A/N: The numerological significances of the numbers were garnered from this site: . The Arithmancy questions I made up myself, as well as Draco's ad-hoc explanation.

Thank you (again) to Emily, Mahoney and Banfennid for their beta work on this chapter. Best betas ever!

Dark Directed, Part Six

~*~

Ginny was walking toward Transfiguration with Zoë, Colin and Sanjeet, chatting with them about their upcoming essay for Professor McGonagall, when Dumbledore appeared behind them and cleared his throat. They all turned, straightening nervously at the sight of the Headmaster smiling down on them.

"I'm terribly sorry to have startled you all," he said kindly. "But I need to have a word with Miss Weasley in my office." He nodded to the others. "If you could inform Professor McGonagall that Miss Weasley will be with me all class?"

Zoë, Colin and San all nodded, casting worried glances at Ginny. She shrugged and shook her head—she had no idea what Dumbledore wanted. He waited for her to resettle her bag, smiling that calm, gentle smile all the while. Ginny nodded nervously, unable to summon up a smile in response, and followed Dumbledore to the entrance to his office. He murmured "Pepper Imps," to the gargoyle and motioned her to precede him up the spiral stair. Ginny went, pushed open the door at the top, and stopped short.

Draco was sitting sullenly in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk and Snape was lounging against a bookshelf like a dark, avenging angel. A wave of sheer terror swept through her; she reached out to the doorframe to steady herself as her knees went weak. They were caught, of course they were going to get caught, and now she'd be expelled, and Mum would never forgive her, and oh Merlin, she'd never be able to look Dad in the eye again...

Dumbledore rested a hand on her shoulder, bringing her out of her terrified freeze, and guided her up the stairs to his desk and into the chair beside Draco's. Ginny cast a despairing look at him, but Draco was staring at the tops of his shoes, scowling. He wouldn't have volunteered information on their relationship—at least, she didn't think he would.

Dumbledore settled himself behind his desk and cleared his throat. "First of all I must say, Miss Weasley, that you're not in any trouble." Snape made an abortive gesture, and Dumbledore looked sternly at the Potions master over the tops of his eyeglasses. "I do confess to a certain curiosity, however," Dumbledore went on quietly. "I am usually aware of what is happening in my school. In fact, I pride myself on it. And yet there seems to be something here that I quite missed. Now my dear," he said kindly to Ginny, "you needn't look so frightened. I'm not going to punish you. I am only curious. How did your relationship with Mr. Malfoy start?"

Ginny shifted nervously and swallowed, trying to moisten her dry throat. "I—I—that is, we—" She stopped and took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts into coherency. "There was a boggart," she said finally, "in fifth year." Just saying those words made it easier to go on, to tell about Tom, and Draco finding her, and their conversations and all the rest. Well, most of the rest, anyway—she didn't think they really needed to hear about everything she and Draco had done. Dumbledore's expression didn't change as she related the tale, although Snape shifted restlessly in his corner and seemed skeptical.

When she came to the end, Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him on the desk and nodded solemnly. To Ginny's surprise he didn't speak to her, but to Draco. "Is this account accurate, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco shifted in his chair and nodded without looking up. Dumbledore nodded himself, looking very grave. "Mr. Malfoy, do you care for Miss Weasley?"

Draco glanced up to meet Dumbledore's steely blue stare, and flushed red. Ginny held her breath, not sure what he would answer. Did he care for her? She didn't know. Maybe he didn't know. She bit her lip and tried not to think about how much depended on how he answered.

But Draco didn't answer at all. He dropped his eyes and stared determinedly at the edge of Dumbledore's desk, chewing at his lip.

"Ah, well, perhaps it's an unfair question," Dumbledore said after a moment, his voice surprisingly gentle. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "I feel it necessary to point out that fraternization between staff and students is frowned upon. I'm sure you both understand why." Dumbledore paused and studied Draco and Ginny in turn. "If such a thing were happening, I would be forced to punish the offenders in question." He paused again and his eyes began to twinkle. "If I knew about it."

Snape made a choked noise, and Draco jerked his head up, plainly shocked. Ginny widened her eyes as understanding dawned. "Yes, sir," she whispered, and Dumbledore beamed.

"Excellent! You may consider yourselves warned, and I'm sure that I won't see either of you in my office again regarding this matter." Dumbledore rose from his desk and motioned them out of their chairs. "Thank you both for coming. I'm terribly sorry to have pulled you away from your classes, Miss Weasley. I'll speak to Professor McGonagall about having you make up the extra work."

Ginny nodded and practically bolted to the door, glad to escape down the spiral stair and away from Snape's glowering countenance, with Draco not far behind her. Snape didn't follow; obviously he had something more to say to Dumbledore. Indeed, if Dumbledore's office weren't soundproof from outside the gargoyle Snape might be saying his piece for the whole school to hear.

Draco slumped against the wall in the empty corridor when they got to the bottom, his long legs braced against the stone floor. Ginny leaned against the wall opposite, watching him. She still wasn't sure what to think—he'd never answered Dumbledore's question about caring for her. Part of her desperately wanted to believe that he did, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to know if he didn't. But if he wouldn't answer Dumbledore, Ginny didn't think he'd answer her.

Draco scuffed one foot against the stone floor. "I can't believe he didn't punish us."

"I imagine he thinks we're good for each other," Ginny said, and laughed giddily in relief. "Fostering inter-house co-operation."

Draco snorted. "Is that what they're calling it?"

"I suppose it's more tactful than some other things they could say."

Draco looked at her, his face serious. "He's right, though. No one can find out." His mouth twisted, and he laughed shortly. "Well, no one else, anyway."

"How did Dumbledore find out?" Ginny asked. "I mean, I know he's supposed to be good at knowing what's happening in the school, but how did he know about us?"

"Snape," Draco muttered. "He saw you leaving my rooms yesterday."

"Oh." Ginny blushed in spite of herself. She wondered what else Snape had seen, if he'd been watching them. "I guess that'd explain why he looked so angry. One more reason to dread Potions, I guess."

