BOTH SIDES NOW

Disclaimer: Anything you see or recognize is not mine


Part Three

"Welcome to the Malfoy Manor." From behind her, a drawling voice spoke.

Ginny spun around, holding her wand out, every reflex and nerve in her body charged and ready to dodge any curse or fire any one of her own.

There stood Malfoy, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed across his chest, his wand visibly sticking out of the pocket of his robes, his demeanor completely casual and blasé.

"I've been expecting you." He said, calmly strolling into the room, ignoring the fact that Ginny still had her wand directly pointed at him.

"I could have come with backup." Ginny pointed out matter-of-factly, standing in the middle of the room, watching Malfoy gracefully take his seat behind the ornate desk.

"I could have killed you on sight." Malfoy smirked, pulling out his wand and pointing it at her before placing it on the desk.

"Why didn't you then?" Ginny asked, still pointing her wand at him, completely mistrusting him.

"I didn't feel like it." Malfoy shrugged, still smirking.

Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes. If Malfoy were not the most wanted and most brutal Deatheater in Britain, she would actually find him rather amusing.

"Look, I didn't come here for chitchat. So let's get down to business-"

Malfoy cut her off, with his gray eyes dancing with mirth and his lips spread into a broad smirk, "My bedroom's just around the corner, Weasley." He gesticulated to the doorway.

Ginny glared at him, moving closer to the desk, her wand still pointing at him, "There was a time when the idea of sleeping with a witch like me made your skin crawl." She reminded him, coldly.

"Times change." Malfoy said, lightly.

"Not for me." Ginny shot back. "Why did you leave me a portkey to bring me here?" She asked.

"I wanted you to see that you were right." Malfoy said simply.

He rose from his chair; still standing on the other side of the table, with a sweeping gesture of his hands he brought her attention to the room. "This is the Malfoy library. It is three feet below the ground, as part of the extensive basement built beneath the Malfoy Manor. No one knows about its existence. This is where I've been living ever since The War."

Ginny looked around at the room, completely awestruck, not just by its enormity, but also by what Malfoy had said. The fact that this library was underground explained the lack of windows.

She was so bowled over by the fact that her suspicions of Malfoy living in his house all these years were confirmed and was so absorbed in studying her surroundings armed with this newly procured knowledge that she did not notice Malfoy walk around his desk and move towards her.

"Now you know how well you know me." He murmured, standing right behind her.

Ginny jumped a mile, the close proximity of his voice as well as his breath on her neck, taking her by surprise. She wheeled around to face him, her grip on her wand firm and unrelenting as she held it out, aimed at his chest, creating some distance between them.

She stared at him. His words rather than his nearness alarmed her. She tried not to show it, tried to remain as impassive as he looked, staring right back at her, those intense gray eyes boring right into her.

"I should go." She said, her chest fluttering with what she assumed to be panic.

Just as she was about to slip her hand into her pocket and touch the rose which would send her back to where she came from, he reached for her and grabbed her hand, his fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist and pulled her flushed against him. She struggled against his manacle grip, her wand poking right into his chest and just before she could open her mouth to shout out a curse or a hex, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Almost immediately, mustering all her strength she wrenched herself away from him, her lips still burning from his kiss. Completely astounded and outraged at what he had just done, she raised her wand and a jet of red light streaked at Malfoy, who turned and was gone in whirl of his robes, only to reappear behind Ginny.

Ginny was completely alert and ready - she spun around shooting a stream of silver light like arrows at him. Malfoy vanished again and reappeared near the desk.

"A fully trained Auror and that's all you're capable of?" He sneered at her.

"You don't seem to be doing much either." Ginny shot back, contemptuously.

Malfoy's face became a blank, cold mask, his gray eyes gleaming as if her words had hit a nerve within him.

He flicked his wand: the force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Ginny was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it and even then she could feel her hair stand on end as it reverberated against the shield.

"You do not wish to kill me, Malfoy?" Ginny mocked him, "Above such brutality, are you?"

"There are so many other ways one can destroy a person." Malfoy murmured, his lips spread into a twisted smile.

"Is that why you kissed me?" She asked, sarcastically.

Malfoy smirked at her, "That was motivated by impulse."

Ginny frowned at him, her wand still pointing at him, while he chose to lean against the table, his wand pointing at the floor. The idea that Malfoy kissed her because he wanted to was hard to swallow.

"I don't believe you." She told him, honestly.

Malfoy shrugged, "I didn't think you would. What if I told you that I am willing to provide the answers to most of your questions? Would you trust me a bit more then?" He asked her. He looked almost earnest as he watched her, waiting for her answer.

Ginny did not know what to think or say anymore. Things were happening too fast for her to comprehend. First she had found out she was right about Malfoy's location, then he had kissed her, then they had dueled and now he was offering her a chance to have all her questions about him, that had been plaguing her the past few years, answered. It was all too much to take in.

"I'd be willing to give it a try." She said hesitantly. The way Ginny saw it, in order to find the answers she was looking for, she had to be open to all possibilities.

Malfoy nodded, somberly. "Fine. Come by for dinner tomorrow. It will be served at seven so don't be late." He stated and walked out of the room, ignoring Ginny who was still standing there gaping at him, completely staggered by the notion of Malfoy inviting her for dinner.


