Draco hadn't bothered with breakfast on this particular Saturday; he'd fallen asleep over the book of poetry he'd been reading. It normally would have been particularly interesting; it was by a Muggle author by the name of Walt Whitman. But due to the previous night's events, one could not blame him for being exhausted. It was nearly time for lunch, so he decided to go and see if Blaise was up (and maybe even see how the Mud-er, Green, was doing).

When he reached the Great Hall, he was relieved to see Blaise in her normal seat. He sauntered over to her, unaware of the many feminine stares he was attracting from the movement of his black silk shirt across his broad shoulders. Before he sat down, Blaise smiled at him, reassuringly. "She's okay," she said. Draco grunted and sat down. Before he even started eating, a shadow fell across him, and he looked up to see Hermione standing in front of the Slytherin table. The Great Hall was so quiet now, one could hear a pin drop.

"What do you want, Mud-blood?" Draco asked coldly. Hermione looked at him with fire in her eyes.

"I'm not here to talk to you, ferret, so shut up and leave me alone!" From across the room, at the Gryffindor table, Ron Weasley shouted, "That's my girl!" Everyone laughed, and the attention was taken from Hermione's unexpected visit to the Slytherin table.

"Blaise, if I could have a word with you...Well, one of the house elves said that Lorelai isn't feeling well, and I'd like to see her..." Hermione started. Draco's head whipped around.

"Surely you're not going to go!" A look of disbelief planted itself on his handsome face as Blaise wordlessly got up and then proceeded to follow Granger out into the hall. A glance backward told him everything he needed to know. Blaise was either going to tell the Mud-blood, or let her in to the Slytherin dormitories. Draco dropped his head onto his arms and groaned. Suddenly, something hit him in the head. "What?!?" he bellowed.

He felt something slide off of his head, and sat back up to see a rolled piece of parchment on the oak table. "Oh, it's the post. Well, uh, thanks, Wormwood," he offered a slight apology to his jet black eagle owl. He shoved a bit of toast in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully as he noticed that the parchment was the kind that teachers sent to students. "Ugh," he mumbled around his toast. "Yuck, Draco!" Pansy had just sat down next to him and was wiping crumbs off of her green long-sleeve silk shirt. He ignored her and unrolled the parchment.

"Mr. Malfoy,

I wanted you to know that I have decided upon Miss Greens detention, and it involves you. I can tell that even with your intelligence, you are going to have problems this year in Potions. Miss Green, however, is an exceptional Potions student..."

Draco read the rest of the notice and lost his appetite. Exasperated, he rhetorically inquired, "Could this day get any worse?" He stalked out of the Hall on his way to find Snape and complain about his involvement with Lorelai's punishment, but stopped short when he heard two voices laughing and coming down the hall.

"Sure, Harry, I'd love to hang out with you at the next Hogsmeade!" There was Lorelai, looking like last night never happened. She looked the same as usual, in her lavender baseball-style tee shirt, except that her hair was uncharacteristically pulled up high on her head, and her face was devoid of the sultry makeup he was used to seeing her in. There was no evidence that last night, she had been covered with scratches. Instead, there she was, her pretty face flushed, laughing with Potter, of all people.

"Well, alright then," Harry said, with a slight blush in his cheeks. "'Till next Saturday, then. Have a good day, Lorelai," He added for extra measure. They stopped, and for one horrifying moment, Draco froze, thinking that they might kiss. Instead, Potter awkwardly stuck out his hand, and Lorelai clasped it. Yeah, real smooth, Potter. You really know how to romance a lady! Draco thought, sarcastically. He watched Potter move to the Great Hall, and Lorelai stayed put. Draco wanted to turn and go, but she caught his eye first, and all of a sudden, his mouth went dry. He wet his lips and placed his usual smirk on his face.

"Not hungry?" He asked.

