Special thanks to:

blondiluvbanana- Yes...I must admit I'm a sucker for an anti-hero Draco...thanks for the review!

louey31-Yes, Draco may find himself frequently baffled by a certain Weasley, it's just good for his ego that he realize that not every girl will fall over herself trying to please him.

HyperSquishy- I'm glad you think so. Yes, Draco's motives are hardly what we'd hope/want them to be (or would we?) and I definitely think it's safe to say that what he needs to tell her leads to some interesting...stuff.

Disclaimer: Do not own anything except for possibly my tracking spell and my polo shirt that I'm wearing (no the collar is not popped)

Please review because I put a ton of time into this chapter and it's really encouraging to get reviews...plus this chapter is insanely long etc.

"What do you want to talk about Malfoy?" Ginny asked, her tone casual.

"Not here," he replied, "Come on, let's go down to the dungeons."

Ginny frowned, but Malfoy had just saved her.

She followed him down a side corridor into the dungeons; they were a seeming labyrinth of passages. He finally stopped in front of a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"Pure blood supremacy," he said with a smirk.

The concealed stone door slid open. Malfoy marched through the doorway, but Ginny hesitated.

For some stupid reason, or so she told herself, she felt that by crossing the Slytherin threshold she would be committing the ultimate act of betrayal, entirely turning her back on her Gryffindor roots, on her friends and family. Yet why not? One corner of her mind argued persuasively- had they not already spurned her- they had betrayed her in an hour of need, could anyone blame her for reciprocating?

"Come on," Malfoy snapped.

She shrugged and crossed the threshold.

The Slytherin common room was a long underground room, the walls and ceiling were stone and on the whole it left something to be desired. Ginny thought longingly of the bright and cheery Gryffindor common room. She noticed a fireplace with an elaborate mantelpiece around which high-backed chairs were arranged.

"Hurry up Weasley," Malfoy sighed.

She noticed many Slytherins eyeing her with only a tinge of vapid curiosity. None seemed shocked to see the red-haired Gryffindor in their common room.

Malfoy motioned to a spiral staircase, which he proceeded to mount. Déjà vu hit Ginny as she watched him ascend the stairs. Had it been only four days ago that she and Malfoy had found themselves mounting similar stairs only to be caught and falsely accused of a ridiculous crime? She climbed the stairs and followed Malfoy who stopped before a room marked – "Draco Malfoy's – Keep Out!"

She scoffed at the sign; it seemed all too apt for Malfoy.

The room elicited a grudging gasp of astonishment. The only dorms she'd seen –her own, Hermione's, Harry and Ron's - they'd all been very uniform, and she'd assumed that everyone had such dorms. This room was a far cry from the slightly cramped, messy dorm she had shared with the girls in her year for the last five years.

First of all, it contained only one bed, and the bed was huge. Even Ginny had to admit the room was tastefully decorated, and considering the color scheme- silver and green- that had probably not been an easy task. He had a personal fireplace, a large desk, a leather couch, and Ginny spied a door opening into what seemed to be a bathroom, and she would have bet her last sickle it was gigantic as well. The most remarkable thing may well have been how immaculate it was.

"Well Weasley are you going to come in or just stand and gape?"

Ginny's eyes widened, going alone into a room with only Malfoy seemed like a bad idea.

"Just need to talk," Malfoy said, astutely.

What the hell? Ginny thought, if he tried anything funny, she could always hex him six ways from Sunday.

She entered the room. Malfoy immediately locked the door, to which Ginny cocked a brow.

"It's rather private," he said by way of explanation. He sprawled carelessly on his enormous bed, "Come on, sit."

Ginny obeyed him, perching cautiously on the edge of the bed.

"What?" Ginny said, amazed that she was sitting her in Draco Malfoy's bedroom, on his bed, talking casually, and him a Death Eater no less!"

Draco was lazing on his elbows and seemed to ooze self-confidence.

"Weasel, we have to talk about the situation," he said.

"Situation? Malfoy I was not aware there was a situation," Ginny replied.

Malfoy's eyes cut in her direction; she looked so out of place- the lion in the snake's lair.

"Weasley don't play stupid," he drawled, "Although it may just be a hereditary disease, like that awful red-hair and those damn freckles."

Ginny clenched her fists, she did not have to stay here and listen to this. "Malfoy I'm leaving," she said, getting up.

"Sit down Weasel," Malfoy said laconically, he smiled slightly, "I guess what they say about red-heads is true."

Ginny maintained her position by the door.

