Chapter Eight: Complexity
"I've tried everything," Minora said. "She won't talk to anyone. She's missed half of our Transfiguration and the whole of Care of Magical Creatures."
"That's not like her," pondered Hermione, pouting her lips thoughtfully. "She wouldn't risk being revoked from her Prefect position like that."
"Will she be?" asked Ron hoarsely.
Hermione shook her bushy head. "No," she said, "I don't think so. Normally she would, but I think I can talk McGonagall out of it."
"That's good," Ron nodded and lowered his head to stare at the maroon carpeting. Since they had arrived, he followed Hermione to the common room to check on Ginny. He was really starting to worry about her. When she was little, she'd have tantrums and lock herself in her room all the time. But she had grown out of it once she reached the age of 10.
"Do you know what happened?" Ron asked suddenly, and was disappointed to see Minora shake her head.
"No," she said, looking just as disappointed. "She won't say. All I know is that Professor Lupin called for her during Transfiguration — "
"Harry," Ron said quietly, but Hermione shook her head.
"That was ages ago though," Hermione reasoned. "The Fat Lady said Ginny hadn't been in here for that long."
"So what could've happened to her between that time?" Minora asked, looking from one to the other.
Hermione shook her head thoughtfully and began to burn a hole through the ground with her eyes. Minora, sensing she was in deep thought, slowly lowered herself into a seat, just as Ron had jumped up.
"Ron?" Hermione asked warily.
"Malfoy," Ron said simply, balling his hands up into fists.
"What?" both girls said at the same time, Minora's tone slightly squeakier than Hermione's.
"Malfoy," Ron said louder. "It's got to be him."
"But — how do you know?" asked Minora. "Madam Pomphrey would've sent Ginny back if she had been there for so long — "
But Ron shook his flaming red head. "It's Malfoy," he said with conviction.
"Ron," said Hermione, who watched him like he was a bomb about to go any second, "I don't think — " But Ron had already started out the common room. "Ron!" Hermione yelled after him. "Come back!"
But he had already left.
* * *
"So he's done it then," Potter's voice echoed in his head. "He's found a way to come back."
"In a way," came Snape's, "he never left."
"Tom was always such a clever boy," Dumbledore had said, the amusement clear in his tone.
"I don't understand," Potter said. "I thought that once you've died... that's it."
"Magic works in mysterious ways," said Dumbledore. "It's quite fascinating, really — to preserve your power and soul inside another, single human being is a wonderful example of ancient magic. See, physically — he's died. But spiritually — he's just as alive as you or me." He chuckled slightly, ice-blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, very clever indeed. I never would've put it past Tom to think up something like that. He was always fascinated with the ancient arts."
"So... What happens now?" asked Potter.
"I think," Dumbledore said slowly, his sharp blue eyes turning ever so slightly towards Draco, "that all we can do now is wait."
Draco opened his eyes, and allowed them to take in his surroundings. He was hunched over his bed in his flat, which was donned with a variety of the best-tasting liquor London had. He had hoped that Mr. Whiskey — a good, good old friend of his — would've helped clear his mind. Three bottles later, his mind was as full as Granger's would've been before an exam.
He was tired. All he wanted to do was forget.
And yet, with every gulp in hopes to forget, he remembers — each memory getting clearer and clearer. The conversation, the visions — everything. All he wanted to do was forget it all.
How could Voldemort still be alive?
He stared at the shot glass in his hand until his vision focused. He slowly lifted his hand to wipe the side of his mouth, where a small amount of Whiskey had escaped during his sleep. He licked his hand sleepily, hoping to savor the last portion of liquor he had. How happy he was when he had turned 18, and was legal enough to buy his own liquor. Trying to get drunk with butterbeer didn't prove to be quite as fun as Draco had thought it'd be.
In all his rush to get out of Snape's office, he had forgotten to get an antidote to the potion he had drank, so the migraine was still there, although now it was accompanied by a nice thump thanks to his drinking. The thumping intensified and Draco had gotten to the point where he was about to scream when he realized that the thumping was coming from his head — but from his door.
He groaned and shut his eyes tight, willing the person to disappear. The knocking persisted, no matter how hard Draco had wished it away.
"Go away," he shouted at the door, burying his head into his hands.
"Fuck you," said the door, and Draco literally fell off his bed at the sound of the voice.
"Not you," he groaned, and pulled his covers over him in hopes to hide himself as the door swung open.