Draco half-laughed. "At least I'll be spared having to mark your class's assignments. It would compromise my educational integrity."

"I guess it would." Ginny giggled in spite of herself, giddy with relief. "Was it awful?"

"Awful enough." Draco lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. "Could have been worse."

Ginny nodded. It definitely could have been. If Snape had caught them together, or if anyone else had...she wasn't so foolish or besotted that she was blind to the consequences of what they were doing. "We'll have to be more careful."

Draco nodded, his face serious, and pushed himself away from the wall. With a glance in each direction he crossed the hall, closing the distance between them in a few long strides, and caught her wrist in one hand—if this were his idea of careful, it was a miracle they'd never been caught before. He pulled her toward him and just looked at her for a moment, his other hand coming up to cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. Ginny caught her breath; she might be afraid to ask him outright, but when he looked at her that way, his eyes wide and blue-grey in the faint light, it was hard to believe he didn't care about her. He lowered his head and kissed her gently, as though he were afraid she'd break. Ginny let her eyes drift closed and lost herself in the feel of his hand against her cheek, his lips on hers.

She kept them shut for a second after Draco lifted his head, wanting to hold on to the feeling just a little longer. He was still watching her when she opened her eyes again, his hand moving to tangle in her hair. "Tomorrow?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Draco replied, equally soft. "You should go. You have to get back to class."

Ginny nodded and stepped away from him. It was harder than it should have been, to pull away and smooth her robes, to shoulder her bag, turn around and walk away from him. She could feel him watching her the whole time, until she rounded the corner at the end of the hall and was out of his sight.

~*~

And they were careful, to the point of utter ridiculousness, as far as Draco was concerned. She came to see him two or three times a week at most, and sometimes not even that. Snape had said nothing more on the subject, but he seemed to take their relationship as a personal insult and had begun giving Draco the worst and most unpleasant jobs he could devise. Draco was beginning to feel like a Gryffindor.

"I wonder if he's going out of his way to keep me unfit for company," Draco grumbled one day. He was at the sink in his bath, scrubbing at his hands with a brush, trying to get newt slime out from under his fingernails. It was awful, really; he'd spent the weeks leading up to Christmas elbow deep in toad guts and bubotuber pus, and his hands were drying right out. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"It's not that bad," Ginny called. She'd spread out on her stomach on his bed with books and papers all around, studying for Arithmancy. Her hair was pulled back in a careless bun and she was kicking her feet in the air behind her. "You're hardly falling apart."

"I am! Look at my hands!" Draco came out of the bath to show them to her, waving his reddened fingers under her nose. "See?"

Ginny barely glanced at him as she pushed his hands aside. "You're just scrubbing them too much. There's nothing wrong a little hand lotion wouldn't fix. I'd lend you mine but it smells of lilacs, and you're quite girly enough already."

"I'm not girly!" Draco sputtered.

Ginny looked up and smirked. "You are the girliest boy I know. Who cares if your hands get a little dirty?"

"I care if they get dirty," Draco muttered, climbing onto the bed to lean against the headboard beside her. "It's shocking, is what it is. I've got hands like a house elf and you can't even be bothered to look." He held up his abused hands and examined his fingernails carefully. He'd managed to get all the newt off them, but he was sure his cuticles were drying up. "I'm practically disintegrating before your eyes."

Ginny rested her chin in one hand and smiled at him. "Yes, you are. A shadow of your former self. It's amazing I bother staying 'round, isn't it? With you all dry-skinned and lank-haired and old before your time."

"Now you're just making fun of me."

"Would I do that?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

"You absolutely would." Draco poked her in the leg with his foot. "You might look all innocent and sweet, but I know better."

Ginny laughed again and went back to her homework. "Well, if you didn't wash them every two minutes, they wouldn't get so dry," she said. "What's the numerological significance of a five in the arithmancical formula for a cheering spell?"

"Five expands the mind and creates a sense of freedom and adventure," Draco replied. "It...um. I can't remember the rest." He leaned over to look at her problem, letting his chin rest on the curve of her shoulder. "Oh yeah. In combination with the three and the one, it loosens the inhibitions and causes you to initiate an expression of joy and happiness. Which would be grinning like a loon, like you do when someone hits you with one."

"Hmmm." Ginny wrote furiously, biting her lower lip. Draco didn't move, watching her profile as she worked. She had a delicate spray of freckles on the upper rim of her ear—he hadn't even known it was possible to sunburn one's ears. Didn't she wear hats?

"Have you really sunburnt your ears before?"

"What?" She didn't even glance up.

"You have freckles on your ears," he said, and traced the curve of it with the tip of one finger. "How do you manage to sunburn your ears?"

"Because I burn easily. Spend enough time out of doors, and I'd bet you sunburn yours." Ginny batted at his hand self-consciously. "There's always at least one day I forget to put on a sun-blocking charm."

"Wear a hat."

"I hate hats. They pinch into my temples and give me a headache. Plus I get terrible hat-head. How would substituting a nine for a five in the above equation change the outcome of the spell?" Ginny nibbled on the end of her quill.

"I don't know," Draco replied lazily, trailing a fingertip down the side of her neck. "Do you really have to do that now?"

"Yes, I really do. I leave on hols in three days, and it's due before I go."

Draco's contentment vanished at the mention of Christmas holidays. He'd almost forgotten she was leaving; that the world didn't really disappear when they were together, however much he might like it to. He watched resentfully as she jotted a series of numbers onto her parchment. "Can't it wait?"

"No, it can't."

Draco watched her silently as she frowned down at her parchment. Surely schoolwork wasn't so important that she had to ignore him. But she was going to do exactly that if he didn't distract her. He raised his hand and traced the rim of her ear again, then moved to the soft skin just behind her earlobe. Ginny's eyes drifted shut for a moment, but she didn't stop with her homework. He leaned forward to breathe gently against her throat, "Are you sure?"

"Draco, I have to get this done..."

