Discalimer: Well. Do I look like I own anything?

A little note.

Hm. The formatting is actually intended. The writing is supposed to be in the middle. It's actually a lot easier for me to read this way. That's why all my stories are written in this format. Grammar errors... eh. Will do my best to correct those; go easy on me. ;)

Oh and to my fav review so far:

"He is a bastard, and she is a weak minded person."

Well, I suppose it's my fault. Though, I dont think she's weak minded. You see, the plot line of most D and G's is this:


Good girl + Bad boy = Love.

The fanfic writers that use this plot portray the way they fall in love differently, but in almost all of them, the bad boy is not at all bad and the good girl is not at all good.

And I still dont think she's weak minded. He's a bastard, yes, but she...I dont know. Its more complex than that...They have a weird relationship, and in this I am stating that they are in fact, from chapter one, in a relationship. You might not see it, but its there...

Hm. Is she weak minded in this chapter?

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Aflame.....

...Sneaking after midnight in nothing but a robe to hide her pgs, Ginny slithered along the hallways, praying feverishly for anything to distract Filch and Mrs. Norris from finding her way.

It was a little bit optimistic of her to think that she could finish the paper that she'd been working on for the last two weeks in nothing longer than a few hours.

See, she still didnt find her project...(God, did she need a binder)

Climbing the small flight of steps, her slippers whispering across the checkered shiny floors, she grasped the ancient handle and opened the door.

Creeping in and shutting herself inside, she glanced around the room, holding her breath incase she found someone inside...

And holding her breath she did.

Until, it escaped her in an involuntary whoosh at the sight of him leaning against the window.

He was in his daytime cloths, save only for the absence of his white crisp shirt. His undershirt left nothing to the imagination, his bare arm locked just under his lean stomach.

His back was facing her, his left hand, clad in a leather wristband, was lazily caressing the reflective image of the moon on the crystal clear panes.

His long fingers hypnotizing her with each stroke, she desperately wanted to shake herself out of her trance and move out the way before he noticed her.

She was stopped by the uttered line,

"' I have promises to keep'...."

"...........'And miles to go before I sleep'..."

He was now facing her with all his glory; the same patch of strands obscuring his left gaze from her, and his mouth set in a grim line.

Opening his arms for her, offering her his warmth, Ginny found herself numbly walking to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her hips and press her to his chest. He nuzzled her neck, and Ginny found herself arching obediently against him, allowing him better access to it.

After he breathed her in, he added with amusement that now she smelled marginally better than the last time.

Blinking, Ginny paused for a second before lashing out with her glare and backing away from his now laughing self.

What just happened? She thought dazedly, aware in some demented particle inside her being, a person arguing once and again, that she now smelled better than before.

After all, she showered and bathed...And she always smelled good, she argued. It was just that one afternoon...

Aware now of his amused glance, she turned her back against him and proceeded to storm out of the room.

He mildly, too mildly if you asked her, voiced the question that stopped her mid dash,

"What are you doing here?"

Pausing for second, not once unaware of her state of dress, she picked at the ruffled edges of her pink robe and thought a million lies.

Suddenly, the last thing on her mind was uttered from her traitorous mouth,

" Snape was summoned on Friday, wasn't he? Thats why you had to fill his place...-"

It was to no one's surprise that Ginny found herself dangled by the throat harshly against the rough texture of the wall. His calm stare bore sparks in her, and wherever they landed, her body trembled from the trepidation it caused.

His anger was boiling just under the surface.

She managed to choke out Harry's name from somewhere and was immediately disposed off, but only to land brutally at the base of his legs.

He took no notice, for he was currently cursing the living daylights of the boy who lived and lived and lived, as he so lovingly calls him. He kept muttering something about 'not being able to keep his mouth shut' and possibly 'endangering the risk of Snape being found out' and other numerous things.

It took a moment for him to finally take notice of the crumpled heap laying next to his polished shoes. The crumpled heap that was currently coughing her eyes out.

Sighing irritably at her, he caught her by the elbows and used the wall to settle her on. Now leaning weakly against it, she looked at his impassive face and brushed at the lingering tears that were necessary companions when one was being squeezed out of his life.

She eyed his small sardonic smirk with malice in her eyes. The image so transformed her, it took even Draco by surprise. It was bad enough having been treated this way, it was even worse when she was made fun off. By him. When no one was around.

Her hate filled words were even more unexpected,

"Dont you realize" She paused, deliberately narrowing her eyes, "that there are enough people to hate in this world already," She paused again at his amused expression. "Without you putting in so much effort to give us another. "

"'Let them hate, so long as they fear'" He quoted, an aloof answer to her heated accusations.

"'You have such a February face'", she suddenly snapped, adding the latter with more threat than would have been expected from her small being, "So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness'"

His mocking scorning expression told her in no uncertain terms that he now was in no mood to trifle with her.

Hurt, as well as dejected, Ginny forced her labored breath to calm. Two of her lame attempts at snapping were easily fired back at her, twice as sharp.

She was still leaning against the wall heavily, raging against his mockery, and when she made to leave, she was pressed unceremoniously back against it by a slender palm.

Catching his challenging gaze, the rage now a full-fledged wave of fury, she let out a small growl and pushed against the palm that was now laying treacherously on her upper chest.

In less than a second, she was forced back, with vicious strength, against the wall.

She pushed back up, and was forced back down.

Pushed back up and was forced back down against the wall.

Up and Down.

