Dark Directed

by Fearthainn

A chance encounter tangles Ginny Weasley's life with that of the most unlikely of people - Draco Malfoy.

5. Part Five

A/N: Thanks go to Emily and Mahoney once again for the beta-work, and to Amy for her suggestions. Also thanks to Ali Farka Toure and Ry Cooder for their sweet and sultry "Ai Du", off the album "Talking Timbuktu", without which a goodly portion of a particular scene—I'll leave y'all to guess which one—wouldn't have gotten written.

Dark Directed: Part Five

~*~

Ginny's trip to King's Cross was unusually quiet. She was the last one now, so only Mum was with her on the trip to the station; Dad had work, and the rest of her brothers were busy with their own lives. It felt so strange to be here without at least Ron to keep her company. She'd never been on the train without him or the twins, and to be honest, she wasn't looking forward to the trip. Mum kept shooting her sad, soft looks on the platform, and Ginny was trying to avoid eye contact so she wouldn't do something embarrassing like burst into tears.

"Ginny!" Zoë had arrived, tanned from her summer and smiling, her parents in tow, and she grabbed Ginny 'round the middle to give her a quick hug.

"You've cut your hair!" Ginny exclaimed. She held Zoë at arm's length and examined the other girl's head. "I love it!"

"Thanks! So do I...Mum doesn't, but she didn't want me to have it short." Zoë shook her head so that her new layers brushed her shoulders. "Colin hasn't seen it yet."

"He'll love it too," Ginny assured her. "He wouldn't dare say anything bad."

"He'd better not. We should go find seats on the train, though. Wouldn't want it to leave without us!"

Ginny gave Mum a hug, and Mum gave her usual last-minute admonishments about writing and not getting into trouble, dabbing at her eyes with a large hanky. Zoë bid her own parents goodbye, and the girls climbed on board the train to greet their classmates. They found Colin and Dennis in a compartment near the rear, and spent the trip to Hogwarts chatting about their summers and playing Exploding Snap, just like always.

By the time the train arrived at Hogwarts Station, Ginny had a terrible case of nerves. In just a few minutes she'd see Draco again, and she was a mess of excitement and dread. She hadn't heard anything from him all summer. What if he'd forgotten about her? What if he'd decided that he didn't want anything to do with her? What if something else had happened—his father had come to get him, or he'd changed his mind about not joining You-Know-Who?

The minute they walked into the Great Hall, she went a bit weak with relief. Draco was sitting beside Snape at the Head Table, pale and regal in deep navy robes. He was scanning the hall casually, a bored expression on his face. Ginny caught his eye and grinned, irrationally proud of him. Draco's mouth twitched and he looked away, but Ginny rather thought he looked pleased.

His presence there was a bit of a sensation—the Gryffindor table was abuzz with it, the younger students trading stories about why Malfoy might have come to Hogwarts, and what he was doing sitting at the Head Table—ranging from the relatively plausible (he'd been kicked out by his father) to the totally unlikely (it wasn't really Draco Malfoy at all, but a doppelganger set there to confuse any real spies He Who Must Not Be Named might have planted at Hogwarts). Ginny listened to all of them with half an ear, and spent most of her dinner smiling a bit foolishly at her plate.

Ginny didn't receive any sort of acknowledgement of her presence from him; he was being cautious, she guessed. She bit back her disappointment—after all, what could he have done? Swept her into his arms in the middle of the Great Hall?—and followed Colin and Zoë meekly up to the Gryffindor common room after supper.

The seventh-year girls retreated to their dormitory, ostensibly to unpack, but in reality it was so that Adrienne and Shelley could dissect all the changes the Gryffindor boys had gone through over the summer and recreate their hierarchy of who-was-cutest. Ginny sat on her bed with Shelley's copy of Witch Weekly on her lap, flipping through the pages as she half-listened to them. It made her smile—the familiar Hogwarts dormitory, with Zoë's calm presence and even Adrienne and Shelley's prattle, was as much home as the Burrow was. It was good to be back.

Ginny looked up from the magazine as an owl sailed in through the open window and settled on Ginny's bed, cocking its head at her in an impatient manner. Adrienne and Shelley stopped talking, and even Zoë was staring; after all, why would she be getting a school owl the day started? Ginny glanced at the other girls and shrugged in answer to their unspoken questions. She was taking too much time for the owl, for it tapped the back of her hand with its beak, ruffling its feathers with what was clearly annoyance. Ginny shook herself and untied the note, trying to ignore the curious looks from the other girls.

Ginny couldn't quite suppress the thrill that went through her at the sight of Draco's heavy scrawl. Like his note to her in the summer, it was short and to the point: Have room in dungeons near S's office. Meet me at 9 at far corridor near Potions. Owl if you can't come.

Ginny traced the words with one finger. He hadn't forgotten, and he wanted to talk to her. He'd come to Hogwarts on her advice, and he was seeking her out. She'd been so worried this summer, that she'd come to school and he'd be cold or distant, but he must have owled her first thing after supper. Gone straight to the Owlery and done it, because he wanted to see her.

He wanted to see her.

"So what does it say?"

Ginny jerked her head up to stare at Adrienne. She realized she must have been mooning like an idiot and tried to school her expression back to normal. "What?"

"Your note. What's it say? You've got a funny look." For what felt like the first time ever, Adrienne was staring at her with undisguised curiosity. "Can we see it?"

Ginny's eyes widened as she tried to think of a way to put the other girl off. "Um, no. It's—it's nothing, just a note from...from Professor Delacour, about my project this semester."

"Oh." Adrienne slumped back a bit on her bed, looking put out. "Thought it might be something interesting."

Ginny tried to laugh lightly. "Sorry to disappoint you. It's just about homework." She waved the paper at Adrienne, folded it quickly, and stuffed it into the pocket of her robes.

Adrienne shrugged, and she and Shelley went back to their conversation. Zoë, though, had lost interest in the other girls; she got up and came to sit beside Ginny. "It's from Professor Delacour?" she asked.

Ginny nodded, not quite able to meet Zoë's eyes. "Yeah. She wants to talk to me about my project tonight. I don't even know what I'm going to tell her...I haven't thought about it."

Zoë was looking at her strangely. "I'd have thought, with NEWTs and everything, that you wouldn't bother with one this year. We're going to be busy enough as it is."

"I know. I think that's what I'll say, actually. Maybe that's what she wants...to tell me not to do one." Ginny shrugged. "I'll see later, I guess."

"I wonder what Professor Delacour thinks about Malfoy being at Hogwarts, speaking of the Dark Arts. His dad's supposed to be all in with the Death Eaters, isn't he?" Zoë said, leaning back against Ginny's headboard. "I can't believe he's here. Wasn't it in the paper that he'd gone missing?"

