Incendio

Chapter I: A Memory of a Time

FireSprite

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note:Background information: Ginny is in her 6th year, while Draco and company are in their 7th year. So, today I rewrote the Prologue and Chapter One. I hope I can keep this pace up when rewriting all 8 chapters and then be able to update more frequently. I want to thank all the loyal fans that had been asking when I'd be updating this series. There are two answers to that question! Well, it's now updated, but not in the way you'd hope. However, I am going to remove some plot lines, get rid of some minor characters. Basically, things that were distracting me from the real story, so I can hopefully move past this hopelessness I seem to have created with this story and finish it!

-

Ginny looked down and realized, to her horror, that her short night-gown was wet, and it clung to her as though it was painted on. She shivered as the wind blew around her, causing her to be pushed slightly, pushed in the direction of a quiet glow coming from within the forest. Her eyes widened; she had never seen a light before in the forest. This was a new twist to her dream. She didn't like it. With a cautious look behind her, she tucked a stray stand of her hair behind her ear, noticing dimly that her hair wasn't at all wet, like the rest of her. She walked quietly towards the light.

When she was no more than twenty feet from the light, she stopped, and hid behind a large oak tree, so large that it seemed to go on forever into the night sky. Peering around the tree, she looked towards the direction the light was coming from. It was a clearing, and Ginny gasped at what she saw.

In the middle of the pool of light, created by the giant trees breaking, was a baby unicorn, grazing on the forest floor peacefully. Ginny caught her breath, staring in amazement as it calmly raised its head and looked straight at her with big, unblinking eyes. It was if it could see right into her soul. She swallowed nervously, but gradually her body relaxed. The unicorn almost seemed to recognize her and it neighed impatiently, pawing its front hooves on the ground almost like it was waiting for her to approach it. It took a moment before Ginny gathered the courage to quietly slip out from behind the tree and walk into the light, towards the unicorn.

She stalled, though, just in front of it, wondering what to do. However, the unicorn walked right up to her and nuzzled her hand, which cause a smile to flit onto Ginny's face. The skin was so very soft, and as Ginny ran her hand delicately over the baby's neck and back, she felt as though her fingers were dancing on pure silk. Suddenly, something heavy fell into the hand Ginny had been using to pet the underside of its neck, and she almost dropped it. Curiously, she bent her head down to look at it, when the unicorn started, letting off a loud neigh, before turning around and running straight out of the clearing and into the dense forest. Ginny froze immediately and began listening. Nothing normal could have scared of the unicorn like that. She quickly slipped whatever was in her hand into her night-gown pocket, and looked around cautiously, trying to make out the details of the forest, of the trees.

Faintly, she could hear the rustling of leaves breaking under footsteps and the sounds of twigs being snapped. She turned around, eyes wide, watching the same place where she had come from with a trembling bottom lip. There was a muffled sound and the white haired angel fell out of the brush. Except the angel held no wings, and there was no smile upon his face. Ginny took a step back and watched with baited breath, wondering what was going on. This was nothing like her other dream.

Draco stood up and upon looking at her he stopped walking completely. His eyes locked with hers, and a pensive look formed on his face as he took in her appearance. They stared at each other for almost two full minutes before suddenly, the forest faded, as did Draco from Ginny's eyes.

-

"Ginny," Ron said, looking up at her as she slipped between Dean and Harry at breakfast the next mornig, "You look tired." Ginny only nodded silently, as she took a piece of toast and picked it apart on her plate, which cause Harry, Ron and Hermione to shoot each other glances.

"You feeling OK, Gin?" Hermione tried.

Ginny shook her head, and sighed. "I just had a bad nights sleep, you know?" This statement caused further looks from the table. "And no, it's not the type of dreams you're thinking of." Ron's face relaxed a little, but he still looked worried.