Exhausted and breathing more laboriously, Ginny turned her head away from Draco's penetrating stare. Not noticing the way his eyes darkened, or the parting of his lips.

"Tell me what you're doing here." He commanded huskily.

Unaware of his now uneven state, Ginny turned her head sharply back at his direction and pushed with all her force against his palm.

When she reached a breadth space from his face, inwardly surprised that she wasn't being pushed back already, she whispered subtly, "Why weren't you at Lunch, yesterday?"

His hooded gaze caused her body to shake and shudder, and leaning closer to her face, their breath mingling, he questioned her again, not the least diverted by her last question.

When she didnt answer, he forced her against the wall again, with one hated powerful push of his palm. Striking the wall with her back again, she let out a whimper and a growl in one and pushed back again.

Only to meet, not his palm, but his own body.

As he forced her back against the wall, Ginny found her self battling against a number of violent emotions.

"Tell me," He whispered wildly against her neck, not at all the same frosty aloof person she accused him of being a moment earlier.

Ginny soon forgot the ability to speak. Feeling her body rise and fall against his own, feeling his chest so intimately pressed against her, was so chillingly exhilarating that she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her mouth.

Now growling, he caught a fistful of her robe and lifted her towards him, away from the wall, pressing her to him, desperate for her contact.

As if he couldn't stand the thought of not touching me, Ginny thought crazily...

Her thoughts were soon cut by the rushing of air against her ears, as she was pushed back against the wall, his body covering hers again.

Only to be lifted, meeting him once, to then be pushed back by his body, against the rough wall. The friction it caused, the moans it evoked were so foreign to Ginny that she held tightly to the source that was causing her her internal struggle.

Pushing and pressing he did, back and forth on her. A rhythm that spoke volumes and raged a surge of streaming sensations on her little body.

Her protests were half felt, her whimpers an echo in the quietness of the room, save only for his now strenuous breathing.

They stopped, reluctantly so, for he still kept his arms around her and she still buried her head under his chin.

"I wanted to find…my project...its...its missing. I-"

"I.. know."

"Wh... What?"

"I've got it in my office. I needed yours to check on something." Was his vague response, his voice calm and level again. It took all her self-control not to move away from his embrace. Feeling his chin move above her head, she tightened her arms around him when she felt it close. He opened it again and answered her questions.

"Snape was summoned that Friday." He hesitated then continued, " I was summoned yesterday during Lunch."

When he felt her arms slacken, he added bitterly, "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

Two lonesome figures wrapped so naturally around eachother, in a room that silence ruled, in a castle they called home, in a world thats on the throes of loosing control.

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Ginny checked her watch and waved farwell to Hermione, wishing her good luck on seducing her brother.

It was the day of the ball, and Ginny slept little that night after waving her goodbyes to a once again impassive Draco.

Grabbing a nearby book, she landed on her bed and read the night away.

A couple of hours later, Ginny grabbed her robes, the pink fluffy ones, and draped them on, before tiptoeing her way down the Tower's stairs to where the entrance of the Great hall lay.

Here she could clearly see their newspaper's stand, where they decided to lay them, so that whomever was going to enter the Great hall would just reach out and grab one and enter the ball.

Colin's idea...

As Ginny was leaning against the banister, she saw a hint of a dark silhouette. Leaning more of her weight on the railing, she saw Draco with a couple of first years.

He was wearing the same half scorning, half amused smile on his face, as he was obviously trying to explain something simple to the first years.

More leaning and Ginny was able to see the thing that Draco was holding to the youngsters. He was leaning down on one knee; apparently very aware of how small and short they were compared to his great length.

Amused, Ginny watched as they nodded in understanding and pointed to the newspaper held in Draco's hand.

As she narrowed her eyes, she caught sight of the article they were so confused about, and inwardly gasping she found it to be her own.

The one she worked daily on. The one explaining what dangerous era the magical world was coming to. How we could protect ourselves and how knowledgeable we should be to fight against the Dark arts.

Not an easy thing to try to explain to an 11 year old...

Oh well.

Laughing softly, she risked another glance and found her eyes meeting the empty hallow stands near the doors of the Hall.

Yes!

They sold out!

Unaware that she was now running down the stairs and right past the now scared first years and an open mouthed Draco, she touched the stands dazedly, marveling at how empty and bare they were...

Jumping around suddenly, she caught sight of a very freaked Draco, and laughed openly at his expression. Earning herself one of his real genuine smiles, she glanced at the first years and offered to help them understand-

They were gone before she even finished her sentence.

"You can't blame them. That robe can scare anyone out of their wits."

He smirked suddenly when he added, albeit a little spitefully" Maybe we can dress Harry in it, let him fight Voldermort with it on."

At her slightly disapproving stare, he shrugged carelessly and opened his arms for her.

Pink fuzzy robe and all, she went willingly to his embrace, tucking her head under his chin and marveling at how safe she felt.

"You'll find a new binder outside your window tomorrow, with your first draft in it." At her wide-eyed adoring gaze, he added hastily, " You're disorganized, messy and you obviously need help. Its the least I can do."

Ginny settled for a grin for her knight in slightly tarnished armor…

Risking a small kiss on the sensitive skin under his chin, she felt his arms tighten around her, and felt him murmur in her ear, "Come on, let's work on your lousy chaser skills."

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Kay...weird ending...And Lots of quoting was done by Ginny and Draco, people...Oh, Golden line is somewhere up there...

If you haven't figured out the clues, puzzles or the actual Golden Line, wait for the next chapter.
*Evil smirk*