Ginny Weasley hated Draco Malfoy more than anything in the world. She loathed him. She wanted nothing more than to smash his face into the plate of peas he happened to have in front of him. He was casually flicking them at Neville. She had to admit that the bastard had good aim. Every time he flicked a pea, it landed in Neville's butter beer. Neville had a pained expression on his face as he tried to ignore the fact that his favorite drink had round green vegetables bobbing in it.
Oh, Blaise and Crabbe thought it hilarious. Ginny vehemently imagined the peas on the plate coming to life and marching up their noses. Then who would be laughing? Unfortunately, they happened to be in the Great Hall and any misuse of magic would be caught by a teacher before the spell even left the wand. But it might be worth it anyway…
Drat and double drat. Draco had been even more annoying lately. He didn't even seem to have to have a specific target anymore since he didn't dare target Harry. He was now lobbing peas at Pansy and Millicent, who screamed obscenities his way before moving to a safer location further down the table.
Distance, however, seemed to be the Slytherin Prince's forte. He nailed Pansy in the eye and managed to shoot one directly into Millicent's mouth. He hardly even seemed to be trying. Goyle now entered and distracted Draco from his amusement by picking up the plate of peas and downing it in a gulp. Draco shrugged and unfolded himself gracefully from the table, stretching as he did so. This drew the attention of many of the female populace, even Pansy and Millicent, recent victims of Draco's game.
Although Draco's wardrobe and wealth had been considerably reduced after his father was sent to Azkaban for the second time and much of their estate seized by the Ministry to fund the war against the Death Eaters, he still managed to lord it over the rest of the Slytherins. Ginny imagined that Draco would manage to look princely dressed in nothing but his own pride and arrogance. Infuriatingly, Ginny caught herself watching the way Draco's muscles rippled under his shirt, and the catlike grace and flexibility he displayed while stretching. He yawned and strolled out of the Hall. What a git! Ginny gritted her teeth. She knew that Draco's display had been completely intended to draw attention to himself. Merlin, she hated that stuck-up bloody bogie!
Fortunately, Ginny had little to do with Draco during most of the course of the day. Although both Ginny and Luna were ahead of their year in several classes because of their involvement in the activities surrounding the war, they were still on level in most classes. Ginny's studies consisted of many of the things Hermione had taken—only in moderation. Ginny smiled at the thought of her overachieving friend. Fred and George had once told Ginny if she ever tried what Hermione had her third year, they would come and kidnap her from the school for a week or two until she was so far behind she wouldn't have any choice but to drop some classes. She grinned again thinking of Fred and George. They perhaps were the ones who understood her best, except maybe for Luna, who was at times so vaguely insightful it was frightening. Without giving another thought to the Slytherin prince, Ginny went cheerfully to meet Luna for their History of Druidic Incantations class.
It wasn't until later that Ginny had reason to glare at Draco again. Why, oh why, did he have to share the last class of the day with her? Of course, Snape was the teacher. He had finally gotten the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that he had longed for. No one questioned the decision. Snape had certainly earned it. She glanced at him and her eyes were inevitably drawn to where his left arm used to be. He had cut it off himself when Voldemort had tried to make him kill Harry, controlling him through the brand on his arm. He hadn't changed much. The black-haired professor was still acerbic as ever. Strangely, Draco didn't seem to harbor any anger toward him for having betrayed the Death Eaters.
Of course, many things that Draco had done since his father was imprisoned again didn't seem to make much sense. No one even knew why he had decided to come back his sixth year, especially since there were many who were in favor of tying him to the Whomping Willow and leaving him there for a few days. Why Hogwarts? Dumbledore had been the one who welcomed him back about two weeks into the second semester last year. To everyone's surprise, Draco had thrown himself into his studies and actually managed to catch up to the rest of his year mates. He hadn't even taken a week to regain his position in Slytherin House, which actually was considered a feat. Many in Slytherin were playing it safe; coming back to Hogwarts to give a show of not being allied to Voldemort. They had been leery of consorting with the son of a known and prominent Death Eater. However, Draco's charisma had been too much for them, and they had succumbed. Crabbe and Goyle and Blaise had been the first to return to their positions by Draco's side. Surprisingly, he seemed to have struck up a friendship with Theodore Nott as well. Even stranger were his friendships with some of the students in Ravenclaw.