Lorelai couldn't believe that he was actually speaking to her. She was so tired this morning, she didn't bother fixing her hair and makeup, and when Hermione came in a few minutes before, she collapsed in her friend's lap and explained that she had had a hard night. Hermione was sympathetic, and told her that Harry wanted to speak with her. When she'd left the common room, Harry was waiting right outside. Hermione smiled knowingly and made up an excuse to go back to Gryffindor tower.

"Good morning, Harry," Lorelai began. She took in his boy-next- door appearance thoughtfully. His black hair was messy, as usual, but in an endearing way. He had green eyes, which, to any other girl (namely Ginny Weasley) would have been drooled over, but to Lorelai, they looked dull this morning.

She had spent the night dreaming about smoky grey eyes and strong, powerful arms.

Harry made small talk with her until they reached the Great Hall. He slowed them down, coming to a stop, and he suddenly got very fidgety. "Uh, Lorelai," he started, looking down at the ground. "Would you, uh, well, I know that it's not usual for Slytherin and Gryffindor to get along, but, uh, you're different." He smiled and blushed slightly. His boyish embarrassment was very endearing. Lorelai put her hand on his shoulder and her smile was full of encouragement.

"Go on, Harry," She said, her words full of patience.

"Well, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?" He finished quickly.

"Sure, Harry, I'd love to hang out with you at the next Hogsmeade!" Harry looked relieved.

"Well alright then. 'Till next Saturday, then!" Lorelai smiled graciously. "Have a good day, Lorelai!" He awkwardly stuck out his hand, and Lorelai grinned inside as she clasped it. Well, he must not be used to asking girls on dates! That was kind of lame, she began, but her other personality jumped in with It was sincere! It was sweet, really. Besides, it will be the perfect opportunity to keep an eye on him. She giggled aloud, then turned to go back to Slytherin, and she saw Draco. His smoky eyes bore into hers with intensity, then lightened, and the famous Malfoy smirk fell over his face. "Not hungry?" he asked.

Lorelai felt her face flush, and for some reason, she found herself speechless as she shook her head no.

"What? Potter got your tongue?" He asked facetiously. He watched in delight as her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Nope. Do you have to be so crude?" Draco raised his eyebrows as if to say, "What did you expect?"

"Well, Malfoy, if you'll excuse me, I need to go back to my room and do some homework, as I didn't get the opportunity last night." She tried to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm as she drew near and spun her around. She yelped in pain and looked up at him, and for a minute, he saw fear in her eyes. Well, who wouldn't be scared after what happened to her last night? He only increased pressure, causing her to cry out, and forced his anger through his eyes.

"What's with calling me Malfoy?"

"What are you talking about? You're called Malfoy all of the time. Look, you're hurting me. Will you let me go?" He lessened the pressure, his eyes never losing contact with her.

"You never call me Malfoy." He said this quietly.

"What? So?"

"So I thought we had an understanding. You called me by my name, I call you by yours. Isn't that how civilized people talk to one another?"

"Civilized, yes. That doesn't work for us!" Draco's face fell for a second, but he quickly regained control.

"I'm not civilized, Lorelai?" he began in an eerily quiet tone. "I'm not civilized? You forget that I took care of you while you were unconscious, and how do you repay that? You put a bloody memory charm on me!" His expression grew from sneering to serious. "Why don't you feel like you can trust me? I'm probably the only one you can trust in this hellhole," he sniffed. Lorelai looked up in surprise, then her usual fire consumed her expression.

"Did it ever occur to you that I do trust you, more than I should, especially considering your last name? I put that memory charm on you, yes, but not on Blaise! Did you think that that was by accident? I didn't want you to have to remember what I was looking like, and if you have to ask yourself why, you're daft."

"What? So you're judging me by my last name now? You prance around like you are above that. You don't think I could handle the memory of the mess that you were in? Well that charm didn't get to me in time to stop me from seeing Snape caressing your face as if he owned you! If I were uncivilized, I would have questioned that! In fact, I think I'm going to. What happened between you and Snape?" he asked cooly.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" She lied. "I guess, I don't know, he has some paternal thing going on...Draco! Please let go of me...you're seriously hurting me!"