Ginny raised a piece of the toast to eye-level and was eyeing it with much disturst, when giggles forced her to take a quick look at the entrance. Draco Malfoy had just walked in, which is why the giggles had erupted from the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. He shot the Hufflepuff table his trademark smirk, causing more giggles to emerge.

"Excuse me," Ginny said, quickly, standing up so fast she almost hit Dean right in the jaw with her elbow. "I don't feel well," she mumbled as she practically ran out of the Hall.

"Do you get the feeling she's not telling you something?" Ron asked the other three, with eyebrows raised.

"I'll go find her," Dean said, getting up and dropping his fork on his plate, "She couldn't have gone far," he added.

"Thanks, Dean," Ron said quietly, watching Dean leave the Great Hall. "She's been acting weirdly the last two weeks," he said in a low voice, leaning in close so that others wouldn't hear. "I'm worried about her… I think something's bothering her. I just hope it's nothing like last time…" Ron made a grimace, and Harry nodded. They both remembered the last time Ginny had been acting weird and talking of troubled sleep. Both Harry and Ron turned to look at Hermione.

"What?" She asked, then after a pause, "Oh, so you think that I know what's wrong with her…" She said, looking a little upset. "Ginny and I may be friends, but she doesn't tell me things. At least, not things like this."

"Harry… You know how Ginny used to fancy you," Ron said, desperately, "May-"

"Ron," Harry cut in, "First off: Ginny isn't even close to fancying me anymore! Secondly: Even if she was did still have feelings for me, I wouldn't use that to manipulate her," His emerald eyes had become dark, and he glared at Ron, while leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Fine! Fine," Ron said, throwing up his arms, "I guess I'm just being too brotherly, it's just… With You-Know-Who back… I'd feel safer, you know, I'd just-" He stopped to run his hand through his hair and stare at his plate, sighing deeply

"I wouldn't worry, Ron," Hermione said soothingly, reaching across the table to smooth his unruly hair down. "It's probably just a cold or something. She'll get some Pepper-Up Potion and be fine. You'll see," she added, sounding so confident that Ron smiled.

But, inside, Hermione was furiously thinking. Something had triggered Ginny's sudden disappearance and she wondered if it had anything to do with the appearance of a certain blonde.

-

Dean was right – Ginny wasn't far. She was actually just a corridor away from the Gryffindor common room. She was sitting in the window seat, back against the wall, knees drawn up, looking out the window, with a troubled expression on her face.

"Gin?" He tried, feeling shut out. Ginny was one of his best friends, ever since they had dated two years ago. While the relationship hadn't lasted long, the friendship had and it had taken on a life of its own. Together, they were troublemakers, secret-sharers, advice-givers, and Dean could hardly imagine Ginny not being in his life. She was his very own support system, she knew exactly what to say to him with every up and down, and the subtle change he had been noticing over the past few weeks had him worried. It seemed as if she had been retreating into her own shell, opting to stay in her dorm rather than go down into the common or even onto the grounds, and it was more apparent with every passing night. Getting no answer from Ginny, he kneeled down besides her and gently touched her arm, trying to reach her.

She jerked away from his as though burned when he touched her, her head snapping around to see who it was. She was breathing heavily as if having flown to the top of Mount Everest and back within a few minutes and Dean could see the drops of tears pushing their way to the front of her eyes. She shrunk away from him.

"Please don't," she whispered, as she scrambled to get to her feet.

"Gin, I just want to help-" he started.

"Please don't!" Ginny said in a very strained voice. It was as if she were about to fall apart at the seams and all she couldn't move. She pleaded with him. "You – you wouldn't understand. No one does," she said, before closing her eyes as if she had a headache. "Just…." She whispered, before opening her eyes, "I can take care of myself," she looked at him with big, round eyes. "Please."

Dean looked at her for a moment, before sighing and nodding. "It's your secret to keep, Ginny. But I'll be here if you need me."

"Thank you, Dean," Ginny said quietly, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before she walked down the hall, disappearing around the turn.

