Author's Note: Last chapter for a while. Perhaps for a week or so. I was hoping to get this story finished before I go back to school in 3 days, but that's not too likely. So if you're crazy enough to be interested in this story, please have a little patience. And sorry. I'll try to keep up with about a chapter a week (I may only be able to upload and write on weekends, so if I have homework, it may not happen). Um...yeah, from the title...this chapter has a fight scene between Ron and Ginny, but it's brief and not too violent. Please, read and ejoy. Thanks... from Fields.

Disclaimer: See last fifteen chapters.

Dancing Life

Chapter 16: Sibling Rift

Blaise woke early the next morning, on Boxing Day. So he was surprised to find that Heather was already gone. He smirked to himself. Wasn't it usually the guys who left the girls asleep in bed? Perhaps that only applied if they'd actually slept together…

He slid from the bed, shivering slightly as he pulled on a thick woolen robe and a shirt.

He walked quietly from the room, tip-toeing through the hall to the kitchen. Heather was sitting there, on the counter, one leg pulled up to her chest as she watched Skye fixing breakfast.

"What on earth is that?" Blaise asked, surprising both witches as he entered the room. Skye was stirring a bowl of dark brown goo vigorously. She glanced up for a second.

"Hiya Blaise." She said cheerfully. "You're up early." She commented dryly. Blaise rarely woke before ten unless he had to. It was a bout seven now.

"Yeah. What are you making?" he asked, dipping a finger in the slimy substance. He peered at it suspiciously.

"Chocolate cake batter." She chirped, stirring again.

Blaise's eyebrow shot straight up in surprise. "For breakfast?" He asked, incredulously. Skye shrugged. "Why not?"

Heather glanced at Blaise, as amused as he was. "Why not?" she echoed.

Blaise shrugged.

A loud FWAP! startled them all. Skye jumped, nearly dropping the bowl of cake mix. "Ouch." Heather commented listlessly, staring out the window over the sink.

Blaise followed her gaze. Smashed flat against the window in a flurry of feathers was a large, impressive barn owl, a letter tied around it's leg. Blaise jumped up, heading for the window.

"I know that owl! That's Draco's owl." Heather and Skye glanced up interestedly as Blaise opened the window, the bird flopping heavily into the sink. "S'alright Medea." Blaise said soothingly, petting the bird distractedly as he removed the envelope from the bird's leg.

Heather leapt down from the counter, coming to look over Blaise's shoulder as he opened the letter, which was addressed to the both of them. "Is that from Draco? What's he want? I swear, if he asks me one more time what to do with Ginny, I'll send him a curse by owl post." Heather laughed, rolling her eyes.

Blaise unfolded the letter and began to read it as the large owl stood and flew wobbly from the room, dipping and swaying occasionally.

Blaise tensed and turned away, nearly crumpling the letter he'd been reading. "We're going." He said.

Heather blinked and Skye splattered cake mix on the wall in shock. "What?" Both witches asked at the same time.

Blaise merely handed the letter to Heather and went off to his room to begin packing as Skye hastily wiped cake mix from the wall.

Heather glanced down at the parchment in hers hands, written in Draco's tall, spidery handwriting.

Zabini (and Rambinski),

I'm writing to you on Christmas Day. I'm afraid something had come up, concerning Weasley. While I cannot tell you exactly what had happened, sufficed to say it is overwhelming and unbelievable. And in no good way, I'm afraid. Prepare yourselves for shock when you come back. I hope it will be soon, or else you may find out about this sordid little affair in a most unpleasant way. I would prefer if I (or someone else close to you) told you what had happened but it all depends on when you get back. If, by chance, you cannot make it back to school before the holidays are out, keep your eyes and ears open for news from the wizarding world regarding the Weasley girl and myself. Until then, take care of yourselves,

Malfoy.

Heather shoved the letter into Skye's expecting hands and rushed after Blaise. She pushed the door to his room open. His trunk was on the bed and he was carefully folding his clothes and packing them into his leather-bound trunk.

"Blaise?" Heather asked hesitantly, entering the room.

He glanced up as she came closer to him. "What are you doing? She asked softly.

"Packing." He said simply, continuing to place things in his trunk.

"Blaise, please. Be reasonable; how would we get there, when would we be able to leave, and why would we leave in the first place?"