Her voice trailed off as he nibbled at her earlobe, changing into a soft purr. Draco smiled in satisfaction and slid a bit closer, tilting her head so he could kiss her properly. Ginny let him, and he took the opportunity to push her back onto the bed, heedless of the books around them. She'd been studying for ages, the scent of parchment permeating everything about her. "I'll help you with it later," he murmured against her lips.

Ginny sighed and tilted her head back, and he took the opportunity to nip at the delicate skin underneath her chin. She gasped and wrapped one arm around him. "You're going to get ink all over your bedspread," she protested huskily.

"The house elves can clean it." Draco kissed the smooth curve of her throat and rested his lips in the hollow between her collarbones. She smelled of ink and paper there too, and her shoulders trembled slightly as he followed the graceful bow of one collarbone to where it disappeared under the white fabric of her shirt. Draco shifted back and pushed himself up on his elbows to undo the next button, pushing it aside so he could continue on his path of exploration.

Ginny half-laughed. "You're persistent, anyway."

Draco smirked, knowing he'd won. "Don't forget devious."

"That too." She reached out and dropped her quill over the edge of the bed, then pushed him away so she could gather up her parchment and Arithmancy texts, shoving them off the bed too. "There. Now I won't have to explain to Professor Vector how my homework got so flattened."

"Because it's not going to be flattened by dropping it on the floor."

"Well, I can explain that. Bit harder to explain the other. 'Sorry, Professor, but I had sex on my homework, it's a bit of a mess.'" Ginny giggled, and he grinned back at her. Her laughter was infectious; it lit up her face and made the small lines of worry hovering around her eyes vanish.

And then the laughter faded as Draco settled himself against her legs and unbuttoned the rest of her shirt. Ginny watched, her eyes dark and serious, as he pushed it down off her shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her neck and the silky slope of her shoulder. Her hands came up to clutch at his arms as he slid the straps of her bra down, unfastening it so that he could push it away, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her breasts.

She moaned low in her throat as he lowered his head to kiss her there, and he savoured every arch of her slender body, every small, helpless noise of pleasure that fell from her lips as his mouth traveled over her skin, drunk on the knowledge that he did this to her and no one else. Her breathing had gone ragged by the time he acceded to her half-whispered demands and raised himself up to lie full length against her, to guide her legs apart and slide into her, balanced on the edge of terror and exhilaration.

Ginny's hand tightened on his neck, and she arched again, matching him as he thrust into her. Draco let his head drop, resting his forehead against hers as he moved. He wanted her so much, more than he had ever wanted anyone or anything; that he had her, that she wanted him too, still left him feeling vulnerable and terribly exposed. He let his eyes shut against the intensity of his emotions and lost himself completely in her arms.

Afterward, Ginny lay half-atop his chest, using the tip of one copper curl to paint invisible patterns on his chest. "Do you want to go with me?" she asked quietly.

"Go with you where?"

"Home with me. For Christmas." Ginny widened her eyes earnestly. "I mean, we've got a spare bed, and Mum always makes too much food, and it might not be posh but it's usually pretty fun. There's always lots of people around, and things to do."

Draco lifted one eyebrow in amusement. "And I'll get my exercise, dodging your twelve brothers." Ginny burst into giggles and ducked her head into his chest to muffle them, her laugh vibrating against his ribs. Draco tightened his arms around her, his fingers twining into her hair, delighting in the sensation. "They could try to kill me, I could outrun them—it would be grand."

Ginny raised her head, laughter sparkling in her eyes. "There's only six of them, and anyway, I'd protect you. I'm tougher than I look, and they're not allowed to hurt me on account of my being the only girl. Mum gets angry." The laughter faded as he didn't respond, and her face grew serious. "I mean—if you want to."

"I can't leave the castle," he said. He turned his face away, unable to look at her, unable to bear seeing her face soften into sympathy, those dark eyes warming with pity for him, stuck here all alone at Christmas-time. He didn't have a family anymore—his father and mother would set up the huge Christmas tree in the study without him, would carry on with their parties and social gatherings as though he'd never even existed. Draco didn't even enjoy Christmas, and he hated his parents' parties, but that didn't stop the bitterness that welled up in him at the thought. It was one of the things they'd never talked about, mostly because Draco didn't want to. It was hard enough being at Hogwarts and having all of Slytherin know he was a traitor. He didn't want to have to say it to her, to have her know how much he hated it.

Ginny's hand stilled on his chest, and she lowered her head to rest against his breastbone, sensing, perhaps, that he didn't want to have to face her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I wish you could. I wish..." Her voice trailed off, but Draco knew. She wished things were different, and so did he.

~*~

The three days before Christmas passed all too swiftly, and on the day they were to leave, Ginny followed Zoë and the other girls down from Gryffindor tower. She was dragging her feet deliberately, and when the girls had gotten far enough ahead Ginny slipped away, checking over her shoulder almost constantly as she made her way down toward the dungeons. One or two Slytherins gave her evil looks as she passed by on her way to Draco's hallway, but no one stopped her. She wouldn't let anyone stop her; she wasn't leaving without saying goodbye.

He was waiting for her just inside his rooms, tall and solemn in his dark work robes, as though he'd known she'd be there. Ginny dropped her bag and stepped into his arms with an unhappy sigh. "I'm going to miss you."

"It's only two weeks," Draco said.

"I know, but that doesn't make me feel better."

"I know."

Ginny sighed and leaned away slightly so she could look up at him. "Come with me?" she asked wistfully.

"I can't. You know I can't."

"I know," she murmured. "But I hate it."

Draco's eyes, silver gray deepened to charcoal, were stark against his pale face. "If we could—"

"I know," Ginny repeated. She reached up and laid one gloved finger on his mouth; he went still, and his eyes darkened further. Knowing that he would be unhappy too, trapped here at Hogwarts and unable to leave, didn't make her feel any easier. "I'll think of you."