-

Ginny was tired. She felt like she had been running all day, long and hard. Running away from anyone and everyone. Her heart had pounded in her chest as she had ran up and down stairs, running in the opposite direction of noise, even if that meant going around in circles. Her chest had tightened as it had slowly needed air, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. Now, legs aching, she sat on the cool tile floor, her forehead resting against the cold wood.

She couldn't tell Dean and she didn't know why. On one hand, he was her best friend in the world. She had always told him everything, everything and anything. But on the other hand, Ginny was getting this feeling that he wasn't supposed to know, for some special reason. It was something she felt now, something important was telling her to stop sharing her feelings and thoughts with him, as though he was bad, almost a traitor… toxic. Yet, he had never done anything to hurt her in any way. Nevertheless, she listened to whatever it was in her head that was telling her this. So she had run, run to the one place she knew no one wouldn't even dream to look for her: Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

This bathroom was the one place she feared to tread now, because of the incident that had happened to her in her first year. Everyone in her year now knew, and even those who didn't know didn't like coming to this bathroom anyway. She would be safe here.

Ginny shivered and got up off the floor, where she had been sitting and walked to the mirror to look at herself. She saw a tired young woman, someone who was lost. As she leaned in closer, she felt something chink the china of the sink, something down by her hip. Looking down, she noticed that there was something in the pocket on her robe that she hadn't noticed before. She reached her hand into it, and drew out a green emerald stone hanging on a soft chain of gold. She caught her breath, as she held it up to the dim light in the bathroom. Peering hard at it, she looked at it with her head cocked to one side. It was definitely one of the more exquisite things Ginny had ever seen and touched.

Reaching up with her other hand, she touched the emerald softly as it hung there, gently swaying with the unsteadiness of her hand. As she caressed it delicately, it began to glow green. The colour reflected in Ginny's eyes as she continued to gaze upon its beauty, bringing it inches from her face. It shone, and then in the very depths of the emerald mist began to swirl, slowly sucking the green out of the jewel, rendering it completely white, whilst the mist continued to swirl. A picture began to form, slowly; as though tuning itself like you would to a WWN radio. It was blurry at first, before it became clearer and clearer still. Ginny now realized what she was looking at: It was a projection of a sword. A most particular sword, with a gold handle, and the blade itself a deep colour of blood red. It looked extremely strong, as though cutting through anything in the world, anything, would be easy, and as it hovered in mid-air inside the forecast it slowly revolved and twirled until it spun faster, and faster still. It spun and spun, going so fast it too soon became a blur and Ginny could see no more of its detail. And then…. It disappeared, in a cloud of white smoke, and the smoke turned green again, slowly filling out into the jewel, until it looked exactly as it had been before.

Ginny held the stone at arms length, looking at it. She had never seen something so odd in her life, it was as if it were enchanted, knowing exactly when to portray its deepest secret and Ginny bit her lip, not quite sure what to do with the stone itself. She looked at it again, through the corners of her eyes, before turning to the mirror again and staring into her reflection. Making a quick, perhaps foolish, decision, she undid the clasp on the chain, and gathered her hair up with one hand, before effectively pinning the pendant around her neck. She let her hair fall down, and she leaned forward to see to see how it looked upon her pale skin. She let a hand graze over it in the mirror, and smiled happily.

It looked ethereal on her milky white skin. Like it had always been there, like it was supposed to be there. And slowly, she noticed a slight change in her face. Her eyebrows became more defined, her skin smoothed and her lips became redder. Again she smiled: she looked so heavenly she couldn't help it. Was this really herself in the mirror? She wondered, as she continued to gaze upon her reflection. She noticed that her hair was growing slowly, to end at her waist, and she became to get a bit worried. Looking down at the jewel, she saw it was glowing. Confused, she looked into the mirror; the emerald wasn't glowing in her reflection. Scared, she clasped the stone, ready to tear it off, yet she stopped, because she needed to look one last time in the mirror and then screamed when she saw Draco staring back at her.