"As if I should be concerned about that. I was concerned about you last night, and where did that get me? Nowhere. You can just keep your lies to yourself!" With that, he let her go in disgust. When he drew his hand back, he eyes widened when he saw that it was wet, covered with blood. Lorelai's blood. He looked at her arm, and sure enough, the material was soaked. Some of the scratches must not have healed. He watched as she cradled it with her other hand.

"Damn it, Draco, I meant that I'm the one who's not civilized!" She lowered her voice. "Did you know that I can kill you?" The volume rose steadily. "Do you understand that if I get angry enough, sometimes I can shoot a damned spell through my eyes? I'm a fucking FREAK, Draco!" She stopped, for a minute, fighting tears of frustration. "Yes, I lied. If that bothers you, I'm sorry. But you and Blaise are now the only two students who know that I'm not a Muggle-born, ok? If I didn't trust you with that, I would have put the charm on Blaise, so she wouldn't tell you! I-I just didn't want you to deal with the visual, ok?"

Draco tried to recover from shock, and it took a minute for him to do so. He surveyed her, clutching her arm, hair falling out of her ponytail, and her eyes bubbling with rage. But he noticed that the look in her eyes wasn't directed toward him. In fact, he was quite familiar with the emotions. The look in her eyes mirrored what he felt when he woke up in the morning; self-loathing.

He hated himself like he hated his father. But as horrible as Lucius was, Draco still wanted to please him. He hated lies; his father had done nothing but lie to him. And yet, Draco somehow knew that Lorelai wouldn't lie unless she had reason to...but still. His father's words came back to him.

"Don't ever fall in love, Draco. Tease them, bed them, beat them, whatever. Just don't become emotionally involved. Women are liars, and to love one is to be weak."

Draco did not grow up in a loving environment, but through the beatings and the contrasting teaching of etiquette, Draco both loved and hated his father. And if what Blaise said was true, Lucius had had something to do with this girl. If his father wanted her...no! I can't be that cruel! Draco argued. But his loyal side won out. He decided that he'd try to give his father what he wanted. He knew he had to act quickly, or there would be no information left to salvage.

In that moment, Draco Malfoy sold his soul.

"Look, Lorelai, I'm SORRY, and that's not something that I say often. It's hard for me to believe everything you're telling me. Now, your father is a wizard, correct?" Inwardly, his stomach churned, torn with what he was planning. She hasn't done anything to you except for embarrass you—can that justify giving her over to those who wish to- He cut off his conscience; it was too painful. He willed himself to become hard again. "Can you trust me enough to tell me who?" She looked confused. Draco tried to make himself appear sincere. He reached for her, and she recoiled, but relaxed quickly. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and drew her into his arms.

To his surprise, the sensation of her softness against his hard- muscled chest quickened his heart, and he rethought what he was about to do. She relaxed in his arms, and he suffered an inward groan.

"Lorelai, you can trust me," he murmured as he leaned down and brushed his lips against her hair, as if out of habit; in fact, the sweet gesture surprised him! Certainly, it was unnecessary. But still, she wouldn't speak. She stiffened as though she smelled something amiss. Then she slowly drew back her face from its resting spot in the crook where his neck met his shoulders. She searched his sincere expression, and without a warning, she took his hand and wordlessly led him down the hall. When they reached the shadows, she stopped, and turned to face him, her eyes wide and pleading. Draco in turn lowered his head to take advantage of the opportunity; who would have guessed that she'd be begging him to kiss her? Females were so easily moved by emotions, it was insane!

He got so close, he could feel her breath teasing his lips.

Suddenly he felt his head thump against the hard brick of the wall, and Lorelai seemed to grow to his level as she burned her gaze into his own. "Uh, what the hell?" But his mouth was covered with her hands.