"Ginny—" His hands reached up to cup her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. Ginny closed her eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers, savouring the kiss. Two weeks...two weeks without him, without his dark humour and sarcasm, no evenings spent curled up in his bed or in front of the fire in his small room, no letting him look over her homework and listening to his snippy comments. It made her chest ache with missing him already. Draco let her go and stepped back, pulling himself up, his customary arrogance settling around him. He looked so regal, his face a smooth mask as he looked down at her. "You're going to miss the train if you don't hurry."

Ginny nodded tightly and turned away, scooping her bag up. She looked back as she reached the end of the corridor to see him standing motionless at his door, watching her go. She raised one hand in a brief wave, and he lifted his own hand, though his expression never changed. She didn't even know if he would miss her in return.

She reached the Great Hall just in time to catch up with Zoë, who was on her way out to the carriages. "Sorry I'm late," she said breathlessly. "Forgot something in the dorm."

"It's all right," Zoë said. "Adrienne and Shelley went ahead to save us a carriage, and there'll be lots of seats on the train. A lot of people are staying here for the holiday."

Colin came up to them, slinging a casual arm around Zoë's shoulders. "I almost wish I were going," he said. "I'm going to miss having Christmas at home, but with everything..." he shrugged and his mouth twisted in a wry smile. Most of the Muggle students were staying at Hogwarts, mostly to protect their families or themselves. There'd been one or two attacks on the families of Muggle-borns, but no one was sure how the Death Eaters were tracking them. With everything so uncertain, Dumbledore had said that the Muggle students should stay at school, where a direct attack was unlikely.

"We'll miss you," Ginny said, smiling, and Zoë blushed and nodded.

Colin's arm tightened around Zoë's shoulders and he smiled back at Ginny. "I'll miss you two, too. You'll have to send me cards so I won't get lonely."

"We can do that," Ginny agreed. "I'll get all my brothers to send some, and you'll be drowned with them." Colin and Zoë laughed, and Ginny shouldered her bag. "Look, I'm going to go find Adrienne and Shelley and see if the carriages are here. Meet me out front, Zoë?"

Zoë nodded, and Ginny threaded through the crowd of students milling around in the Entrance Hall and out the front doors. She caught up with Adrienne and Shelley, who were standing at the bottom of the steps. Zoë joined them a few moments later, looking flushed and wistfully happy, and they piled into a carriage to be taken to the train.

The train journey to London seldom changed, and after Adrienne and Shelley left to talk to some Ravenclaw boys, Zoë and Ginny had the compartment to themselves.

"Peace at last," Ginny said after the girls had gone. She had managed to push her unhappiness aside, determined to put as good a face on her holiday as she could. "I love them both, but they're a bit much, aren't they?"

Zoë nodded. "They can be." She paused, looking at Ginny carefully, brown head cocked to one side. "But now they're gone..." she said, sounding as though she were picking her words carefully. "Ginny, you do know you can tell me anything, right?"

Ginny stared at her friend in surprise. "Of course I do. Why?"

"It's just that—well, I feel a bit like there's something you're not telling me, and I'm a bit worried." Zoë bit her lip earnestly. "And I hope it's not because you think I'm not a good friend or something. I know that with me and Colin, and with NEWTs coming up and studying and everything that it's hard to find time for just us, but I don't want you to think you can't talk to me."

"Oh, Zoë, no! You're one of my best friends!" Ginny reached out to take Zoë's hand.

"I know. It just seems like lately you've been a bit withdrawn, and you always seem to be...gone. Not in the common room, or at the Library, and it's—well, it's a bit worrying." Zoë's fingers tightened on hers. "I just wanted to be sure that it wasn't...well, that it was nothing like your first year or something."

Ginny blanched a bit at the mention of her first year. Truth be told, she hadn't even thought about Tom, not since Draco had come to her last summer. "No, it's nothing like that! Nothing at all. I'm just trying to keep up with schoolwork, and you know how I can't concentrate with people around." She smiled a bit and shrugged, hoping Zoë wouldn't press. "I just go off and find an empty classroom, usually."

"So long as it isn't anything serious," Zoë said, sounding very serious herself. "Because we're both here for you, me and Colin. You can always tell us things."

"I know," Ginny said, and it was so hard not to just tell Zoë everything. She wanted to, wanted to be able to share everything with her friends, to share with them how she felt. She suddenly understood the appeal of sitting about and giggling about boys—it would be such a relief to be able to tell someone about Draco, about how he made her feel.

But she couldn't. Zoë would never understand. She'd said at the start of the year she thought Draco was a prat, and Ginny doubted her opinion had changed. Not to mention, what would she do if Zoë told someone else? There was too much at risk; it would have to stay a secret. Ginny bit back a disappointed sigh and let Zoë draw her into conversation instead, pushing all thought of Draco out of her mind. She'd have to get through this vacation somehow, and worry about the future later.

*

The day after she came home from Hogwarts, Ginny went with Ron and Hermione to Diagon Alley to go Christmas shopping. The place was chock-a-block with people doing their own last minute shopping, so full that it was a struggle to move around without running into a witch or wizard so over-laden with packages that only magic was keeping their parcels from landing in the street. Ginny tagged along behind Ron and Hermione, waiting for the right moment to slip away so she could do some gift-buying of her own.

They ran into Harry when they were barely three stores down; he was skulking along behind a large witch wearing violent pink robes and carrying so many bags and packages that she looked like a huge mountain. He had plastered his hair to his forehead so his scar wasn't visible, and he looked a little hunted in the crowd. They nearly missed him, but he reached out to tug on Hermione's sleeve as they passed.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, and swept him into a hug. "I'm so glad you made it!"

"Of course I made it," Harry said, disentangling himself from Hermione's arms and clapping Ron on the shoulder. "I wouldn't miss meeting up with you—Remus has had us running ragged lately, and Sir—" He caught sight of Ginny and shut his mouth with a snap. "Um. Hi, Ginny."

There was a brief, awkward pause while Harry tried to pretend he hadn't just cut himself off mid-sentence. Ginny sighed to herself and summoned up a small smile. "I was just going to run to Flourish and Blotts, if all of you want to come with me."

"No, go ahead, Gin," Ron said, too quickly. "We'll catch up with you in a bit."