-

Draco paced in a circle in the dorm he shared with the other 7th year boys. He ran his hand through his hair and swore under his breath. How the hell did this happen? he asked himself. Why was Ginny Weasley always in his dreams, never leaving him in peace? Her brown eyes were always there, looking at him, seeing right through him, as though she could tell exactly what he was thinking. It scared him… and excited him a bit, as much as he hated to admit it. Remembering those eyes, he suppressed a shiver. He wanted to see them wanton with lust, lust for him and him alone. He wanted her lips on his body, everywhere on his body, but especially on the part that reacted most when she looked at him with those damn eyes. He wanted her so bad he felt like a crazed man: someone shown what could be and what will be. Someone forced to know that whatever they do, it will never turn out how it could be, but always what it will be. Telling himself to relax, to forget her, he walked over to his bed, laying down on it, putting his hands behind his head and staring out the window.

Yet, he couldn't stop thinking of her. Instead of giving up, he decided that perhaps if he just solved what was going on, those eyes would leave him alone. And they had to. Already, this little obsession of his had gone too far. He couldn't stop thinking of her. And if his father ever suspected, ever found out, well… There would be hell to pay.

Something was changing as well. The dream the night before had been different from the earlier ones. They hadn't ever changed before; yet, last night, it was different, and he swore that it was actually Ginny in that one, instead of whatever vixen was pretending to be her. It had been the way she seemed so surprised to see him there, as if he had no right. It had been the way her night-gown had moulded itself to her body; so wondrously moulding itself, hugging every single curve, the way it had looked so real. So damn real. And it had been those eyes, the smoking brown eyes. No dream could have ever made him react that way, no dream had ever had. Not even in Veela-dreams had he been that aroused. Aroused by a Weasley, he thought, Gods, if my father found out about that…

Sighing, he got up off the bed. He was too restless to sleep or lie down now. He paced again, wondering what he should do. Running a hand through his immaculate hair, he considered his options. Act like nothing was wrong? Tell someone? Talk to that Weasley?

He shook his head. It just wouldn't work. If he continued acting normally, the dreams would drive him insane. He wouldn't be able to think of anything else until he was satisfied. He couldn't tell any one – at least not anyone in Slytherin; you could never trust those bastards. And he didn't have any friends outside of his house. That only left…

Talking to Ginny.

Swearing again in how many minutes, he strode to the dresser, and rested his hands on its smooth edges, leaning heavily upon them, wondering what to do. He hated the situation he found himself in. He wasn't in control and Draco did not like not being in control. He loathed it.

Looking up though, he looked in the mirror, and saw Ginny Weasley looking right back at him. Startled, Draco backed up for a second, staring at the mirror in wonder. Was Dark magic doing this? he wondered. It was possible. Anything was possible in Slytherin, he reminded himself.

He came closer to the mirror, deciding that it couldn't kill him, even if it did try. Nothing could kill Draco Malfoy. Even so, he cautiously approached the mirror and held up his hand up to its surface, and felt relief when it touched the hard surface of glass. So cool. So smooth. So flawless in its beauty and perfection. He looked up, and saw Ginny screamed and back away, eyes wide. She, too, didn't know what was going on.

Then, it slowly dawned on him. This wasn't Ginny. This couldn't be Ginny. Her hair was longer than he remembered, her face… It was somehow different. It was… perfect, perfect just like the glass, he realized hurriedly. But they were the same eyes. They had to be. He watched as she seemingly looked at him, as if trying to decide if he was real or not. She gave him a look, as though to say, Don't you dare tell anyone, and stepped forward hesitantly, before putting her hand up to the glass too.

Draco felt her warm skin press against his.