Malfoy rolled onto his side, looking at her, "Look Weasley, if you leave you'll find yourself absolutely alone. Surely you've noticed how nice, well at least nice for them, the Slytherins have been? Guess who told them to behave that way- you go out that door; they won't be nice any more."

Ginny hesitated, torn.

"Why'd I even bother?" Malfoy said disgusted, "I should have known you're prejudice against us Slytherins, you always take the high road, you Gryffindors, you act all high and mighty, but the truth is you're just as bad as us!"

Ginny was incensed, she considered herself to be a very fair person. How dare Malfoy- of all people, insinuate that she was prejudice like himself? If she left she'd just prove that to him, so she had no choice but to retreat back to the bed.

"That's better, now as I was saying, we have a situation on our hands. I dunno how it's been for you, but I'm sure it's worse than what I'm going through."

Startled by what she deemed to be a true attempt at compassion, Ginny turned to Malfoy.

"It has been bad," she admitted, "I...I feel like an intruder, like I don't belong near the other Gryffindors."

Why was she admitting to Malfoy something that she had trouble admitting to herself Ginny wondered. Her mind screamed 'He's a Death Eater!'

"Maybe I was wrong," Malfoy said thoughtfully, "You seem to be getting more like us every day."

"That's not a compliment you know!" Ginny declared angrily.

Malfoy shrugged, "Must be my old Slytherin ineptitude kicking in."

Ginny laughed, almost hysterically, at a remark that was hardly funny. 'I must be cracking up,' she thought. All of a sudden it seemed so hilarious-her and Malfoy engaging in a semi-decent, quasi-normal conversation in his room, after she had been publicly humiliated, and (temporarily) disbarred by her family and friends. All because she had fallen asleep once or twice in Transfiguration.

"All right there Weasel?" Malfoy said, looking rather alarmed.

"I'm fine," she replied.

Suddenly she saw something long and green slither out from underneath the bed.

She shrieked, clutching Malfoy, "What is that?"

Draco winced and hissed in pain, she was grabbing him right where the thorn was. The snake that Ginny had been screaming about was only old Salazar, he'd been living here in the dungeons for ages.

Ginny looked at Malfoy, "What's wrong?"

"The thorn, I never bothered to take it out of my arm," Malfoy mumbled.

Ginny looked horrified, "You mean you haven't gotten it removed, why didn't you go to the infirmary?"

"And let Madam Pomfrey see my Dark Mark?" Malfoy sneered. "Besides," he shrugged, "It doesn't hurt that much."

"So you're just planning on leaving it in there?" Ginny asked doubtfully.

"I don't see you offering to pull it out," Malfoy snapped.

"Fine."

"Fine- what?" Malfoy said.

"Fine I'll take the thorn out of your arm," Ginny responded.

"You will?" Malfoy echoed unwittingly.

"I said yes," Ginny said shortly.

Malfoy began taking his shirt off.

"What are you doing? I thought you said we were just gonna talk Malfoy," Ginny said going red.

"You're a prude –aren't you?" Malfoy said, flinging his shirt on the floor.

"What?" Ginny squeaked, her voice embarrassingly a few decibels above average, "Just because you suddenly taking your shirt off freaks me out doesn't make me a prude. In fact I'd go so far as to suggest it means I'm normal!"

"Hey Weasel, don't get all huffy and whatnot on me," Malfoy said smirking, "Just because you're prude and easily flustered near gorgeous guys doesn't mean I'm gonna de-prude you. Here's the thorn," He motioned to his right forearm.

"Right," Ginny said, trying to rein her thoughts back to the task at hand, and away from Malfoy's torso. "OK."

She kneeled on the bed next to Malfoy. She glanced up into his eyes and was shocked to see a trace in those steel gray eyes. She gently took his right arm in her hands, her eyes immediately drawn to the Dark Mark.

Malfoy smirked at her, "Want one?"

Ginny glared at him, "Malfoy I'm warning you..."

Her eyes trailed to the thorn, she shuttered. "Oh Malfoy, how could you have possibly lived with this in your arm!"

It truly looked dreadful, the area around the thorn that had been a sickly green before was now black, and a nasty pus oozed from it. The thorn itself was huge, the size of her fist perhaps.

Malfoy shrugged, "It didn't hurt that much," he lied.

Ginny rolled her eyes and grasped the end of the thorn.

Malfoy inhaled sharply, his face instantly contorting in pain.

"Didn't hurt much?" Ginny scoffed gently.

Malfoy scowled at her. Ginny slowly, painstakingly, pulled at the thorn."