"All right. I'll meet you all at Fortescue's in an hour, then." Ginny turned, moving through the press toward the bookstore. That wasn't her real destination, but it worked well enough as a distraction—they clearly didn't want her around, and she didn't really want to stay and watch the three of them pretend that they didn't wish she'd leave. Across from the bookstore, she stopped to duck into the apothecary, nodding politely to the young man behind the counter. She needed a present for Draco, though she hadn't the foggiest notion what to get him.

There was a display of potions equipment near the back of the shop, and Ginny lingered in front of it, looking at them. Maybe she could get something like this for him—mixing potions was his job, and she knew he was borrowing things from Snape because he didn't have his own. She fingered the measuring cups and glass vials thoughtfully.

"What are you doing in here? I thought you were going to the bookstore."

Ginny spun around to face Ron, heart pounding. He must have followed right behind her; why he hadn't stayed with Harry was beyond her. "I'm shopping for presents, Ron, so go away."

"Presents for who?" Ron asked. He was eyeing the display of potions equipment warily, brow wrinkled. "None of us need potions stuff."

"Then it's obviously not for you. So why don't you let me get on with my shopping, and I'll meet you down at Fortescue's in a bit?" Ginny shrugged in a way she hoped was casual and hoped Ron wouldn't push.

It was a bit of a vain hope. "Who are you buying stuff like this for?" Ron demanded. "Is this for your mystery fellow?"

Ginny sighed and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "What makes you think I'd tell you? Maybe...maybe it's for Zoë. Or Colin."

Ron narrowed his eyes and looked her over. "But it's not, is it? It's for your boyfriend, whoever he is."

"Ron—"

"So he's good at potions, this fellow is?" Ron looked the display of goods over again. "What, is he some sort of suck-up to Snape?" Ron's expression shifted from irritation to dawning horror. "Ginny...it isn't Snape, is it?"

Ginny groaned, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Ron, you've caught me out. I've been carrying on a mad affair with Snape for years," she said. "You know I've always had a thing for dark-haired men."

Ron gargled something incomprehensible and went pale, reaching out to brace himself on the edge of a nearby shelf. "Snape!" he gasped finally. "Ginny!"

"I'm teasing! Ron, you're such a git!" Ginny turned her back on her brother in disgust. "I can't believe you'd actually believe that."

"Well, what am I supposed to believe? You and your mystery boy, and you won't say who it is, and now you're looking at Potions paraphernalia and expect me not to jump to conclusions!"

"And the first thing you think of is that I'm shagging Snape? Ron, he's a teacher!" Ginny was aghast. "Not to mention he's...eugh." She couldn't repress her shudder. The shop clerk was leaning on the counter and watching them with rapt fascination. No doubt this was the most interesting thing he'd heard all day. Honestly, the only way this situation could be worse was if—

"Miss Weasley. And Mr. Weasley. What a pleasant surprise," a dark voice murmured from behind her.

Ginny wished fervently that the ground would simply swallow her up and save her from having to face the owner of that particular voice. Ron made a strangled sound and flushed a deep, unpleasant red, and the clerk leaned so far over the counter Ginny was amazed he didn't topple right onto the floor.

"Hello, Professor," she said weakly, and turned around. Snape smiled unpleasantly down at her, his arms tucked into the folds of his cloak. Ron looked like he wanted to die, and Ginny knew just how he felt. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Hmmm." Snape looked like the cat who'd caught the canary—there was no doubt that he'd overheard at least part of their conversation. "May I suggest, Miss Weasley, that if you are shopping for potions equipment, that you consider McDermott's supplies. They have good quality items and are generally quite reasonable in price. If your...friend," and Ginny cringed at Snape's emphasis, "is going to be using his equipment as much as I think he will, you might consider choosing something from their line."

"Thank you, Professor," she whispered, and Snape smirked at her. He was enjoying this, the bastard, knowing he could make her squirm and Ron go apoplectic without having to give away a single thing that might endanger Draco.

She hated him.

"Always a pleasure to help a student." Snape said, and swept past in a slither of black robes. Ginny closed her eyes against an incipient headache as the clerk rang up Snape's purchases.

Ron whirled on her as soon as Snape was out of the shop, nearly beside himself. "Snape knows who it is? You would tell that greasy, slimy, horrible bastard before you would tell your own brother?!"

"Ron, shut up! You're causing a scene!"

"A scene! You think this is a scene! You're buying presents for someone and Snape knows who it is, but you won't tell me!" Ron was red in the face, gesturing wildly with his arms. "Who—what—is it a Slytherin or something? Is that why you won't tell me?"

"Ron, please. Just stop," Ginny said. "I can't tell you, all right? Not right now. It'd be...it's too complicated, and if you don't stop bothering me, I won't ever tell." She pushed past him to look at the potions equipment on display, determined to at least buy what she'd come for. It looked like Snape was right—McDermott's did seem to have the nicest things. She settled on a set of measuring cups and spoons, tuning Ron's mutterings out with a practiced ear.

The clerk giggled coyly while he rang up her purchases. "So," he said, his voice low, "who is it?"

Ginny gaped at him. "Excuse me?"

"Your young man. I'm dying of curiosity!" He favoured her with a simpering, close-lipped smile.

"If I wouldn't tell my own brother, why on earth would I tell you?" Ginny asked, incredulous.

"Oh, go on. I wouldn't tell anyone!"

Ginny couldn't recall a time when she'd been more insulted. "I don't care!" She swiped her bag off the counter and glared at the man in fury. "It's none of your business!"

She stormed out of the shop, stiff with indignation, not even bothering to wait for Ron. It was bad enough that Ron was prodding her to tell about Draco; now she was being accosted by shop clerks and Snape. She was nearly at Gringotts before she'd calmed down enough to slow her steps and let the anger recede a little bit. A few deep breaths and the walk back up Diagon Alley to Fortescue's helped to restore her equilibrium, and Ginny felt able to face Ron again. And Harry and Hermione—and Mum and Dad and the rest of her brothers, since Ron was sure to have said something by now—and all the questions they were sure to have about her purchases. She thought longingly of Draco's warm, quiet room, where the only thing that might disturb her was him, and went to meet her family.

