A/N: *phew* Chemistry is over. Finally! *yay for Jen!* I think I did halfway decent. Anyway.

Wow … you guys are incredible. I really don't deserve half the praise I got from that last chapter. You really are awesome! Yes, I mean you!

Ok, this is a pretty long chapter, hang with me though … I decided to unleash 2 secrets at once *mwahaha* Can you handle it? I'll have to end with a clyffie though. I can't be too nice.

Thanks again to everyone for your helpful reviews and awesome encouragement. *smiles happily* I feel so loved!

Much thanks to:

old school rocker

BigRed2006

megghy

tay

Penny Shirley

Darcy16

dracomio

maggie

Americasweetie

Lady Cecilia

Laura – wow. There is no higher compliment. I have just been compared to the Joanne Kathleen Rowling. *bows and kisses Laura's feet* I love you! Thanks so much!

Jenalla – You're too kind! Thanks for supporting me on the doppel gänger of Draco … I'm not sure how well this would fly. I tried to keep the same character; but an abused child will feel the same pain as the next. Ok, I'll stop rambling, but thanks for reading! I'm so glad you like it =)

Angel Black1 – you are awesome. Simply awesome. You reviewed every single chapter! *huge toothy grin* thank you! And you're right, yes, this is my first fanfiction, but no, it's not my first writing. I'm an avid writer, as eager to write as some are to breathe. Thank you so much for all of your compliments! Two issues you brought up that I want to address: firstly, yes, I know, Ron really should be more oblivious than controlling. But one of his more obvious traits is that he's extremely loyal and protective, and I suppose I took a leap in equating that with pride. Anyways, as you find out in this chapter, he's too proud to let his sister work, and hence his stubborn refusal to accept it and forcing her to give it up. Hehe. Secondly, about the 6th and 7th year class mixes, that's not your fault at all, I really didn't think about it … I suppose I was just thinking along the lines of normal high schools, and how classes often have mixed age groups in them I could go back and fix that, because she's definitely in 6th year, but I'm too lazy. Let's just say Hogwarts mixes age groups in their standard classes as well. =) Alright anyway, thank you for all your support. I'm quite flattered.

Kiki – I'm so glad you like it! As for Ron's secret, it is divulged herein … And as far as Lucius being Minister and Dumbledore being Headmaster … let's just say he hasn't had need to remove him yet. *evil grin* Lucius' role will come into play further. He really can't oust Dumbledore without kicking up quite a fuss in Magical England, so he's got to have a bit of evidence first. It will come.

Lily Bell – thanks for your review! Wow … adore… you're awesome. =) You mentioned that the plot was vaguely original … have you read something similar to it? The idea is entirely mine, but if you've read something similar please tell me; I don't want to infringe on someone else's story … thanks muchly!

DrEaMiNgOfDrAcO – haha, is Ginny his cure? That is the question … I'm not going to tell you. But thank you so much for reviewing! Best g/d fic ever? Wow. *blushes beet red* It can't possibly be that good, lol, but thank you!

Elena the Eccentric – I checked up on your comment after reading your review, and nope, Hogwarts isn't free. Remember how Harry went to Gringotts with Hagrid to get the money before enrolling in Hogwarts? That was for his supplies and tuition. Again, the whole thing with the Gryffindors will be explained in this chapter, though I admit my darker side tends to emerge every now and then and spite them a little unjustly. lol, sorry, I can't control this =) Literary license. Aha … you're the first to inquire about Harry's curse. Have I wetted your appetite? hehe, all will be revealed in due time …

OffWhite – I'm so glad you like it! I looked for the series you mentioned, but couldn't find it … Thanks for the luck on finals, I can assure you I have needed every ounce.

GEmory – my ever faithful reviewer! Thanks again for reading … is it too dark? You must be frank with me. I don't want this to be one of those angsty-lets-let-out-our-gothic-nature fics … there's a time and a place for those but right now I really don't feel like killing Draco. Sorry, that was sort of a random tangent … thanks for the review! I really appreciate the comment on her powers too … I was a little apprehensive about introducing them and exercising them so soon.