"You'd think someone as bent out on privacy as you would at least Alhohamora-proof their locks," Ron said, as he stepped over the lump of blankets that was Draco.
"What do you want, Weasley?" Draco whined, wanting nothing more than to be left alone. His lips curled threateningly as Ron pulled his covers off of him. He pulled himself up to glare menacingly at Ron, and was pleased to see that he no longer had to tilt his head up to look Ron in the eye anymore. The redhead still stood taller than Draco, but now not by much.
"What've you done to her?" Ron asked, catching Draco off guard.
"Eh?" Draco said, completely forgetting all composure.
"What," said Ron again, making sure to enunciate each word slowly, "have you done to her?"
"Who her?"
"Ginny," said Ron, completely blowing Draco away.
"What're you talking about?" asked Draco, looking at Ron like he was daft.
But instead of answering, Ron turned to Draco's bed, where empty bottles lay to waste. He shook his head and gave Draco a disgusted look.
"Try to make it all go away, aren't you?" Ron said, giving Draco an uncharacteristic smirk.
Draco snarled. What bothered him more was that Ron had hit it pretty close to home, though he doubted Ron had any idea just what he was trying to make "go away". Ron chuckled dryly.
"Tell me what you've done to her," Ron said, trying to make himself sound as intimidating as possible.
"I haven't done anything to her," Draco answered truthfully.
"My ass," said Ron, who began to ball up his hands into fists. "She's missed her classes, locked herself in her room, hasn't eaten — "
"And naturally," said Draco, loud enough to interrupt Ron, "you think it's my fault."
"Did she go to the Infirmary today or not?" asked Ron.
"Yes," said Draco slowly, and saw Ron twitch slightly.
"What did you do?"
"Did it ever occur to you," said Draco, "that I just might be telling the truth?"
"Don't make me laugh," said Ron, irritation quite clear in his tone.
"Oh I wouldn't dare put you through that kind of pain," Draco answered, and turned his back to Ron to look for another bottle.
"Sod it," snapped Ron. "I'm not here for your sarcasm."
"And heaven knows you're not here to clean up," quipped Draco, and dug beneath his pillow to retrieve a fresh bottle of scotch. He screwed up the cap and sniffed it. "Have you ever thought to ask Potter?" he said casually, and began to lick the edges of the bottle.
"What does Harry have to do with anything?" asked Ron suspiciously.
"A lot more than you might think," sneered Draco.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Stop your games."
"Are you not having any fun?" mocked Draco, fluttering his eyelashes at the other man.
Ron fumed. "Tell me what you've done to her you slimy — "
"Yeah, that's right. Insult me," said Draco, "that'll get me to tell you." He rolled his eyes. "Ever stop to think that Ginny's like that because of Potter?"
Ron's upper lip twitched at Draco's use of his sister's first name. Draco grinned fiendishly.
"Harry?" Ron said, and scoffed. "Harry would never hurt — "
"You don't know what Harry's capable of doing," said Draco, swirling around the contents of the bottle he held. "Do you have any idea why Ginny came to the Infirmary — to me?"
Draco took the silence as a "yes" and answered his own question,
"She wanted comfort — not like that, you prat," Draco added quickly, upon seeing the murderous look on Ron's face. "She wanted someone to talk to. Yes, it surprises me as well that she turns to me, of all people."
Ron scoffed. "You're telling me that Ginny came to you because of something Harry did?"
"Pretty much," Draco answered. "But what Potter did exactly, I don't know. Whatever it is, though, sure pissed the hell out of Ginny."
"Am I supposed to believe your pathetic lie?"
"If by 'lie' you mean 'utmost truth', than yeah." Draco grinned. "It's hard isn't it? To think of Perfect Potter capable of hurting your poor, sweet little sister."
Draco's eyes glistened upon seeing the look on Ron's face — he had struck a nerve.
"That's it, isn't it?" said Draco, understanding now. "He's hurt her before, hasn't he?" Ron refused to answer, but the look in his eyes gave him away. "But being the git Potter is, he probably didn't even know he was. That's just wonderful," smirked Draco. "Your best friend hurting your sister. No wonder she came to me."
"You're disgusting," growled Ron. He had had enough. "You don't care about anyone but you. Not even Ginny, when she worried for you when you weren't well — as nutters as she was for that, she still did it. And you can't even show the least bit of compassion? Do you even know what that means? I bet you don't. Why would a Malfoy know something about that? You're pathetic. Just like your fa — "
He stopped dead for Draco had him pinned to the wall with his wand aimed threateningly at Ron's throat. His whole body shook with suppressed anger and his usual cool gray eyes were livid.