When Draco had first arrived back at Hogwarts, everyone had expected a big confrontation between him and Harry. Ron counseled Harry just to go ahead and get it over with—Hermione counseled caution. Harry, as usual, went with Ron's suggestion because that was what he really wanted to do. So, Harry had confronted Draco in the hallway on the third day he was back. Harry stood at the ready, in duel stance, and waited. Draco simply glanced at him, looked down at his feet for a moment, then held his head high and walked away. The trio had been shocked to say the least. Dumbledore had promptly appeared and warned Harry not to try that again. Ginny could remember every word of what the headmaster had said.
"Harry, I cannot guarantee that Draco will be able to hold back again. You would do well not to tempt someone back into their former bad habits, including tempting yourself to return to them. Draco is here under my authority. That means that he is under my protection. He is now my ward, and as such, I expect him to be treated civilly."
This of course had been another shock. No one in Gryffindor could imagine why the head of the Order of the Phoenix would choose to take guardianship over the son of one of the most prominent, albeit currently imprisoned, Death Eaters. Ginny had a few ideas, knowing how twisty a mind the venerable headmaster had, but she wasn't inclined to share them with anyone, except perhaps Luna, who had a similarly twisty outlook on life.
Since that day, Ginny had paid careful attention to Draco's activities. She was by nature curious, and being singularly suited to spying, having been trained by the twins, she undertook the task of seeing whether Draco was up to anything. What had been frustrating was that he didn't seem to be. Yes, he was just as cocky and proud as ever. The familiar smirk was still in place. He still pestered easy targets like Neville—although Ginny had noticed that he rarely used magic to play these tricks. Whenever he saw Harry, he looked away. Ginny had put herself in a position to see his expression at one of these times, and although she wasn't surprised to see the amount of anger on his face, she was shocked to see how many other emotions conflicted there. It was almost frightening to see Draco lose control over his normally icy expressions.
Ginny was brought quickly back to class by Luna's frantic hissing. Snape was looking at her expectantly. Ginny felt herself turning bright red.
"Your pardon, professor. I apologize. I'm afraid I didn't hear the question." Snape looked like he was about to say something, but suddenly thought better of it. I asked you Miss Weasley what you do when confronted with a blackspit curse."
"Think the countercurse in your head, moving your wand in a backwards flicking position, sir. You must not open your mouth, or the spell might become permanent depending upon the strength of the spell caster."
"Well, at least I see you paid attention to your lesson, even if you can't be bothered to pay attention in class. Five points from Gryffindor." Ginny nodded. She had gotten off relatively easy. She glanced over at Draco, who returned her look with a smirk. Oh, how she hated him!
Ginny set about her spying with a will after that incident. She wanted to catch Draco doing something wrong—anything, just to prove that he had not changed enough to be in Hogwarts. It didn't matter to her that she hadn't found anything last semester either. She was determined to do this, even if she had to ask Fred and George their advice. Next weekend was a Hogsmeade visit. She would ask them then.
The week went by very quickly. Luna chided Ginny about her choice of obsessions several times. She claimed that there were much less dangerous things to be interested in than Draco Malfoy, such as fire-breathing termagants. Ginny just smiled and assured her that it wasn't that she was obsessed; it was just that she wanted to see this through. Luna would just shrug and read her magazine upside-down. Finally the weekend arrived, and Ginny set out for Hogsmeade. She was looking forward to it, since she hadn't seen Fred and George for some time now.
They were certainly easy to spot. Wearing bright green dragonskin jackets, which offset their hair rather garishly, the twins were surrounded by their frighteningly sentient fireworks. They smiled at their younger sister, and Fred waved her into their store and through to the back.
"Got anything new, Ginny luv? Those Sniggering Snow Cones went over brilliantly. Had everyone laughing for days…literally." Fred rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
Ginny grinned. She had been fielding some of her own products through the twins. Her mother didn't know, of course. Ginny used the money to upgrade some of her wardrobe and books. She also had a very nice racing broom, which came in handy for her chaser position on the Gryffindor quidditch team. Mother didn't really know a great deal about racing brooms, and therefore didn't really ever pay attention to the model her daughter used.
"Well, I finally got the Gulping Grape Jelly free of the pesky side affects. Poor Neville. He had a hard time being purple. I'm glad I finally worked that out." She handed Fred the jar and the recipe. He took it with relish and rushed out to tell George and to get her money. A few minutes later, George came in and handed her sack that felt suspiciously heavy. She gave him an evil look and opened the bag. As she had thought, there was a great deal too much coin. Before she could even say anything, George waved his hand.