Ally - *grins widely* you have no idea how awesome it is that people are recommending my story. I feel all important, lol. I'm glad you like it!

jane riddle – my favourite reviewer! lol, I'm addicted to pirates of the carribean too *sheepish grin* writer at arms, I feel special. lol, anywho, thanks for reading&reviewing, hope you like this bit.

And lastly, Ilana, because she inspires my life. Your review is as always, so cool :-p haha you make my life. Happy birthday love! Here's your late birthday present. *gives ilana a big hug* And don't give me that 'can't find any criticism crap.' There's plenty!

Wow. I really need to tone down my shout-outs. I went back and just named all of you who just kind of left awesome praise =) Sorry, there's no room to pour out my love to all of you individually! Do you have any idea how happy it makes me to say that (there's no room for all my reviewers … heaven!)?

Anyway, on to the story. Keep reading and reviewing!

Ok ok I know; it's time to admit that I'm not as creative as I pretend to be.

Disclaimer: I didn't do it! I swear! It's all J.K.'s fault!

Let's get this party started!

Chapter 6: Twisted Explanations

Draco screeched around the doors of the hospital wing and came to a sudden stop before the wide metal desk, long hands locked on muscular hips, breath coming in short gasps, and glaring at the unconcerned woman in front of him.

Four minutes ago he had been lounging lazily at his desk in Potions. There were only two classes he shared with the weasel – Divination and Potions. The whore had somehow gotten ahead in potions, damn her, and he had flunked out of 6th year Divination the year before for bitching out Trelawny when she told him his future offspring were doomed to be Hufflepuff. He hated that woman.

So anyway, he now spent seven and half hours of his week staring at those luscious red curls. Draco cringed and shook his head clear of such sacrilegious thoughts. Focus on the task at hand. Put every thing else out of your mind … the pain, the fear … the attraction.

Damnit, that wasn't part of the mantra.

As soon as the little vamp had sauntered into Potions, he had sauntered out to go to the, umm, loo. He couldn't risk her being here when he murdered Pomfrey.

Fine, not murder. But he was beginning to feel a bit murderous as he looked down at the ancient mediwitch who was calmly finishing her paragraph before sighing contentedly and setting the book down to crouch on its spine. Gracefully sliding her bifocals off the end of her nose, she gave Draco a placidly irritated look and said, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy clenched and unclenched his fists reflexively, using every ounce of strength he had to refrain from tearing the old woman's eyes out. The rush from the potion yesterday was still fresh, and he felt as strong as he ever did these days. The dark side of his soul was laying out a very convincing argument as to the benefits of massacring the old matron on the spot. But that would be exactly what Lucius would do, wouldn't it?

Draco grimaced as a painful vision of his father reincarnated itself in his mind. He felt a burst of physical tension as his arm gave way to an old wound. He remembered that one. The first time his father had stabbed him.

He cringed a little and shook it off.

"I demand that you obliviate that, that … whore, this instant. I cannot believe you set me up to tell her about it. I can't believe it! I demand you erase it from her memory!" His shouts ebbed away the pain in his arm, and he gladly let the pain flow from the wound into his words. Pomfrey shot him a disapproving look.

Draco felt his spirits deflate. He was so alone. "I thought we had an agreement, Poppy." He tried to keep the betrayal and injury out of his voice, but he knew immediately he had failed. Madame Pomfrey's eyes clouded with that familiar comforting blue haze … strangely reminiscent of the green one he had witnessed in Weasley's eyes only the day before.

The woman bustled out of her chair and devoured Draco in a tight hug. "Oh Draco, I'm sorry … I have my reasons, I promise!"

Draco wrenched himself away from her and peered into her eyes, carefully hiding his amusement from the absentminded woman's tender heart. "Just tell me what the hell happened," he said sternly.

"Draco, dear, Gin -- Virginia is good for you. I've, umm …" She offered him a heart-warming smile. "I've been, umm, researching. Reading up a bit on some of the new, latest, umm, stuff about Ruledour."

Draco raised a single pale, skeptical brow at her. Poppy was not one to know anything about the word 'latest' or to do any sort of 'reading up.' "Oh really?" he said, smirking.