"Say it and I'll do it," he growled, breathing sharply through his mouth, "I've done it before, Weasley, don't make me do it to you." He relaxed his grip on his wand slightly, and uttered a hoarse, "Get out."
"Not until you tell me what you've done to Ginny," said Ron, doing very well in keeping is voice firm. Draco hid a smirk. As much as he hated to admit it, he admired Ron's bravery. Most men wouldn't pursue anything with a wand jammed against their throat.
"I haven't done anything to her," Draco said for the umpteenth time that day. He backed away from Ron and sat down on his bed, retrieving the fallen scotch bottle. "Now — hic — get out."
Ron, while still looking miffed, felt no need to push the drunk Draco any further and quickly made his way out of the flat.
"Blasted Weasleys," Draco cursed, and proceeded to drown himself in scotch.
* * *
He said she could trust him. He was so sincere about it. She poured out her heart and soul to Tom, thinking he was her friend. He said he was.
He said he would always be there for her. That she didn't have to be alone anymore. That he would be everything she needed.
But he scared her.
She felt him reaching out to her — to her soul. She felt his cold breath inside her lungs, felt him breathe — live — through her.
She tried to make him go away. She felt betrayed. How could he do that to her, she wondered. He said he was her friend.
But he came back. No matter how hard she tried to push him away, he kept coming back. He called to her. She felt that a part of him had never left her, and the thought scared her. She was only 11. 11 year olds are supposed to be afraid of monsters under the bed, not inside themselves.
"Come with me," he told her. He promised to take her away from all of her troubles. From everyone. "It'll just be you and me," he promised.
And she accepted. She wanted to go away. She wanted to be with him. Because underneath it all, he had been her one true friend. She didn't want to lose his friendship.
But he had grown. He was stronger — strong enough to be real. "Come with me," he said again, but she was afraid. He wasn't the same person she knew. He had changed. She didn't like the new Tom.
"Come, Ginny," he said, his voice getting stern.
She tried to run, but he caught her. He took her away.
The chamber was cold, she remembered. She didn't know how long she had been in there, but it felt like a very long time.
He had done something to her — something bad. She couldn't move — she couldn't even feel herself breathing. But she could hear his thoughts. He could hear hers'. She knew she was alive. She knew she was there, without really being there at all.
He hadn't taken away her soul.
"Tom," she'd plead with him. "Tom — please!"
"Foolish child," he said had told her. "No one's going to come for you."
"NO!" she'd scream, but he would just laugh — a cold, unmerciful laugh that had no hint of compassion in it.
"You're all alone now, Ginny," he said. "You'll always be alone."
"No!" Ginny gasped, and shivered in Hermione's arms. Tears stained Ginny's pale face as Hermione squeezed her tightly. "No," Ginny breathed, suddenly relaxing and falling into Hermione's hug.
Minora's eyes widened to the size of plates, but Hermione remained calm. She rocked Ginny back and forth. Within no time, she had fallen back into a deep sleep.
Hermione held her tightly, fearing what would happen if she let Ginny go.
"Oh, Ginny," Hermione whispered, cradling her gently. "What's happening to you?"
Chapter Nine; Draco charms, Ginny blushes, Ron reveals, Hermione gasps, Dumbledore chuckles and Snape reflects.
Well this chapter wasn't very eventful, but at least it's something. Many thanks to those who reviewed! You all have no idea how happy you've made me! *-*
Kasumi: I love it when people see Draco differently too!
wolviesrogue: Awe, your words have really cheered me up. Draco's still a git, just not to Ginny (or not that much). I tried to make him be one in this chapter, and I hope I did okay. ^^; I'm also sorry that I haven't really explained on the whole Ginny/Harry thing, so I'll try and do that in the next chapter.
Robyn: Thank you! I'm thrilled you like it!
JuunanazGurl: Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to read your story yet — my life's getting a bit hectic right now, but I'll try and get to it soon, kay? ^^
Madussa: Hugs to you too! I hope the story doesn't get stale as it progresses. ^^;
Joya: My fellow Ferret — I'm sorry to say the leather pants won't be coming back for a while. But I hope the fic's satisfactory without it. XD
Angel7895: Er, I hope I answered your question. Sorry for being a bit vague about it though. ^^;
Also, in case anyone's bored or anything, please visit Open To Interpretation () - my highly opinionated Draco fansite for Draco lovers everywhere! I promise not to waste your time (or I'll try not to). ^^;
"I've tried everything," Minora said. "She won't talk to anyone. She's missed half of our Transfiguration and the whole of Care of Magical Creatures."