"I don't believe you. I've been taught my whole life to trust my instincts, and right now, they're telling me not to trust you. So, spill. What evil, awful thing are you planning, Draco?" She spat.

"What do you think you're going to accomplish here?" he tried to be nonchalant about the fact that there was a small girl literally pinning him to the wall. She answered by pushing her arm up against his throat under his Adam's apple.

"You know what, Draco?" she sneered. Draco was impressed for a moment by that sneer, but that was squelched by her next words. "I thought that you needed a friend. I thought that I'd give you the benefit of the doubt. But let me tell you something! I will tutor you in Potions, as it's my punishment, but beyond that, don't touch me, don't look at me." She looked away for a second, then lowered his chin with his finger so their eyes could meet better. "Don't you see? Don't you understand that we're in the same boat, Draco? I tried to be nice, I even enjoy your company, more than I thought possible, because I don't make friends easily. But I don't appreciate that you're playing a game with me," she continued.

"Do you think I'm playing a game?" he mocked, though he was half-serious.

"I was born at night, not last night, Draco. I feel empty like you, and I used to take it out on everyone else. After a while, I held my hate to myself and turned it toward a goal, which shall remain unnamed. So, yes, I've played the manipulation game before, Draco, but I don't now, except for when my life is in danger."

"Smart girl," he mumbled.

"What did you want? To turn me over to your father?" His eyes flashed surprise at her apparent intuitiveness. "Draco, listen to me, I'm only going to tell you this one more time; I've told you many times by the way I've acted toward you. Your father is not half the man that you could be."

For a moment, his thoughts returned to his feeling on the first night of term; that she had seen his potential...and he felt violated. He snapped his head up, which was a bad idea, because he hit the back of his head again. He began to feel regret for what he had tried to do.

"What do you mean?" he asked, sincerely.

She looked at him in disgust. "What do I mean? Look. Don't play games with me. I believe that there's good in you, more than you want to let on. But until you're ready to hear the rest of it, I'm shutting my mouth on that subject. Draco," she pleaded, "you are so far above your father in potential," But he grabbed her and with superior strength turned her around, reversing their positions.

"You don't know anything! What the fuck do you have against my father, anyway? Your father is a fucking Death Eater, too, or did you think I wouldn't pick up on that?" He spat.

"Your first instinct in the common room was correct, Draco. You shouldn't underestimate me. I'm not naïve, as much as that disappoints you. Your father saw to that." She gazed meaning into his eyes, and he noticed that he could almost see actual clouds in her eyes. She pushed him away and ran toward Slytherin. How could she know what he had been thinking in the common room unless—

"FUCK!" He yelled, banging his fist against the wall.

"Yeah, well, that's life, I guess," he heard another hard voice, and watched as the petite, curvaceous figure of Ginny Weasley appeared from the shadows. Her face was tear-streaked, as usual, he noted. He grabbed her.

"How much of that did you hear, Virginia?" he asked. She looked up at him in shock that he used her Christian name, but noticed that his eyes were as cold as always.

"Enough," she replied vaguely, lifting her chin, proud. Her spunk surprised him. His eyes drank in her figure. She's not bad- looking, he decided.

"What were you crying about?" he asked, finding in surprise that he didn't have to fake curiosity.

"What do you care?" she asked defiantly, though in truth, she was delighted that someone cared about her situation. He just raised an eyebrow.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he teased, having no intention of doing so. It just seemed natural to throw away pretense with someone else who was hurting. He was surprised that he found it easy to respond to her. She cocked an eyebrow warily.

"Oh, who cares anyway? Who are you going to tell?" She smoothed her second-hand robe out. "It's Harry," she said, ashamed.

"You're still on after that git?" he was astonished, but he didn't try to hide his revulsion.