He shook his head, finished with his packing, and sat down on the bed. "Listen, I know this has been great fun and all, but Skye's been talking about having to get back to Hogwarts, and Janet was thinking of going with her for a while, and staying at Hogsemeade anyway, so…if there is something wrong at Hogwarts with Draco and Ginny, why not just go on ahead?"

Heather cocked her head to the side. "Really? But when are we leaving?"

"Now."

"How? How are we going to get there?" Heather asked, now sitting down on the bed next to Blaise.

"I have money. We'll go by train. There's a train leaving this afternoon. We can be back to Hogwarts by tonight."

Heather bit her lip, her head tilted to the side. Blaise's harsh expression softened.

"D'you think Ginny's alright?"

Blaise smiled, wrapping an arm around the tiny girl's shoulders. "I'm sure she's fine. Draco would have said something otherwise, right?"

Heather gave him a weak smile. "Right."

"Come on; let's go get you packed."

Draco woke up under the strange impression that he hadn't actually ever fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered, right before falling asleep (or whatever he'd done) was a voice. A soft voice; a voice he knew. It was Ginny's voice. "I do love you Draco Malfoy."

Draco mustered the will to open his eyes. His dreams were so lovely. Full of 'happily ever afters' and visions of a life possible only in dreams; a life with Ginny, away from his father, and Voldemort, away from everyone else. Just Ginny. That was all he needed.

He opened his eyes, and for a second, could fool himself into believing that he was living his dreams. Ginny was asleep, lying half next to him, apparently sitting in a chair beside his bed. He looked down. Their hands lay clasped between them, her head against his arm.

He glanced around. He was in the hospital wing, he remembered. Meaning today was…Boxing Day. He looked over at Ginny again. She had stayed with him. All night, too; the sun was breaking through the tall windows in the hospital wing.

He took the moment to just watch her, to be able to actually look at her without her asking what he was looking at.

Looking down at her, he realized just how striking she was. Not gorgeous or beautiful, but actually quite pretty, in her own arresting way. She would never be a great beauty, at least not to anyone besides him, but she was remarkable.

Her eyes were closed, which was a pity, because they were so captivating; large with so much emotion and life. But even asleep, without her most impressive features visible, she was still so…amazing. Her nose was a little longer than most people's; it seemed to be a Weasley trait, most likely from her father. Draco grimaced, and the action surprised him. He hadn't exactly come to terms with everything that came along with Ginny, but still, he was shocked at how venomous his feelings were towards a man he'd never really met. He'd caught himself doing it before, thinking about her mother, the dumpy old cow that she was. Again, he couldn't believe what he was thinking.

He glanced down at her again as her lips parted in sleep. Those lips had to be her mothers; there was no way Arnold, or Arthur, whatever – Weasley had those lips. They were too full and…feminine. And her hair. That seemed to come from both parents, but it just didn't look the same on them. Everything about her suited, better than it could on anyone else.

He loved how it was dark, dark red at the roots, and gradually became lighter as it grew out, coming to a soft, feathery orange-red at the tips. It was somewhat like his own hair; at the roots his hair was rather dark, but it quickly became very, very light. Almost ethereally light. That came from his parents, as Ginny's did from hers. Both his parents had light, light hair. He hated how much he was like his parents.

He didn't want Ginny to think of his as his father, who he deeply resembled. He wanted her to think of him as a separate person.

Unconsciously he reached out and smoothed back her hair.

Those big brown eyes opened. Draco could only stare. He'd never seen her just as she woke, and consequently, had never seen her look so close to beautiful. Her eyes were astoundingly soft, a mixture of cocoa and specks of amber. Her eyelashes settled low, leaving little of her eyes to be seen, heavy with sleep.

"Draco?" she yawned, sitting up and stretching. "You awake?" she asked sleepily, rubbing at her eyes. Somehow, he managed to nod dumbly. Ginny, though half-asleep, caught his look. "What?" she asked suspiciously.

"What? Oh…uh…nothing." Draco managed. Ginny shot him an amused glance, stretching her arms above her head wearily. Draco heard her back crack.

"Ow." Ginny muttered unfeelingly. She tilted her head to the side, her neck cracking several times. "Ow." She said again. "Remind me never to do that again."

Draco snapped up, realizing that she was talking. "What?"

