Draco's mind was still reeling when he walked past Professor Hurst's classroom.

"Draco, could I see you for a minute?" asked Professor Hurst, known as Mabel to her students and friends. She had stepped out of her classroom and had seen him hurrying by.

Draco nodded and followed her into the classroom, not bothering to wonder why she wanted to see him. Probably about his homework or something. He slid into his usual desk by the window, still thinking about what had just happened. He was so angry with himself.

Why did he have to grow a stupid conscience all of a sudden? Why did he have to be so selfish, anyway? Why did Ginny want him when he obviously had nothing to give her?

He didn't notice when Mabel crossed the classroom toward the door.

He didn't notice when she locked said door.

He didn't notice either when she stood right in front of him, hands on hips, until she cleared her throat loudly.

"Mister Malfoy, is everything all right?" she asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Uh - "

"Did you know, I had a very distressed relative come in here a few weeks ago. And do you know why she was distressed?"

Draco was completely mystified. Mabel was certainly known to be a little off-the-wall sometimes, but at other times she was pretty much off-the-planet.

She answered for him. "It was all over you, pretty boy." She took the seat across from him. "And things haven't improved much, I'd say. By the way, you've got lip gloss on your cheek."

Draco rubbed his face furiously with his hand, still very puzzled. He grasped onto the one thing he hoped he understood. "Ginny's your relative?"

"Yeppers."

"What, cousin?"

"She's really a rather distant cousin. Something like ninety-one places apart on the family tree, maybe. We tried to map it out once but we ran out of parchment." She shrugged. "Anyway, I've noticed that both you and Ginny dearest have been acting really pathetically in the past few weeks and I wanted to know what I can do to help." She nearly laughed aloud at his confused expression with a vague flicker of panic. "I'm not stupid, you know. I know what happened."

"Y-you do?"

"Of course, it was obvious. Well - I also asked her, and she told me some. But really, anything I can do to help?"

Draco decided to just accept the facts Mabel had chucked at him, shocking though they may have been. "Um, no. It's really all my fault, if you must know."

"Really." Mabel's interest was suddenly piqued.

Draco raised his eyes from the desk to her face, looking a little wary. "Yes, really."

Mabel stared at him for a few seconds, trying to grasp his thinking. She failed, mostly due to Draco's usual stony-faced countenance. "Okay, and why is it your fault?"

Draco leaned back in his chair and exhaled exasperatedly. Why was she asking him these questions? "Because I was stupid and selfish and she deserves better. Doesn't matter now, it's over for good so you can stop prying."

Mabel was not put off by his rude remarks. "Draco Malfoy, stop beating yourself up. She does not deserve better because there is no one better. What is 'better' anyway? I'd've thought Harry was 'better' but look how that turned out. Honestly, don't go beating yourself down over her. Just go with the flow and take things that are given to you. You know? Maybe it's a rare opportunity you've been granted."

Draco gaped at her. Who was this woman? Who did she think she was? Some kind of Oracle? A walking fortune cookie? An 8-ball with legs? "You have no idea how things are between us. You can't just tell me what to do," he said vehemently, resenting her attempt at helping him.

"I'm not 'telling you what to do'," said Mabel patiently. "I am merely, as an academic authority and relative of Ginny, offering you really good advice which you'd better take or else I'm failing you."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Mabel waved her wand at her classroom door. It popped open invitingly. Draco shot her a look of loathing and left quickly.

Even as she got together her notes for tomorrow's lecture, Mabel was thinking hard. She knew she was pretty much responsible for Ginny breaking up with Draco, but in retrospect, the advice she'd given Ginny was rash, cynical, and far too sensible for anybody's good. There was no use in life going around being sensible all the time. More often than not the world seemed to defy sensibility; why should this be any different?

Having achieved a degree in psychology from a Muggle school, she'd been psychoanalyzing Draco lately. She couldn't help herself; he was a complete mystery, and she had a penchant for solving puzzles. Then it all dawned on her when he described himself as being "selfish" and not worthy of Ginny. Despite his general bad-itude around Hogwarts, he had rather low self-esteem, most likely due to his home life. He had dug himself into a pit by being mean to his fellow students - he felt bad about being the bully, but unloaded his personal anxiety by being the bully. And now it had all come crashing down on him when he realized himself. And at that moment, Ginny had come into the picture.

It wasn't just a quest for love with Ginny. It was a quest to find himself.