She shot him a distasteful look. "Don't you look at me that way young man. I've led you through hell and back these last two years." Her naturally parental tone withered Draco instantly, his shoulders shrinking in the presence of the mother he never had. He rolled his eyes stubbornly and waited for more. "This new … thing… that I've read explicitly says that younger hands work wonders to subsiding the symptoms of a Ruledour victim. It's the, erm, contradiction of inconsistencies. You know, past and future. An old hag like me couldn't help you much in that respect." She winked at him playfully and then smiled enormously. She seemed very pleased with herself. A little too pleased?

It made sense. Still, he was highly doubtful – he had wasted valuable school time reading everything he could get his hands on about the Curse of Ruledour Nainec … and he had never once even seen a reference to any such theory. Nevertheless, he couldn't see any reason for Pomfrey to lie to him. She was an honest witch, even if she was a conniving one. She had been the only steady, unchanging and comforting entity in his life for nearly two and a half years now. Narrowing his eyes, he decided he would trust her. She had never given him reason not to.

He broke down and gave her a genuine smile. He needed someone who would just … understand him. Poppy had always been there. Defenses down, he submitted to her chatter.

Poppy beamed and acquiesced without a word. "There, see, I knew you would understand. Besides the fact that you are better tended by a younger healer, Ginny is full of compassion and skill – good ol' TLC, as we like to call it. She'll be better than medicine for you. Really. And she's more available! Any time you need her, plus all day on Sundays."

Draco waved his hands dismissively and scowled like a young child at its mother. "Back up, back up, back up. Firstly. Why the fuck would I need Virginia Weasley? And help me? The wench gives me headache every time she enters my line of sight." A nearly immaterial strand of disappointment trailed through Pomfrey's eyes, but Draco caught it. "Secondly, you mentioned Sundays. Another intriguing aspect of this whole delightful situation." He clasped his hands in mock delight. "Of all bloody days to take off, you had to take Sundays. You know perfectly well I can't come any other fucking day."

He gaped in disbelief when Poppy chuckled. She usually scolded him for such ungentlemanly outbursts. "Really, Draco, you are such a case. You just have to trust me on this one." Her faced evened out solemnly, but there was a disturbing sparkle in her eye. Draco felt suddenly on guard. "Her hands will work wonders for you." She looked at him a little too meaningfully.

How could she possibly know?

Again, Draco's sub-concsious voice was yelling at him to demand to know what it was, exactly, about Ginny that put him at such ease. But the voice died in wake of his pride. He couldn't remember a time when it had ever won.

Something was bothering him though … why didn't he feel that cool relief when any one else his age touched him?

Maybe it was because she was trained in healing arts. Yea, that was it. Ugh, I have a headache. He shook the misleading thoughts from his mind and reminded himself to trust Poppy.

Draco looked at the mediwitch fondly. He really did love her. He let her squeeze his shoulders and continue to ramble, relishing the feeling of care and devotion that surged through her wrinkled fingers.

She was babbling about how wonderful the weasel was, how helpful it was to have an assistant, how much new research she was getting done, blah blah blah. Whatever. He would trust the little bitch for now. No matter how uncomfortable – or altogether too comfortable – it made him feel.

He really didn't have any other choice.

Ginny groaned in frustration. She could feel her hair tie slowly slipping out of place as she walked as fast as she could to the hospital wing. Slipping, slipping, slipping … damn. There it goes. Her wild curls exploded in their newfound freedom and sashayed their way across her back. She made an irritated noise in the back of her throat and pressed on, papers intermittently escaping the considerable load of books that filled her arms.

She collapsed at her desk and scooped her hair into a neat bun, only to find that she now had no hairtie. Cursing silently, she secured it with a nearby quill. Several tendrils promptly escaped and found a way to conveniently block her eyesight.

Virginia screamed in frustration and hurled a book to the floor.

What is with you today? that infuriating little voice in the back of her head inquired innocently.

She rolled her eyes and let them flutter close. It was because of Draco. Every fucking time she had passed him today the breath had been knocked out of her, the pain was unbearably intense.

