch. He smiled at her again and seemed to be asking her something, but she shook her head. He insisted, pulling at her arm. Draco was about to launch himself at Finnegan, but he saw Ginny give the other Gryffindor a sudden cold look. She shook her head again and he slowly nodded and walked away. Draco couldn't believe how relieved he was, even though Ginny now looked sad and depressed. She looked away from Finnegan's retreating form and suddenly met his eyes. It happened so fast that Draco had no time to react. In less than a second he was trapped by those sad eyes.

This was awful, Ginny thought. The evening had been going wonderfully; she was laughing and dancing and really having a great time. In fact, she'd almost forgotten about the sketchpad, Malfoy, and her anger. She'd even felt good about dancing with Seamus; as though things were all right between them again. But then, after such a nice dance, Seamus had insisted, no, demanded that she go outside with him and talk. She shouldn't have danced with him, especially not a slow dance. Because she knew what he wanted to talk about. He wanted them to get back together! But she couldn't. Even though they were young, she suspected Seamus was very deeply attached to her; possibly even in love. She didn't feel the same; never would. She just couldn't lead him on. She'd told him no and finally he had gone away. She felt awful now, and embarrassed. What must Vi and Jess think? She looked away from them and found Draco staring at her. She had seen him earlier, of course, but was still undecided on what to do about him. But now he was watching her embarrassment and confusion once again! She felt all her anger welling up and could easily have thrown herself at him to slap the smirk off his face when she realized that he wasn't smirking. He'd seen the encounter with Seamus but he looked as though he was sympathetic, not gloating!

Ginny couldn't take it. Compassion from Draco Malfoy was the last thing she needed. She would show him that she didn't want or need his pity! Snatching up the sketchpad from under the small clutch bag she had brought with her, she turned to Vi, who had just sat down again.

"I'm going to show you something, Vi, and I want you to laugh, okay?" Ginny looked intently at her friend, willing the girl to understand.

Vi gave her a curious look, glancing quickly down at the sketchpad. But she nodded.

Ginny opened the book, giving Vi a huge, amused smile that froze as she saw the look of awe on her friend's face. Looking down, Ginny gasped when she saw the portrait of Narcissa Malfoy! She'd brought the wrong book!

"Oh, wow! Ginny! Did you draw that? It's really good!" she exclaimed, reaching for the book. "Why on earth would I laugh at that?"

Ginny snatched it back and slammed it closed, stammering some excuse. She looked over at Draco and saw his eyes widen with alarm. He stood and was hurrying over, just as Ginny had planned, but this was wrong! She wasn't supposed to bring the real drawings! She had to get out of here!

Ginny jumped up and turned, running right into a young man carrying some drinks for himself and his date. As Ginny smashed into him, the drinks spilled all over the front of her new robes. Even while she was thinking this was too much like the loo, she pulled the book out of danger and shoved past, not even apologizing to the boy. Vi and Jess were ready to follow, but Ginny told them she'd be right back. They looked confused, and probably would have followed anyway but they saw Draco rush by, practically on Ginny's heels. They gave one another a look, and sat down. This was something Ginny would have to work out herself.

Ginny burst out of the Great Hall, sweet, sticky liquid dripping down her front, the sketchpad tightly clutched in her hands. She looked around wildly, and hurried for the stairs. She heard the music well up behind her, then go quiet again, but she wasn't interested in whoever else had just left. She just wanted to get back to her room. Damn Malfoy, anyway. This was all his fault!

What the hell did she think she was doing, Draco asked himself as he jumped up from his table. She wasn't really going to show his pictures to her stupid friends, was she? He finally figured out what her revenge was going to be: she was going to show his drawings around for the entire school to laugh at. Then everyone would know just how obsessed he'd become with this girl! Not if he had anything to say about it! Keeping his eye fixed on her, Draco made his way toward Ginny's table. He was almost there when he saw her snatch the book back from her friend and smash right into a boy behind her. It slowed her a bit, but she still the jump on him. She pushed her way through the crowd and disappeared out the door.

Draco got trapped in a crowd of girls heading to the loo. Did they always have to travel in flocks, he wondered angrily, trying to get past them without actually knocking them all aside. Finally he made the door and slipped out. Ginny was nowhere to be seen. Then he heard her footsteps on the stairs and followed. She was just making the landing and starting up another flight. Draco ran faster, gaining on her. Thankfully there was no one else about to get in his way. Her long robe and the dress shoes she'd worn hampered her, and Draco was able to catch her up quickly.