"It's strange, isn't it?" Ginny replied. Adrienne and Shelley looked up from their own conversation again, listening in. "Who'd think he'd come here?" She hoped she sounded incredulous enough.

But with Adrienne and Shelley, it hardly mattered how she sounded. They both gave up on their own talk and piled onto Ginny's bed. "I think it's grand," Adrienne said. "He's awful handsome, don't you think?"

Ginny choked, but her horrified noise was drowned out by Shelley's hoot of laughter. "I knew you fancied him! I said so last year!"

"You two are awful!" Zoë exclaimed. "Malfoy's a prat! I swear you'd think about shagging You-Know-Who if he were cute enough!"

"I wouldn't!" Adrienne protested in outrage. "That's disgusting. And anyway, I bet he isn't, so it doesn't matter."

Ginny gritted her teeth and counted the minutes until nine as the conversation drifted back into what boys were cuter, and which of them Adrienne or Shelley would consider snogging. Zoë chatted gamely along, deflecting the other girls from asking the same questions of Ginny, setting herself as a buffer between them. Ginny appreciated it more than she could say—she was in no mood to talk about who she'd snog, not when the answer was waiting for her.

At quarter to nine, Ginny excused herself and made her way down to the Potions hallway, grateful to be out of the company of the other girls. She approached Snape's office carefully, glancing around for signs of Filch. She'd made it all the way across the castle without seeing him, and she definitely wasn't going to be caught this close to her destination. The hallway itself was deserted, and Ginny made her way down to the far end slowly—Draco had said he'd be here, but he wasn't anywhere in sight. She hovered nervously, trying not to fidget.

"Ginny."

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. Ginny spun around, one hand pressed to her chest. "Draco." He had appeared out of the second corridor and snuck up behind her; she'd been so nervous she hadn't even noticed.

He looked at her curiously and jerked his head toward the corridor he must have emerged from. "My rooms are down here."

Ginny followed him, looking around with interest. She'd never been this deep in the dungeons before; there appeared to be all sorts of rooms off this hallway, mostly unused by the look of things. Draco stopped in front of a door about halfway down and muttered something. The door swung open, and he motioned her through.

Ginny looked around curiously. The room was small and modestly appointed: a heavy wooden bed in one corner, and two green wingback chairs arranged to form a small sitting area at the other end of the room, in front of the fireplace. There were a few throw rugs scattered on the flagstone floor, and tapestries covering the stone walls for warmth. For a dungeon room it was surprisingly warm, and looked like it would be bright during the day—there were high windows all along one wall in addition to the candle sconces spaced through the room.

Draco moved to stand between the two chairs, watching her with a wary expression. "So," he said, and stopped as if he didn't know what else to say.

Ginny flashed him a small, nervous smile. "Well, I see you made it here all right."

Draco nodded. He seemed as nervous as she was, shifting his weight from foot to foot almost imperceptibly. It was odd—he was normally so composed. He watched as she looked around the room again, but didn't say anything more. Ginny took a few tentative steps forward, glancing over the papers strewn across the heavy desk which sat near the door, and Draco actually retreated a step. This was ridiculous! Ginny stopped and frowned at him, and Draco cleared his throat. "I've been here since the beginning of August," he said by way of an apology. "Being Snape's Potions assistant."

Ginny smiled at that; she couldn't help it. It was exactly what she'd suggested, when he'd come to her in the summer. Draco caught the grin and scowled at her, which made Ginny laugh out loud. She crossed the distance between them to throw her arms around him in an impulsive hug. "I'm glad you did," she murmured into his shoulder.

"I thought you would be," he replied. He had stiffened in alarm when she touched him, but he was relaxing, inch by inch, into the hug.

"How is it going?" she asked, leaning back to look into his face. "Being Snape's assistant, I mean. I know you didn't want to."

Draco shrugged. "It's all right. I haven't done much except help him mix up potions for Madam Pomfrey and prepare lesson plans." He wrinkled his nose. "He's been threatening to hand the firsties over to me, but I think he wants to terrorize them into submission first."

Ginny laughed, remembering her first potions lesson. "That sounds like Snape."

Draco relaxed enough to rest his arms around her waist, one hand slowly stroking her back. Ginny moved forward again, resting her head against his shoulder with a contented smile. "He was...surprised to see me here, he said. "Everyone was."

"What happened?"

Draco shrugged. "Nothing, really. Dumbledore checked me for the Dark Mark, and then they decided what I could do to earn my keep and that was that. I didn't tell them anything about—about you."

"I haven't told anyone either," Ginny said. "I mean, I did have to tell my brothers that there was someone...I just didn't say that the someone was you."

Draco made a muffled noise. "That must have been fun."

"It could have been worse," she said. "Percy could have gone through with his threat to tell Mum. Who wouldn't have rested until she found out exactly who it was I was seeing, and why I hadn't told her, and what was I thinking not telling her something like that, and generally been motherly and annoying."

"How terrible."

Ginny tilted her head back to look at him, and sure enough, he was smirking at her. "You've never seen my mum in one of her fits," she said, but Draco didn't seem to be listening to her. He was looking at her mouth, his eyes dark.

Draco met her eyes for an instant, and bent his head slowly to brush his lips across hers, so gently she might barely have felt it if not for the bolt of sheer electric sensation that shot through her at his touch. Ginny smiled and slid her arms around his shoulders as he kissed her again, more fully this time, a slow, deep exploration of her mouth that left her weak-kneed and breathless. She had missed this so much, the fine silk of his hair, the softness of his skin, the way his body felt against hers...she wondered if that made her a wanton.

She didn't think she cared.

Draco moved backward slowly, pulling her with him, and sat in one of the deep wing chairs. He tugged her onto his lap and she curled up against him, finding his mouth again with her own. The sensible thing would have been to talk, to discuss what was happening, between them and in the world in general, to work out how things were going to go from here. But his hands, splayed across her ribcage and trailing tiny sparks of sensation across her skin through her shirt, and his lips on hers were all she could concentrate on. Much as Ginny knew they should talk, she couldn't think of a single thing to say that was worth stopping for.

They kissed until the candles burned low, sweet, drugging kisses that left Ginny feeling languid and light-headed. Ginny finally made herself lift her mouth from Draco's with an effort. "I should go," she whispered. Draco hummed something incomprehensible and kissed the corner of her mouth. "I really—oh—I really should."

"Not yet," he murmured, nibbling gently at her lower lip.

Ginny moaned softly and let him kiss her again. He was a good kisser—not that Ginny had a wealth of experience in such matters, but she couldn't imagine anyone else making her feel like this. It was so hard to think when they were kissing, hard to remember that it was late and she still had to get all the way back to Gryffindor Tower before midnight. She pulled her mouth away again; it was even more difficult this time. "Draco, I have to go," she repeated. "I can't stay here, people will notice."

