Chapter 4

It was almost midnight again when he slipped out the window and back into the night air. It felt strange not to have the cloak over him. He felt so exposed... The grounds before him looked strangely bright... as if darkness itself had accepted him and left him untroubled by its presence... He flew out over the lake, skimming just above the surface, staring down at it. The moonlight gleamed back up at him, uninterrupted by his existence. He had absolutely no reflection. He could see himself and his broom directly, but only in a vague, shimmering way... as if he really were a ghost. He reached down and trailed his fingers through the water, setting off ripples... almost feeling he had to reassure himself he was really there.

He pulled up and veered off over the forest. With a surge of distress, he worried that the Thestrals would not even be able to see him like this... He never felt quite right unless he had flown with them... it had been a nightly ritual ever since the first time they had followed him, the very first time he had ventured out at night. Be it raining, snowing or clear, he flew regardless. Summer had seemed like an unending hell without them.

He sighed happily as they began emerging from the forest. Almost giddy with relief, he began sporting with them in the skies above the Forest. He seemed to forget himself entirely as they soared around in wild, unbridled abandon.

He was still practically vibrating with delight as they finally broke off nearly half an hour later, returning to their home in the Forest as he flew off. He flew back towards the castle, still savoring the feeling of sheer freedom that always blossomed within him during these flights. His father would find it unseemly that he should enjoy sporting with mere beasts in such a manner, but he didn't care. He would give anything to be as free as they were.

As he approached the castle, he abruptly remembered the whole purpose of finding the invisibility spell. He soared straight over to the Gryffindor owlry. She was there, waiting. She wasn't asleep this time. She was looking out towards him as he approached, as if knowing which direction he would come from.

He slowed as he drew nearer. He got the uneasy feeling she could see him when she continued looking in his direction. He glided to the side several feet and had to stifle a sigh of relief as her eyes remained fixed in the distance. He circled around, gliding in the window and silently setting down.

He must have made a sound as he dismounted the broom, because her head spun around. "Hello?" She called softly.

"Hello..." He whispered, "You came back..."

She flashed a little smile. "So did you... I was wondering when it took so long..."

"I'm sorry... I had... other things I had to do first..." he replied. He leaned his broom up against the nearest column and moved closer to her.

"It's you, isn't it?" She asked, grinning.

"What is me?" he asked curiously, sitting down tailor fashion before her on the edge of her quilt so the stone wouldn't be so hard.

"With the Thestrals..."

"How... how do you know about the Thestrals?" He asked, taken aback.

She smiled. "I can see them... I've been able to see them for a little while now..." She said, a far off, haunted look in her eyes. She glanced back towards the forest in the distance. "The way they fly... all together like that... it's not usual... I asked Hagrid... he said he'd never known them to fly in formation on their own..."

He blinked in surprise, "When did you ask Hagrid?"

"When I first saw them... probably a couple months ago... start of the year... I come out here to watch them... it's you they're following, isn't it?" She asked, looking back over to gaze in his direction.

He had to smile. It was a real smile for a change. She'd been watching him! "Yes... I like flying with them... it helps me forget."

"About her?" She asked delicately.

"About everything." He answered with a sigh. The best lie was ninety percent truth... it was a lot more truth than he usually told, but he was willing to give it a try.

"Is it hard? Being a ghost I mean?"

"Being dead isn't nearly as difficult as being alive... no real pressure while you're just flitting about the grounds... no one telling you what to do... what is expected of you... if only I could stop thinking about it all the time... trying to figure out what I did wrong... what I could have changed, and how things would have been different if I had said this, or done that..." he trailed off, trying to get his father's voice out of his head. How often had he wished he could just die and be done with it? Be as free as he imagined himself to be when he flew at night?

He shifted and her eyes darted down, noting the slight movement on the quilt. She reached out. He didn't pull away, letting her fingers touch his chest. Her eyes went wide and she leaned forward, touching him more firmly, running her hand up, feeling his neck and on up to his cheek.

"You're certainly friendly..." he said softly, letting a little mischievousness into his voice.

She jerked her hand back as she felt his mouth moving as he spoke. "You're... solid! But... ghosts aren't..."

He shrugged, though she only heard a slight rustle of material. "I'm just corporeal... I'm sure I'm not the only one."

"But... how?" She said, confused.

"I don't know... perhaps because I'm invisible... maybe we can only effect one sense at a time... of course I used to be just a disembodied soul adrift... I have only been corporal for a short time now really... so it's all still a bit new... I have longed to fly with the Thestrals again for so long... now I finally can... maybe I am corporeal simply because I have wished it for so very long with all that I am."

"Why would you need to be solid?"

"Do you think I could keep up with a Thestral if I weighed nothing? I just drifted on the breeze..."