~*~

It seemed like half of Hogwarts had stayed for Christmas, and Draco spent most of the holiday in his room to avoid the stares of the students. The novelty of his presence here didn't seem to have worn off, and he was watched constantly wherever he went. The Slytherins as a group considered him a traitor and the other Houses were sure he wasn't to be trusted, leaving Draco with no respite from their glances and whispers. He barely minded, though; he and Snape were busy with making up potions for Madam Pomfrey, and Snape was showing him how to prepare some of the more advanced medical brews, as well as all sorts of things he'd never learned in class.

The only thing he did miss was Ginny. Her absence was an ever-present ache, and Draco wasn't sure how he felt about that. He liked spending time with her and he loved her body, but it was disconcerting to realize how difficult it was to be without her. He had never felt that way about anyone; he didn't even miss Mother this much.

Mother, who was no doubt deep in her social whirl, chatting with her friends in the social setting she shone in. Draco didn't even know if she missed him, for Father would never let her contact him here. He didn't exist to his father anymore; he had done something awful enough that Father would never acknowledge him again, and he wouldn't allow Mother to either, whether she wanted to or not.

They were bleak thoughts for such a season, and Draco tried to work enough that he could distract himself from them. It seemed no time at all before Christmas morning arrived, which dawned sunny and bright. Draco was surprised to see a very small pile of presents at the foot of his bed when he woke. He hadn't expected anyone to get him anything, but there was a small present from Dumbledore which, when opened, revealed itself to be a pair of woolen socks, a pair of gloves from Snape, and two other packages he didn't recognize at all.

Draco ignored the note on the first one and ripped open the paper, which held a jumper. It was an incredibly ugly, knobby grey affair made of scratchy wool, with hugely long sleeves, far too big for Draco. Draco stared at it in horror for a moment before he picked up the note.

D -

I can picture the look on your face right now, and am having a good laugh about it. I know you think it's horrible, but Mum decided that she would knit a sweater for my 'young man' this year, after she found out I had one, and here you are. We all get them every year—Mum loves to knit. I'll show you mine when I get back, and you can laugh at me too if it'll make you feel better. She asked me what colour, and I told her grey, to match your eyes, so I hope it's all right. Zoë says that her mum always says how silly you look in an outfit is directly related to how warm you are, so you'll probably be quite toasty when you wear it. The other present should be useful, and you don't have to worry about your looks with that one.

I miss you.

G

Ginny, of course. He wasn't sure why he was surprised.

Draco read the note through again, and then held the horrible jumper up, shaking his head. There was no way that he would be caught dead wearing such a thing. He wondered if he could convince Ginny that he'd accidentally dropped it in the fire or had it eaten by acid in an unfortunate potions accident. Draco eyed his workbench thoughtfully. Except she'd probably just have her mother make him another, and then he'd have to think of a way to get rid of that one too. Draco sighed and pushed the sweater aside, pulling the other present toward himself. It was heavy, a long rectangular box that must have taken two owls to carry.

Unwrapped, the second gift proved to be a deep box wrapped in dragonhide leather, neat silver clasps holding it shut. Inside, nestled into dark green velvet, was a set of silver measuring cups for potions. A matching set of spoons was set into the lid, and Draco pulled one out, weighing it in his hand with a small smile. Elegant, practical and something he'd never have thought to buy for himself. Draco set the spoon back in its holder and closed the box, running his hand over the leather with a pleased smile.

The smile faded after a moment; Ginny had gotten him two things, and he hadn't gotten her anything. Unable to leave the castle, he couldn't buy her a present himself, and he hadn't wanted to delegate something like that to Snape. Not to mention he had no idea what she might like...she never really seemed to want anything, nor did she express any interest in the things all the other girls of Draco's acquaintance had liked. He would have to think of something, and give it to her when she returned from holidays in a week.

~*~

The talk with Mum and Dad about her mysterious young man went better than Ginny had any right to expect. She had intimated that the boy was a Hufflepuff, since it obviously wasn't someone in Gryffindor, and Percy would surely ask Penelope about anyone in Ravenclaw. Mum and Dad had interpreted her reluctance to talk as shyness, and Mum had only made plans to knit an extra jumper to send to the boy. Which she had done, and Ginny had wrapped and sent it to Hogwarts along with her own present for Draco. She only wished she could be there to see his face when he opened the package.

Draco didn't send her anything in return, but Ginny hadn't really expected him to. He wasn't able to leave the castle, after all, and it would undoubtedly look strange for her to be getting packages from Hogwarts, mystery boy or no. It was nice enough to be home, with all her brothers around and Harry and Hermione dropping in for Mum to exclaim over, and helping with the baking and cooking. There was always a big meal to prepare, it seemed, with the twins dropping in at all hours, and Bill and Charlie both home for the holidays.

Ron was at the Ministry, despite the fuss Mum had made about him working through the holidays, and Percy was with his fiancée Penelope's family, so it was just the twins, Charlie, and Bill at home for dinner. Ginny was surprised Mum hadn't made more of a protest; after all, Ginny would be returning to school in just under a week, and Bill and Charlie would be going back to their jobs soon, and Mum was always big on the family dinners. But Mum hadn't, and after the meal, the twins got pegged for dish-washing duty while everyone else settled down in the drawing room for dessert and tea. Ginny curled up in the rocking chair by the fireplace and stared into the flames, listening to her family with half an ear. Bill was regaling them all with a tale about a cursed pyramid and an attack of mutant mummies when a tall, handsome man with dark hair appeared in the hall with a pop of displaced air.

"You've got to get out of here!" the man said, almost before he'd materialized fully. "There's no time to spare, you've got to leave!"

Everyone froze with astonishment, then all the boys leapt to their feet, talking at once. The man waved them all to silence. "There's been attacks all over tonight, they've gone and hit everywhere they can. Diagon Alley, the Ministry, wizard houses all over the country—we're trying to get to everyone we can before they do. You've got to go!"