Draco made a disappointed noise and buried his face in her neck. "Come tomorrow?"

"I'll try." Ginny turned her head and kissed his hair, then his temple as he raised his head. "If not tomorrow, then the next day. It'll look strange if I'm away too often."

Draco nodded and let her slide off his lap, rising to his feet as Ginny shook out her robes and brushed at her hair. "When you can, then. If I'm not here, the password's 'highland heather'. I think Professor McGonagall set it." He gave a soft half-laugh and brushed her cheek with his hand. "Tomorrow, if you can."

"I promise." Ginny slipped out the door before she could give into the temptation to kiss him again; if she did, she'd never get back to Gryffindor Tower at all.

The dormitory was quiet and dark, and Ginny was glad for it. She knew she looked disheveled, but she couldn't have come up with a single thing to tell Zoë or the other girls if her life depended on it. Except, if they were going to do this, she'd have to have excuses handy; sooner or later they were bound to be found out. Ginny knew she ought to be more worried, knew that Mum and Dad would have fits if they knew she was involved, however seriously, with a Malfoy. And their reactions would be nothing compared to Ron's. But Ginny couldn't let go of Draco, not after everything he'd been through—not for her, but because of her, in some ways. They could make it work, she knew they could. He'd changed so much already, all on his own, and she could make her parents see that, when the time was right.

Ginny climbed into bed and curled herself around her pillow, hugging it tightly to her. Draco did care about her. He couldn't look at her the way he did and not care. They would talk things out between them the next time they met, and everything else would work itself out. The thought made her smile, and she drifted off to sleep without trouble for the first time since she'd started at school.

~*~

With the arrival of the students came Draco's first forays into teaching, which was much harder than Professor Snape made it look. Draco didn't do much for the first few classes except lurk in the back and watch, trying to stay out of Snape's way. One thing he couldn't avoid, though, was the stares of the older students, particularly the Slytherins. All of them knew who he was, and must have known that his father had reported him missing. No matter what that useless pack of Gryffindors might think, Slytherins weren't stupid; every one of them knew that he was here against Father's wishes and without his knowledge. It showed in their sneers and scornful glances, in the way they whispered behind his back whenever he crossed their paths.

Draco ignored the whispers as best he could and Snape kept the Slytherins in line, but it wasn't as though Draco cared what the lot of them thought. It didn't matter anymore, after all. What appearances did he have to keep up? He'd already done the worst thing he possibly could have, in Father's eyes, and the opinions of a pack of little brats who thought they were important were no concern of Draco's. But they were Slytherins.

The news that he was at Hogwarts took less than a week to reach his father.

Draco didn't even get a warning; one moment he was preparing ingredients for Snape, the next his door had been flung open and Father was there, his aquiline face set in an expressionless mask that belied the absolute fury in his eyes.

Dumbledore was right behind Father, his normally kind air nowhere to be seen. "Mr. Malfoy," he was saying, "might I remind you that you are not a governor of this school any longer, and that you do not have the right to charge about making demands of my staff. And I assure you that Draco is indeed a member of my staff."

"And when the Hogwarts mandate includes preventing parents from seeing their children, I do hope you'll inform me," Father said icily. "Until then, I wish to speak to my son. Alone."

"Draco is under Hogwarts protection," Dumbledore replied, equally cool. "He is also eighteen, and an adult. You cannot force him to do anything against his will."

Father stiffened, glaring at the old man. "Are you implying I might harm my own son?"

"I imply nothing, Mr. Malfoy. I am stating a fact." Dumbledore met Draco's eyes significantly. "You cannot force Draco to do anything he doesn't want. I wish to make that clear."

Father looked even more outraged. Draco cleared his throat, and nodded at Dumbledore. "Thank you, Professor. I'll speak to him alone." He had to; Father wouldn't tolerate having Dumbledore around, not in the fine rage he was in. This was going to be hard enough as it was.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, with a searching glance at Draco. He turned, his face growing stern. "Mr. Malfoy, I'll be waiting to escort you out when you've finished."

Father nodded stiffly, and Dumbledore turned to go, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Once the Headmaster had gone, Father made a circuit of the room, eyeing the potions work table with disdain. Finally he spun around, rested both hands on top of his cane and examined Draco coldly. "So," he said. "Here you are."

"Yes, sir," Draco said softly.

"I received a letter—several, in fact. You should be flattered at how many young students here were eager to inform their parents of your presence, so that the knowledge could be passed on to me." Father didn't look flattered; he looked more furious than Draco had ever seen him, his granite eyes boring into Draco's own. "A pity that you couldn't extend me the same courtesy."

"I'm sorry, Father, I—"

"Perhaps," and Father's voice was glacial, "you'd care to tell me what you're doing here?"

Draco didn't speak; he wasn't sure he could, even if Father were willing to listen to any explanation he might attempt. He'd never defied Father before, never borne the brunt of one of his terrifying rages—lectures about duty and poor performance were one thing, but this was entirely another. Draco wanted to be anywhere but here, with a desperation that threatened to choke him.

Father folded raised his eyebrows at Draco. "Can you not even answer a simple question? Or is it merely that you have no explanation for your presence here," and he thumped his cane on the flagstones, "when you should be at Malfoy Manor enjoying the position I have endeavored to secure for you?"

Draco shook his head mutely, and Father leaned back on his heels. "I thought as much. I suppose you'll have ample time to think about it in the carriage back to the Manor—I trust it will be suitable, for when our Lordship invites you to join him again...if he does. Certainly I will be interested to hear what sort of explanation you might have for this sort of...defiance." Father spun on one heel in an impressive swirl of rich wool and strode toward the door, clearly expecting Draco to follow.

"No." Draco's voice was weak, with none of the conviction he might have wished behind it. "I'm not leaving."

Father went rigid. He turned to stare at Draco as he might have looked at a house elf who'd spoken out of turn. "What did you just say?"

"I said no," Draco repeated. "I won't go back." It was easier the second time; Draco lifted his chin and met Father's icy eyes.

"I see," Father said, his voice low and deadly. "You refuse me. Is that what seven years in this place have taught you? Does your family name mean nothing to you?'

"Father, it's not—"

"No." Father sliced at the air with his cane, his face a rigid mask of anger. "I can see now that you are not the boy I thought you were. I have done everything in my power to ensure that you would have everything I might wish for a Malfoy. I have worked for years to create a position for you amongst the social elite, to ensure a place for you in society that befits our lineage, and you stand there and tell me that you do not accept it." Father pulled himself up, the very image of noble hauteur. "This, then, is what all of my work has brought me, my years of effort, trying to do what is right for my only child. A spoiled, useless brat who isn't fit to bear the Malfoy name."