"Weasley!" he called when he was close. "Wait!"

Ginny heard Draco's voice and panicked. She tried to go faster, but her legs got tangled in her robes and she nearly pitched headlong into the stairs. Before she could untangle herself, she felt the staircase begin to move and grabbed wildly for the railing, letting the sketchpad drop to her feet.

Draco just had time to leap onto the stairway when it began to move. He held tightly to the banister, then, when he had his balance, he began to climb. Ginny saw him coming, but couldn't move.

"Stay away, Malfoy!" she yelled, looking around to see where the staircase was coming to a stop. "Just leave me alone!"

Draco was only a few steps away when the stairs jolted to a halt. Ginny snatched up the pad and flew up the remaining stairs. And skidded to a stop! The small doorway at the top of the steps led to a corridor only about ten feet long, which ended in a blank wall! She turned back, but it was too late. Draco was already off the stairs and moving slowly toward her. This was too much! Now feeling more angry than upset, she set her feet, dropped the sketchpad to the floor, and held her fists up the way her brothers had taught her.

Draco eyed her warily. If it had been any other girl at school standing there ready to fight him, he'd be laughing his ass off. But he already knew how strong she was, he suspected that she might be just as dirty a fighter as he, and now she was cornered. He would win, if it really came to a fight, of course. He knew he would eventually overpower her if he just wanted to wrestle her to the ground. But he didn't want to fight with her. The thought of striking her made him shudder! He just wanted to talk, to get the stupid sketchpad back! It was his, after all! Holding up both hands to show he meant her no harm, he came a bit closer.

She glared at him and firmly placed a foot on the sketchpad.

"That's mine, Weasley," Draco growled as she kicked the book behind her.

"Yeah? Well, come get it, Malfoy!" she snapped, lifting her fists higher.

"Look, I just want the book back, right? I'm not going to hurt you."

He watched her face freeze in the basilisk glare. He braced himself.

"Huh, like you could, Malfoy," she jeered.

They both heard the loud rumble as the staircase slid away and moved to its former position. She jumped, startled, and dropped her hands for a second. Her eyes flew toward the opening to the corridor. Draco lunged at her right then, taking her by surprise. But Ginny wasn't completely off guard. She stepped back and kicked out, catching him in the shin. Draco yelped and jumped back, grabbing his leg and hopping awkwardly on one foot.

"Damn it, Weasley," he hissed, glaring at her and rubbing his shin. She DID fight dirty! "What the hell is your problem? That HURT!"

"Oh, poor little baby," Ginny crooned in false concern. "And what were you going to do? Going to beat me up for your filthy little book?"

Draco stared at her. She thought he would really strike her? Was she insane, or was it him?

Ginny couldn't take his stare. She scowled at him and looked down at her new robes, now sticky and soggy. She was sure her lovely black slip and bra were equally soiled. Plucking the front of her robe away from her with distaste, Ginny pulled her wand from her pocket, gave Draco another glare, and waved it over the mess on her robes. She recited a cleaning spell Seamus had taught her when they first started going out. The liquid disappeared. Then she said another spell and the wrinkles that had formed on her bodice vanished. She had the small satisfaction of seeing the surprised look on Draco's face as she stuffed her wand back into her pocket.

"I guess I do have enough magic for THAT little spell, right?" she demanded, throwing his words back in his face.

He continued to stare at her, suddenly unable to take his eyes off her face. She wasn't an extremely pretty girl, but with her flushed cheeks and those beautiful eyes flashing at him, she was stunning. He had a feeling that he was wearing a ridiculous, infatuated look on his face, but at the moment he didn't care. Despite the basilisk look, he took an involuntary step and reached for her. She stepped back quickly, but came up short at the wall. Her foot hit the sketchpad and she glanced down at it. Snatching it up, she waved it in his face, causing him to step back or get whacked.

"Just tell me why, Malfoy? What were you thinking?" Her lip started trembling, but she continued. " How many people did you show? Did you tell everyone about the loo? How many people are laughing at me?"

Draco ran his hands through his hair and cursed. He still didn't know what to say, and watching those beautiful eyes fill with tears only made him more distracted.