"That's not like her," pondered Hermione, pouting her lips thoughtfully. "She wouldn't risk being revoked from her Prefect position like that."
"Will she be?" asked Ron hoarsely.
Hermione shook her bushy head. "No," she said, "I don't think so. Normally she would, but I think I can talk McGonagall out of it."
"That's good," Ron nodded and lowered his head to stare at the maroon carpeting. Since they had arrived, he followed Hermione to the common room to check on Ginny. He was really starting to worry about her. When she was little, she'd have tantrums and lock herself in her room all the time. But she had grown out of it once she reached the age of 10.
"Do you know what happened?" Ron asked suddenly, and was disappointed to see Minora shake her head.
"No," she said, looking just as disappointed. "She won't say. All I know is that Professor Lupin called for her during Transfiguration — "
"Harry," Ron said quietly, but Hermione shook her head.
"That was ages ago though," Hermione reasoned. "The Fat Lady said Ginny hadn't been in here for that long."
"So what could've happened to her between that time?" Minora asked, looking from one to the other.
Hermione shook her head thoughtfully and began to burn a hole through the ground with her eyes. Minora, sensing she was in deep thought, slowly lowered herself into a seat, just as Ron had jumped up.
"Ron?" Hermione asked warily.
"Malfoy," Ron said simply, balling his hands up into fists.
"What?" both girls said at the same time, Minora's tone slightly squeakier than Hermione's.
"Malfoy," Ron said louder. "It's got to be him."
"But — how do you know?" asked Minora. "Madam Pomphrey would've sent Ginny back if she had been there for so long — "
But Ron shook his flaming red head. "It's Malfoy," he said with conviction.
"Ron," said Hermione, who watched him like he was a bomb about to go any second, "I don't think — " But Ron had already started out the common room. "Ron!" Hermione yelled after him. "Come back!"
But he had already left.
"So he's done it then," Potter's voice echoed in his head. "He's found a way to come back."
"In a way," came Snape's, "he never left."
"Tom was always such a clever boy," Dumbledore had said, the amusement clear in his tone.
"I don't understand," Potter said. "I thought that once you've died... that's it."
"Magic works in mysterious ways," said Dumbledore. "It's quite fascinating, really — to preserve your power and soul inside another, single human being is a wonderful example of ancient magic. See, physically — he's died. But spiritually — he's just as alive as you or me." He chuckled slightly, ice-blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, very clever indeed. I never would've put it past Tom to think up something like that. He was always fascinated with the ancient arts."
"So... What happens now?" asked Potter.
"I think," Dumbledore said slowly, his sharp blue eyes turning ever so slightly towards Draco, "that all we can do now is wait."
Draco opened his eyes, and allowed them to take in his surroundings. He was hunched over his bed in his flat, which was donned with a variety of the best-tasting liquor London had. He had hoped that Mr. Whiskey — a good, good old friend of his — would've helped clear his mind. Three bottles later, his mind was as full as Granger's would've been before an exam.
He was tired. All he wanted to do was forget.
And yet, with every gulp in hopes to forget, he remembers — each memory getting clearer and clearer. The conversation, the visions — everything. All he wanted to do was forget it all.
How could Voldemort still be alive?
He stared at the shot glass in his hand until his vision focused. He slowly lifted his hand to wipe the side of his mouth, where a small amount of Whiskey had escaped during his sleep. He licked his hand sleepily, hoping to savor the last portion of liquor he had. How happy he was when he had turned 18, and was legal enough to buy his own liquor. Trying to get drunk with butterbeer didn't prove to be quite as fun as Draco had thought it'd be.
In all his rush to get out of Snape's office, he had forgotten to get an antidote to the potion he had drank, so the migraine was still there, although now it was accompanied by a nice thump thanks to his drinking. The thumping intensified and Draco had gotten to the point where he was about to scream when he realized that the thumping was coming from his head — but from his door.
He groaned and shut his eyes tight, willing the person to disappear. The knocking persisted, no matter how hard Draco had wished it away.
"Go away," he shouted at the door, burying his head into his hands.
"Fuck you," said the door, and Draco literally fell off his bed at the sound of the voice.
"Not you," he groaned, and pulled his covers over him in hopes to hide himself as the door swung open.
"You'd think someone as bent out on privacy as you would at least Alhohamora-proof their locks," Ron said, as he stepped over the lump of blankets that was Draco.