"You know we can't help but spoil you, Gin. Besides, you know that money will just keep appearing in your possession until you accept it. Remember what happened last time when it appeared in your bathing suit while you were swimming?"
Gin made a face at him, but decided to let it go. She had something important she needed to ask. She was glad that George was the one with her now. He was more sensitive than Fred, and less inclined to joke about everything. Also, her question, and its ramifications, would be less likely to come up as a topic of conversation at a later date. Fred was great, but he also liked to rub things in.
"George…I would like some advice. I have been watching a certain person for a while now. I know he must be up to something, but I'm not sure what, and I'm having trouble catching him at it…" She was surprised to see her brother's expression harden.
"If you mean Draco, then you can forget it. Leave him alone. He's been through enough."
Ginny looked at her brother in shock. He shook his head and muttered something about bloody well telling her anyway.
"Look Gin, Draco was in here a while back before he was enrolled back in Hogwarts. His mother was with him. He looked around and picked up some items. Fred and I watched him like hawks of course. He had to have known, but there he was, head held high as usual. Then I started to notice some things. His robes were out of style and too small, his shoes were scuffed, he didn't have any servants with him, nor did he have any packages. Then he turned and picked up that racing broom model we worked on, the one that acts like 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn. He watched it for a few minutes with this odd look on his face. 'This is bloody brilliant,' he said. Then he carefully put it back. That was when his mother came in. No last year's fashions for her. She was dressed to the nines. As soon as he saw her, he got a pained expression on his face. She turned to him and called him Lucius. She went on and on about dinner plans and so on, all the time calling him by his father's name. Then she saw us and got confused I think…well, even more confused. She started talking to that life-sized model we have of Ulric the Oddball, calling it Lucius. All the time she's doin' this, Draco's trying to steer her from the store. He was being real gentle. Then he looked out and saw some people coming out of the Hog's Head toward our store. He turned around real quick, and we could see the panic on his face. He looked us directly in the eyes for the first time. What he needed was pretty clear. We shuffled him out the back. I snuck the model of Dai into his pocket. The people, there were five of them, doddered around for a bit. They bought a few oddments, asked us whether we'd seen a blond kid and his mother. We replied that we had and sent them in the wrong direction. Shortly after, a couple of aurors came through. Seems that those people Draco wanted to get away from were Death Eaters. We pointed the aurors in the right direction and immediately owled Dumbledore and told him about Draco's situation. He was there faster than I thought the owl could fly. He listened to our story and went haring off…you know how he is. Anyway, a few days later, we hear that Draco is now under Dumbledore's care, and Draco's mum is in private care. So you see Gin, that's enough to start to change a person. Besides, Dumbledore seems to think that he has changed."
He glanced at his sister's still stubborn expression and sighed. "But if you still insist on this, use Harry's map. Watch what Draco does at night. Rumor is that he often goes to the Forbidden Forest."
Ginny nodded and dropped the conversation. She and George discussed business and family, Fred soon joining them. After a pleasant afternoon spent in the company of her brothers, Ginny left for Hogwarts, a plan brewing in her head.
She easily borrowed Harry's map. Harry didn't know she had borrowed it, but Ginny figured that she had just saved him some time, since the argument they would have had over it would have taken quite a while. While she was borrowing his map, she also decided that Harry would insist on her using his cloak if she must go out at night, so she borrowed that as well. Harry wouldn't notice; he was doing a great deal less sneaking around now that he had been given a right to be in the halls at all hours.
That evening, she stationed herself outside of the entrance to the Slytherin common room, taking note of Malfoy's position. It was a very long wait. He didn't even come out, and Ginny spent most of the night sleeping on the dank stone outside Slytherin house. So went the next two nights. The third night, he went out, but it was to visit Dumbledore, and not even Ginny would venture into Dumbledore's quarters without permission.
Two nights later, Ginny followed Malfoy into the prefect's bathroom before she realized where they were going. Draco was already getting undressed for the bath. Ginny felt herself turning scarlet. She wanted to escape. She hated the feeling of curiosity welling up in her gut. She wanted to look, but clamped her eyes shut, muttering 'Don't forget you hate the git' under her breath like a mantra. She expected to feel the steam from warm water, but a chill was filling the room. Ginny tried to convince herself that it was this, more than anything else that caused her to look to see what Draco was doing.