"Show? Tell? I think you really are insane!" he snapped, suddenly angry that she was causing him so much turmoil. "Who could I show? Or tell? What would I say? That I saw Ginny Weasley's simple, innocent, silly little bra and it drove me crazy? That all I could think about was whether blue was the only colour she had? Gods! And who the hell wears black under a white blouse? Do you know I drove myself crazy wondering if your knickers matched? I'm so obsessed with a girl who loathes me that I followed her around, hoping for another peek at her underthings. And if that isn't bad enough, this girl, this skinny shrew of a girl who also happens to be my enemy's little sister, has me so worked up that my teammates were noticing!"

He paced back and forth before homing in on her again. "And what would my so called friends think? They'd think that I was obsessed; infatuated! They'd think that I couldn't get this foul-tempered harpy off my mind! And they'd probably assume my drawings were wishful thinking, because there would be no way I could know what Ginny Weasley's knickers looked like because a 'nice' girl like her wouldn't have anything to do with me!"

Draco had been advancing on Ginny, backing her into the corner, until she'd come up against the walls. Then he placed his hands on the walls on either side of her shoulders, trapping her as he continued his tirade. Ginny was so surprised that she barely had time to bring her hands up to his shoulders to push him away, before he was practically nose to nose with her!

"And you know what else, Ginny?" Draco felt himself losing control and fought to regain it, but he couldn't seem to stop the flood of words, embarrassing, humiliating admissions, from coming out of his mouth. "You know what?" he said again. "They'd all be right, damn you!"

Gods, what was wrong with him!? He'd just admitted that he was obsessed with her! He stood, breathing heavily and glaring at her. Her expression went from angry to disbelieving to shocked. The wide brown eyes searched his for a second before he made an angry sound and twisted away.

"Of course I didn't tell anyone. Do you think I wanted every other randy git in the castle ogling you? It was bad enough with Finnegan mooning over you, and he never saw nearly what I did!"

Ginny was speechless, trying to absorb everything he'd told her. He hadn't spoken about the loo, or what had happened in the library. He said he was obsessed with her, or rather, her knickers! He hadn't even shown anyone his drawings. Did that mean he liked her? That was insane. She looked at the book in her hands and absently opened it to the last picture. Was this what he wanted?

"Tell me, Ginny, what would you have done if I had tried to kiss you in the loo? Honestly?"

Ginny stiffened. She'd asked herself that question just hours ago. She still came up with the same answer.

"I'd have slapped you into next week, Malfoy," she retorted.

He nodded. "And if I'd tried to kiss you in the library, that first time?"

"I, er, still would have slapped you," she said, only a little less firmly. To be perfectly honest, she wasn't sure what she would have done.

Draco eyed her carefully. He moved a step closer, backing her into the corner again. Ginny brought a hand up to his chest to hold him away. He stopped and placed his hands carefully on either side of her, trapping her.

"And if I tried now?"

Ginny looked straight into his eyes, wondering what he was playing at? And what would she do? She shrugged and tried to stall.

"I, I don't understand why you're asking," she said hesitantly. "You hate me, don't you?"

Draco scowled at her but she was glaring at her shoulder. Her shrug had dislodged the stupid strap again. She reached over to drag it back up, but stopped when he placed his hand over hers.

"Yes," he said quietly, moving even closer. "I hate you very much. As much as you hate me. Do you hate me, Ginny?"

Ginny caught her breath. His voice was so soft and husky. And he was speaking right in her ear. Did she hate him? She could feel her heart start to pound as he reached for the sketchpad and dropped it to the ground again.

"I don't want you," she breathed in a wispy voice she didn't recognize. "You're conceited and mean, and you, you despise my family!"

He brushed his cheek against hers and slid his hand down her sleeve. "I don't want you, either," he insisted. "You're 'nice', and you could freeze a boy with one look! You're family doesn't appreciate pure blood!"

Draco could feel his control slipping again. He struggled to get a hold of himself, but found himself pressing ever closer to her. His hand had reached the cuff of her sleeve and he slipped it under. He shivered when he felt only smooth skin. She was wearing only the dress robe and her underwear! His hand slipped higher, to the taut skin on the inside of her elbow. Ginny gasped, but didn't move away.

"You watch me," she accused, letting her free hand rest on his chest. She could feel that his heart was pounding as hard as hers was. "You always catch me embarrassing myself! And-and those drawings." She let the last statement hang.