The words were like a physical blow. Draco knew that in some ways he had always been a disappointment to Father, that he wasn't good enough, quick enough, in classes or on the Quidditch pitch, but to hear Father say it hurt more than anything else. "Father, I—"

"Your mother must bear partial blame. She was far too lenient with you, I can see that now. Perhaps if your upbringing were handled differently, if I had not indulged her womanish desire to keep you close at hand and sent you to Durmstrang from the beginning, you would not now be turning your back on your family." Father shook his head in disgust. "But no. Instead I send you here and in payment for my kindness to your mother, you have chosen to reject everything I have done for you."

Draco could feel something breaking inside him, something vital, with every word Father spoke. "Father, please. Let me explain—"

Father shook his head, staring at Draco with a cold, unreadable expression. "Your actions speak for you. You," he said, deadly quiet, "are not my son."

And he spun on his heel and walked out.

~*~

Ginny followed Colin and Zoë down from Gryffindor Tower, watching her two friends as they bent their heads close together, probably whispering endearments as they walked. For once, seeing them sharing things didn't make her feel left out; they really were adorable together, and Ginny was genuinely happy for them. She glanced up at the Head Table as they entered the Great Hall, searching its length for a familiar blond head. They'd only managed to meet twice since the first day of school, and both times, they'd spent more time kissing than talking. She was supposed to meet him tonight, too, since Colin and Zoë had a study date. Ginny could hardly wait.

But Draco wasn't at the Head Table, his normal seat next to Snape empty. He didn't normally miss meals, and she couldn't imagine where else he might be. Ginny fretted about it all through dinner, so distracted that she barely noticed when Zoë and Colin tried to engage her in conversation. They gave up eventually and after dinner, when they went back up to the common room to study, Ginny begged off to make her way to the library. She had some time before she could safely go see Draco, and she needed to pull some books for her Charms essay anyway. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.

She was standing in the stacks next to two fifth-year Slytherin boys, trying to ignore them as she searched for useful texts. She recognized one of them as Eustace Warrington, who was the son of one of Dad's co-workers, and she thought the other played beater for Slytherin, though she couldn't remember his name. They were whispering loudly to each other, clearly not interested in the books they were ostensibly looking at.

"You'll never guess who I saw today," the first boy said. "Lucius Malfoy."

Ginny froze.

Warrington shrugged. "So?"

"So, if he were here, that means that he must have come to talk to Malfoy," the first boy said impatiently. "And if Malfoy didn't leave with him, I bet that means that what my father said was true. Malfoy isn't here spying. He ran away."

Warrington snorted. "Why would he? That doesn't—"

"Because he's a coward, isn't he? Hiding here behind Dumbledore's robes because he's too scared to follow a real wizard." The first boy curled his lip with contempt. "And it doesn't surprise me one bit. I always knew he wasn't all that. Just because his father's rich..."

Ginny must have made some noise, because they both stopped talking and glanced around. The first boy spotted Ginny and his lip curled even more. "What are you looking at?"

"Not much," Ginny snapped, glaring at him.

The boy stiffened and opened his mouth to say something, but Warrington grabbed his arm. "Teacher!" he hissed, and pulled his friend away toward the back of the library.

Ginny glanced around and saw Madam Pince approaching the stacks, arms full of books. She ducked the librarian, hitched her book bag up on her shoulder and started down the main aisle of the library, intent on going to the dungeons to find Draco. No more killing time; Merlin only knew how he must be feeling, if his father had visited him.

Luck was with her, and she didn't meet any students on her trip through the dungeons. At Draco's door Ginny paused to knock, but no answer came from within. She glanced nervously up and down the hall and whispered the password. The door sprang open, and she hurried through, shutting it quietly behind her.

The room was dark, the fire cold, but she knew he was here; he had to be. Where else would he go?

"Draco?" she called cautiously, stepping forward. There was no answer, but two more steps took her close enough to see that he was sprawled in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, his long legs stretched out before him. "Draco?" she said again, but he didn't move.

Ginny walked forward swiftly, coming around the chair to look at him. He was drawn and white, his face half-shadowed by the chair's wing, and he didn't even look at her as she knelt and took his hands gently. "Draco," she said. "What...?"

"He disowned me," Draco whispered, and his voice was so full of shocked disbelief it made her heart ache to hear it. "He said—he said I wasn't his son, that I didn't deserve to be a Malfoy. That I was spoiled and ungrateful and not...not..." He broke off and shut his eyes, his normal arrogance nowhere to be found.

"He's wrong," Ginny said, tightening her hands on his. "You're not spoiled, and you're not undeserving. You're one of the bravest people I know, and I'm so proud of you."

"For what?" Draco spat. His eyes flew open, and his expression hardened. "For being a coward? For running away? Oh, that's brave. I should be proud that I've totally failed, that I couldn't be what he wanted. You're so right."

"You couldn't tie yourself to something you didn't believe in," Ginny replied softly. "And you wouldn't let him make you be something you aren't." She reached up and smoothed his hair away from his forehead gently. "I don't know if I could have done it...gone against my family's wishes like that."

"You wouldn't have to," Draco sneered. He jerked away from her hand. "What could you do that would make your perfect little family cast you out? I thought that forgiving and being nice was just what Gryffindors did."

Ginny knew he was upset, and lashing out at her because she was there. She knew that he didn't really mean it, that he wasn't angry at her, but it didn't help. It was infuriating, that he could actually think such a thing, that he could say something like that to her. "You really think my family wouldn't do the same thing to me? You think I have nothing to lose?"

"You don't, and I already know about your precious family. Didn't you say to me that they'd help me if I needed it?" Draco's lip was curled, the insolent drawl back in his voice. "Your family and mine can hardly be compared."

"How dare you?" Ginny dropped his hands and pushed herself away from his chair, scrambling to her feet. "How pleased do you think my mum would be to find out about us? Or Ron? Or any of my brothers? Do you know what my dad would say to me if he knew I had bonked a Malfoy? Under his roof, no less!" She backed up another step and swallowed hard against the lump of anger and hurt lodged in her throat. "Just because we don't have money doesn't mean that their opinions matter less to me than your father's does to you!"

Draco snorted. "Well, it's not like you'd be losing much."

Ginny went rigid. "What?"

"You heard me. It would hardly be some great loss, not to be a Weasley anymore," Draco drawled. "I suppose they'd be grateful to have one less mouth to feed."

Ginny wasn't going to hit him, she decided, much as he deserved it; she was far too livid to trust herself. "If that's what you really think of me, then I don't even know why I'm here. Why I've bothered, since you're ever so much more important than I am. Well, you don't need to worry that I'll bother you anymore!" She spun around and stalked toward the door, without waiting to see what he'd say. She didn't want to hear it.