Draco stood by the bath, a towel over the arm nearest Ginny. Aside from that, he wasn't wearing a stitch. Ginny reflected on one of her earlier thoughts and decided that Draco did indeed look princely wearing nothing but his pride. She studied the contours of his back with almost completely aesthetic appreciation. Standing so still as he was, his skin so pale, he could have been one of those statues the great wizard Da Vinci had sculpted. She wondered if he would feel like marble, cold and unyielding, if she touched him—just a whisper of a touch. Her hand was reaching out of its own will when another of those cold drafts worked its way under Harry's cloak. Startled, Ginny realized that Draco was pouring himself an ice cold bath.
Myrtle appeared just then, sniffling. Draco didn't even jump; he merely looked with lazy disdain in the ghost's direction.
Myrtle sniffed again, and then again, curiously. She turned directly toward Ginny and gazed a little to one side of her.
"You have a watcher, O prince."
Draco looked at Myrtle with amused irritation.
"Yes, I can see that."
Myrtle opened her mouth again to explain, when Draco held up the hand that was still draped by the brilliant emerald towel. He stood completely still for a moment and then begin to turn slowly. Ginny stood petrified. When he finished turning around, he was looking directly into her eyes. She stopped breathing. Even in her terror, she couldn't help but think he was beautiful, like a broken angel.
"Who's there?" His sepulchral voice echoed strangely around the tiled room. It seemed to seep into the air until there wasn't any choice but to breathe in his words. They burned her throat and caused her lungs to cry out. If she said something—let him know she was there—what would happen? What would he do in this situation? The ice in his eyes was suffocating her, but at the same time, she was intrigued. If she looked close enough, it almost looked like there was fear behind the frost. In that moment, Ginny discovered a desire in herself that she would have never even imagined, and she opened her mouth and took a breath to say something.
It was the knock that was her salvation.
"Draco?" It was Dumbledore's voice, filled with concern and perhaps…amusement.
Draco hurriedly grabbed a robe, and in the moment between when he dropped the towel and when he stuffed his arms into his sleeves, Ginny thought she saw a flash of something on his left wrist. A mark perhaps…
Dumbledore entered and crossed to the bath. "You've let your water get cold again." The headmaster smiled, and fragrant steam rose from the water. Draco looked at the tub like he hadn't even realized he had filled it with frigid water until that moment.
"I just needed to ask you what you did with my sneakoscope. I can't find it anywhere, and I wanted to make some adjustments to it while I had the time. Others seem to have too much time on their hands, but alas I have very little. And Myrtle, would you be so kind as to pretend to give Draco some privacy. I know that he doesn't really seem shocked by the fact that you hang around, but, having spent some time as an exhibit in a truly peculiar circus, I find being stared at in such private surroundings a little on the discomfiting side… "
Feeling like Dumbledore's words had arrowed into her conscience and released a tide of guilt, Ginny fled through the door, which Dumbledore had left open just wide enough for her to pass through without touching the edges.
Ginny did not follow Draco for two weeks after this incident. Every time she even thought about going near him again, heat coursed through her body. Part of it was the blush of Dumbledore's gentle remonstrance, but the other part was an emotion that Ginny was unwilling to face. Her lies were wearing thin, even to her own ears. Luna looked at her one day when she had drifted off again over her homework, staring into space, or perhaps through the walls of the library into a certain stately common room.
"Ginny, have you thought about how small the distance is between obsession and love? Stumpfoot Blackplaks cross it all the time."
When Ginny glared at her, Luna just shrugged and went back to her arithmancy.
In the end, Ginny's curiosity and, truth to tell, her rather burning desire to see Draco closely again, won out over her guilt. She promised herself that once she found something to send Draco away, and once he was out of her life completely, she wouldn't even think of him again. She ignored the little hitch in her heart when she thought of never seeing him again. And so Ginny found that once again she was standing outside the door to the Slytherin common room, waiting for Draco to emerge. It was a very long wait. Ginny was curled up in a heap on the very uncomfortable floor and had almost fallen asleep when her target slipped out of the door. He was dressed in all black, even his cloak, although it seemed to be made up of different shades. For some reason, it made him harder to see.