"I watch you because I can't help it! I draw you because you're all I see!" he answered as his fingers brushed the silky strap. He made a sound that was almost a sigh as he slipped his hand under the thin strip of material. "You make me crazy. You and this stupid, damned strap!"

Draco pushed away slightly to look into her eyes. "This strap and those eyes!" he breathed, moving his hand upward, taking the strap with it.

Ginny half closed her eyes, unable to stop him. His fingers were leaving a trail of fire in their wake and she felt herself tremble as he stopped at her shoulder. He left his hand there, under the strap, resting on her shoulder. He brought his other hand up to her other shoulder and gripped her firmly. He leaned forward, stopping barely a half-inch from her lips.

"I'm going to kiss you, Ginny," he murmured. "Should I be prepared to duck?"

Ginny's eyes had closed, but she opened them again and smiled. "I guess you'll have to take your chances, right?"

Draco grinned. How on earth had he resisted this for so long, he wondered, brushing her lips with his. He could feel her smile as he covered her mouth. He wanted to be in control, but when she melted against him and wrapped her arms around his back he knew he was fighting a losing battle. Gods, she tasted good, he thought to himself. She was still dangerous and unpredictable, especially now that she knew his weakness for her and he cursed himself for being so weak. With a mighty effort, Draco pulled his lips from hers and waited.

He stepped back a bit and watched her face. Her eyes were closed and her lips were slightly parted. He thought he could look at her flushed face and soft lips forever. When she opened her eyes, Draco braced himself for her attack. She might slap or hit or just yell, but whatever she did, he wanted to be ready. But he wasn't prepared for what she actually did.

She didn't attack him; she did something much more devastating. Her dark eyes widened slightly, then she launched herself at his neck, wrapping her arms around him tightly and pulling his mouth back to hers. When her mouth covered his, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, teasing and caressing as though she couldn't get enough of him. Draco was so surprised that at first he just stood there. As she kissed him more insistently, his knees grew weak. All Draco could do was to stumble back into the wall, pulling her with him, and holding her tightly.

Ginny couldn't stop the tremors that were traveling through her! Her sappy romances had been wrong, but only because they weren't even close to this reality! She had never felt like this with Seamus! Everywhere Draco had touched her, she felt hot and tingly. Wanting to make him feel the same, she pushed her tongue deep into his mouth to taste and caress. She felt his body stiffen in response, and wondered if she'd repulsed him with her sudden aggressiveness, since he was supposed to be power mad. But when she tried to pull away, his hands tightened on her shoulders and she felt relieved. He dragged her with him as he leaned against the wall and began to stroke down her back. Ginny pressed against him, wanting to feel his body against hers. But he was just letting her kiss him; he wasn't kissing her back! Her hands moved to his face and she pulled away to look into his eyes.

"Am I doing something wrong?" she asked quietly, embarrassed. "I know I'm not very good at this."

Draco looked at the worried expression and almost laughed. "Gods," he breathed. "If you were any better, I'd probably have a heart attack!"

He pulled her to him again and took her lips in a devouring kiss. Ginny felt a thrill go through her. This was what she wanted! Her hands fisted in the loose material at the back of his robe as she pressed close again. He ran his hands down her back and gripped her waist. He pulled her hard against him, groaning as she moved against his overheated body. Her hands moved from his back and began to work the knot in his tie. Good lord, he thought, he'd never felt like this before! And she was only kissing him! The knot slid loose and she immediately attacked the buttons on his shirt.

He brought his hands up to the front of her robe, ready to push the soft material aside and stroke over her bare skin. He stopped. She had already loosened his robe and freed half of his buttons and now she was trailing her mouth over his jaw and down his neck! As her mouth moved lower, her hands started freeing more buttons. Draco shuddered as she began tugging his shirttails from his waistband. He was shaking, but just managed to grab her hands.

Ginny had lost all control of herself. She couldn't help it! She had never been tempted to do more than kiss Seamus. He'd wanted more, but she always put the brakes on early. But she couldn't seem to get enough of Draco! His hard, lean body was tense against hers and she could feel him tremble at her touch. All she wanted now was to touch more and more of him! She could feel his blood pulsing rapidly at his neck, but she had to see more, feel more. She attacked his robe and shirt as though they were living things fighting her. Pressing kisses to any bare skin she could find, she tugged at the shirttails. Then his strong hands closed over hers!

"Wait, Ginny!" he said, his voice desperate.