"Ginny, wait."

She paused, her hand on the door, and stared at the dark wood for a moment, breathing deeply. He didn't have the right to say those things and expect her to stay. He didn't.

"Please." Draco's voice cracked on the word, and despite herself Ginny turned to look. He was standing between the chairs, his hand gripping the back of one with such force his knuckles were white.

"Don't. Don't go. Please. I...I'm sorry." The words seemed to take all the energy out of him. "I'm sorry."

Ginny shook her head. "You can't just say things like that about my family and expect me to not get angry," she said. "They're my family, and I love them, and they're as much a part of me as your family is of you. I don't say anything about yours, I've never said anything about yours, and your father nearly killed me once. If anyone has the right to be saying awful things, I think it's me."

"I know." He raised his head, and the desolation in his eyes made her gasp. "And I won't. Just...please." His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "Don't go."

Ginny wavered. The cool, sensible part of her, the one that sounded like Mum or Percy, was saying that she should just leave, walk out the door and never come back. She deserved better than to be treated with scorn just because he felt like lashing out, no matter how sorry he sounded now.

But he needed her. How often had anyone needed her, in her entire life? Tom, but Tom had been a memory, using her for his own ends. Draco needed her. Ginny let her hand drop from the door handle and walked back across the room to stand in front of him. She reached out and took his hand in hers, rubbing gently at his knuckles. He inhaled sharply and tugged her closer, pulling her against his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around her, his cheek against her hair.

"I can't—" he said brokenly, "I did everything he wanted, I tried—everything he ever asked, except this. I couldn't do it, not even for him. He always said, over and over, that he believes in purity, and doing things properly, and no one in their right mind could say that thing is doing things properly and I can't—just because I can't—"

Ginny smoothed her hands over his back, wishing she could brush his hurt away that easily. He was right about one thing; she didn't know what this must be like for him. She couldn't imagine her parents disowning her, no matter what she'd done. "But you're doing the right thing," she said. "Draco, you are."

"Am I?" he demanded, pulling back from her.  "You think so, and I know Dumbledore does, but if it's really so right then why—" He shook his head and let go of her, turning to pace in front of the fireplace, scrubbing at his hair. "Why am I believing you, over my own father? He's right, he's always right. Except he's not. And now he hates me, and I can't—" He dropped into one of the chairs and his voice sank to a whisper. "I can't bear it."

"You can, you know," Ginny said, and the calm in her voice surprised even herself. "You'd be surprised at how much we can bear, if we have to."

Draco swiped angrily at his face with one hand. "How would you know?"

Of course, he didn't know, because she never had told him that whole story. "Colin," she said quietly, and he looked up, bewildered. "Hermione, Penny—she's my brother Percy's girlfriend. Justin Finch-Fletchley, I didn't know him, but he was in one of Ron's classes. And Nearly Headless Nick, who would have died if he hadn't already been a ghost. And Mrs. Norris. Ron thought I was upset because I liked cats." Ginny gave a hollow little laugh. "It was only luck, that nobody died. Sheer luck. And if they had died, it would have been my fault. My responsibility. All through that year I thought I couldn't tell anyone what was happening, that if anyone found out it was me letting the Basilisk out, Mum and Dad would be so ashamed, and I wouldn't be able to bear it. But they did find out, and I could bear it."

"But they didn't tell you that you weren't their daughter anymore," Draco said. "You didn't lose your family."

"No," Ginny replied softly. "But I lost my best friend."

Draco didn't seem to know what to say to that. He slumped back into the chair, resting his head against the back tiredly. "Come here," he said finally, holding his hand out to her. Ginny moved forward and slid her fingers into his; he tugged on her hand until she was settled on his lap, her head against his shoulder. She let her eyes fall closed, listening to his soft breath, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath her cheek.

"It'll be all right," she said after a long moment, feeling acutely how useless the words were. "In time. It'll stop feeling so terrible."

Draco nodded, bumping the top of her head with his chin. She pushed away slightly and turned to look up at him. He still had that lost, bleak look in his eyes, tired and angry and sad. Ginny cupped his jaw with one hand, pulling his face toward hers. She kissed him gently, not knowing what else to do; she wished she could give him more than just this.

It seemed to be enough though, at least for now. Ginny stayed as long as she could, until she had to leave or risk getting caught by Filch in the halls.

"Come tomorrow," Draco said as she was leaving, curling his fingers around hers, echoing their first night here.

"I will," she said instantly. Colin and Zoë wouldn't notice if she were away again tomorrow, and if they did, she'd think of a good way to put them off. "I promise."

~*~

They didn't talk about it, and Draco was grateful. The idea of discussing his father and having to think about everything he'd done left him feeling raw and exposed; it made his chest ache, as though he couldn't get enough air. Ginny seemed to understand that and didn't press him, and she still came to see him every time she could get away.

They had to be cautious about meeting, with things as tense as they were—the teachers were told not to alarm the students, but outside of Hogwarts things were verging on dire. The war was being conducted in small raids and skirmishes, isolated attacks of the sort Draco had seen his father planning over the summer.  Draco didn't know how Ginny managed to sneak all the way down to the dungeons from Gryffindor Tower as often as she did.

She was coming tonight, after nearly a week of enforced absence because of the escalated tension outside Hogwarts, and Draco was jittery with suppressed excitement. She said she had a surprise planned, and he was dying to know what it was. He was very bad at surprises—when he was small he used to sneak around the Manor looking for his birthday and Christmas presents, so he'd know what they were beforehand. But Ginny wouldn't say what hers was, and with their separation, he hadn't been able to pester it out of her.

He was nearly beside himself by the time she finally arrived, slipping through the door with a small grin. "Hullo," she said, and kissed his cheek.

"Where is it?" Draco demanded, looking her over. She had a dark cloak over her arm, but she didn't seem to be carrying anything else. Maybe it was small.

Ginny giggled and pulled away from him. "You'll see. Get your cloak."

"My cloak?"

"Your cloak. We're going out," Ginny said. She pushed him in the direction of his wardrobe. "I want to show you something."

"What about my surprise?" Draco asked sulkily. This wasn't at all what he'd had in mind.

"This is your surprise. I can't bring it with me, I have to bring you to it." Ginny was grinning

Draco collected his cloak with bad grace. "You're not allowed in the halls after curfew."

"I know, but that's not a problem." Ginny grinned at him, swung the cloak she'd been carrying over her shoulders, and promptly faded into shadow.

Draco blinked, staring at the spot he knew she was standing. He could see her, but it was as though she was obscured by dark smoke, the outline of her body blurred and distorted. "What in Merlin's name is that?"