Eyes flew to each other's – Ginny's wide, Draco's surprised. Their eyes locked, and he felt that she was feeling the same way he was: Frightened; yet exhilarated. She was looking scared – scared but flushed. Her cheeks were red, not an uncomfortable red, but a sexual blush, lighting up her eyes, her whole composure. Draco felt her skin against his. It was smooth and warm, soft. Just like he had imagined it. He imaged that she was just as soft elsewhere, and his immediately felt a slight twinge of guilt – it was as if he was undressing her with his eyes.

Suddenly, Ginny jumped and her hand fell away. She turned and spoke to someone, before nodding. Quickly, she grabbed her wand, which had been lying on the sink's surface, giving Draco a look he couldn't decipher and ran from the room.

And Draco was looking upon himself.

-

Hermione looked at Ginny, an eyebrow arched. Ginny could tell that she was thinking – she recognized that calculating look that she got whenever she was faced with a problem. Slowly, Ginny exhaled as she followed Hermione down the hall. She wondered how long her brother's best friend had been standing there. Had she seen Draco? she wondered silently; scared to know the answer. She wanted to tell Hermione more than anything. Yet, Ginny thought, shaking her head, she'll tell someone, and I don't even know what this is yet. I want to know what this is first. I need to figure this out on my own.

Ginny looked down, towards her feet, feeling the need to hide when she noticed that the gem was still hanging around her neck, swinging slightly against her chest as she walked. With a look around, she tucked the pendant down under her shirt, holding it in her fist underneath the material for a moment.

Hermione had stopped walking, having reached an empty classroom. She motioned for Ginny to enter the classroom and Ginny did quickly, quietly, sitting on the table the moment she entered and clasping her hands together before resting them on her lap. She looked at Hermione, hoping to be a picture of innocence.

"So…" Hermione said, her fingers dancing across the plains of the wood table. "You seem to be…" She gave Ginny a sharp look, before continuing. "You seem to be hiding something. Care to explain?" She asked, getting straight to the point, something Ginny was glad for. The quicker Ginny lied, that quicker she'd be out of there.

"Hiding something?" Ginny asked, feigning ignorance. It wasn't hard, having learned all she could from the masters: her twin brothers Fred and George. "Where in the world did you get that? I just haven't been feeling well lately."

Hermione looked at her, trying to tell whether she was bluffing or not. Finally… "You can tell me anything, you know. I won't go running off to Ron or Harry, you do understand? I didn't tell them when I first found out about you and Dean," she said, quietly, the words carrying well over the quiet of the room. Somewhere off in the distance, a bell rang. It was dinnertime. Both girls looked at each other.

"There's nothing to tell," Ginny said, softly. "I just haven't been feeling well." Hermione frowned, but nodded.

"All right. I'm holding that to you," She said, smiling slight, if not worriedly. "Just know that I will always be here for you, okay?"

"I know." Ginny slipped off the table, and onto the floor. "Thanks."

And with that, the two girls walked towards the Great Hall. Yet, in their hearts, they both knew that things were definitely not all right.

-

Dinner was pretty quiet, for the most part. The Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins girls all giggled when Draco entered, yet again. Dean and Seamus were flirting with all the girls at the Gryffindor table – even the first years, though Dean stopped when Ginny entered and sent her an inquiring look. She just smiled at him and shook her head. Ron got in a huge row with Harry about Quidditch teams, which ended when Hermione both silenced them with a silencing spell. They were now trying desperately to talk, opening their mouths and trying to yell. Hermione pretended to ignore them, her book propped up against the pumpkin juice, making annoyed sounds every once in a while as the boys kept tapping people on the shoulders, trying to get them to undo the spell. It was useless – for the most, the Gryffindors were enjoying the peace and quiet, and they weren't about to give it up.