Ginny turned her head the other way. Crack. Crack. Crack.

"Fall asleep in that position. Damned uncomfortable." She murmured, yawning sleepily. "So, how are you feeling?" She moaned, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Fine." Draco said, and it was true. He felt great. His headache was gone, and so was the dull pain in his neck he hadn't noticed until it was gone.

"Good." Ginny yawned again. "Because I have to get back to Gryffindor soon; my brother will kill me for not coming back last night. Actually," she tilted her head to the side, cracking it again "-ow-, he'll probably kill me for leaving in the first place. And if he finds out I was with you…" she winced. "…there probably won't be enough pieces of me left for you to mourn over." She grinned.

Draco smiled down at her.

Ginny froze, her mouth opening in shock. That was it! That was the look she'd been waiting for! The loving one. She blinked several times in succession, making sure she was seeing it right. It was there, alright, she could see it in his eyes, glittering in their silvery depths. It was still behind a wall of protection, but she could see it; that wall was deteriorating. She was tearing it apart.

It was Draco's turn to arch an eyebrow. "What did I do now?" he groaned.

Ginny blinked several times again. "Nothing. Nothing, I…er…" she searched for something, her face flushing.

Draco cupped her chin with his finger, tilting it up to face him.

"What?" He demanded.

Ginny couldn't believe that she could still see that look. It was for her, that look was. For her and only her.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Draco's. She felt his surprise, but it lasted for only a second. He quickly tightened his arms around her neck, pulling her closer.

It was much like their first really passionate kiss out in the snow not too long ago. Fiery and searing with heat and fervor. Ginny sighed, the breath tracing his tongue and lips.

With much effort, Draco pulled away. Staring down at Ginny, half-lidded and beautiful in his eyes, he arched an eyebrow. "What is this for?" he asked, pressing his lips to the corner of her eye. Those large brown eye closed dreamily as he kissed her other eye.

"You. You care for me." She said, with the air of someone discovering something unbelievable.

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes, smiling. "No, really? Brilliant observation, Miss Weasley, and do tell me: when did you reach this astonishing conclusion?"

Ginny smiled up at him, opening her eyes again. "Just now. So I'm a little slow on the uptake." She shrugged. "Hey, I found out didn't I?"

Draco leaned in closer. "Yes you did." He whispered before covering her mouth with his again.

Ginny was rather detained in getting back to Gryffindor after that. She glided through the portrait hole as if in a dream, a ridiculously sappy smile on her face.

Though it wasn't there for long. Before she could even reach the stairs that led up to the girl's dormitories, someone stomped in front of her. She nearly ran straight into the person, who was tall, with red-hair, freckles, and her family's eyes, which right now were glaring viciously at her.

"Ginevra Teresa Weasley!" Ron hissed, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her off to an armchair by the fire. Harry was already sitting in an armchair, slumped back, looking tired and weary. Hermione was pacing back and forth in front of the fire, her cheeks bright with contained fury.

Ginny plopped down in the chair Ron had oh-so-delicately deposited her in. She glared up at him, too tired to actually try to get up again. "Don't use my full name, Ron. Only mum does that, and while I respect you as my older and supposedly wiser brother, I am not going to sit here and listen to you berate me, and use my full name in that chastising tone; as if I was some toddler who doesn't know any better. Perhaps you could have gotten away with doing it in my first year, but I'm sixteen now Ron…seventeen in about a month; I can take care of myself." She breathed heavily, still glaring darkly at her stunned brother.

Ron's jaw had dropped, Harry had lifted his head to stare back and forth between the arguing siblings, and Hermione had stopped pacing, a look between triumphant satisfaction and upset despondency flickering to and fro through her eyes with the twisting shadows the fire cast on her face.

"Look at this, Ginny. We never used to fight. Look at what just being around him has done to you." Ron pleaded, trying to take her hand.

Ginny moved back into the chair, giving him a look of utter disbelief. "This has nothing to do with Draco, Ron. This is about you. Don't you dare try to hand off the blame to Draco when all he's done is opened my eyes. The only reason you and I never used to fight was because I was always the obedient little girl who did what everyone told her to. I never gave you any grief or trouble. I've grown up, Ron. That's all there is to it. You would have known that if you bothered to pay any attention to me. Aside from when I start seeing someone you don't like, that is. And just so you don't go running off to go try and kill Draco, I grew up long before I started seeing him, so he has nothing to do with my change. I'm sorry, Ron. Really. But I'm not going to let you push me around any more. I love you. I always will; you're my big brother. But you've got to learn to respect me as an equal person, not like a little girl." She smiled weakly at him.