Ginny grinned and pushed the hood off her head, which looked very eerie. "It's a Shadow cloak. Sort of like an Invisibility cloak, only it makes you shadowy rather than totally invisible. Makes it harder to spot you when you've got it on. My brother Bill sent it to me," she said. "Was supposed to be a birthday present, but he was late. He always is. But it's brilliant, really, and dead useful, so I can't complain."

"Oh." Shadow cloaks weren't as expensive or as rare as invisibility cloaks—Potter had one of the latter, which had always irritated Draco to no end. He would have killed to have an Invisibility cloak.

Ginny pulled her hood up again, and Draco followed her shadowed form through the castle. It quickly became clear that she was heading for the Astronomy Tower. Why she'd want to haul him all the way up here for an assignation he didn't know, when he had a perfectly good private room, but he was willing to humour her.

When they got to the top of the Tower, Ginny removed her cloak and tilted her head back to gaze at the stars through the narrow opening in the roof. "I love it up here," she whispered, her voice tinted with awe. "I always have. Astronomy's my favourite class."

"Even more than Arithmancy?" Draco asked. He grinned as she lowered her eyes to glare at him.

"Just about anything's better than Arithmancy," Ginny griped. She took his hand, leading him toward the stairs up to the observation deck. "Come here, and I'll show you why this is better."

Draco allowed himself to be led up the narrow stair that wound around the telescope in the central observatory, and out onto the observation deck. "What are we doing here, anyway?" Climbing all the way up the Astronomy Tower to sit in the cold didn't strike him as particularly enjoyable.

"This is your surprise, silly. We're going to look at the stars." Ginny flashed him a mischievous, quicksilver grin and clambered over the wrought-iron fence that divided the observation deck from the rest of the roof.

"To look at the stars?" Draco said incredulously. She'd dragged him out here to go star-gazing?

"Of course. What'd you think we were up here for? Come on." She nimbly made her way up the edge of the roof peak, apparently oblivious to the dizzying drop to either side of her. At the very top was a small, flat space, as though someone had sliced off the very tip of the Tower, leaving barely enough room for three people to sit. Ginny reached it and turned around, sitting down carefully.

Draco thought his heart might stop, watching her. One false move and she'd be a bloody smear on the courtyard cobbles, hundreds of feet below. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "Get down from there!"

Ginny grinned down at him, clearly pleased with herself. "Come on up," she said. "You're not scared, are you?"

Draco scowled, but gingerly hoisted himself over the fence and started to make his way up to where she was perched. Flying on a broomstick was one thing, but traipsing across rooftops in the dead of night was something else entirely. At least on a broom there was something holding you up. "You're out of your mind," he said when he reached the top and was seated firmly beside her. "What'd happen if you fell?"

"Oh, we're far enough off the ground that I'd manage to get my wand out and cast a cushioning charm or something," Ginny said airily. "But it's up here you get the best views. Look!" She gestured around them with one arm, and Draco looked.

The Astronomy Tower was the tallest in the castle, and up here at the very top, it seemed as though they were at the top of the world. The lake and glen spread out below them, the parapets of the castle gleaming in the starlight, the lights of Hogsmeade twinkling off in the distance. It was a clear night and the sky looked like a blanket of black velvet, sprinkled with diamonds.

"Wow," he said quietly. No one could hear them, not up here this late at night, but the immensity of the silence kept him from talking too loud. Ginny slipped her arm around his waist, clearly pleased, and tugged Draco down so that they lay in the small space, and all that was visible was the expanse of night sky.

"I knew you'd like it," she whispered back, resting her head on his shoulder. "Charlie told me about it, from when he was here, and it was the first thing I did in first year, to come find it. I used to come up here to write."

"By yourself?"

"Of course. It's so beautiful, and looking at the stars is one of my favourite things. If you're up here, no one ever spots you, even if they're out on the observation deck." Ginny tilted her head up so that she could kiss his jaw softly. "I just...wanted to show you. I mean, I know it's sort of silly, but we can't go anywhere like a real date, and I thought this would be the next best thing."

"Oh." Draco would never have thought of something like this, something so innocent and casual. Especially not as a date—in his experience, taking a girl out involved dressing up and fancy dresses and a great deal of excess cutlery. Not risking horrible death to sit on a rooftop and look at the sky.

Ginny bit her lip with a small shrug. "I mean, it's a bit of a silly idea, and boring, we don't have to stay if you don't want, we can go back—"

"No. No, it's fine." And it was fine. Different, but if Ginny wanted to do this, he would stay. Draco tightened his arms around her, then shifted so that he could drape his cloak over both of them. He muttered a warming charm and settled her against his chest again, her curls tickling his throat. "There. Now tell me what's so fascinating about Astronomy."

He couldn't see her face, but he could feel her smile, read her pleasure in the way she cuddled against him and began to point up at constellations, telling him their origins, myths he'd never heard of, fanciful stories about gods, goddesses and heroes. When the moon rose, she told him stories about that; myths she'd learned either from children's stories or tales she'd learned in Muggle Studies.

"I always wanted to go there," Draco said, after Ginny fell silent. "I thought it would be wonderful. The whole thing, all to yourself. No one around to bother you, make you do anything you didn't want to...it'd be brilliant." He chuckled. "And it's so silvery and cool looking."

"Muggles have been there," Ginny said. "Professor Sapien says that they built a ship to take them there, nearly 30 years ago now. You couldn't live there...there's no air. They had to bring it with them."

"Really?" Draco tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, hiding it under irritability. "How'd they manage to get there in a boat?"

Ginny giggled, muffling her face in his robes. "Not a boat...a space ship. Like an aeroplane, only built to be able to go into space. The Americans built it, so I suppose you might not have heard, but they went to the moon and came back."

"Oh." Draco couldn't have said why, but the thought that Muggles had managed to get to the moon and wizards never had saddened him.

"Someday the Muggles will reach the stars," Ginny went on wistfully. "And see what's beyond our own sun. Professor Sapien says the Muggles have built a space station, a special floating house that stays in the sky above the earth, and they can live up there all the time. Can you imagine?" She sounded dreamy and very far away.

Draco tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "We'll do it too. We'll go wherever you want. If Muggles can, so can we."

Ginny raised herself up on her arms so that she could look at him, her face serious. "Do you really mean that?"

Draco nodded, and was rewarded with the brilliant smile he loved, that lit up her features and made her eyes shine with happiness. "Thank you," she whispered, and leaned down to kiss him, then snuggled into his chest again. "Did I tell you the story about Orion? That's the constellation rising just over the trees."

"No, I don't think so," Draco said. He settled her more comfortably against him and hugged her closer. "Tell me."