- - - - - - - -

Ginny had slipped out of the boys' bathroom after carefully making sure the hallway was mostly empty. However, she failed to look above her and when she exited the bathroom . . . she paid for it.

"Ginevra Weasley!" said Peeves in a loud, high-pitched voice. "In a boys' bathroom? Who would have known! I shall have to speak to Professor Dumbledore about this! Might be a danger in the girls' dorms, you pervy little transvestite you!"

"Peeves!" Ginny shrieked, mortified. She glanced left and right, but luckily the only people staring were little first-years and a slouchy seventh-year she didn't know. She looked back up at Peeves again, who was staring innocently at her, batting his eyelashes. "I have to leave now," she informed him sternly. She began walking quickly towards the common room but heard him breathing as he trailed her.

"So soon? I thought we'd have a nice little talk about, say, preferences and things of that rather tender nature - "

"Peeves, stop it." She tried to double back the way she came in hopes of losing him. She wished desperately that he'd stop it because she was afraid she might combust if he went any further.

"I shan't. Say, whatever happened to that 'pickled toad' song? I quite liked that one. Hmm, does Harry know your little secret?"

"Peeves, stop it." She whirled around again, deciding to go back the way of the common room. Her temper was reaching boiling point and that, combined with her emotional state, would not be a very pretty thing when she exploded.

"If he doesn't, he sure will now. Oy, everyone! Ginny Weasley is a - hey, where did she go?"

Ginny had spied a familiar-looking door and immediately opened it and dove inside, slamming it behind her. Phew. Just in the nick of time. She could hear Peeves mumbling bemusedly to himself as he floated away. Where was she, anyway?

"Ohh," she said to herself as she looked around. It was the Room of Requirement. She blinked, thinking. Yes, she'd walked three times past it. Well, now was as good a time as any to take a breather, and this place was -

"Perfect!" she squealed to herself, spying an entire buffet of comfort food. Cool, smooth ice cream in her favorite flavor, Cookies 'n' Cream. Pretty-looking truffles on little doilies. Towers of tantalizing Oreos. Bins of sugar-coated Fruit Pastilles.

She settled into an overstuffed couch with a large bowl of ice cream. She gazed around the room at what it had determined to be the things she needed at the moment. Comfort food, squashy couches, nice dim lighting, shelves of poetry books, soft music in the background. It was paradise to Ginny, who needed a private place to sort out her thoughts. This she did while shoveling spoonfuls of Cookies 'n' Cream into her mouth.

So, what did Draco mean by saying he was "selfish"? She knew he probably was, being one of the resident jerks at Hogwarts. Well, so everyone thought, unless they were one of the few and privileged allowed to see him being friendly. But what did being selfish have to do with the way things were between them?

She sighed wistfully. What could she ever have expected from Draco Malfoy? He was a hormone-driven teenage boy. A couple kisses could never change him, no matter how sorry she felt for him. Isabelle had hit the target dead-on - she had fixer-upper syndrome.

Or was she just trying to justify her actions? Maybe she really did like him. After all, how sorry can you feel for a guy who called you Weasel and who did stupid things like dress up as a Dementor in a Gryffindor match in his third year, trying to scare Harry?

She honestly could not understand him. Then again, she could barely understand herself. She scraped the bottom of her bowl, the ice cream already demolished. She gave a soft sigh, set the bowl on the floor and curled up in a fetal position on the sofa chair. It was so comfortable . . . A little nap couldn't hurt, could it?

She had one last jolting thought before going to sleep. Does it really matter WHY I want him? Maybe I should just take a risk and do it. The last thing she saw before her eyes fluttered shut was a poster on the wall that read "Don't Worry! Be Happy!" in large block letters over what looked like a few fish in a conga line.

- - - - - - - -

Ginny dreamed that it was Christmastime. She untied the ribbon around a large box and gasped when Draco popped out of it, smiling.

"What are you doing here?"

"Merry Christmas!"

"Draco, why are you my present?"

"Merry Christmas!"

"Look, I don't think that - "

"Merry Christmas!"

"Draco - "

"Merry Christmas!"

Ginny suddenly woke up with a start, feeling slightly annoyed. Why did she have Christmas trees on the mind? . . . She rubbed her forehead, trying to recall her dream, but all she could think about was Christmas and trees and gifts.

I do wish it were Christmas, though, she thought to herself as she carefully placed a few dozen Oreos into her bag for later consumption. Then I could be at home, safe from all this chaos over here. I could finally have a break from thinking so darn much.