"Oh... I see your point..."

He sighed sadly, "I lost much of myself during that dark time... I'm only now starting to regain myself..." He reached out, taking one of her hands in his. Her skin felt so hot... but then he knew he would feel quite cool to her... now that he thought about it, he'd stayed the same temperature since he cast the spell. The winds whipping around him as he flew would have normally chilled him to the bone, but they hadn't. He was really getting to like this spell...

She watched her hand in fascination... seeing nothing, yet feeling his cool fingers exploring her skin... it was quite interesting... She fought a shiver as she felt a cool hand stroke down her cheek. He pulled away.

"I've... never touched someone while... like this... is it uncomfortable?" He asked softly, praying it wasn't. He wouldn't get far with her if his touch gave her the willies... and right now he couldn't think of anything he would like more than to keep touching her...

"No... I mean you feel a little cool... but it isn't... unpleasant... I just didn't expect it..."

"Sorry..." he said contritely.

"Um... that's ok... I mean I don't mind... you can, I just... wasn't expecting it is all." She said, a little embarrassed as she realized she had just given him an open invitation to touch her. "What's your name?"

"Darien." He replied without even needing to think about it. It was an easy decision... his mother had once told him that that was what she had wanted to name him, but his father had wanted him to have a stronger name... had told her that they had already had a Darien in the family, and he had proven how abysmal a Malfoy that name would produce. Yet another reason he liked the name. In fact, ever since she'd told him that during Christmas break of last year, he'd been thinking how much he wished they HAD named him Darien... but his father had insisted he have a name that would one day be feared...

Of course his mother had been pissed half out of her skull when she told him that, but he liked to think it might have been true.

She gave him a little smile. "Well... hello Darien... my name is..."

"Ginny, yes I know..."

She blinked, "How do you know that?"

"Your roommates... tell me... did they actually tack your knickers to the Gryffindor common room mantle?" He asked, stifling a chuckle as best he could.

Her cheeks burnt brightly, and the shadows didn't do anything to hide it from him tonight. "Um... yes... which one was it who planned that one?" She asked, her eyes narrowing shrewdly.

"The one with black hair... don't recall her name..."

Ginny nodded thoughtfully and he could practically see a revenge plan forming in her head. He found her vindictiveness quite alluring. He ran his fingers down her exposed arm. She didn't flinch this time at least.

"What does it feel like? I mean touching me?" She asked curiously.

"You're... very hot..." He said, smirking. She blushed again. "It feels odd... but I like it..." He said softly, shifting his hand up to stroke the milky whiteness of her neck. She shivered, but he was pretty sure it wasn't because she was cold. He smirked again. "It's been so long since I've let anyone near me... let them touch me... and touched them..." He said softly, finding himself fascinated by the feel of her warmth fighting to seep into his cool hands... and by the light flush that crept over her collar bones just above the neckline of her nightshirt, despite the coolness of the night.

"Um... last night... when... I woke... were... um... was it just a kiss...?"

He pulled his hand away and felt a rush of heat in his cheeks, despite the cooling effects of the spell. He didn't know how to answer that one. It was more than a little forward to have been kissing her, let alone what else he'd been doing...

After a long, uneasy pause, she twined a bit of her hair around her finger. "I thought so..."

"Sorry..." He said so softly it was barely audible, even in such close proximity.

She gave him a little shy smile. "I... didn't say I didn't like it..." she said, abashed.

He perked up. Did she just say she liked getting fingered by a ghost??? He shifted up, moving slowly over until his mouth was mere inches from her ear. "Would you like me to do it again?" He asked in a low, sensuous whisper. She shivered as his cool breath caressed her neck.

She opened her mouth a couple of times, but seemed unable to form words.

He settled down beside her, gently brushing a hand over her breast. Her breath caught in her throat. He brought his hand to rest on her breast, cupping it, then started massaging it gently through the thin cloth, watching her face for any sign she wanted him to stop...

None came...

He slipped his hand off her breast. She almost looked disappointed until she felt the tiny tug on her nightgown as he began unbuttoning the neck. Her breathing doubled as he slowly undid the front nearly to her navel. He slipped his hand in, feeling her firm, bare breast with his hand for a moment before lowering his head to it. She let out a gasp as she felt the strangely cool feel of his lips and tongue as they explored her breast eagerly. Her hand came up, finding his head and running her fingers through his hair. He was glad he'd removed the usual gel, letting his hair fall loosely. He'd always preferred the feel of the wind playing freely through his hair. He let out a little groan against her as she twined her fingers in his hair, pressing him closer.