They lay on the roof until the warming spell had leached completely out of Draco's cloak and Ginny started to shiver slightly from the chill. Even then, Draco was reluctant to suggest they go; he wanted to stay here for as long as they could, to preserve this moment forever.

But it couldn't last forever, and before long they had to pick their way down off the roof and back to the real world. Draco walked with Ginny almost to the entrance of Gryffindor Tower, and kissed her once more before letting her go. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked quietly.

"I think so," Ginny said. "I'll try. If not tomorrow, then the night after. Zoë and Colin will notice if I'm gone too many nights in a row, especially with everything so on edge."

Draco nodded. He knew they had to be careful, but it was agony to be without her, even for a day. Ginny squeezed his hands and kissed him quickly, managing a tremulous smile before she pulled away and ran up the stairs toward her common room. Draco watched her go with an odd, half-painful ache in his chest—tonight had been perfect, and it was with great reluctance that he made his way back to his lonely dungeon room.

~*~

Ginny moaned low in her throat and curled one hand in Draco's hair, arching against him as his mouth traveled down her neck. They were sprawled across his bed in a tangle of limbs and cloth, Ginny's books pushed carelessly onto the floor. She had been studying earlier, but she hadn't been able to concentrate on school work for very long. Not with Draco lying beside her on his bed, pretending to read while he trailed his fingers through her hair. That had quickly turned to gentle caresses and then to kissing; it almost always did, and that was one good reason why she didn't come here if she had real work to do.

Not that she minded being distracted this way.

Draco raised himself up on his arms, hovering over her and looking down at her face with eyes dark with desire. Ginny shivered despite herself, her own eyes drifting half-shut under the weight of his gaze. He lowered his head to kiss her, deep and slow, bracing his body so that they didn't quite touch. Ginny bunched her hands in his shirt and tried to pull him down onto her, wanting him closer still, but he resisted her, finally pulling away completely to flop onto his back beside her.

"We should stop," he muttered, his eyes dropping shut.

It was all Ginny could do not to scream with frustration.

They had developed a pattern; they would kiss, and occasionally move further, but once they reached a certain point Draco would pull back, unwilling to go further. Ginny wasn't sure if he was acting out of some sort of misplaced desire to be chivalrous or if he genuinely didn't want to do anything more serious than snogging. Either way, it was driving her half-mad. She wanted more than just kisses—they had done more than just kiss, and she didn't believe Draco had forgotten that already. She certainly hadn't; she'd been taking an anti-pregnancy potion since September, just in case.

She lay still for a moment, then reached across the short space that separated them and twined her fingers with his. "We don't have to, you know," she said softly.

"Don't have to what?"

"Stop." Ginny rolled on to her side so she could look at him. "We could..." She let the sentence trail off, knowing she was blushing but unable to help it. "I mean, there's nothing stopping us from...carrying on."

Draco turned his head toward her, his own face flushed. "You want to?"

Ginny barely resisted rolling her eyes. "Yes. I mean, we have, and I do, and if you do, there's no reason not to." She couldn't quite bring herself to say the actual words, but she was sure he knew what she meant. She was tired of all this waiting.

"I don't want to push you," Draco said, so softly she almost couldn't hear him.

"You're not," Ginny muttered. "In fact, that's the problem." She sat up and moved toward him, swinging one leg over his torso and straddling him before he could move away.

He made a small, desperate sound that came close to being a whimper as she settled against his body, his hands coming up to grip her thighs. "Ginny."

"Shhhh," she whispered, and leaned back into his hips. His breath caught, and Ginny couldn't suppress a small smile; it was obvious now that his reluctance to move further wasn't for lack of wanting her. She undid the cuffs of her shirt, then started to unfasten the buttons running down the front. Draco watched her, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes riveted to her hands. When all the buttons were free, Ginny slid the shirt off her shoulders and tossed it to one side, then reached back to unfasten her bra, never taking her eyes from his face. "Draco," she said, when that had been discarded too, and waited while he dragged his eyes back up to hers. "I want this. I want you."

Draco swallowed hard and nodded, his hands flexing on her legs. Ginny dropped forward until she lay atop him full length, the fabric of his under-robe rough against her skin. His hands came up to caress her back, skating across her back as though he wasn't sure where to touch her first. Ginny smiled against his mouth and kissed him as deeply as she knew how.

It had precisely the effect she wanted. Draco groaned into her mouth and rolled over so that she was beneath him. Ginny took the opportunity to unfasten his under-robe and slide her hands across his bare skin, something she had been longing to do since the summer. He felt exactly as she remembered; softness laid over whipcord muscle and bone. She hummed happily as he sank to the bed, his chest pressing against hers, skin against skin. This was exactly what she wanted.

It was far less awkward, this time. Draco touched her as though she was made of glass, gently seeking out every place that made her gasp or moan, that made her arch against him in pleasure, until she thought she might go mad with wanting him. "Please," she whispered, pulling at his arms. "Draco..."

He raised himself up on his arms, mouth curling in a satisfied smile as he slid into her. Ginny gasped and arched again, lifting her hips and wrapping one arm around his waist to pull him closer still. And then he leaned down to kiss her, and there was no pain or awkwardness at all, only him, and her own joy.

~*~

Draco spent the next day or so in an absentminded haze and earned more than one berating lecture from Snape for his inattention. But he could hardly be blamed—all he could think about was Ginny. It was a small mercy that he didn't have to spend time in class with the seventh years, for he'd never have managed at all, with her in the same room.

It was distracting enough having her here, in his rooms, Draco thought. Ginny was nestled against his chest, her legs intertwined with his, her breath sending distracting little shivers through him as it skated across his collarbone. Draco curled a lock of scarlet hair around his fingers and smiled to himself. It was hard to believe it had only been a few days since they had decided to do this—or rather, Ginny had decided for them. He supposed he had her to thank for it, for being so...unafraid. She was brilliant, really; she had made up her mind that they should go further and then simply taken them there, a step Draco had been worrying over for weeks. A small part of him was a tiny bit resentful that she had taken the decision out of his hands, but mostly he was overwhelmingly relieved that he hadn't had to come out and ask.

Ginny kissed him on the cheek, blithely unaware of his train of thought, and got out of bed to disappear into the bath. Which was another amazing thing about her; she seemed to have no self-consciousness whatsoever, now that they'd begun having sex on a regular basis. Draco grinned to himself. She was so utterly unlike any other girl he'd ever met. He couldn't imagine someone like Pansy daring to walk about in the nude, even the short distance from his bed to the toilet.

"I've got to leave," Ginny said when she came out. She began picking up her clothes and dressing while Draco watched with a small twinge of disappointment. "I've got about 10 minutes to make it back to Gryffindor before I break curfew and get detention."