Ginny stopped abruptly, embarrassed that she'd practically ravished him. Heat crawled up her neck and she knew she would be turning bright red by now. She tried to lighten the situation.

"Well, I guess that answered your question. What would I do if you tried to kiss me now? I'd rip your clothes off. Then you'd have to fight me off to defend your virtue!"

Draco stared at her for a second, taking in the embarrassed smile. Then he laughed and gathered her into his arms. Ginny wrapped her arms around him, not certain she really thought it was funny, but comforted that he hadn't stopped her because he was disgusted. She didn't know exactly why he'd stopped her, but she would find out, she was sure.

He pushed her away just enough to look at her. She was still embarrassed, but she wasn't angry or hurt. He sighed and pulled even farther away from the delicious warmth of her body.

"I-I have something to tell you," he said finally. "I wanted to explain. About the pictures and the other night, and, you know, everything. Then I was going to let you take whatever revenge you wanted."

Ginny thought about that for a moment and nodded, but moved in closer. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him.

"I suppose you're lucky I didn't have Ron's bat with me tonight," she joked. "Er, do you mind if I stay like this while you tell me whatever it is you're going to tell me?" she asked, nestling her cheek against his shoulder.

He chuckled and she smiled as his breath tickled her ear. "If you stay like this," he said, giving her a squeeze, "you might just need Ron's bat. I can barely think right now, let alone talk."

Ginny smiled again. "Talking is highly overrated," she told him. "Since you're leaving soon, wouldn't you rather be, er, doing something more productive?"

He stiffened and pulled her chin up to look at her face. "You knew I was leaving? How?"

"Charles told Vi, Vi told me." Ginny shrugged, ignoring the strap that had slid down. "She just didn't know exactly when."

He raised one eyebrow. "And what did you do when you found out?"

Ginny grinned, embarrassed, and dropped her head. "I cheered," she admitted. "I said we should celebrate the next day."

She gave him another shrug and explained, "That was before I knew what an evil seducer of poor, innocent, defenseless little girls like me you were. And how good you are at it."

He started to say something, but couldn't seem to think of an appropriate comment at first. Then he said, amazed, "Defenseless? Innocent? I think dangerous and unpredictable is more accurate, don't you?"

Ginny batted her eyelashes and said, "Dangerous? Me? I think you must be temporarily insane, Malfoy."

"Its Draco," he replied, "And the only insane thing I ever did was to let you get away without kissing you in the loo!"

"Yeah," she agreed. "Maybe you should correct that mistake right now. Especially if you're leaving next week."

She leaned against him and started to press her lips against his, but he caught her shoulders and stopped her again.

"Ginny, I'm not a noble person and this is hell on me! But I have to tell you, before I do anything you might regret, that I'm not leaving next week." He looked sadly at her as he continued. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

Ginny stared at him for a second, sure she had heard wrong. "T-tomorrow?"

He nodded and pulled her against him, holding her tightly. "Lord knows I'd love to make up for all the time I wasted but I wanted you to know first. I'll probably be gone before you wake up."

Ginny bit her lip. What a mess. She was in lust. Draco was apparently in lust. And he was leaving tomorrow. He was being honorable by letting her know that if they started something, he wouldn't be around to finish it. Ginny shyly began to re-button his shirt.

Draco watched her closely the whole time, damning himself for the unexpected fit of nobility that had made him stop her before they went too far. That was not like him, at all. But he couldn't have done anything else, he realized. Not with this girl. When she'd tightened the tie, he wrapped his arms around her and held her against him.

Finally she said, "That's not much time, but there are SOME things we could do until you have to go, right?"

She promptly began to blush again. Would he want to kiss her, knowing it wasn't leading anywhere? He lifted her chin again and Ginny caught her breath at the expression in his eyes.

"You mean like this?" he breathed before covering her mouth again.

She didn't really know how long they stood there, kissing and hugging. It was quite some time, though, and what brought them back to the present was the sound of the stairs, moving again, sliding back into position at the entry of their hidden corridor. Draco pulled his mouth away from a particularly ticklish spot on Ginny's neck.

"Damn," he muttered. "Do you think it'll go away if we ignore it?"

Ginny turned and muttered her own expletive, causing Draco's eyebrows to shoot up. Suddenly Ginny giggled. Draco looked at her, giving her a questioning look. She caught his eye and laughed louder. He gave her a twisted smile, still a bit bemused.