What was that blighter doing now? Ginny wrapped Harry's invisibility cloak more closely around herself and followed him. He was being awfully stealthy. He seemed perfectly comfortable out in the halls at night. If he roamed like this often, it was no wonder that he had caught Harry so many times before on those nocturnal excursions that caused the trio so much trouble. He slipped silently through a small door that let off of a hallway. Ginny had never even noticed the door before, and Fred and George had shown her a great deal of the castle.
They crossed the grounds with ease and headed straight to the Forest. So, it was true. What could Malfoy be thinking going into the Forbidden Forest at night? Alone, of all things! Idiot. This should be enough to cast suspicion on him, considering the Forest was still out of bounds to students. Although she knew she should turn around and tell someone, Ginny decided to follow just in case Malfoy needed rescuing. She was tempted just to let him fend for himself, but truthfully, her curiosity was winning the battle. Besides, what if he was going to meet with some of the renegade Death Eaters to plot something new to torment Harry? Harry had been through so much already, his friends would go miles out of their way to head off something else happening to him, especially since things were relatively quiet at the moment. Ginny followed Malfoy a short way into the tree line before he stopped and seemed to be looking for something. He kneeled at the base of an oddly shaped tree, and leaned down. Ginny crouched behind some bushes.
Draco seemed to be digging in the dirt for something. Ginny now noticed that he seemed distracted and oddly desperate. There was hunger in his face. It was a look that made Ginny long to give him whatever it was that he needed. She shook herself. How could she even think such a thing? Ginny set her jaw stubbornly. With the stubborn streak inherent in her nature full force, Ginny focused on what she was here for—she just knew that tonight was the night she would find something about Draco that would get him away from Harry and out of Ginny's hair for good. Not even Dumbledore could justify keeping Draco at Hogwarts if he were consorting with Death Eaters or plotting something that would help Voldemort's followers to win against the Order of the Phoenix. Even the crick in the neck that Ginny was developing was worth getting rid of Draco.
Meanwhile, the blond Slytherin in question had unearthed whatever he had been searching for. Ginny slowly craned her head around, wincing at the sharp pain down her spine, so that she could see what he had in his hands. It was a book. A diary. For one heartrending moment, Ginny thought it might be that diary, but relief came as she saw the words on the front. They were done in silver—cascading snake-like letters that didn't quite seem to be staying put as letters should. After trying unsuccessfully to decipher the words, she glanced at Draco, who was staring at the cover. Ginny noticed that his eyes almost matched the coloring of the letters. She followed his gaze back down and discovered that she could now read the title.
"The Diaries of Draco S. Malfoy"
Ginny idly wondered what the S. stood for before she really took in what she was seeing. Why would Draco sneak out here to hide a diary? Before she could wonder along those lines much further, Draco began to talk. As he did, words appeared on the pages before him. He set the book down carefully on a tree stump and began to pace. The diary recorded his words faithfully.
"These are the diary entries of Draco Salazar Malfoy.
Entry: January 4th, one month before my 17th birthday."
Ginny tried to hold back glee. Draco's middle name was surely a sign that he was born to be a Death Eater. She forced herself to focus as he continued.
"It has been a struggle going this week without adding an entry. Dumbledore understands, but does not want me to cause undue concern among the other students about where I go all the time. So we have worked things out for me to come every week, during the night when the other students sleep. Snape and the other professors have been informed that I am to be allowed to do this. Snape would really be the only one who would concern me, staying up at all hours as he does, the old bat. He has been one of the easiest professors to deal with in the matter. The other professors of course were suspicious, but they all respect Dumbledore, and consented, if unwillingly, to our arrangement…
Mother has been sending me odd things again—it was a raven's feather and a twig from a nest the other day. I dread to see what she will send me on my birthday if she remembers—last year she didn't. Truthfully, I didn't remember either, until much later."
Draco paused, and Ginny suddenly found herself very uncomfortable. She felt as if she were spying on something inside someone's head. She really ought to leave, but she was spellbound by the opportunity to see this side of Draco. Also, Ginny stubbornly held on to the idea that she would learn something that would incriminate Draco.
"Sometimes I wonder if insanity isn't inherent in my family. The other day, I went to take a bath. I was thinking about everything that's happened, and my mind wasn't really on what I was doing. I drew myself an ice cold bath again. It's like I'm continually trying to punish myself. Mordred knows what I'm punishing myself for—is it for mother, or my own behavior, or father…And I could have sworn that there was someone with me, just for a moment. A very feminine presence…I could almost feel her touch, her breath on my skin. The only reason I don't think I'm completely nutters is that Myrtle noted her presence as well. Of course, she is certainly not all that stable a witness either. Right before Dumbledore showed up and pointed out that I was about to make a popsicle of myself, I heard an intake of breath, as if the presence were about to say something to me. I wanted her too, dreadfully."