Dad goggled at the man. "They've what?"

"I told you, attacks all over, they'll be here next...you've got to get out!"

Another soft pop came from the hall, behind the strange man, and Harry pushed his head in through the door. "We don't have time for questions. Sorry Mr. Weasley, but you've got to get out of here now. You're going to have Death Eaters on your doorstep in minutes!"

Mum gasped, and Dad turned to the man. "They hit the Ministry?"

The man nodded. "Damn near blew the place up. It's even odds as to whether Fudge is even still alive. Christian Keskull is running things in his stead, and he's trying to organize things, but he's only an under-secretary. They'll need a clear head, Arthur, if you want to go up there."

"I will," Dad said, and the man barely waited for the acknowledgement before he disappeared through the kitchen door. Dad shook his head as he pulled his wand. "Molly, you'll look after the boys, and Ginny?"

"Of course," Mum said, and Dad leaned down to kiss her. "We'll be fine. Don't you worry, Arthur."

Dad vanished, and Mum waved her hands distractedly, looking around at the rest of them. "Bill, follow your father, luv. He'll know where you can help. Charlie, you do the same. Ginny - " Mum stopped and bit her lip. "I'll go talk to him about you. I'm sure you can Floo out." Mum vanished into the kitchen, wringing her hands.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Gin," Charlie said gently. "Everything'll be fine." He gave her what was probably meant to be an encouraging grin, and pulled his wand. He vanished with a pop, and Ginny stared at the spot where he'd been a moment before with growing terror.

The dark-haired man appeared in the door, glaring at her with wild eyes. "What are you waiting for? Merlin, girl, Apparate!"

"I can't!" Ginny cried frantically. "I don't know how yet!"

The man swore under his breath and strode to the kitchen. "Harry!" he called, his voice harsh.

Mum appeared instead of Harry, waving her hands frantically. "There you are! Ginny doesn't know how to Apparate!"

The man caught her by the arms. "I know that, thank you. Mrs. Weasley, you have to go. Harry and I will take care of her." He let go of Mum to push an impatient hand through his hair. "Dammit, we don't have time for this. There isn't anywhere that's safe enough for you to Floo, or I'd just send you off that way. And they've closed off the Floo network to Hogwarts." He stopped and rounded on Ginny, ignoring Mum's nervous hand-wringing. "Can you fly?"

Ginny nodded with trepidation.

"Good," the man barked. "Then that's what you'll do. Mrs. Weasley, Apparate now or I will port you out."

Mum opened her mouth, veering from nervousness to she-dragon anger, and the man drew his wand threateningly. Clearly he meant it. Mum closed her mouth with an audible snap and rushed to Ginny. "You be careful!" she said loudly, and kissed Ginny on the cheek. Then she drew her own wand, glared at the dark-haired man, and Apparated away.

Harry raced in from the kitchen as Mum did so, and the man turned to him. "Where's your broom?"

Harry didn't even blink. "It's out back. Floo network down?"

"It's not down, but not safe. She says she can fly, so she'll have to go that way. Everyone else out?"

"Yes, I sent the twins on to Remus, they're fine." Harry turned to Ginny. "Come on," he said urgently. "We've got to get moving, they'll be here any minute."

"Wait!" Ginny ignored the sharp, irritated exclamation from the strange man as she darted up the stairs to her room. She grabbed her book bag and Shadow cloak and raced back down the stairs.

The man looked at her cloak as she re-entered the kitchen and nodded, some of the irritation leaving his face. "Good thinking," he said, and motioned her out into the garden.

Harry was waiting there with his broom, a new model Firebolt 3000. "Oh, good, I forgot you had a Shadow cloak," he said as he spotted her. "It should hold, as long as you stay out of sight as much as you can. You'll have to go all the way to Hogwarts, there's nowhere else that's safe, not for flying in. Think you'll be ok?" he asked.

Ginny nodded, clutching at her bag nervously. "Will you all be all right?" she asked. "I mean, Mum—"

"They'll be fine," Harry said. He smiled reassuringly and patted the broom's handle. "And you'll be fine too. Fly high, and try to keep to trees, or unpopulated areas. Tell Dumbledore what's happened when you get there."

"I will. Harry—" She grabbed at his arm, pulling him toward her. "Be careful."

"I will." Harry hugged her tight, and kissed her on the cheek. "You be careful too. Owl Remus Lupin at the Ministry to let us know you got there safely. He'll get the message to me."

Ginny nodded and climbed onto the broom, settling her bag onto her back and arranging her cloak around her. Harry reached out to twitch a fold into place and smiled again. Ginny tried to return it, but her face felt too stiff. She'd never flown much further than a two hour flight could take her; she didn't know how she was going to make it all the way to school. But there was no other way.

*

It was a long, cold, frightening journey, and Ginny didn't dare stop. The strange man who'd come to tell them to leave the Burrow had said there were attacks all over, and she didn't want to risk it. She could only push on, and hope that all her family had made it to safety.

She was staggering with weariness by the time she dismounted in the early morning, outside the Hogwarts gates. The gates themselves were closed, for the first time Ginny could remember, and two Aurors were guarding them. "Good lord," one said as he spotted her, and they both whipped their wands out, leveling them at her through the gates. "Who're you?" he demanded.

"I'm Ginny Weasley," she said. "Please, I go to school here. My house was attacked last night, and they sent me here. I need to talk to Dumbledore."

The Auror narrowed his eyes. "Who sent you here?"

"Harry. Harry Potter, he's friends with my brother, he's an Auror. Please!" Ginny could feel tears pricking behind her eyes as the two Aurors exchanged looks. She hadn't come all this way by broom just to be turned away from Hogwarts.

The first man lowered his wand cautiously. "We'll send up for Dumbledore," he said. "You just stay right there."