She glanced at the wall clock and saw with dismay that it was three in the morning. She couldn't very well make her way back to the common room - what if she was caught? She'd lose even more house points. But she was sure Isabelle would be frantic with worry by now. She probably had the entire house out looking for her.

Well, even if that were the case, Ginny didn't dare show her face in the halls at three in the morning. Mrs. Norris would probably latch herself onto Ginny's face if she caught her, and Ginny would have to do detention giving Peeves bubble baths or something equally nauseating.

No, she'd spend the night here. Tomorrow was Saturday, anyway. So she was fine in the homework area.

Hey, tomorrow is the Quidditch match. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Ginny no longer played Quidditch; she almost tried out for Chaser but chickened out at the last minute. There were other players who were better than she was, anyway.

She drifted off into a comatose state on the couch, clutching a few Oreos in her hand.

- - - - - - - -

The next day at eight in the morning, Isabelle was scanning the Great Hall relentlessly, searching for her friend's face. She hadn't returned to the common room - should she have told a teacher, or was Ginny perhaps with Draco?

"Hi, Iz," said a tired voice from behind her.

Isabelle whipped around and let out a shriek. "Gin! Where have you been?!"

"Shh, shh," said Ginny, clapping a hand over her friend's mouth and sliding onto a seat next to her. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I spent the night in the Room of Requirement."

" . . . With?"

"Wha - ? No one, Isabelle! Just me. I fell asleep in there by accident. It's a long story. I can tell you later."

" . . . Well?"

"Well, what?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes dramatically. "How did it go with - you know, in the bathroom yesterday? When I ever-so-kindly locked you two in?"

Ginny's face darkened noticeably. "We pretty much broke off whatever we had. For good."

"But why?"

"Because I felt it was wrong, and he said something about how he was selfish, or something. I don't know. It's better this way, I think." Ginny poured herself a large bowl of Lucky Charms, then proceeded to only eat the crunchy marshmallow bits. She commanded herself to concentrate on finding all the red balloons rather than look around the Great Hall for a certain blonde boy.

Angelina suddenly materialized at her elbow. "Ginevra Weasley."

"Why is everyone calling me that lately?" Ginny said, exasperated. "I hate my full name. It's Gin or Ginny, and that's - Angelina, what's wrong?"

"Where. Is. Harry."

"I don't know."

"Isn't he your boyfriend?"

"We broke up. Look, wherever Cho is, that's where Harry is." She and Angelina automatically began to search the Ravenclaw table for any sign of Cho.

"Not seeing her," said Angelina finally. "Look, Gin, the match is in a half hour."

"What if Harry doesn't turn up by then?" Ginny asked, worried.

Angelina cocked an eyebrow. "We'll either have to forfeit or . . . Are you up to being Seeker?"

Ginny choked on a marshmallow. "What?"

Isabelle looked interested. "Seeker? Gin, you weren't so bad at it last year."

"But - "

Angelina was nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, and you can borrow one of the school brooms."

"But I - "

Isabelle grinned. "Harry would probably be too busy staring at Cho during the match to fly properly anyway."

"But I don't - "

"Good, meet us in the changing room in fifteen minutes if Harry doesn't show up." Angelina walked briskly away from them, leaving Ginny spluttering.

"Seeker!" she cried. "I'm horrible. I haven't flown in ages. Good Lord, what did you two get me into? I can't do this!" She frantically rummaged around in her cereal, trying to find shooting stars. "I'm going to die unless Harry shows up. Hey, Isabelle, I'm going to go look for him, okay?"

Ginny stood up and left the Great Hall, leaving Isabelle staring at Ginny's bowl. It was still full of cereal, but all the marshmallows had been picked out.

"Well, that's a great breakfast for an athlete," she cracked to no one in particular.

- - - - - - - -

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny was on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the changing room. She was dressed in Harry's robes, which were about a foot too long for her. Everyone had expressed gratitude that she had decided to show up. Ron looked surprised and worried, but he seemed all right with her playing.

"Gin, you'll do fine," said Angelina comfortingly.

"I'm beating up Harry when I find him. But hey, Gin, maybe our family games will pay off today!" said Ron brightly.

"Yes, just look for shiny things, all right?" said Doug calmly. He was a Beater. "And catch the Snitch before Malfoy does. Not much to it, really."

Ginny's breath caught in her throat. She would be playing against Draco! Oh, Lord, she really didn't feel like doing this AT ALL.

