Chapter Seven: An Understanding

She just sat there for the rest of the day. It couldn't be. Malfoy couldn't be the one who had helped her. Malfoy couldn't be the one who had sat with her and understood. Why would he do that? She may not have known who he was, but there was no way he hadn't recognized her. If anyone in the school understood, she supposed, it would be him. If anyone knew what it was like to deal with inner darkness it must be him. But why would he help her?

WHY HAD SHE GONE OFF ON HIM! Oh, why had she told him all that she had? She had told him everything, well, if he had understood it. She had told him she wanted to stop hating him, forgive him, give him a chance. And she had told him she could not. What was she going to do now? Even if she did manage to get to the point where she could give him a chance she'd be last person he'd accept it from now. He probably hated her more than ever. She had ruined everything.

This time people noticed there was something wrong. This time her brother asked her what was wrong every time he saw her. This time 'Mi tried to act like her best friend whom she told everything. This time even Harry tried to whittle it out of her. She told them she missed Dare. She told them she almost regretted moving up a year. She told she was tired. She told them she was worried about the war. She told them everything but the truth and they picked now of all times to realize that. Little did she know that she would be grateful for this eventually.

Even Snape realized something was wrong with the female Weasley. He, however, did not say anything. Instead, he watched. What he saw was of great interest to him. Malfoy had been acting strangely lately as well and it did not take long to note the glances they threw each other across the dungeon during class or the great hall during meals. Somehow they always managed to miss each other and never locked eyes. That was even more interesting. Something had happened between them and he was curious. It was obvious neither fancied the other, nor were they ashamed of whatever happened, rather they appeared to be confused, as though they finally seeing the other after years of only seeing a mask. Again, it was obvious there was no romance, there was barely tolerance. It seemed as though each had somehow become the catalyst of the others examination of self. Interesting indeed. He almost felt sorry for the girl, her friends were obviously clueless, and he always felt sorry for the boy, he had no friends.

By the time Hallowe'en arrived Ginevra was through. She had finally ceased to hate Malfoy. She didn't know when it had happened or why, but the hate was gone. She didn't like the guy, he was still annoying and aggravating, but the hate was gone. The problem was that she didn't know what to do now. This was supposed the part where she began acting civil toward him, slowly broke down the hostility, but she could barely look at him, preferring to leave the room as quickly as possible if she found he was in it as well. She was convinced he hated her more than ever. She was convinced that if she began being civil to him he would see it as nothing more than charity, an impersonal fulfillment of her ideals. What was worse was that she wasn't sure she could see it as anything else either. She really was ready to give up on the whole thing. The whispers of darkness in the back of her mind were so strong. No matter how far she managed to go she would never reach the end. She decided to skip the Hallowe'en feast and headed toward the tower. Why she did this she didn't know, not really. Every time she went up there now Malfoy was sure to show. But he would be at the feast, surely. Besides, she wouldn't be up there long.

Once again Draco found himself unable to concentrate on the matter at hand. It was that blasted weasel again. He had actually begun to wonder whether or not she would be able to forgive him and give him a chance if he helped a little, if he acted as if he wanted one. It had something to do with what she said about shades of grey still being absolute. There was just something about her convictions that he didn't see in anyone else. Something about the way she was so desperate to live what she claimed to believe that made him think that maybe there was something to being good after all. But if that is what it does to you, drives you insane as she clearly was, why would he want it? He didn't. He had no desire for good. But there was something about her. For some reason it was important to him that she remain good, that she survive the darkness. It wasn't about hope for him anymore, if it ever had been. She was pure. He didn't know how. She was obviously tainted by Tom. There was clearly darkness within her. She was not innocent. But somehow, she was pure. He was not. He never had been. Even if he completely lost his mind and became "good" he could never change his past. Even the 'golden trio' wasn't pure, they had their petty hatreds, their judgments. But somehow if Ginevra remained pure it didn't matter, nothing else mattered. Who won or lost the war didn't matter, so long as the only thing the world that was truly pure remained so. But she was so weak. She was so fragile. She could break at any time and her families protection could be what broke her. He was the only one who understood how to handle her, wasn't he? There was Dare, but he had been forced to leave. Wait, did he just think that he knew how to handle her, help her, protect her? Then what was he doing here?

Draco ran out of the Room of Requirement, The Dark Lord's orders forgotten. He entered the Great Hall as surruptisously as possible. He scanned the Gryffindor table. She wasn't there. Where would she be? The tower! He almost began to panic. Even those pathetic gits that called themselves her friends had noticed she was acting withdrawn, and that meant something was terribly wrong, even more so than when he found in... He couldn't think about that, he just had to get to the tower.

Snape sat at the head table watching the feast. He had noticed the female Weasley's absence and had contemplated making sure she was all right when Malfoy slid into the hall and ducked out again rather quickly. No need to find the girl now, someone else was doing that for him. As much as he hated to admit it, he had taken a liking to the girl. She wasn't at all like the other Gryffindors. She better be all right.

Malfoy made his way to the tower as quickly as he possibly could. He climbed the bit quietly, not really sure why. When he reached the top he knew. She was standing in one of the openings, arms spread wide, face up, eyes closed, facing out. She began to move. She was moving forward, not back. He acted on instinct. His arms grabbed her around the waist and he pulled her in. She all but screamed. She kicked and hit and turned and tried to attack, tried nothing, but he had her down, that was all that mattered. They scuffled a bit and finally settled with him sitting on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

"How dare you!" Her voice had more ice in it than he had ever imagined. He nearly winced. "What right have you to come up here and..."

"And save your life?" He interrupted her. She screamed. And then she cried. He released her and sat against the wall. She scooted to the opposite wall.

"What do you care?" She strangled out between silent sobs.

"You're the only one who tried to care about me."

She turned away from him. He could barely hear her tell the wall, "But I only tried, I failed."

"Doesn't matter. You had every right to hate me, I made sure of that. Tried is enough for me."

Something happened. They had reached an understanding somehow. She cared. So did he. Neither had to say a thing.

She looked over her shoulder at him. Her face was stained with tears. "I may not hate you anymore, but I don't like you either."

He laughed. "Who said I wanted you to like me? I just don't want the only one in the place with enough brains to best me at a game of wits to through herself off the tower before I can even the score."

She nodded. They climbed down from the tower. When they were in the corridor again she turned to him. "I'll help you, if you want me to."

He nodded. "I know." Another agreement had been made. He knew where she stood, and she wouldn't press the issue any further. They weren't exactly friends, but they respected each other.

They made their way to the feast. She stopped off at a girl's toilet to wash her face and straighten her robes. He went on ahead so there was distance between their arrivals. Snape smiled into his pumpkin juice when the girl entered. So they had reached a truce. It should be interesting to see what effect this had on the boy.