Ron's jaw had dropped even lower. The silence over the common room grew heavier. Hermione finally stepped forward, laying a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"She has a point, Ron." She said softly.

She turned to Ginny as Ron tensed. "And so does he, Gin. You know that Ron does care about you, and it's because he cares about you that he worries about you with Malfoy."

She turned back to Ron, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. "Ron, I know you're worried that Malfoy might hurt Ginny; he's not been exactly the greatest person, but Ginny is quite a bit older now. Just trust her decision." She said in her usual informative voice.

Ron stood suddenly, yanking out of Hermione's reach. The Head Girl drew back her hand, startled. Harry stood, glancing between Ron and Hermione anxiously. Ginny seemed to be temporarily forgotten.

"This is none of your concern, Hermione. She's my sister, and I don't want her near that rotten piece of filth." Ron growled, shooting Ginny a murderous look.

Hermione frowned, lowering her hand. "I know that Ron, and I'm not trying to intrude in family matters, but I don't want to see the two of you fighting because you don't understand each other's view point." She beseeched.

Ron shook his head, ready to explode.

Harry stepped forward, between Ron and Hermione, who were shooting daggers at each other. "Hermione, maybe we should leave Ginny and Ron to themselves for a while." Harry suggested, putting a hand to Ron's chest.

Hermione gave Ron one last look before sighing in aggravation, whirling out of the common room in a storm of rage. Harry leaned in and whispered something to Ron before following Hermione's path.

Ron turned to Ginny. "I know you're older and more responsible now, but I don't want you getting mixed up with the likes of Malfoy. I don't trust him." His face contorted in anger and disgust.

Ginny stood from her chair and walked over to her brother's rigid form, putting a hand on his arm. "You don't know him, Ron." She said softly. "I didn't like him any more than you did. But then I learned more about him; spent more time with him…he treats me better than anyone I've ever been with. Just, please believe me, Ron." Ginny begged, hating how weak she sounded. Like the little girl he thinks I am…she thought to herself.

Ron bit his lip. "Gin, I just don't want to see you hurt." He sighed, looking away into the fire. "I never told you this, but I felt so responsible for what Dean did." Ginny's eyes widened and her grasp on Ron's arm grew tighter. "Yeah, I found out about it from Heather, but she made me swear not to do anything or say anything to anyone, especially you." He sighed, and pain flashed through his eyes. "See, I gave Dean to go-ahead on that; he was interested in you and I thought he would treat you well…but I was wrong. And I've never forgiven myself for that; if Heather hadn't come…" he shivered, turning away.

Ginny smiled. "Ron, Draco isn't like that. Our rapport is based on more than just a quick shag. We're not…um, shall we say…sexually active?" Ron flushed, looking down at his foot. Ginny grinned. "He wants to be…" Ron stiffened, fists clenching "…but he respects that I don't. Not yet." Ron calmed down significantly, unclenching his fists.

"Gin…you're my little sister; my only sister. You're the only one I feel like I can take care of, so you'll just have to get used to me trying to 'baby sister' you. But, I suppose, if you absolutely must…I can give this thing a try. But a word of warning…" he pointed a finger warningly at her "…he does one thing to hurt you; looks at you wrong; or says anything bad about you I'll rip his ball-er, head off before you can even give me an argument." He cautioned.

Ginny's smile practically split her face in half. She rushed forward, wrapping Ron in a huge hug. "Oh, Ron!" she gushed, embarrassing the hell out of him and enjoying every second of it. Several sixth and seventh year boys who had stayed home for the holidays looked up from a corner where they were playing wizard's chess and laughed, pointing.

Ron's face and ears went red as he tried to disentangle himself from his sister's embrace. "Gin! Geroff!" he muttered, prying her arms off him. Ginny stepped back and laughed. "Fine. But thank you." She said, sobering. "I really appreciate it." She gave him an awkward pat on the arm as the boys in the corner jeered at Ron, making his face go an even darker shade of scarlet.