"What do you want, Weasley?" Draco whined, wanting nothing more than to be left alone. His lips curled threateningly as Ron pulled his covers off of him. He pulled himself up to glare menacingly at Ron, and was pleased to see that he no longer had to tilt his head up to look Ron in the eye anymore. The redhead still stood taller than Draco, but now not by much.
"What've you done to her?" Ron asked, catching Draco off guard.
"Eh?" Draco said, completely forgetting all composure.
"What," said Ron again, making sure to enunciate each word slowly, "have you done to her?"
"Who her?"
"Ginny," said Ron, completely blowing Draco away.
"What're you talking about?" asked Draco, looking at Ron like he was daft.
But instead of answering, Ron turned to Draco's bed, where empty bottles lay to waste. He shook his head and gave Draco a disgusted look.
"Try to make it all go away, aren't you?" Ron said, giving Draco an uncharacteristic smirk.
Draco snarled. What bothered him more was that Ron had hit it pretty close to home, though he doubted Ron had any idea just what he was trying to make "go away". Ron chuckled dryly.
"Tell me what you've done to her," Ron said, trying to make himself sound as intimidating as possible.
"I haven't done anything to her," Draco answered truthfully.
"My ass," said Ron, who began to ball up his hands into fists. "She's missed her classes, locked herself in her room, hasn't eaten — "
"And naturally," said Draco, loud enough to interrupt Ron, "you think it's my fault."
"Did she go to the Infirmary today or not?" asked Ron.
"Yes," said Draco slowly, and saw Ron twitch slightly.
"What did you do?"
"Did it ever occur to you," said Draco, "that I just might be telling the truth?"
"Don't make me laugh," said Ron, irritation quite clear in his tone.
"Oh I wouldn't dare put you through that kind of pain," Draco answered, and turned his back to Ron to look for another bottle.
"Sod it," snapped Ron. "I'm not here for your sarcasm."
"And heaven knows you're not here to clean up," quipped Draco, and dug beneath his pillow to retrieve a fresh bottle of scotch. He screwed up the cap and sniffed it. "Have you ever thought to ask Potter?" he said casually, and began to lick the edges of the bottle.
"What does Harry have to do with anything?" asked Ron suspiciously.
"A lot more than you might think," sneered Draco.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Stop your games."
"Are you not having any fun?" mocked Draco, fluttering his eyelashes at the other man.
Ron fumed. "Tell me what you've done to her you slimy — "
"Yeah, that's right. Insult me," said Draco, "that'll get me to tell you." He rolled his eyes. "Ever stop to think that Ginny's like that because of Potter?"
Ron's upper lip twitched at Draco's use of his sister's first name. Draco grinned fiendishly.
"Harry?" Ron said, and scoffed. "Harry would never hurt — "
"You don't know what Harry's capable of doing," said Draco, swirling around the contents of the bottle he held. "Do you have any idea why Ginny came to the Infirmary — to me?"
Draco took the silence as a "yes" and answered his own question,
"She wanted comfort — not like that, you prat," Draco added quickly, upon seeing the murderous look on Ron's face. "She wanted someone to talk to. Yes, it surprises me as well that she turns to me, of all people."
Ron scoffed. "You're telling me that Ginny came to you because of something Harry did?"
"Pretty much," Draco answered. "But what Potter did exactly, I don't know. Whatever it is, though, sure pissed the hell out of Ginny."
"Am I supposed to believe your pathetic lie?"
"If by 'lie' you mean 'utmost truth', than yeah." Draco grinned. "It's hard isn't it? To think of Perfect Potter capable of hurting your poor, sweet little sister."
Draco's eyes glistened upon seeing the look on Ron's face — he had struck a nerve.
"That's it, isn't it?" said Draco, understanding now. "He's hurt her before, hasn't he?" Ron refused to answer, but the look in his eyes gave him away. "But being the git Potter is, he probably didn't even know he was. That's just wonderful," smirked Draco. "Your best friend hurting your sister. No wonder she came to me."
"You're disgusting," growled Ron. He had had enough. "You don't care about anyone but you. Not even Ginny, when she worried for you when you weren't well — as nutters as she was for that, she still did it. And you can't even show the least bit of compassion? Do you even know what that means? I bet you don't. Why would a Malfoy know something about that? You're pathetic. Just like your fa — "
He stopped dead for Draco had him pinned to the wall with his wand aimed threateningly at Ron's throat. His whole body shook with suppressed anger and his usual cool gray eyes were livid.
