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It seemed that, in the insanity that had been the massive deatheater attack, Draco Malfoy had been the only one to witness my sudden surge of my power, my 'powerfulness'. Apart from the now dead deatheater, that is. But I doubt he even knew what hit him. I doubt he knew that I, the littlest Weasley, was going to murder him. Because that's exactly what it was, a murder. Even if the victim was certainly an assassin too, I had committed murder.

That single thought haunted me, the events replaying themselves over and over again in my pretty little head. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. After all, it's understandable since I had nothing else to think about. Of course, immediately after it had happened I was worried, but when I found out that no one I knew (rather no one I was close to) had been killed, I had nothing to worry about except the fact that I was a murderer with strange powers. And that Draco Malfoy knew it. Thrust me, you don't want a Malfoy knowing something like that about you.

I mean, just by telling his father or any other deatheater kid for that matter he could put me in serious danger. If Tom ever heard that I, the little Weasley his young self possessed back in my first year, have such powers than surely he would want me on his side. And I don't know if I could resist him. After all, he's already had me on his side once, so why would I succeed in opposing myself to him?

It was on the train ride back to Hogwarts for my sixth year that I had the opportunity to stop Malfoy from talking. I was sitting with the golden trio in a compartment, reading a pretty good muggle book while Harry and Ron were playing chess, watched by Hermione, when Draco Malfoy entered. Once again, I didn't even need to look up to know it was him who had just slid the door open. His power preceded him. I put my book aside and cursed inwardly as the members of the dream team stood up with a groan and faced Malfoy. They had just ruined my chances of having a perfectly civilized conversation with Draco. A perfectly civilized conversation that could easily have turned into another murder if he would have refused to keep what he saw for himself.

"What do you want, Ferret boy?" That's good; insult him before he even opens his mouth. That way you'll be sure to pick up a fight. Way to go Ron.

"Why do you care, weasel?" replied Draco Malfoy lazily as he leaned against the doorframe. It was then that I noticed his goons weren't standing stupidly behind him, groaning for lack of witty insult to contribute to the banter. That meant Malfoy certainly wasn't there to pick up a fight.

When his eyes darted towards for a millisecond, I understood what he was here to talk about. Well, It merely confirmed what I was thinking, since I was almost sure of his motives for approaching a compartment full of filthy Gryffindors, as he most likely thought of the dream team and myself.

"We don't care, we simply want you to leave us alone, so sod off." Harry had said this menacingly and if it hadn't been Malfoy, the person on the receiving end of that comment would most likely have been at least slightly intimidated by the now 6 foot tall boy. But it wasn't anyone, it was Malfoy, and Harry's threatening tone had done nothing but cause a light sparkle of amusement in the depth of Malfoy's eyes.

"I won't 'sod off', as you so 'menacingly' put it, until I have a word with her." Drawled Malfoy, still impassively leaning against the doorframe, half inside the compartment, half in the corridor. He hadn't even moved his head or even his silver eyes when he had referred to me as 'her'.

"What do you want with Hermione?" asked Ron protectively. I should have had thought he wouldn't remember my presence.

"I believe it isn't Potter who needs glasses. Even with that horrid flashy hair of hers you don't even see your own sister." Smirked Malfoy. I cringed inwardly at the comment on my hair. I could definitely consider another murder.

Everyone, the dream team and smirking Malfoy that is, then looked expectantly at me. Without a word I stood up, took my book and exited the compartment, Malfoy following me close behind after closing the compartment door. We came to a halt at the end of the train and I walked into the very last compartment in which no one ever sat (they were all too lazy to walk all the way to there) and sat down beside the window. I expected Malfoy to sit down as well, but instead he stood still, looking at me oddly. I instantly noticed that his shield was down and that he was easily readable.

Reluctantly, I allowed my face and body to show my emotions. After all, if he was showing himself to me, it was only fair that I do the same.

"I…well, I…" mumbled Malfoy. I raised one questioning eyebrow at him.

"I said I'm sorry for that hair comment." Said Draco, looking down at the ground.

Now both eyebrows shot up. It was the first time I saw a Malfoy apologizing. It's then that I realized what he was doing. He was getting me to thrust him. He showed me a part of what he felt, but not everything. It seems complicated, but let's just say Draco Malfoy has more control than every single person I have ever met, me included.

"It's okay, but why did you want to speak to me?" I was playing innocent. He knew I knew what this was all about.

"You know I saw what happened." He looked up into my eyes and suddenly his façade was back up, he was hiding some emotion. Fear maybe? Hell, I would be afraid if I was in his place. After all, he was alone with the girl he had seen using those strange…well, powerful powers only a few days ago.

"I do."

"Your eyes." He was acting strange. Not that I know how he usually acts, but this conversation would have been strange with anyone.

"What about them?" once again, my eyebrow showed my confusion.

"They're brown." Where was he going? I knew my eyes were brown. "They were purple when you killed that man."

My head was instantly filled with angry thoughts at his words and I must have had sent him a murderous glare, but I can't clearly remember anything of that moment except my thoughts; 'Thanks for remembering me I'm a murderer. And for your own information, a deatheater is not a man. It's a cruel, heartless…wait, had Draco just said that my eyes were purple?' I was left speechless as realization dawned on me.

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Chapter three completed! Mean cliffie, isn't? You'll have to review to know what exactly is Ginny… I love to be mean ; ) !! Anyway, thank you all for you reviews, you all make me want to write more ^^ ! I know this chapter wasn't as good as the last, but this is how it came out, sorry if I disappointed you, but I still hope you'll review.

******I'm starting an interactive fic!! If any of you want to send me their characters, by e-mail or by reviewing the fic I'll sooo originally name "Interactive fic" for now, than go ahead! It will be a Ginny/Draco fic, from Ginny's POV ******

~Durfaniel~