"Oy, big brother Ronnie! Can I have a hug too? I think there's a spider under my bed. Make it go away!" Seamus Finnegan teased, laughing harder.

Ginny sat back down in her chair, and pulled out her wand. Lovely thing: ebony and unicorn hair, 8 ½ inches. She twirled it around her fingers experimentally and pointed it behind her, muttering something low and inaudible.

"Oy!" Seamus yelled as a couple of the chess pieces flew up off the table and pelted him and the other boys mercilessly. Ginny chuckled to herself for several seconds listening to their vehement cursing, not even bothering to turn and watch, before waving her wand and murmuring the counter-spell. The chess pieces fell to the ground, clattering noisily.

"Oy, Ron, was that you?" She heard Seamus shout.

Ron glanced at Ginny, fighting to hide a grin, and shook his head innocently. "I don't even have my wand out." He shrugged, tossing Ginny a meaningful look. "But I think Ginny does."

Ginny scowled at Ron, barely hiding a grin as she hastily shoved her wand down her robes and stood. She turned to face the boys, all of who were rubbing various points of pain. Placing her hands on her hips, she rolled her eyes in a perfect imitation of a slightly annoyed Molly Weasley.

"Honestly! Would I do something like that? Of course not." She said quickly before anyone could answer. "Go ahead, search me for a wand if you like, you won't find one; it's upstairs waiting to be polished. Still, check my pockets if you like." She said flawlessly, holding out her arms.

None of the other boys moved. It was a trick Ginny had learned from Fred and George; reverse psychology or something along those lines. Ginny had taken a recent and deep interest in Muggle science: psychological, forensic, and the basic mentality of humans. The twins had also gotten interested and used it on Mrs. Weasley; making her seem like the wrong one and then saunter off looking affronted. Worked almost every time.

Worked this time too. Ginny glanced around in front of her, almost looking like she was reprimanding them. "No? Well, first wise decision any of you have made. Now, I'm afraid I have to go upstairs and polish my wand. 'Night all." She said cheerfully, turning to give Ron another huge hug.

"Scares me sometimes, how well you lie." Ron whispered into her hair, before shoving her away and ushering her up the stairs.

As she began to ascend the stairs up to her room, she turned slightly back to the boys, who were grumbling. "And by the way…Ron's wand is visibly sticking out of his back pocket." She grinned as Ron glared darkly at her and the other boys advanced on him with pillows, candy, and other none-too-painful projectiles.

Laughing, she walked up the rest of the stairs to the sound of a grand fight.

She entered her room and smiled: she was all alone this holiday. She loved having the room to herself; the girls who shared her room were nice and all, but rather…well…girly. Remarkably girly. For once, she wouldn't fall asleep to gossip and talk of boys, shopping, and clothes.

Ginny flopped down on her bed exhaustedly. Reaching under her pillow, Ginny pulled out a book. It was a Muggle book she'd picked up in Flourish and Blotts, where it had been accidentally ordered, and therefore marked half-price. It was actually quite interesting, if macabre. It was on famous killers of the century, and Ginny was careful not to let anyone see it; they already thought she was strange enough without them seeing her feverishly reading a book on murderers.

Within a few moments, she was asleep, her book lying open on her chest.

Heather was staring intently out the window of the carriage that was delivering her, Blaise, and Skye to Hogwarts from the train station into the darkness. They had parted with Janet back at the station, and Blaise's cousin had gone on to Hogsmeade where she would be staying for a few weeks.

Heather poked Blaise, who had begun dozing off, in the ribs. He sat up with a jolt. "Ow, what was that for?" he muttered, rubbing his side.

"We're nearly there." Heather said softly. During the whole train ride, she had been a nervous wreck, biting at her nails and lips. She was practically vibrating with anxiety, and Blaise's arm was aching from rubbing her back soothingly so much.

He did so now, much to the angry protests of his triceps. Heather leaned into him, her mind full.

The carriage arrived promptly at the entrance to the school. Dumbledore was standing at the entrance, waiting for them; Skye had owled him of their early arrival from the holidays. As Blaise and Heather stepped from the carriage, Skye strode toward Dumbledore, taking him aside to say a few brief, whispered words. Heather and Blaise took down their baggage and stood at the foot of the stone steps, waiting impatiently.