"Say it and I'll do it," he growled, breathing sharply through his mouth, "I've done it before, Weasley, don't make me do it to you." He relaxed his grip on his wand slightly, and uttered a hoarse, "Get out."
"Not until you tell me what you've done to Ginny," said Ron, doing very well in keeping is voice firm. Draco hid a smirk. As much as he hated to admit it, he admired Ron's bravery. Most men wouldn't pursue anything with a wand jammed against their throat.
"I haven't done anything to her," Draco said for the umpteenth time that day. He backed away from Ron and sat down on his bed, retrieving the fallen scotch bottle. "Now — hic — get out."
Ron, while still looking miffed, felt no need to push the drunk Draco any further and quickly made his way out of the flat.
"Blasted Weasleys," Draco cursed, and proceeded to drown himself in scotch.
He said she could trust him. He was so sincere about it. She poured out her heart and soul to Tom, thinking he was her friend. He said he was.
He said he would always be there for her. That she didn't have to be alone anymore. That he would be everything she needed.
But he scared her.
She felt him reaching out to her — to her soul. She felt his cold breath inside her lungs, felt him breathe — live — through her.
She tried to make him go away. She felt betrayed. How could he do that to her, she wondered. He said he was her friend.
But he came back. No matter how hard she tried to push him away, he kept coming back. He called to her. She felt that a part of him had never left her, and the thought scared her. She was only 11. 11 year olds are supposed to be afraid of monsters under the bed, not inside themselves.
"Come with me," he told her. He promised to take her away from all of her troubles. From everyone. "It'll just be you and me," he promised.
And she accepted. She wanted to go away. She wanted to be with him. Because underneath it all, he had been her one true friend. She didn't want to lose his friendship.
But he had grown. He was stronger — strong enough to be real. "Come with me," he said again, but she was afraid. He wasn't the same person she knew. He had changed. She didn't like the new Tom.
"Come, Ginny," he said, his voice getting stern.
She tried to run, but he caught her. He took her away.
The chamber was cold, she remembered. She didn't know how long she had been in there, but it felt like a very long time.
He had done something to her — something bad. She couldn't move — she couldn't even feel herself breathing. But she could hear his thoughts. He could hear hers'. She knew she was alive. She knew she was there, without really being there at all.
He hadn't taken away her soul.
"Tom," she'd plead with him. "Tom — please!"
"Foolish child," he said had told her. "No one's going to come for you."
"NO!" she'd scream, but he would just laugh — a cold, unmerciful laugh that had no hint of compassion in it.
"You're all alone now, Ginny," he said. "You'll always be alone."
"No!" Ginny gasped, and shivered in Hermione's arms. Tears stained Ginny's pale face as Hermione squeezed her tightly. "No," Ginny breathed, suddenly relaxing and falling into Hermione's hug.
Minora's eyes widened to the size of plates, but Hermione remained calm. She rocked Ginny back and forth. Within no time, she had fallen back into a deep sleep.
Hermione held her tightly, fearing what would happen if she let Ginny go.
"Oh, Ginny," Hermione whispered, cradling her gently. "What's happening to you?"
Chapter Nine; Draco charms, Ginny blushes, Ron reveals, Hermione gasps, Dumbledore chuckles and Snape reflects.
Well this chapter wasn't very eventful, but at least it's something. Many thanks to those who reviewed! You all have no idea how happy you've made me! *-*
Kasumi: I love it when people see Draco differently too!
wolviesrogue: Awe, your words have really cheered me up. Draco's still a git, just not to Ginny (or not that much). I tried to make him be one in this chapter, and I hope I did okay. ^^; I'm also sorry that I haven't really explained on the whole Ginny/Harry thing, so I'll try and do that in the next chapter.
Robyn: Thank you! I'm thrilled you like it!
JuunanazGurl: Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to read your story yet — my life's getting a bit hectic right now, but I'll try and get to it soon, kay? ^^
Madussa: Hugs to you too! I hope the story doesn't get stale as it progresses. ^^;
Joya: My fellow Ferret — I'm sorry to say the leather pants won't be coming back for a while. But I hope the fic's satisfactory without it. XD
Angel7895: Er, I hope I answered your question. Sorry for being a bit vague about it though. ^^;
Also, in case anyone's bored or anything, please visit Open To Interpretation () - my highly opinionated Draco fansite for Draco lovers everywhere! I promise not to waste your time (or I'll try not to). ^^;