Ginny was sitting towards the end, a few seats down from where Harry and Ron struggled uselessly. Dean came over and sat next to her. They were having a light, unobtrusive conversation – neither one of them mentioning what had happened early, as though following some sort of written rule. They were talking about the next Hogsmeade weekend when something happened. Something that no one had ever seen, in the whole seven years they had been at Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy stood up and walked over to the Gryffindor table, coming to stand right behind Ginny. He had his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and he rolled on the ball of his feet as he waited for Ginny to notice. He looked the epitome of cool and calmness. Finally when Dean had stopped looking at Ginny and was now glaring at something behind her, she noticed him when she turned around to see what Dean was glaring at.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She asked, glaring at him, trying in vain to remember every single thing he had done to her to make her hate him. She came up blank and cursed inwardly.

"We need to talk, Weasel," he said, as though Weasel was her name and not just some sort of name-calling.

"Why would I even bother giving you the score in the Quidditch game, never mind talking to you?" she said, coldly. A few seats over, Ron gave a muffled noise as he finally noticed Draco talking to his sister. Pointing his wand, he showed Harry, who was giving him a weird look, what he was trying to say.

"You know why," Draco said, saying nothing more.

"Hunh?" Dean said. "Gin, what does he mean?" Ginny ignored him and continued looking at Draco with cool, calculating eyes.

"Fine. Five minutes, that's all you get!" She said, starting to stand up.

"Knew you'd see it my way" Draco said, smirking slightly, causing Ginny to stop getting up. She glared at him for a moment.

"Don't push your luck, Malfoy!" she threatened. Suddenly, she heard a muffled sound and turned around to see Ron falling over his chair in an attempt to get out of it. He scurried up off the floor, and along with Harry they ran over to Draco.

Ron tried to say something, but the charm was still in place. Draco stood, amused, the smirk presiding over his features as he watched Ron try to yell.

"What's the matter, Weasley?" He asked, mockingly, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Mudblood got your tongue?" Ron paled for a moment, before lunging at Draco, Harry right behind him, who was quickly pulling out his wand.

"Ron! Stop!" Ginny cried, horrified, as the two boys fell to the floor, arms flying, legs tangling, fists punching. Quickly, she bent down and grabbed Ron by the arm, trying to pull him off. She didn't have the strength though. She ended up being thrown to the ground as Ron shoved her off. She fell on her hand wrong, and immediately she knew something was wrong as pain shot in streaks up her arm. Looking down at it, she gave a small moan when she saw that the hand was hanging limply and at an odd angle. When she tried frantically to move it, it wouldn't. The pain was worsening now, as red-hot streaks flew up her arm and her eyes began to water. She knew exactly from the feeling what had happened, having broke her ankle two years ago. "Bloody hell, Ron!" she cried, "You broke my wrist!"

The boys stopped fighting immediately. Harry and Ron looked at her, and slowly stood up. Ginny got up with the help of Hermione, who had run over when she saw Ginny fall. Hermione quickly undid the charm having realized the fight was her fault. Ron stared forward.

"Gin, listen, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking – " he started to say.

"That much is obvious!" Ginny interrupted, clinging her arm to her body. "Shove it! I don't want to hear it now, all right? I'm going to the hospital wing."

"I'll take you!" Ron said, quickly, coming over.

"No!" Ginny snapped. "You done enough damage trying to help. I'll take myself. I'll be fine. Just leave me alone!" And with that, Ginny left the Great Hall, which was already quickly beginning to buzz with gossip and news after having gone silent to watch the fight. Harry, Ron and Hermione stared after her; none of them realizing until it was too late that Draco had also disappeared

-

Ginny was lying in the hospital wing. It was dark, the night having descended upon the sky hours before, casting dark shadows in and around castle. Ginny couldn't sleep, so instead, she contented herself with watching the stars through the window, watching the moon shine, and the clouds swirl around the night sky. It was so peaceful – totally opposite of what she was feeling right now.

She was angry at her brother, at Draco, at Hermione, at the whole bloody world. Yet… She was sad, lonely. Terribly lonely. Even when Ron had come to visit her with Harry and Hermione, had she felt alone in the hospital ward. She yearned for something, she realized, something she couldn't have, nor had. Something… But, she didn't know what.