"What's so damned funny?" he demanded.

"Nothing!" she gasped. "It's just that," she couldn't seem to get the words out.

Draco frowned, trying to catch the words she was struggling to get out.

"Never-noticed-me-before! All-because-," she choked between laughs, "of- knickers!"

Draco finally understood. He wouldn't have noticed her if he hadn't walked in on her in the loo and become obsessed with her underwear! He started chuckling himself. It was funny in a twisted sort of way, when you thought of it! Soon they were both laughing uproariously. Ginny had collapsed on Draco's chest and could barely breathe. Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. As their laughter finally subsided, though, he pulled her chin up again.

"You're wrong, you know," he murmured, brushing her lips with his. "I think I would have noticed you, no matter what."

Ginny smiled as he kissed her. She doubted he would have looked at her twice if he hadn't seen her half nude first, but it was nice of him to say so. Then he touched his tongue to her lips and she forgot about everything else.

He pulled away quickly, though. Looking toward the stairway, he sighed.

"No knowing when it's going to be back," he said with a frown.

"I guess we better get on while we have the chance?" she suggested.

Draco didn't want to. He had such a short time left. And despite what had happened here, he knew that they might go back to being enemies as soon as they stepped onto the stairway. Straightening, he stepped away from the wall he'd been leaning against since her first devastating kiss. He picked up the sketchpad and handed it to Ginny.

"Burn it," he said suddenly.

"Burn it? Why?" How could he suggest that she destroy it now? Was he ashamed?

"What if someone sees it? Think of your reputation! Your family would never forgive you if they thought you were sleeping with me!"

Ginny frowned. "Are you sure you're not more concerned with YOUR reputation? I'm not up to your usual standard, right?"

Draco sighed. Maybe the stairway would move, after all, if they were going to sit here and argue about something so stupid.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked.

Ginny looked at him, hard. She knew that he could probably make her believe whatever he wanted, damn him. And she wanted to believe that he was really just trying to protect her.

"No, I suppose not," she said finally.

"Good!"

He took her arm and led her to the staircase. He pulled her around to look at her, smoothing back the tendrils of hair that had come loose.

"I love your hair like this," he murmured, tucking a strand behind her ear. "You look-stunning."

She smiled at him, making his heart thump. God, those lips were just made for kissing! Instead of kissing her, though, he took her arm again and stepped onto the stairway. As soon as they were both firmly on it, it moved to a different archway. This one led to another staircase that would take them up to Gryffindor or down to Slytherin. As they moved onto the landing, Draco took Ginny's hand. He became very serious.

"Tell me I'm the first one to really kiss you!" he demanded suddenly. "Tell me that Finnegan didn't count!"

"I-er, no one ever kissed me like that, Draco," she admitted, feeling a bit guilty, but knowing it was true. "You're the only one who made me feel that way!"

"Good!" he said. "I wish we had more time. I-we-ah, shit!" He looked away, his expression as bleak as she'd ever seen it. "I-I'll probably never see you again."

Ginny nodded sadly. He would go to Durmstrang and forget about her. He would follow his father and become a Deatheater. He would fight for You- Know-Who and become her enemy again.

"Will you write me? At least once?"

Ginny stared. His question was completely unexpected and it took her off guard.

"Of-of course! If you want me to!" she stammered.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms once more. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want you to," he told her. "Now, kiss me and tell me good-bye. I'll be gone early."

Ginny kissed him, hard, with all the feeling she could put into it. When they finally broke apart, Ginny had tears in her eyes. It wasn't fair! But she wouldn't let him see her cry!

Giving him a small smile, she said, "If you write me, I'll write back. Good night, Draco. And good-bye! Take care of yourself."

Then she turned and fled.

Draco knew he wouldn't get any sleep. He'd wanted to confront Ginny and get everything out in the open. He'd had no idea things would end up as they had. He had told her the truth, though, on more subjects than he'd bargained for. He was convinced that he would have noticed her anyway, one way or the other, even if the train incident hadn't happened. He'd told her how he'd been obsessed with her and her damn knickers. He'd even confessed that his drawings, especially the last one, had been wishful thinking on his part. And she had accepted his explanations with humor and with an affection he had no right to expect. But he'd kept one important truth from her. He hadn't told her that after their first kiss, he'd not only lost control, lost his head, but he'd lost his heart. And since he'd never see her again, he would never tell her.