Ginny was having trouble breathing back behind her bushes. Draco's hair had fallen into his eyes most appealingly, not being slicked back as usual. He looked much different this way. Oh, he was still arrogant. There was nothing in the world that could completely take away his pride. However, Ginny could see that hunger in his eyes again, and this time she recognized it. She saw it herself every time she looked in her mirror. It was deep loneliness, caused by guilt and sadness and experiences that other people just couldn't understand. It was the kind of loneliness that you felt even when you were surrounded by a crowd of friends and family, because it never left until you found someone who had gone through something like you had. Harry had the look, only his went much deeper and stranger than even Ginny's. It made him unable to understand anyone else's loneliness and ostracized him even further. Draco's look was similar to what Ginny felt.
"I can hardly stand being in Slytherin dorm anymore. It all seems so flat and petty. I pull the act I used to pull, and say the words I used to say, but it's so stale. I am so bloody tired of them all. The posturing and the maneuvering and groveling. I just want to be myself."
Draco was now pacing agitatedly and anger was lending color to his pale cheeks. It gave his eyes an eerie look. He raked his fingers violently through his hair. Suddenly, he stopped and whirled toward a small, unoffending tree. He took out his wand and methodically blasted it to bits.
"Damn, damn, bloody thrice damned idiot."
Every word was punctuated with a blast of power, until there was nothing left of the tree but splinters.
"I hate it! I hate it! " Draco was now screaming, "I hate being this way!"
Tears of anger were sliding down his pale cheeks. He fell to his knees, wracked with sobs.
Ginny was utterly flabbergasted. This was not at all what she had expected to learn. She had to fight the strange compulsion to run over and comfort him. She couldn't even muster up enough hate to convince herself that he deserved this. Whatever Harry had been through, it seemed that Draco had his share of pain as well. The difference between them was that Harry held his anger and pain inside, while Draco's was spilling out in the form of senseless malice.
Without even realizing what she was doing, Ginny rose and walked into the clearing. Draco was alert and on his feet in seconds, his damp face the only sign of his recent anguish. Ginny noticed that the same cold look came into his eyes—the look that covered up fear. Suddenly, it occurred to Ginny that whatever Draco was afraid of had to be truly terrifying. He didn't seem to be afraid of things in the ordinary way anymore. He had been like that since he'd come back. Ginny knew that feeling. She herself often felt unimpressed by things that should scare her silly…but she remembered more of what happened her first year of school than she would ever let on. After something like that, other things just paled in comparison. She took a breath, and Draco straightened, once again looking directly toward her, straight into her eyes as if he could see her.
"Is it…you, from the other night?"
He looked so lost for a second, before his natural hardness took over. Draco was much tougher than she had thought, all those years before the war began. Ginny sighed and reached out to gently brush his face with the silky cloth of Harry's cloak. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the material. So, the prince of Slytherin wasn't made of marble. When he moved as if to reach for her, she ran away. She looked back over her shoulder once, and saw that he was still standing there, one hand on his cheek, looking strangely shocked.
That night, and every other night afterward, Ginny dreamed of Draco. In her dreams, she could never get close to him. There were always walls around him. Sometimes the walls were ice, sometimes glass. Once, he was surrounded by a wall of water. That was the closest she ever came to him. She managed to reach a hand through and touch him before she was pushed back. She noticed that Draco looked very thoughtful the next day.
Outwardly, it appeared to Ginny's friends as if she had given up hunting down Draco's dark secret. She was very careful to leave off the sighing and daydreaming. Luna had come too close to guessing the truth too many times. It was a truth the Ginny was finally admitting to herself. She had fallen hard for Draco Malfoy. Not the Draco who paraded the halls with his Slytherin entourage, but the Draco who spoke to the journal. That was another thing Ginny would never mention. She hadn't even kept her own journal since her first year. Her mother always managed to accidentally throw them away, or Hermione would get all tight and pinch faced if she saw Ginny with a diary. Ron had even had trouble seeing his little sister with a book in her hand after what had happened. Considering her history with darkly handsome young men and diaries, it simply would not do to mention it around anyone anyway. They were certainly happier now that Ginny seemed to have retracted her interest in Draco Malfoy…if only they knew.
