"Giiiiinnnny….Giiiinnnny….GINNY!"

Ginny jumped as her dorm mate shook her awake. "Wha?"

"Ginny you're going to miss breakfast."

"Put the lime in the coconut…"

Saline laughed. "What?"

"…and pass it all around… No, no, to the left!" Ginny mumbled urgently as she bolted up. "What!"

"Gin, you slept in, you're going to miss breakfast."

"Bloody hell." Ginny groaned. "How am I supposed to drag myself out of bed?"

"Maybe you should stop waltzing around the school at nothing o'clock?" Saline suggested.

Ginny pushed the covers off her person, the warmth suddenly evaporating from her skin. She then proceeded to literally pull herself out of bed until she tumbled off the edge and landed on her side. "Help me up?"

Saline smiled and pulled Ginny up by her wrists.

"What time is it?" Ginny answered her own question by glancing at the clock. 8:52. Breakfast was going to be over in eight minutes. "I can't shower, dress and make myself up and run down to the Great Hall in eight minutes!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Seven." Saline corrected her as the clock hand ticked another minute.

"Damn." Ginny cursed under her breath.

"Wash out your mouth while you're in the shower." Saline scolded. "And thank Merlin for such a great friend that would bring you breakfast in bed, even if it's not their responsibility." Saline nodded her head to the pile of toast on the table next to Ginny's bed.

"Thanks, Saline."

"I got to get to class."

Ginny groaned. Six minutes. This will be a new record.


He was sitting on the window ledge of their dormitory. He had already showered and dressed. He had started to gel his hair back, decided against it, and spiked it instead. Lucius hated it when he spiked his hair. To him it looked wicked awesome, exactly the way a rock star would. To his father it looked punkish, and punkish was unprofessional, not to mention unconventional. That was the difference between them. Lucius was old-fashioned. Draco was fresh. In spite of that, however, he was an exact carbon-copy of his father and he hated it.

He didn't have a big problem with his father. He was, after all, Voldemort's right hand man, so Draco understood why his father wasn't around to teach him a lot before he went off to school. He still wished he could have spent more time with his father, before he was locked away.

He held a letter in his hands now. His eagle-owl delivered mail from his father before breakfast, as to not draw too much unwanted attention. It was a very smart bird. Draco still hadn't figured out how his father sent him these letters. He had figured that any communication with the outside world was strictly forbidden in Azkaban. His father had found a way, though. He always did.

'Draco--

I hope this letter finds you well. While I would like to put in more details, I must be brief.

You must waste no more money on my bribery out of here. The attempts are futile, and I shall be out soon anyhow. Do not write back questioning my judgment, nor my capability of escaping. All that needs to be said is that our Dark Lord will soon put things into motion, Draco, and I don't want you caught up in the wrong end of this.

Stop this foolishness, this amateur group you call a band with the other Slytherins. It is time to set your priorities straight, and focus on the bigger picture. The Dark Lord is very pleased with the acceptance of your service. Once I am out a date will be set, and you will join the victorious ranks.

I am very proud of you, son, for making the right decision. Though I know I've put pressure on you before, I know that this decision comes from your own free will.

You will be a fitting Death Eater, Draco. You are after all, my son.

-Lucius- '

His own free will. Draco didn't know if such a think existed anymore. He really didn't have a problem with becoming a Death Eater, but he also wasn't that eager either. He had mixed feelings towards the thought of it, and regarded the whole subject as tedious and inconsequential.

He dropped from the window into the room and quietly walked over to the mirror. As he stared into his reflection Draco realized that it wasn't him that he was watching, but his father. The grey eyes held malice and deviousness, and as he searched them he found no remorse, and no guilt. His hair, had it been longer, would have been exactly like his father's. He held the pointy facial features of Lucius as well: the pointed chin, the sharp cheekbones. He hardly had a mouth, save the line that usually held stance in a smirk. He realized fearfully that he might be exactly as his father; and while Draco respected him, he wanted his own identity.

He saw then, with relief, one thing that didn't belong to his father. His mother's nose. Draco allowed himself a small smile as he thought of his mother before he had left for school that summer.

She was frantic, worried. She didn't want anything to happen while he was in school, and she was trying to find any excuse for him to stay home. She wasn't used to not having Lucius around.

Ironic. Draco had thought. One would think she'd be used to it by now.

He promised his mother he would write many times a week, keeping her fully updated on everything that went on, important or not. It was four weeks into the year, and Draco had written twice. Once to tell her that he had arrived safely, and thanking her for the package of sweets she had sent him, another to inform her that he was, so far, excelling in every class.

She hadn't written back.

Draco sighed and that thought and decided to go to the practice room before breakfast. He wanted to finish the lyrics to his latest song, and he felt particularly inspired that morning.

He grabbed his favorite cloak, black silk with a silver trim, and headed out.

It was 5:18.