He paced up and down the Common Room until it was time to leave. House- elves came for his trunk, whisking it away. He followed more slowly, wishing, despite the early hour and not telling her when he was leaving, that Ginny would suddenly appear, running down the stairs to say good-bye. He didn't look up, though. He knew she wouldn't be there.

Professor Snape, however, was there, at the door, waiting for him. Draco wondered what Snape wanted. To congratulate him for finally escaping this pile?

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said in his usual dry voice. "So, you're off to Durmstrang, after all?"

Being Draco's Head of House, Professor Snape had naturally been told. Draco nodded.

"Yes, sir," he said. "It's what I've been waiting for."

Snape raised one eyebrow. "Indeed? Even after last night?"

Despite his surprise, Draco kept his face neutral. "Last night, sir? Did something happen last night?"

Draco didn't like the smile that crossed the Potions Master's face. It was a smug, knowing smile. "Obviously not, Mr. Malfoy. One apparently can't believe everything one hears."

Then Snape dropped the smile. "Regardless of whatever did or didn't happen last night, Mr. Malfoy, it's not too late to change your mind. You can finish your year here, and then, if you still feel compelled to follow that path." he left the sentence to hang for a moment.

What was he trying to get at, Draco wondered? Was Snape really trying to warn him away from Durmstrang? Did he really think five more months of this place might make any difference in Draco's life? Or had his father set this up as a sort of challenge to test his resolve? Ginny's face flashed in front of him, and he hesitated. If he stayed, he'd be able to see her again. Every day! Hell, who knew? They might even be able to work things out. Abruptly, a vision of Ron Weasley and his family, along with Potter, Granger, and even Ginny's two friends, ostracizing her for being with him assailed him. All the wishful thinking in the world wouldn't change the way most everyone here felt about him. Nor would it change the way he felt about most of them. He straightened his shoulders and tugged his gloves on.

"I'm not changing my mind, sir," he finally answered. "I'm meant for Durmstrang. I should have gone there from the start."

Snape frowned, but nodded. "Just remember, Mr. Malfoy, your destiny isn't written in stone. You may always change it, if you're strong and if you want to. Good luck, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco took the hand the Potions Master offered, then pulled up the hood of his cloak. He stepped out of the warm castle into the cold of pre-dawn. It was still very dark, and a light snow drifted from the cloud-choked skies. Draco ran down the steps to the waiting carriage. The door opened and the step lowered. Draco put his foot on the step, and turned for one last look at the castle. As he looked up, the castle door opened and a tall, slender figure waved to him. Ginny! The carriage began to move and Draco leaped into the doorway. He stuck his head out of the window and waved wildly. Ginny waved back and started down the steps, almost slipping. Draco saw Professor Snape hurry out to help her. She shook off his hands and waved again. He watched, waving, until the carriage swept around a curve and out of sight.

Ginny was just sitting down to breakfast when Vi, Jess and Colin joined her. Vi was spending almost all of her free time with Charles, and Jess and Colin were now officially going out. After the Christmas holidays, many boys had wanted to go out with Ginny, but she wasn't interested. Oddly, no one seemed to have noticed Draco following her out of the dance except Vi and Jess. So no one seemed to connect her sudden withdrawal with Draco's transfer to Durmstrang. Jess and Vi had finally cornered Ginny and forced the story from her. They had enough of the small details to know there was one big story there, so she finally told them to get them off her back. They were astounded, to say the least. It had been a nine-days wonder, to be sure, but the novelty finally wore off.

March was here, and Ginny had gotten two letters from Draco. The first was short and impersonal. He gave her his address, asked her again to write, and said briefly that he missed her. That was all.

She'd written back; not a gushing love letter, but a letter telling him what was happening, what she'd been doing, and that she, too, missed him.

His next letter had been much longer. The Durmstrangers were just as idiotic as most of the Hogwarts bunch. The main difference in the schools seemed to be that Durmstrang concentrated on teaching more about the Dark Arts than did Hogwarts. It was horridly cold, and much too far away. He told her that he was still sketching, and now even played with paints a bit. He hoped she'd taken care to make sure no one would ever see the sketchpad except herself. He missed her. He'd had a letter from his mother that was a bit worrisome but he would give her more details when he had them. He'd signed it simply, 'Draco'. Ginny sighed as she watched the owls deliver the mail. The last letter had been a month ago and she had answered it with more eagerness and affection than she'd meant to. She hadn't received a return letter.