As Ginny had suspected, Harry made no mention of his cloak or the map missing. She was careful to put them back every time she finished with them. Ginny returned to the forest to study the diary. Her dreams drove her to find out more about Draco. However, the diary was protected by warding spells. It may have appeared that Ginny became more and more diligent in her studies. She spent hours in the library. Simply, she was reading about warding spells. Her determination to help ease Draco's pain in some way was what kept her going. Always in her dreams Draco's eyes were cold and lonely. It was like he was freezing from the inside out. She also began to believe that her dreams were overlapping with Draco's somehow. She traced it back to the moment she had followed Draco's gaze to the title on his journal. Their magic had somehow joined together in one spot when that had happened. Her research confirmed that it was possible and had happened before with people whose spirits resonated with one another in some way. Fred and George had often talked about how their magic could be woven together and made stronger. That was how they got such stupendous results. It was this small knot of joined magic that allowed Ginny to finally have access to Draco's diary in quite an unexpected way.
She happened to be awake the first time it happened. It was very late, and Ginny was still in the library. Her focus was completely narrowed on Draco's journal, but she was so tired that everything else was vague, as if Draco's thoughts were the only reality. That was when she saw the words before her eyes…and she heard his voice. It was an entry dated shortly after he had arrived back at Hogwarts. Somehow Ginny knew that Draco had not kept a journal before his arrival back at the school. The words drifted past her like ghosts, but Draco's voice in her ear was very real.
"I have to say that Dumbledore's got balls of steel for such an old wizard. I guess he would have to if even half of what they say about him is true. I can't say that I ever believed any of it until just recently. My father had always told me what a weakling he was—that he lied about all of the amazing things he did. Maybe my father was thinking of someone else—himself perhaps. Ha! I've just started this damn thing and I've already insulted my father. Well, be prepared for more of that, because I would like you to know that I absolutely hate him. He's the reason my mother is…unwell. Dumbledore has been good enough to care for my mother. He has taken me in and asked me to come back to Hogwarts. That's why I say he's got balls…or maybe he's just gone potty in his upper years. I mean, I certainly wouldn't invite me back after I pretty damn well declared my allegiance to Voldemort. I suppose what has happened has helped him to believe my story and my reasoning behind evading the Death Eaters. I don't even know how he convinced me to tell him or how he found out about my mum. One minute I was leaving the Weasleys' store, running from those who were after me, and the next there he was. He didn't even ask me anything. I just told him. Everything. Let's just say that that is very uncharacteristic of me. It may seem that I talk a great deal about myself, but truth be known, it's just a surface act. It didn't used to be mind you, but I am quite a different person than I was before summer. Well, anyway, Dumbledore gave me this journal. Said it would be good for me to have somewhere to be myself. I suppose he's right, though I hate to admit it. He was right about Potter. When I just walked away, the bratty trio was stunned. It was bloody difficult though. There's so much bad blood between us, and frankly, I doubt we could ever share the same space comfortably. I wanted to kick Potter's teeth in and turn him into something nasty as soon as I saw him. I guess it's a mark of how much I've changed that I didn't…"
"Ginny. Ginny, hellooo. Snap out of it." Hermione was standing in front of Ginny looking equal parts annoyed and worried. "The library is closing, you have to leave."
Ginny looked at Hermione as if she had two heads. Then she looked at her watch and groaned.
"Sorry, 'Mione. I think I sort of fell asleep right in my seat."
"Well, you've been working much too hard. Some people might think that you're trying to emulate someone you know." Hermione smiled and winked at Ginny, who managed a weak smile back. Normally, she would have made some retort to Hermione about being a pretentious prat, but her mind was on what she had just heard. Hermione looked at her strangely and walked her back to Gryffindor common room, all the while asking her if she felt well.
That night, Ginny finished her work and went to sleep. Although she had a lot on her mind, she wanted to think over Draco's words before she tried to hear any more. Everything she learned about Draco drew her to him. She knew that the way she was thinking would shock her friends and family—it shocked her—but even hearing his thoughts in a dream was intoxicating. If her research was true, then that meant she and Draco complimented each other in some way. Ginny was startled to realize that this was a truly comforting thought, and that she was not even a bit upset that this might be the case.