After a few moments, Dumbledore turned to the two teens. "You may head up to your respective dormitories now, if you wish." He said, gesturing up the stairs. "Your luggage will be brought up to your common rooms shortly." He gave them both a half-smile before turning back around to speak with Skye again.

Heather went up the stairs, Blaise right behind her. They walked in silence until they reached the point where they would have to go separate ways to get to the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms.

Heather faced Blaise, and sighed, the breath stirring a strand of hair that had fallen over her eye. "Well, I suppose this is where we part." She sighed again.

Blaise reached down and stroked her hair, his hand coming down to caress her cheek. She leaned into his hand. "Don't worry; I'm sure Ginny's fine. You'll see her in a few minutes." He assured her, hand coming down to clasp hers.

Heather smiled weakly up at Blaise. "You're right. I just…"she sighed "Well, tell Draco I said 'hello' for me, yeah?"

Blaise nodded. "Right, and you tell Ginny I said to take care of herself; whatever she's been up to had gotten Draco worried, and that's pretty hard to do, trust me."

Heather smiled and reached up to kiss him goodbye. Their kisses now marked a stage of their relationship. Whereas at first their kisses were more or less animal/ teen desire, their kisses now were lacking in that fiery passion. Now their kisses were soft, and gentle; full of so much meaning with so many tender emotions. It marked a new level of their connection; instead of lust and want, their kisses showed love and care.

Not that the occasional heated kiss wasn't present…

They broke apart after a few moments. Blaise turned as he walked off, and backed away, waving goodbye to her. Heather smiled; that soft, satisfied smile of a girl hopelessly and completely in love. That smile lasted all the way to Gryffindor common room.

"Heather!"

Heather glanced up, startled. She was halfway through the portrait hole on her way inside. Hermione was running toward her from an empty corridor, her robes billowing out behind her as she awkwardly slung her bag over her shoulder, trying to keep it from falling off as she hurried up to where Heather was standing, half-frozen.

As the Head Girl finally reached her, Heather arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Hermione took a breath; her face was a little pink from her excursion. "What are you doing here? Not to be crude or anything, but I thought you were staying in France for the holidays? Ginny said you were…with Zabini." She managed to hide her distaste quite well; had it been Ron or Harry in her spot, they would have both either sneered or spat the name. Hermione was (if a know-it-all), more understanding.

Heather nodded. "I was…but something came up. Draco owled us…said something happened concerning Ginny. What happened? Is Ginny alright?" Fear edged into Heather's voice, and her hands unconsciously clenched.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, she's fine now. I suppose Malfoy owled you on Christmas?"

Heather nodded. "We…Blaise and I…got the letter this morning. We left as soon as we could. What happened to Ginny?"

Hermione frowned. "Let's go inside, shall we? I'll tell you once we can sit down; no doubt you're tired." Heather followed the older girl into the common room gratefully, sinking into the nearest armchair across from Hermione.

The bushy-haired Head Girl sighed. "Well, apparently…from what I've heard…Ginny flew out to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I don't know entirely why, but the fact that Malfoy followed her out there, and that she usually only flies off when she's upset…well, it doesn't take a lot of brainpower to see that they had a little lover's quarrel." Hermione's grin faltered. "Whatever the case, Ginny was attacked by a wolf. Draco got there in time to bring her back to Madame Pomfrey." Hermione said shortly. She didn't like putting too much thought into it; it still gave her the shivers.

Heather sat straight up. "But she's fine…right? Is she still in the hospital wing, or is she upstairs?" Hermione nodded to the stairs, and without another word, Heather was off, taking the stairs two at a time.

She burst into the girls sixth years' dormitory, glancing around, much as she had two years ago when she'd seen Dean sneak up the girls' staircase after Ginny. This time, however, there was no hormonal guy in the room. In fact the room was empty, though Ginny's curtains were pulled around her bed. Heather crept over to the girl's bed and pulled back the hanging cloth a little.

Ginny was deep asleep with a book open on her stomach. Heather sighed and reached down to smooth the hair on Ginny's forehead. The slender red-head stirred slightly in her sleep. Heather glanced down, noting the bandaging around her forearm and shoulder. She stared darkly at the wound indications.

Standing, she gave Ginny one last look before exiting the room.

For now, she would let her sleep. For now, she would give her peace. But tomorrow, serious explanations would be in order.