Maybe he had put their encounter into proper perspective, she had decided. It wasn't as though they'd known each other all that well. It was just a case of unrequited lust. Ginny told herself that she was probably better off without someone like Draco Malfoy, anyway, knowing it was bullshit, but needing to find an excuse for him forgetting all about her.

Ginny couldn't forget him, though. Stupid as it was, she felt like he was branded on her heart. She kept remembering that last night, after the dance. The few kisses had been breathtaking and beautiful and she wished wistfully that there had been more time for them to be together. And she couldn't forget that he had stopped her when she'd practically dragged his clothes off. He had been honorable, not letting things get out of hand when he wouldn't be there for her later. It was a good thing, too. She'd feel even worse if she'd slept with him and he'd forgotten her so quickly.

One particularly large and handsome owl suddenly landed right in front of Ginny. There was a small letter in its claw. Ginny gasped as she recognized Draco's owl. His last two letters had been from school owls! Ginny took the letter quickly, glancing down the table to see if Ron or his friends had noticed. They were chatting away contentedly, not looking at her. She offered the handsome creature some of her breakfast, but it rustled its wings and took off.

"Wow, Ginny!" Jessica turned away from Colin for a second to grab Ginny's arm.

"That was Malfoy's owl, wasn't it?" she whispered.

Ginny nodded, unable to stop a silly smile. He hadn't forgotten about her!

"Well, open it!" Jess urged. "Or are you going to lock yourself up in our room and miss Hogsmeade again, to read his letter?"

Ginny had skipped the last two trips into town, not feeling like going. She didn't want to read the letter here, though. She grinned at Jess. "Maybe," she said happily.

Dear Ginny, I'm sorry it's been so long, but I've been very busy. My mother has left Father and I'm going to escort her to family in France. When I get her settled there, I'll return to London. I have some family matters to clear up, and then I'll be working at my new position. I'm sorry I can't tell you more about it, but remember that you're always in my thoughts. I wish things had worked out differently. (there was something scratched out here) I have to hurry now, but when you go to Hogsmeade next, be sure to stop at the post office. There should be a package there for you. When you look at it, remember me and what could have been. (another scratched out line)

Take care of yourself, Draco

"Ginny! Wait up!" Vi called.

Ginny had joined Jess and Vi as they were leaving the Common Room. They were going to meet Colin and Charles in Hogsmeade and as soon as they'd left the Hogwarts grounds, Ginny had started walking fast.

As the two shorter girls caught up with Ginny, Jess grumbled, "What's the rush? Is Hogsmeade going somewhere?"

"I just want to get to the post office," Ginny answered. "Do you mind if I meet you at the 'Broomsticks?"

Vi panted with the exertion of trying to keep up with Ginny's long legs. "Go ahead," she said, making 'shooing' motions. "We'll see you there."

Ginny entered the post office and walked to the counter.

"Need an owl, dear?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"Er, no, I think there's a general delivery package for me," she said nervously.

The woman smiled and nodded. "Right, then. Your name?"

"Weasley. Ginny Weasley."

The woman bustled out of view. Ginny could hear her rummaging around, mumbling to herself. Then she called, "Right, dear, here it is."

The woman brought out a large package. It was about a foot square and three inches deep. Ginny looked curiously at it, wondering what on earth it could be.

"There you are, Miss Virginia Weasley," the woman smiled, reading the address label.

"Er, do I owe you anything?" Ginny took the package and hefted it. It was sort of heavy, but didn't feel solid.

The post woman assured her that postage had already been paid and Ginny walked out. Sitting on the bench outside the building, Ginny huddled deeply into her heavy cloak and untied the string around the package. The thick brown paper crackled as she removed it. Then she gasped.

It was a painting! A portrait of her! Only her head and shoulders were showing. Her hair was as it had been at the dance, and she was wearing the dress robe and cameo choker. He'd made her eyes soft and alluring, and she had just a trace of a smile on her face. Gods, she looked beautiful! Ginny turned it over and saw an envelope taped to the back of the canvas. Carefully removing it, she balanced the painting on her lap and ripped open the letter. Just a few words, but enough.

'For Ginny, What I see when I close my eyes. Draco'

He'd dated and signed it. Ginny looked at the painting again, the silly grin still plastered to her face, and started crying.