"What? He may be oblivious, but he's not that bad!" Draco stared pointedly at her. "Well, he's not!" She defended. "It's just that, well, we were getting on extremely well, you know, talking and divulging deep thoughts to one another, really connecting, and then,"

"And then he asked Lorelai to Hogsmeade?" Draco finished for her. She snapped to attention, surprised that he knew.

"Well, yes. I'm not mad at her, you know, she didn't know. And she has been a great friend to Harry and Hermione since she's been here. It just seemed that Harry and I were getting pretty close," she blushed. "Anyway, what's your problem today?" she finished.

Draco's ears perked up. He collected himself. "How close did you two get?" he asked.

"Well, he just kissed me," she started. "Several times." she finished.

"It seems like everyone is having trust issues," he replied. Ginny snorted. Draco shot her a look.

"What was that for?"

"Lorelai's not Pansy. She's not going to fall for your bullshit," Ginny stated. Draco looked taken aback by this pixie using that sort of language. "You're going to have to be sincere, and be her friend. But, I don't suppose you know how to be a friend, do you?" Draco feigned hurt, and wondered what he was doing, talking to a Weasley.

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" he said forcefully. "Because you're an asshole to the people you call your friends, well, except for Blaise," she added thoughtfully. "I think that Lorelai was trying to teach you how to be a friend, but then again, what do I know? I'm a Weasley, right, Malfoy?"

"What, Weasley, have you been watching me? Mayber your obsession with Potter is an act to hide what you really want."

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

"I'm surprised that you pine after Potter when you could have a real man. But then, you surely wouldn't know what one is, being raised by your good- for-nothing father"

"Fuck off, Malfoy." She had her wand out. "One more disgusting word in regard to my family, and you will find yourself without a head."

He eyed her once again, and noticed her little pink tongue dart across her lips. He felt a heat flush through his body. Damn Lorelai for getting me worked up! Oh well, if it would help him with his plan, he may as well go all out. But for some reason, he felt that his plan might be changing.

"Has anyone told you that you're attractive?" Malfoy went for it, changes his attitude to its usual state; exuding confidence.

Ginny blushed. "Are you mental? No, really, I think that you are absolutely nutters," she stated, incredulous. "You need to go to the infirmary, Malfoy. Really. You're sick in the head."

"You are," he reinforced, staring at her in a way that made Ginny flush in a way not unlike what she felt when she and Harry were in the middle of a good snog. Ginny sighed.

"Malfoy, what do you want?"

"Well, you have friends, right?" Ginny nodded. "Well, I think I need a crash course in how to be a friend. Can you do that?" She stared at him in disbelief, then lightened up.

"What's in it for me?" She asked. Draco was impressed with her initiative.

"We'll make Potter jealous," he stated simply. And maybe I'll get some information on Lorelai.

"Uh, Malfoy, thanks, but I'm not into playing games with people." Draco pursed his lips.

"What if," he started, moving in closer, "What if I just asked you to accompany me to Hogsmeade, and we see what happens from there."

Draco watched her face to see if she was buying it. Ginny was silent, then, without warning, she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked, slightly miffed. "Did you just ask me out on a date?" Ginny could barely get the words out. Draco just nodded. She could see that he wanted something else—she still didn't know why he was so out of character, or why it was so important for him to get Lorelai to trust him, but she thought she could get something out of it as well. What if she doesn't do it? Draco wondered. Well, there will always be another girl, he reasoned. He studied her. She was beautiful, for a Weasley. Almost as pretty as Lorelai. Come to think of it, the shape of their eyes were similar, as were their lips and color of their hair. Ginny grabbed his attention. The laughter ceased.

"Ok," she conceded. "But I have to insist on one thing."

Draco awaited her request.

a/n: I know that Draco may seem a little OOC in this chapter, especially with Ginny, but you know what? A Malfoy would go to any means possible to get what he wants. What exactly does he have planned? And what does Ginny want? Or does she simply want to know what it's like to hang out with the resident bad guy? It seems she's not as innocent as we all would like to think she is... please review