Shaking her head, Ginny got up out of bed. If Madam Pomfrey found her, she'd be in trouble for being out of bed, but she couldn't stay so restless. Even though she was completely healed, she still had to wear a brace on her wrist in case she broke the already tender bone and stay the night, upon Madam Pomfrey's insistence, and much to Ginny's annoyance.

Walking to the window, she tugged at the sachet, trying to open the pane of glass to allow some fresh air in. Suddenly, a sense filled the air, drifting in and around her and she stopped tugging at the window. She knew that smell… But from where? Then it hit her: it smelled like the forest in her dreams.

Spinning around, she saw Draco standing in the doorway, looking calm and collected. He simply looked her over.

"What are you doing here!" she whispered, lest she wake Madam Pomfrey. Draco smirked.

"Did you know that when you stand in the moonlight like that, I can see through your night-gown and see your knickers?" he asked, amused. Ginny stared at him, shocked. She quickly moved away from the window, and glared at him.

"You… You pervert!" She hissed, and wrapped a blanket around herself – just to make sure. Draco chuckled, pleased at riling her up. "Get out!" Ginny hissed again.

Draco sobered immediately and looked at her, stonily.

"A Weasley does not tell a Malfoy to get out!" he spat, and walked quickly over to her. Ginny backed up against the wall, her blanket dropping out of her fumbling hands. She almost tripped over it before her back hit against the wall. Draco walked right up to her, and looked down at her as she looked up at him, eyes wide with fear. Malfoys, she knew, had horrid tempers. His eyes looked her up and down, as if assessing her. "Pity," he finally spoke. "If you weren't a Weasley, I'd ravish you right now."

Ginny couldn't believe he was so forward, so vile. She jutted her chin out and looked at him defiantly. "What makes you think I'd want you even touching me, anyway, Malfoy?" she asked him, making her voice sound as though she were incredibly disgusted. A smirk graced his lips again.

"Oh," he said, "I think you would." Ginny glared at him and went to slap him, but he grabbed her hand in time. "Ah, ah, ah," he taunted. "That isn't a wise decision." He stepped closer to her, making her back up more into the wall. "Scared?" his voice was one of amusement.

"Afraid you'll touch me with your dirty hands!" Ginny shot back, wrenching her unbroken hand out of his grasp.

"If I were to touch you Weasley, you'd tremble under my touch." He spoke so evenly, so confidant, that Ginny burst out laughing. His eyes narrowed. "You don't think you would?" He asked, harshly. "I have talents that you are not aware of." His only response was more laughter from Ginny.

Furious, he pushed himself against her, pinning her to the wall. Immediately, the laughter stopped. Draco lowered his face to hers, and for one fleeting moment, Ginny thought he was going to kiss her. But he simply traced her bottom lip with his index finger, his eyes intent on them, as she looked up at him. Then with a tap on her nose, he let her go. She looked at him, confused.

"What the bloody hell was that?" she demanded. Draco shrugged, his hands now in the pockets of his trousers; again an image of indifference.

"That is not what I came here for." He turned back to her bed and sat down on it. Ginny decided against sitting on her bed as well, as stayed as she was, up against the wall.

"Well?" she asked, irritably.

"Are you always so impatient?" he demanded. Ginny just glared. "Fine, fine. We need to talk. And you know why." He looked at her, but she wouldn't look at him. She seemed tense, he noticed. Her shoulders were hunched up and she stared at the wall, her lips a thin line.

Finally, she looked at him. "You're not a dream walker, are you?" she asked.

-

Author's Notes #2: Please be patient as I try to rewrite the rest of the story as fast as I can. Hopefully it won't take too long. As always, read and review! Almost all of the reviews are a collection from the various chapters, so some may spoil what is ahead of you if you are new to this series.