Ginny plopped down at the table and immediately began to pile scrambled eggs onto a plate. She ate heartily, making small chat with the girls around her, but something about the previous night plagued her mind.

Malfoy in a band…a band! Ginny allowed herself another small snigger. She glanced over to the Slytherin table; Malfoy was just sitting down. She turned away with a mile-wide grin on her face; a feature that quickly disappeared when she viewed the boy in front of her.

Harry Potter sat, pushing the food around his plate, a grim look on his face. It was the usual day. His face was usually grim ever since…

"Harry…" Hermione sighed quietly as she occupied the vacant seat next to Ginny. "You need to eat."

Harry mumbled something that sounded similar to: "Not really hungry." gathered his books and walked away.

Ron sighed. "It's been weeks…"

"It's been all summer." A deep voice growled behind them. The three jumped.

"Oh, hullo professor." Ron greeted.

Mad-Eye Moody tipped his hat to Ron in response. "That boy needs to snap out of it. He's been letting his notes slip, not paying attention in classes, not even trying in mine…not that the boy has to."

"You have to give him time to mourn." Ginny practically scolded her professor. "Sirius was the only family that treated him like family he had."

"Mourning is fine, but he's not been quite the same…" Moody lingered off. A silence ensued. "Well, best prepare for class. Bat-Bogey Hexes today, Miss Weasley."

Ginny, Ron and Hermione bid their teacher farewell as he limped away.

"I can't believe he took the job." Hermione muttered.

"I can't believe they gave it to the old coot."

Ginny turned around in her seat. "Well I don't believe anyone cares what you think, Malfoy. Hmm…." Ginny surveyed Malfoy up and down with a disappointed look on her face.

"What?" He sneered. "I know I'm not bad to look at Weasley, but I do have other places to be today…"

"Just thinking…it's a pity you aren't in my class…bat-bogies today."

Ginny reflected Malfoy's own smirk, which happened to falter, sneer, and utter the words, "Good thing you have that talent naturally…there's no way you would be able to buy some."

"Yes, yes, we all know, Malfoy, my family is poor. Big. Friggin. Deal."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and walked away.

"Stupid git." The three uttered simultaneously.


Ginny had just finished Defense Against the Dark Arts and was on her way down to the dungeon when Ernie Macmillan stopped her.

"Oh, Ginny!"

"Mm hmm?" She turned to him.

"You're on Prefect duties tonight." Ernie started to back away.

"With who?"

Another step back. "Umm…oh who was it tonight?" Another step.

"….Ernie…?" Ginny was becoming suspicious. "Who am I with?"

"Weeelll…tonight-due-to-some-circumstances-and-with-Ron-and-Hermione-going-like-every-other-week-and-some-people-not-going-at-all-I-figured,-well-no-I-guess-I-had-to-put-you-with-Malfoy-tonight,-later-Ginny!" Ernie muttered the words so fast Ginny wasn't sure she had understood anything except for the words Ron, Hermione and….Malfoy.

Ginny turned. "ERNIE!" The Hufflepuff had long since gone.


Ginny stalked to Potions in an angry blaze. As she got closer to the dungeons she noticed a group of Gryffindors walking past her. And Slytherins. Sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Ginny sighed. Might as well get it over with…

She spotted a mop of blonde hair through a crowed of students and made her way over. "Malfoy."

The students parted. Malfoy scowled. "What do you want, Weaslette?"

"We're patrolling tonight."

Malfoy nearly snorted at her casualty. "I don't think so." He began to turn away.

"Hey!" she called to him, angrily walking up to him and slamming him against the nearest wall. It was easy, even with her size against his, he was unprepared.

"Everyone else has to go all the time, damn it all, you aren't going to get out of it just because your some high and mighty Slytherin. I don't make the schedule and I'm not any happier about it then you are, but we're Prefects. It's our job. You're going to suck it up and shut up, or so help me Merlin I swear—"

"—Is there a problem here?" a cool voice questioned behind her. Ginny cursed under her breath and, keeping her grip on Malfoy's robes, turned to the professor behind her.

"No sir, not at all. Malfoy and I were just discussing our Prefect duties tonight." Ginny put on a fake smile.

Snape smirked knowingly. "I know I'm growing older, Miss Weasley, and my hearing just might not be what it used to, but I do believe I was about to hear you utter a threat to one of my students?"

"A threat, sir? How do you suppose?"

"Detention, Weasley. One hour of it, tonight directly after supper. Now I suggest you enter the classroom before you're counted tardy."

Ginny held her glare until she had turned away from Snape. Malfoy held a smug, triumphant smile, and many of his friends were snickering at her foul up. She pushed him away from her as she turned walked to the classroom.

Snape was writing on the board, and just as she crossed the threshold she heard him announce, "Late, Weasley. Fifteen points from Gryffindor."


Okay so…there you have it….and…yeah…umm next chappie: Of Long Walks and Blackmail. Review!