Unbidden, tears came to Malfoy's eyes he angrily brushed them away. Pus poured from the wound, and Ginny frowned, this wasn't going to work well, the thorn had barely budged, yet it was obviously causing Malfoy pain. She licked her suddenly dry lips and glanced up at Malfoy. He looked so gorgeous, so striking. Belatedly she realized they were moving towards each other. Her heart was suddenly in her throat. Were they going to? Surely not.

Their lips met gently and Ginny found she was trembling. Malfoy's arms encircled her, and she was suddenly pushed up against him. Her grip on the thorn tightened and Malfoy gasped against her lips. She in turn smirked, his tongue darting into her mouth. It was a searing, bruising kiss, and unwillingly Ginny melted into his arms. She experienced a sensory overload, the musky, masculine smell of Draco's cologne, the way her spine tingled at his touch, his gentle fingers caressing her chest. His lips against her own, his warm breath on her neck. Her mind quit working and she didn't care.

Suddenly they broke apart, panting. Draco's hair was mussed delightfully, his pale cheeks tinged with pink, and his jeans, Ginny was mortified to notice, were unbuttoned-had she done that? Her fragmented mind brought forth a memory of her clumsily undoing the buttons, and pulling down the zipper. Ginny looked down at herself and blushed scarlet, her shirt was unbuttoned and her bra clearly displayed, another memory of Draco fumbling with the buttons, as she pushed up against him. Oh God! Her skirt too was bunched up at her thigh. A memory surfaced of Draco – no! Malfoy caressing her inner thigh and she groaning against his lips.

"Hey what happened to the thorn?" Malfoy asked, tearing her from her thoughts.

Ginny glanced at his arm; sure enough, she noticed it was gone. Then she raised her hand, she had been clutching it unknowingly.

"I must have pulled it out when..." she blushed madly, and refused to continue.

"Imagine what dear Potter would say if he heard that his little Weasel snogged bad old Malfoy, "he said sneering.

Harry. "You wouldn't," Ginny hissed.

"Wouldn't I?" Malfoy challenged.

"Hello Draco, Ginny, it is good to see you both well," a voice suddenly said.

Ginny screamed, looking around in confusion. The voice was coming from the fire, where Dumbledore's head was currently visible.

Belatedly, Ginny realized how she was dressed, and she began buttoning her blouse, flushing to her roots in embarrassment.

"Headmaster," Malfoy said slowly, his eyes narrowing. He too quickly slipped on his shirt.

"I must request your presence, both of you, in my office as soon as possible. I enjoy Mars Bars." Then as suddenly as it appeared, Dumbledore's head vanished.

Ginny continued buttoning her shirt.

"Need some help," Malfoy said smirking.

"NO!" She snapped.

They stood up, Ginny hastily straightening her skirt.

"Let's go," Malfoy said.

"Umm..." Ginny said, "Your zipper," she finally managed- her face beet-red.

Malfoy smirked as he zipped his pants, "Horny little one, aren't we?"

"Shut up Malfoy, I'm warning you!"

They left the room, passing through the common room in turn. Ginny wondered if it was obvious what they'd been up to- her skirt and blouse were wrinkled, Malfoy's hair was mussed, and their lips swollen.

They said the password (Mars Bars) and entered Dumbledore's office.

"Welcome," Dumbledore said. He sat at his desk, hands folded neatly. "Now I've heard much about the two of you and I must say it's surprising."

"Professor? Surely you don't believe it do you?" Ginny asked urgently.

"Yes Ms. Weasley, I'm afraid I have no choice but to believe Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall over the two of you. However, Ms. Weasley, your dorm mates have expressed concerns about sharing a room with you. Now Mr. Malfoy do you think that Ms. Weasley could stay in your House?"

"Sure, that is if you want to Weasley?"

"Oh...I don't care."

"Very well, then it's settle," Dumbledore flicked his wand, "Ms. Weasley I have transferred all your belongings to a new room, I would advise you to not enter Gryffindor's house as that will be considered trespassing henceforth. Well I believe that is all..."

"Professor," Ginny cried, "I'm innocent, I'm innocent."

"Ms. Weasley," Dumbledore said sternly, "It would be prudent for you to leave. I trust Mr. Malfoy that you will take care of her."

"No!" Ginny cried, running from the room.

Malfoy hesitated then took off after her.

"Ms. Weasley," Dumbledore said, to an empty room, "Of course you are innocent, but like it or not, you're already too involved, and I fear your role in this is just beginning."