Draco swung his legs over the edge of the bed and fished for his own robes, standing to pull them on. "I know. I should check on my valerian, anyway. I think it might have steeped too long." He glanced over at his work cauldron, which was simmering merrily. He hoped it hadn't; Snape would skin him alive if he ruined it.

"All right, then. I'll try to come tomorrow. Or the weekend, at the very least," Ginny said. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, but Dumbledore and McGonagall hadn't decided whether to let the students go. If they did go, Ginny would probably stay behind—to revise, or so she'd tell her friends, though Draco didn't plan to let her do much actual studying. "We've got a quiz in Arithmancy coming up, and I'll have to go over my notes, so I don't know for sure."

"Perhaps you'd better do that instead of visiting me, then," he said, and smirked at her. "Since you need all the help you can get..."

"Oh!" Ginny poked him in the ribs. "Just for that I ought to not come."

"No. Come, and I'll help you if you like," Draco said. Even helping her revise—though technically against the rules—was better than having her not come at all. He missed her terribly when she wasn't with him.

Ginny smiled at that. "All right, then. But you have to promise that we'll study, and not get distracted."

"It's not my fault you're distracting," Draco protested.

Ginny just laughed and grabbed his robe to haul him close for a kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow," she murmured, and slipped out with a jaunty flip of her hand.

Draco stared at the door for a moment, smiling foolishly, then turned his attention back to the cauldron full of distilled valerian root and carefully reduced the heat. It had simmered a bit too long, but it wasn't ruined—he was safe from Snape's wrath in that regard.

He muttered a cooling charm over the cauldron so he could store the tincture, and was about to pull bottles down from his shelves when a knock sounded at his door. "Come in," he called, straightening up.

Snape entered and shut the door quietly behind him. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise—Snape didn't normally come by his rooms this late. He moved around the workbench as the Potions master faced him, arms crossed over his black-draped chest, one dark eyebrow raised. "Ginny Weasley?" he asked quietly.

Draco felt his blood turn to ice. "Weasley?" he asked, keeping his voice level. "What about her?"

"Don't be coy, Mr. Malfoy. I just saw her leave here." Snape's cold, black eyes flickered over the rumpled bed and back to Draco's face. "Unless you want to try and convince me Miss Weasley has some sort of double."

Draco considered strategies, and decided to brazen it out. "She was looking for help on a Potions assignment."

"Really?" Snape said. "And that would explain, of course, why she left here without her potions kit, or indeed anything resembling a schoolbook." He drifted over to Draco's bed and reached out to twitch the coverlet. "If you'll forgive my saying so, it doesn't appear that you were mixing potions here."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Snape spun to face him, one hand raised to forestall comment. His lip was curled in a familiar sneer. "I could give you the standard lecture about fraternizing with students, Mr. Malfoy, which is expected of me seeing as you are my assistant and therefore my responsibility. In fact I expected to need to give you that lecture some time this term. However, I didn't expect to need to do so quite so soon. Nor did I expect to need to do so because you were fraternizing with a Weasley. How long," he continued, overriding Draco's outraged objection, "has this been going on? Since I find it difficult to believe that you've managed to overcome even Miss Weasley's scant good sense in the two months since the beginning of term."

Draco glared at his erstwhile teacher, jaw clenched. "It's none of your business," he said tightly. He wasn't going to tell Snape a thing if he could help it, not just for his own sake, but Ginny's as well. God only knew what Snape would do to her; he liked the Weasleys as little as Draco once had.

Snape met his glare impassively. "Dumbledore will have to be informed."

"No!" Draco said emphatically, trembling with rage. "Absolutely not!"

"You don't have any choice in the matter, Mr. Malfoy," Snape sneered. "If you were still my student discipline in this matter would fall to me, but as you've outgrown that role, the matter will have to be taken to Dumbledore. You have a responsibility here, a concept you seem to be unclear on."

"It's none of his business," Draco said. "And it's none of yours, either!"

"You are sleeping with a student!" Snape roared. "The minute you decided to compromise your position here in such a ridiculous fashion, it became my business! Dumbledore allowed you to stay here, offered you his protection, and the very first thing you do is to flout his rules and throw his decision back in his face!"

"That's not what's happened!" Draco shouted back. "It isn't something that I just decided on some whim! Ginny—" he snapped his mouth shut suddenly. He had no idea where to begin to explain it to Snape. He glared at the older man as defiantly as he could, crossing his own arms over his chest and raising his chin.

"This is not over, Mr. Malfoy," Snape growled. "You can be sure that I will speak to Dumbledore about this immediately." He spun in a whirl of black robes and left, closing Draco's door with a quiet snick that was more damning than any show of temper. Draco sank into his chair slowly, heart pounding. God only knew what Dumbledore would do.

*

True to his word, Snape descended on Draco at breakfast the next morning and bodily dragged him up to Dumbledore's office despite Draco's muttered protests. He snarled the password at the gargoyle and stalked up the stairs, his hand clenched like a vice around Draco's arm.

Dumbledore looked up in surprise when they entered, Snape pushing Draco before him like a recalcitrant child. "Severus?" the Headmaster said. "Is there a problem?"

Snape pushed Draco unceremoniously into a chair and whirled to face Dumbledore. "A problem. You might say that, Albus. I discovered last night that this ingrate," and he shot Draco a look full of venomous scorn, "has chosen to forget the kindness you have shown him by allowing him to stay here and is repaying your benevolence by sleeping with a student."

Snape looked far too pleased with himself; Draco knew he liked to torment students, but he'd never seen Snape so maliciously vindictive. Certainly not toward Draco. Snape caught his glance and smiled nastily, leaning back against one of the bookcases, arms crossed over his black-clad chest.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and examined Draco over the tops of his spectacles, his wrinkled hands folded on top of his desk. "Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco stared back and didn't say anything, mentally refusing to give an inch. He wasn't going to tell Dumbledore a damn thing he didn't have to.

Snape made an impatient noise. "Of course it's true. He as much as admitted it to me."

"And the name of the student?"

Snape's smile got even nastier. "Ginny Weasley."

Dumbledore blinked in surprise. "Indeed?" He frowned thoughtfully, his steady gaze on Draco. "And how long has this been going on, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco set his jaw and looked away. He wasn't going to answer, wasn't going to tell them anything. Ginny was the only one who deserved his loyalty; he wasn't going to give her up to them willingly. Snape made an impatient sound, and he saw Dumbledore motion the Potions master to silence out of the corner of his eye. It was absolutely silent in the office for a long moment, and then Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"I see," Dumbledore said sternly. "If you don't wish to speak of the matter, we will have to approach this in a different way. I'd like you both to remain here, please, while I go and fetch Miss Weasley."