Disclaimer: Just the usual. I disclaim.

A/N This is actually not as short as my stuff usually is (small cheer for me). Thank you dracademented, you made me wake up and write some more. Just you reviewing makes me want to write the story even quicker; even if it is just you reviewing  You are worth 2 million reviews in my opinion. This chapter doesn't really lead the story anywhere, but it does set things up for the next chapter. Enjoy and, as always, please review.

A Strange Encounter

Ginny began to feel the world outside herself. She sighed, and tried to open her eyes. However, they were heavy, and seemed to be stuck together. After a few more attempts, she opened then and saw that she had fallen in the snow

"Ssssoryyy pettttttt, butttt I couldn'tttt haveeee youuu seeinggg mee," A soft voice spoke.

Before she could make out who it was, they, or it, was gone. Struggling to get on her feet, she bumped into, of all people, Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Malfoy."

Instead of answering her, he just rushed by in a flurry of robes.

"Git," She muttered under her breath.

Draco had just gotten a letter from his father, saying that urgent business was waiting for him. As he ran out the door, he bumped into the Weasel. She muttered out a lousy attempt at a insult, but ignoring her, he ran past her. After he passed the door, he found the port key that his father had smuggled in for him, and immediately arrived in a warm building. There was a long hall, covered in paintings and with soft green carpet on the floor. At the end of the hall, there was a door, the only door. Opening it quickly, he walked into a room with a desk. His father was sitting there, looking very smug.

"Why hello Draco, my son," he practically spat.

"Why hello father," Draco said, practically leaking sarcasm.

"There is a very important business of our dearest Lord Voldermort. To make your initiation accurate, you have to perform a task. The task Our Lord has assigned you is to find out the plan of that oaf that runs your school. We must have it, Draco. If you fail you shall be promptly denounced from this family. Loyalty is hard to get, and Lord Voldermort does not give it to many."

"Yes father," Draco practically hissed.

"That is all. You may leave."

Once Draco came back to Hogwarts, he began to think. To do this would be very difficult, but he could do it. He would just have to have the help of one fiery redhead.

Ginny sat in the kitchen. Having been caught outside in the cold and staying there for many minutes unconscious, she definitely needed some hot chocolate. Going to the painting and tickling the pear, she had asked one of the house elves for it, and they had instantly scrambled up to get it.

She had thanked them and sat down, trying to rest her tired head in between her arms. Realizing that she would not get any rest like this, she sighed and proceeded up to her common room. She reached the painting, but forgot the password. Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, she leaned backwards against the cold grey stone and waited for someone to get back.

She felt something. It was not exactly something, more like someone, moving with grace and precision. But creeping, and that was the important thing. She waited for it to get closer, then turned quickly around and kicked for whatever body part she saw first. Her feet, however, were quickly caught in a gloved hand. A black gloved hand.

Her charcoal warm eyes, deceiving at first, moved slowly upwards to take in the surroundings. Creeping by that robe of black silk, on to the top of the shirt still peeping from it, green. A Slytherin she thought to herself. And finally the face. The porcelain, pale, aristocratic face with the slightly upturned nose and no freckles to be seen, the face that had been her constant torment of so many years, the face that was now looking at her with those cold grey eyes that were blank but swirled and mesmerizing.

"Weasley."

A simple statement really, but so cold and piercing it shattered her heart to the core. Ginevra delicately removed her foot and placed it back on the ground. She decided to get this over with as quickly as possible, since she hated the effect he seemed to have upon her. She had already suffered much, she did not need this cold – blooded Malfoy descending like a vulture upon her.

"What do you need Malfoy?" she calmly said, but adding a tone of utter disgust to her words."

"I need to speak with you."

"Why would you want to speak to the "filthy muggle lover like me", Malfoy?"

Draco looked her over coldly. He tried to look behind her mask, since he always was able to. Except now, it seemed. This both perplexed and puzzled him. Had she mastered the art of masking? Shaking his head slightly to clear his head, he looked her over again. She was not the most revolting girl in school.

She was not slim, but was not pudgy either. She seemed to have many muscles in her arms, and she seemed to have a good enough taste in clothes, even with the little money that she had. She started to tap her pointed foot. Slightly startled but not showing any sign of it, he looked up again and saw her waiting for an answer.

"Stop wasting my time Weasley. Either come talk with me, or get out of the way."

Seeing as she did not answer, he quickly walked away before she could even ask him to wait. He did not need to ruin his reputation just to talk to her. He did not need to dirty the Malfoy name. Remembering that the she enjoyed the small strawberry patch that she had grown, or tended to, he began to hatch a plan. A plan that couldn't go wrong.