But then why was she angry?

It wasn't because of the stupid Ravenclaws, outspokenly disappointed that they hadn't gotten a good verbal match today.

It wasn't even because Ron had actually laughed at her when he saw her doubled up in pain after Potions.

It was because she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

He was the first person, ever, that she hadn't been able to heal, or at least get on their way to a cure. This really wasn't good. There was no cure. Was she going to be this way for the rest of her life?

She bristled visibly at the thought that her fate was now tied to Draco's. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She hated that boy.

But then that familiar feeling of angst and compassion would wash over her again, and all she wanted was to take his pain away, even if it meant dying for him. Anything to ease his agony.

"I know exactly how you feel, dear. Dying to take away someone's pain is rarely necessary though, I can assure you, even for us Healers."

Ginny yanked her head up sharply. What the …?

Poppy appeared in the doorway of her office.

"How did you …?"

Madame Pomfrey sighed and looked at her with understanding eyes. "You really need to accept what I've been trying to tell you for a week now. You're a natural healer, Ginny. One of your inadvertent abilities is being able to read another natural healer's thoughts when you're both in touch. You know, that feeling you get whenever you feel needed?" The old woman paused. "Whenever you look into Draco's eyes?"

Ginny knew what she was talking about. It was almost as if part of her stopped and another part took over. Harry had once told her she became an entirely different person when someone was hurt – that her eyes even changed colour.

She nodded sadly. "Yea, I suppose I can't deny it. You're always right. Natural Healer." She thought about this, and then eyed the witch warily. "But that's still pretty freaky. Wait … how were you in touch when I was a couple seconds ago?"

Poppy took the chair next to hers and looked into her eyes. "Your pain for him is so palpable that I can feel it. Rare, that. You've taken it on when he's not even here. It threw me into gear when you weren't even physically hurt."

Ginny could see something else in the mediwitch's eyes though … satisfaction? That didn't make sense. She shook it off.

"Poppy, I don't know what to do!" Angrily, she could feel her eyes filling with tears for the nth time in the last twenty-four hours. "I don't even really know what's wrong with him. But it bothers me so much … I don't understand!"

"I knew he wouldn't really explain it to you." Poppy exhaled patiently, sending Ginny a hopeful smile. "Ginny, you have to understand that Draco is very … reserved. He was quite," she winced a little. "… upset that I put him in a position to tell you about his curse. He asked me to obliviate you earlier today, even after I explained everything to him." The old lady sighed and refocused her wandering eyes on Ginny. "I had to. You are perfect for him – the youngest natural healer in nearly 150 years. A rare find. As soon as you leave Hogwarts, or as soon as anyone outside the school finds out, you'll be sought after from all sides of the magical world." She squeezed Ginny's hand protectively. "We'll keep you safe for a while. Anyway, what was I saying? Ah yes. I've been, umm, reading about this new thing from this new mediwizard over in, ummm … Russia, who says that victims of Ruledour are best tended by younger hands. Contradiction of the past and present and all that." She looked at Ginny hesitantly.

"Oh." Ginny's eyebrows lined delicately. "That makes sense. Ruledour .. Nainia? Something like that? It's past pain, right? I still don't know much about it … what is it, exactly? Malfoy was, like you said, really defensive."

"Ruledour Nainec. It's the curse of past pain. Everytime Draco encounters something that reminds him of anything that ever hurt him – anything, mind you – an old wound reopens. If it was physical, like a scrape when he fell down a tree when he was young, the scrape reforms itself. If it was emotional, like harsh words or blatant rejection, then his soul ... cracks, just a little bit. Those emotional wounds are the worst – they manifest themselves by eating away at his insides, his vital organs. The very first time he experienced an emotional reopening (early on in the curse, mind you), it triggered the disease. Every other time has only furthered the self-consumption that goes on within him every day. You know about Krankefluchia, don't you?"

Ginny nodded gravely, shuddering unwillingly. That deadly cross between a curse and magical illness – they were tokenly the worst tormentors and the most miserly forgivers. Cures were few and far between.