Ginny nearly wailed, squeezing her eyes shut against her tears. She leaned against Harry's broomstick while they waited for Dumbledore to arrive. He did minutes later; his steps quickened when he caught sight of her standing on the other side of the gates. "Let her through," he called, motioning to the Aurors.

Both men hesitated, and Dumbledore stopped beside them and looked at them over the tops of his spectacles. "My dear gentlemen, if Voldemort and his supporters have sunk to impersonating schoolgirls to gain access to Hogwarts, then we are worse off in this battle than I care to contemplate. This is Ginny Weasley, and I have received an owl from the Ministry that she would be arriving. You may open the gates and let her through."

"Yes, sir," the first Auror said, and unlocked the gate, pushing it open just far enough so that Ginny could squeeze through. She did, and Dumbledore motioned for her to follow him, guiding her up to the castle and into his office, where she sank gratefully into a chair, relieved to be able to sit on something that wasn't moving.

"I'm pleased to see you here," Dumbledore said finally. "We were contacted by Remus Lupin earlier, and were quite worried that you hadn't arrived yet. No, child, I'm not scolding you—it's a long way from Devon on broomstick. But we have been awaiting you."

"Harry said to tell you that we'd been attacked," Ginny said. "But if you've talked to Mr. Lupin, I suppose you know."

"I do, and it was not just your house. The Ministry as well, though you'll be pleased to hear that all of your brothers are safe and accounted for." Dumbledore smiled at her, his eyes kind. "I understand that Ron made quite a name for himself at the Ministry last night, protecting people from the Death Eaters."

Ginny cheered a bit at that; Ron must be so proud. "Are my parents all right? And the Burrow?"

Dumbledore's cheerfulness faded a bit. "Your parents are well, but I'm afraid there was some harm to the house. The Aurors saved what they could, but they couldn't prevent some damages."

"Oh." In a way, that was hardest of all. The Burrow, damaged. Her cozy room, with all her posters and books, their low-ceilinged kitchen that had always been a safe haven for her and her brothers when they were children, the huge stone fireplace that warmed the whole house. "But it's not...not too bad?"

"Nothing that cannot be mended, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said gently. He might have spoken further, but the door to his anteroom was flung open. Ginny spun around in her chair, to see Draco standing in the doorway, his shoulders set in tense lines.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I thought we'd be seeing you." Dumbledore smiled at Draco, who nodded but didn't return his greeting. "I think we're done here. I'll let Miss Weasley go with you, then. I trust you'll take care of her."

"Yes, sir," Draco said sharply, and held his hand out to Ginny. She stood and took it with a brief, shy look at Dumbledore, who smiled at her, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

Ginny followed Draco silently out to the stairs and down to the main hallway. It was deserted; not surprising, since it was far too early for anyone to be up and about. Draco had her hand in a vice-like grip, just short of pain, and he all but pulled Ginny along as he strode down toward the dungeons. He didn't look at her or speak until they got to his door, where he snapped out the password and pushed her roughly inside. Ginny nearly fell before she caught her balance. She whirled on him angrily. "What is wrong with you?"

Draco slammed the door. "What do you think is wrong?" he asked, his voice icy. "Do you have any idea how much danger you were in?"

"I should think so, since I was the one who was out there!" She shoved a hand through her tangled hair; she hadn't even had time to sort herself out. "And anyway, it hardly matters."

"It hard—" Draco snapped his mouth shut and glared at her. "It certainly does matter! You just spent half the night doing something insanely foolish, and you think it doesn't matter?"

"Draco, nothing happened!" she said in astonishment. He was clearly furious, clenching and unclenching his fists as he paced in a small circle in front of her. "I'm fine, and it isn't as if I've never flown on a broom before. What are you so brassed off about?"

"Because it was a bloody foolish thing to do!" he shouted. "Merlin, Ginny, you could have been killed!"

"Well I wasn't!"

"You could have been!" Draco took three long steps toward her and grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her arms. He gave her a hard shake. "You could have been spotted by a Muggle, or hit, or attacked by Death Eaters or any number of things that would have ended up with you dead somewhere and no one would have known!"

"Well I didn't have much of a choice! The Floo network wasn't safe, and I don't know how to Apparate, and there wasn't any other way!" Ginny pushed at his chest ineffectually. "If there were I would have used it. But there wasn't! So I don't see why you're being such a prat."

Draco snarled—actually snarled at her—and then pulled her toward him, one hand rising to sink into her hair, and claimed her lips in a harsh, bruising kiss. Ginny made a frightened noise, unprepared for the anger she could feel behind it. Draco's hands on her gentled slightly, but he didn't let her go; instead, he pushed her back until she felt the hard edge of his desk against her hips.

Ginny slid her hands up his chest to cling to his shoulders, though whether to push him away or to pull him closer even she wasn't sure. A small, dark part of her was responding wildly to Draco's aggressiveness, was not only welcoming it but pushing back. She moaned when Draco lifted her up and set her on the edge of the desk, pushing her robes out of his way and shifting her thighs apart so that he could settle between them. She grabbed at his robes to pull him closer still, suddenly desperate to have him near her, in her.

He made short work of her clothes and his own, and then he was there, exactly where she wanted him. Ginny sighed into his mouth as he moved, unable to do more than cling to him and ride through the flash-flood of emotions racing through her.

Draco collapsed against her, breathing heavily into her neck. Ginny hugged him tighter, as though she could reassure him that she was all right through sheer force of will. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his hair. "Draco, I'm sorry."

Draco raised one hand and buried it in the hair at the back of her neck, cradling her skull. "You should be sorry," he murmured, but the anger had gone out of his voice. He raised his head to look at her, and Ginny was shocked to see that his eyes were wet, glittering in the candlelight. "You could have died."

Ginny's breath caught in her throat. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, barely audible.

Draco closed his eyes and tilted his head toward her, some of the desperate tension leaving him as Ginny smoothed her hands down the long line of his back. "Stay here with me," he whispered. Ginny opened her mouth to protest, to say that she couldn't, but he covered her lips with his fingers, and then with his mouth. "Stay," he murmured again, and all she could do was nod.