Ginny waited several days before she tried again to pick up one of Draco's entries. In the intervening time, she watched him surreptitiously, feeling a bit like a stalker at times. She did not follow him again. It was enough to see him, and to watch for hints of what she had learned about him. She would have never seen them if she hadn't known to look for the signs. Just the way he treated his friends showed her the differences in his personality. Two years ago, he was always going on about how stupid Crabbe and Goyle were, but now he was fairly tolerant of the two louts. He had befriended some of the Ravenclaw students who tended a little towards the darker side of things in attitude if not in practice. Although they were often the victims of his little pranks, the girls of Slytherin were often treated to some of Draco's charisma and courtesy. Where he would have turned around and made fun of them immediately when he was a fifth year, Draco now let that courtesy stand. That was one of the reasons that the girls tolerated his outbursts of malice.
With all of this in mind, Ginny retreated to a sheltered corner of the library directly after supper. She relaxed and focused on Draco, which wasn't that difficult considering that her thoughts had been dancing around that topic all day. Once again, she felt a narrowing of her concentration, and everything else simply ceased to be important enough for her to actively notice. This time she was still aware of her surroundings, but they now took a backseat to the words that only she saw and heard.
"Entry February 5th, one day after my 16th birthday. It may be hard to believe, but until today I had forgotten all about my birthday. Apparently so did my mother. I don't blame either of us. I had just returned to a school filled with students mostly inimical to me, and my mother is settling in at the private care facility. You know who was the first one to wish me happy birthday? Goyle, of all people. He even remembered that it was yesterday, but he spent most of the day cleaning for Professor McGonagall and didn't get a chance to tell me. I think I may have underestimated him. He isn't the fastest broom on the Quidditch field, but he remembered. He even got me a chocolate frog. It wasn't even opened. I kept the wizard card since it was Morgan Le Fey, and I let him have the frog. It isn't his fault he didn't know I'm allergic—something about the magic that makes them hop. Crabbe also had a small present for me—a slightly crushed, but intact box of ice mice, which are one of my favorites. Blaise gave me a new cloak for Quidditch which has weatherproof spells woven in it. Even Pansy and Millie remembered and baked me a cake. I had Crabbe and Goyle try a piece before I ate it. When they survived, I braved eating some. It was actually quite tasty. It was a small birthday, actually much better than any of my others.
At least it was, until I got the present from my father. I don't know how he managed to send me anything at all through Azkaban's security, but my father has always been able to make connections in odd places. My father sent me the diary that caused Ginny Weasley to open the Chamber of Secrets. Fortunately, I recognized it before I got it open all the way. I took it to Dumbledore immediately. There was no way I was going to risk it, even though Potter thoroughly impaled the thing. I hate to think what it must have been like for Ginny. Until this past summer, I wouldn't even have cared, but I've had my own taste of being on the wrong end of one of Voldemort's schemes, so my perspective has changed entirely. I'm not certain why father sent it to me. Perhaps as a warning of some kind. I don't know what he thought to accomplish. It could be that I have sealed my fate by giving the book to Dumbledore. If I am being watched, which I believe I probably am, the Death Eaters will know that I no longer follow Voldemort. Don't get me wrong—I'm certainly not on Potter's side, but I have a feeling that there isn't going to be much room for neutrality in the coming war. Given the choice I have, I will do what I can to support Dumbledore's efforts. I can see myself existing in his world. I know that I would not in a world where Voldemort reigns…"
Ginny and blinked her eyes and gasped for air. It suddenly felt like she had not been breathing at all during this entry. The shivers came a moment later, as the reality of Draco's words hit her. That diary had been here. Ginny forced herself to take deep breaths and think about what else she had heard. The diary had not prevailed, and besides, Draco had gotten rid of it. She focused on another part of Draco's entry. He had betrayed his father and Voldemort. What George had told her now made a great deal more sense. Dumbledore had accepted Draco as his ward in order to protect him. Ginny realized that having Draco help the cause might be invaluable to the Order of the Phoenix. Draco had first hand knowledge of how his father's mind worked and he had been privy to knowledge about the Death Eaters themselves. He was also a powerful young wizard. His recent studies had proved him so. Ginny blinked and stretched, realizing as she did so that she had grown very stiff. As she massaged a shoulder, she paused. Draco had mentioned her name in his entry. It was the first time she had ever heard him say it really, without a sneer in his voice. She rather like the way it sounded in his mouth. It was perhaps at that moment, inspired by his journal entry, that Ginny decided to give Draco a birthday present.