"Ruledour Nainec is a Krankefluche. The focal point is right at the base of his neck – are you well versed in that? Every Krankefluchia strain is trademarked by what's known as a focal point. Because the disease part only comes on after the curse is in place, the original curse marks you permanently because it's where the disease originates as well. The person who cursed him – Lucius, in Draco's case," The mediwitch's eyes misted over hatefully. "- therefore, leaves his mark at the place his wand touches to place the curse. That place is known as the focal point. Draco's is at the base of his neck, on his spinal column, in direct contact with his brain. For him, the pain is almost ten times worse because every time a wound is triggered, he relives the moment in his brain. The curse has very easy access to not only his soul and flesh, but his mind too. Next time he comes in, I'll have him show his FP to you. Quite a sight, especially if you've never seen one before."

Poppy's attitude became suddenly quite serious. "But on another note, Ginny dear, you can't try to argue with him about his father. Everything he knows tells him to step up to the 'challenge' his father has placed on him. He wants to live up to him, to prove something to him." She gave Ginny a pained look. "It's a child psychologist's nightmare. The boy will and has gone through any imaginable pain to gain his father's approval. But he never will achieve it - Lucius is insane. He won't let Draco go – he's a control freak. I remember him from his days at Hogwarts." Poppy shuddered again. "Evil man. But above all things, he's protective as hell of anything that belongs to him. He won't let Draco go until he becomes … him. An impossible standard."

She sighed again. "So obviously dear, it's up to us to save him. We'll do it. You and I, I can feel it. You're good for him." Poppy gave Ginny one last squeeze and left her to her schoolwork.

Just as easy as all that. Ginny sat in shocked silence. Everything was coming together … the recurring grimaces, the attitude change, even the overall nastiness. Suddenly, she couldn't blame him.

To her horror, she realized Draco Malfoy was in near constant pain.

She sure as hell hoped Pomfrey was right … because even if they couldn't do it together, Ginny felt with a renewed vengeance that she would heal him, alone or not. It was quickly becoming her sole purpose.

Poppy Pomfrey rubbed her hands in glee. Limbaugh had been right! Dumbledore had been right! But most of all, Rhiannon had been right. Draco Malfoy was going to make it.

Draco had been her sole concern for nearly two and a half years now. Right after that one fateful Christmas break had ended …

She wanted him to be healed just like any other natural healer would, but her need for his healing was nothing compared to Ginny's. It was true.

They were soulmates.

A few weeks ago, Poppy had paid a visit to an old friend who had offered to give her a reading. She didn't normally indulge in such things, they were rarely reliable. Most self-acclaimed seers were about as dependable as Trelawny. But Rhiannon had made a very disturbing prophecy – she had slipped into a hypnotic state and proclaimed that Draco Lucius Malfoy was linked to the next much-anticipated and long-foreseen natural healer. She would not only be able to ease his pain, but over time she would "ease his spirit." Poppy really didn't like abstract, flighty words like that, but she imagined that it meant either Draco's soul would be eased before he died, or his flesh would overcome the curse somehow - with Ginny's help.

By pulling a few strings, Poppy had insured that Draco and Ginny would have plenty of time to discover they were destined for each other. Now she just had to take a step back and let the Fates take over.

I see the next Healer in his future. Her hands will placate his pain. Rhianonn's words echoed pleasantly in her mind. At first she had been worried; how on earth was she going to find the next natural healer?

One look at Virginia when she stepped out of the Great Hall this year had wiped away all her fears. She was of age, too. 16? About the time Poppy herself had discovered her potential.

Perfect.

They didn't seem too infatuated quite yet, but that would come with time. She always had enjoyed playing matchmaker. And now lives hung in the balance of this match's success? Rather exciting, actually.

She still couldn't believe they had both bought the 'younger hands' thing. Contradiction of inconsistencies. Poppy chuckled happily. That was a good one, you had to admit.

A/N: Ok, this is crap. I'm sorry. I really don't know what happened… I'll do rewrites soon, I promise. The ideas were good, I swear! lol, it wrote itself very differently in my head. Oh well. This will have to do. Tell me what you think.

~angelic fire~

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