"Guys," she said in a high voice, "I don't think I can do this - "

A third year named Giles McGiles clapped her on the shoulder. He looked quite encouraging despite a heavy unibrow. "You can do this. Quidditch talent runs rampant in the Weasley family; you'll be fine."

Angelina nodded curtly. "Just do your thing. All right, team, we're going to run through those plays that we covered last practice! Red Devil and Six-Salmons-in-a-Pie-Tin! Don't forget the Gorgon fake we added in the Heidelburg split! No blagging this time, McGiles, I mean it! And Ron, watch your flacking! We don't want a repeat of the Hufflepuff game, do we?"

"No!" shouted the team as one, except for Ginny, who felt completely lost.

"What do I . . . What's that Salmon play?" she mumbled to Ron as he shrugged on his robe. She felt a distinct sort of tingling and queasiness that usually only came on right before the Potions final exam. What was she doing here??

"Don't worry about it, just do your thing," said Ron unhelpfully. "I'm glad Angelina picked you for Seeker in Harry's place. To be honest, he seemed in a right state last practice. Kept flying off toward the castle. I think he's pining for you, personally, but listen, don't worry about anything. Just go with the flow."

He smiled in a brotherly fashion, then grabbed her upper arm and dragged her out on the field with him.

"Players, mount your brooms!" Madame Hooch yelled above the roaring crowd.

Ginny shakily swung a leg over the borrowed Nimbus 2001, gulping down the bile that threatened to erupt. Time seemed to slow down. She looked frantically around the stadium at the hundreds of students gathered to watch them. She glanced at the Gryffindor area and knew she was going to fail them. She looked forward again, waiting for Hooch's whistle. Her heart being palpitating when she saw Draco's very confused eyes glinting at her. Her sweaty hands slipped on the broom handle and she tried to control her suddenly ragged breathing -

Madame Hooch raised the silver whistle to her mouth and the entire stadium seemed to shudder with a sharp intake of breath.

Time sped up again. The whistle blew and Ginny pushed off the ground, still in a dazed state. How was she ever going to survive this?

- - - - - - - -

A/N: Whoo, rather quick update if I say so myself! Honestly, though? I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen in the match. Any ideas would be fabuloso.

By the way, I went back and revised the first nine chapters. I cut down on the mushiness a little and put in a bit more angst. I'm fairly satisfied with the chapters now . . . I can read them without having to clap my hand over my mouth and make a mad dash for the toilet.

Replies to my Beautimous & Beloved Reviewers:

Storymind: Don't worry, the angst will soon be resolved. (I'm thinking that when it is, the story will end. I don't really want to carry this out longer than 20 chapters.) But don't despair about Draco! He's just, as Mabel puts it, "beating himself up" because he's a hottie with a conscience. Anyway, say hi to the monkeys for me.

Newbie3: Ahh, someone caught on to me! Yeah, I sort of knew they were wrong, but they wouldn't have made sense the real way. I semi-changed the story so that Ginny said that it was "kind of" a Spice Girls song. Thanks for pointing that out.

Echo256: Thanks. Here's the chapter you couldn't wait for. ;)

Mereschino: Of COURSE there's a happy ending. I hate sad endings. They make me want to (shakes fist) the author! So yes, they'll somehow end up together because if they don't I'll get (shakes fist).

Kate: Yes, they will get together soon. Somehow. Some way.

Daphne-Enchanted: I'm trying to get Ginny and Draco to "go with the flow" and "don't worry, be happy". (I sound like they're not even my characters in the story . . . Well, technically they're JK Rowling's.) Ginny will eventually grab Draco and run, or vice versa. ;)

Blah: Thanks mucho! I'm glad you find it funny. :P I think everyone secretly does the eyebrow thing, even if they deny it. I find myself doing it even when I'm reading my own story. Sigh.

Alatariel97: Everybody likes Draco! Wheee! Yes, and hopefully I won't get writer's block for the Quidditch match.

Creativewritter: I know, I know, all authors love handing out cliffhangers. I can't stand them either in other peoples' stories. I think I'll bring out Nice Draco soon, sometime during the match perhaps? We all love Heroic Draco. Hmm.

Thanks all for reviewing! You all made my week.

Just a warning, though - I'll be out of town until about August 10, so probably no updates 'til after that. This story will be in the back of my head, though, so hopefully I'll get some good ideas!

3

Toastsnatcher