He was content to lick and suckle at her pert breasts for a time, then slowly worked his way back up, licking and nipping until her reached those wonderful, hot lips... He didn't need to beg entrance into her velvety mouth this time... she parted her lips almost immediately and he took full advantage of it, exploring every inch of her mouth, reveling in the unusual sensation of what felt like incredible heat.

After a few moments, she let out a little amused sound. He pulled back, wondering what was so funny. She grinned, "Sorry... it's just... you taste like strawberries... I never thought a ghost would taste like strawberries..."

He smirked. "It's what I last ate... they were always my favorite..." He said, making a mental note to remember to eat strawberries any time he wanted to visit her again... though at the rate they were going he might just accomplish his goal tonight...

He returned to kissing her, silently slipping his hand under the blankets covering her lap. She shivered again as his questing hand found its way inside her knickers. She felt almost burning hot against him.

He felt an almost painful throb in his loins as she moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him. He slowly shifted her around onto her back. He slipped his hand out of her knickers, shifting over to lay on top of her, between her legs.

She gasped as he pressed against her. Even through the blanket she could feel his excitement. "Can... can you really...?" she trailed off, too embarrassed to put it into words.

"I would love nothing more than to give you pleasure... just say the word and I will bring you to heights you've never imagined..." He said in a low, sensuous voice, trailing kisses down her neck.

She let out a whimper, closing her eyes. "I... I don't know..." She broke off with a groan as he pressed closer, "I... really shouldn't..." She said, her voice aching with regret.

"Why not? I certainly won't tell... No one would ever have to know..." He said, his lips caressing her shoulder, sucking gently on the delicate skin.

"I've just... I've never..." She muttered, losing track of what she was saying.

He lifted his head, looking at her in astonishment. "You've never what?" he asked her gently.

She turned beet red and turned her head to the side, staring fixedly away from him, "I've never... been with anyone... not... physically at least..." She admitted, mortified. There was something in her voice... the haunted look returning to her eyes...

"What did he do to you?" he whispered apprehensively.

She closed her eyes and didn't speak.

He pulled back, lifting himself off her and slipping the rest of her blankets back into place as she shivered. He found himself irritatingly unable to go further while she was looking like that. His excitement quickly faded. It was blatantly obvious something had happened to her in the past... He'd never forced himself on a girl... he'd never needed to, nor had he any intention of starting now. His father may have no compunctions against it but, perhaps merely to spite his father, it was one of the rules of being a gentleman that Draco had taken to heart... whether he wanted to or not.

"Darien... please don't leave..." She said achingly as he shifted away.

He settled down on the quilt beside her. "I'm not leaving..." He said gently, brushing away the tear that trickled down her cheek. "What did he do?" he repeated.

She let out a shuddering sign, and lay there in silence so long he wasn't sure she was going to answer. At last she spoke, though it was so softly he had to lean closer to hear. "It was another spirit... but not like you... he lived in a diary... he used it to start controlling me... in the end he came to me... in my dreams... and he... hurt me..."

It was pretty obvious by her tearful tone just HOW he had hurt her... Draco slumped back against the column and pulled his knees up, covering his face with his hands. His head was spinning in a very confusing way... he had nothing to do with it... and yet since it was his father who had placed that diary in her cauldron... pretty much handing her over to Tom Riddle... and he had seen her with the diary... he had recognized it, and yet he had kept silent, knowing who had given it to her. He felt a profound guilt rise up in him. His father had gotten a young girl controlled and mentally raped by some sick, twisted remnant of an even more twisted man.

He didn't understand the horrible aching that started up in his chest... or why he could feel cool trickles of wetness falling down his cheeks. He quickly decided there must be something wrong with the spell... that was the only explanation... he was a Malfoy damn it! He didn't get emotional! Especially about something like this that wasn't even his doing!

He got to his feet abruptly. "You should get some sleep..." He said hurriedly.

She blinked up at the sound of his voice, her face full of surprise. "But... you said you wouldn't leave..." She said, pained.

The strange sensation in his chest grew stronger. "Please just go to bed, Ginny..." he said softly, trying hard to keep the aching out of his voice as he hugged himself.

She got up, pulling one of the blankets around her like a robe. "Darien..." She said sadly, moving forward, holding out her hand until it made contact with him. Her hands drifted up, caressing his cheek. She gave a little gasp of surprise, pulling her hand back and staring at it as she felt the wetness on it.

Draco couldn't handle it... no one had seen him cry since he was four! He ran across the little owlry, grabbing his broom and plunging recklessly out the window. He mounted the broom in midair, but suddenly found the ground rushing towards him strangely mesmerizing... he finally snapped out of it, pulling his broom up, narrowly avoiding smashing straight into the hard cobblestones. He raced along the ground so close he could have drug the tips of his shoes across the grass, darting around the castle to his waiting window.

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