The next day morning, while escorting some Unspeakables to Gringotts, – what their business was she or Tony, her Auror partner, did not know and were not supposed to know - she considered taking herself off the Malfoy case. However, due to a lack of excuse for doing so other than submitting the rose as evidence and confessing to withholding it all this while which would lead to her suspension, she decided otherwise. She did not just love her job, she lived it – it was all she had and she could not afford to lose it.

After all, it was not as if the Malfoy case was going anywhere. A brief discussion with Artie during lunch break proved her point that they were not making any headway on the case.

She had a very grumpy Mad-Eye Moody waiting for her in her office when she got back from her lunch break. She was not surprised by his visit. As consultant to the Auror Department, he dropped by frequently and most of them time he came by her office so that she could fill him in on the latest about her hunt for Malfoy.

He was sitting in the chair by her desk, tapping his staff impatiently on the floor, glaring at the Malfoy Wall of Fame with his magical eye. His long grizzled hair had turned pure white with age but his mind was as agile as ever.

"What's with the tightened the security around here?" He growled, referring to the security check Kingsley, as head of Auror Office, had set up at the entrance of the Magical Law Enforcement Department to ensure no unidentified wizard or witch could get into the Auror Headquarters.

"I thought you of all people would like it." Ginny said, biting back a grin.

"Don't be smart with me, young lady." Moody said, turning his normal eye on Ginny as she sat down behind her desk. "Some Auror tried to stick a probity probe up my arse. I cursed him on the spot of course." Moody said matter-of-factly.

Ginny snorted in amusement. Moody glared at her with his magical eye before it swiveled back to continue glaring at the Malfoy Wall of Fame.

"So how goes the search for Malfoy?" He asked.

Ginny shrugged, "Not very well, I'm afraid."

"Kingsley told me that you're conducting official investigations on him. That should help you to get to him." Moody took a swig from his hip flask.

"Kingsley didn't tell you how it's five days since Malfoy was sighted and we still haven't got a search warrant, has he?" Ginny asked.

Moody nodded, "He mentioned something about the MOM office not being very cooperative regarding the investigations on Malfoy but he said to come to you for the details."

Ginny filled him in on her theory regarding Malfoy's possible whereabouts, Malfoy breaking into her flat, all the obstacles that they were facing regarding the Malfoy case, obviously leaving out the tiny detail that she would be dining with Malfoy himself tonight.

Moody shook his head, his magical eye spinning in all directions, his scarred pitted face contorted in irritation.

"I know it's tough, Weasley, but you must not give up! You have to put Malfoy behind bars in Azaban. That's where he belongs, more so than his father." Moody growled.

He was not done. He fixed both his eyes on Ginny, leaning forward so that he had her full attention, "If left uncaptured, Malfoy has the power and the brilliance to become the next Dark Lord, an even more destructive one than Voldermort at that!" He growled fiercely, banging his staff on the floor at the end for emphasis.

Ginny stared at Moody incredulously. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"You should not be saying that! After all these years of learning all there is to know about him, you should know what he's capable of!" Moody roared before bursting into a coughing fit.

Ginny offered him water, which he customarily refused, taking a gulp from his hip flask. She attempted to placate the old wizard by agreeing with him and promising to never give up the hunt for Malfoy, even though she privately thought that he was becoming even more paranoid in his old age, most likely a symptom of senility.

Ginny had a second visitor that afternoon, shortly after Moody left. It was Harry, having just wrapped up quiddtich practice and been given instructions by her mother to drop by Ginny's office and invite her for dinner at The Burrow tonight.

"What's the occasion?" Ginny asked as he stood in front of the Malfoy Wall of Fame, glancing at the articles she had pinned up.

Harry turned to her, "Nothing really. Ron and Hermione'll be there and so will I-"

Ginny cut him off with a knowing look, "So that's the occasion – you'll be there."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, embarrassedly.

"Can't you tell my mother that we're over, Harry? Maybe if she heard it from you, she'd believe it." Ginny pleaded with him.

"Are you kidding? She might never invite me for dinner ever again." He looked mortified.

Ginny rolled her eyes, frustrated.

"Anyway, she's tried hooking you up with other guys as well so the only reason why she's still harping on me, for you, is because I'm single." Harry pointed out, logically.

"Get a girlfriend, get married, do something then!" Ginny commanded.

Harry stared at her, a bit taken back, "Right. So are you coming to The Burrow tonight, then?" He asked, deciding to change the topic to a safer one.

Ginny shook her head, "I've got an assignment tonight." The lie tasted bitter in her mouth, especially since she was lying to Harry who had been her lover and had always been her good friend.

Biding her farewell and wishing her luck on finding Malfoy, he left.


For the first time in a long time, Ginny was concerned with how she looked. As she stood in front of the mirror, before stepping into the shower, she wished she were prettier. She had never been bothered with her appearance or thought of it as inadequate – all the boys and men she had dated had seemed satisfied with it but none of them were…well, none of them were Malfoy.

Frowning at the disturbing idea of being bothered about what Malfoy thought about her looks, Ginny stepped into the shower, letting the warm water beat down on her, calming her anxious nerves.

It was the kiss, which was insubstantial itself, but it had changed the way she saw Malfoy. Now he was more a man than a deatheater she had to capture.

She was still feeling out-of-sorts when she got to Malfoy Manor using the portkey. She stood in the Malfoy library, taking in the vast expansiveness of it and wishing momentarily that she could get a chance to browse through the enormous collection of books. Then she thought about how Hermione would have a fit if she saw this many books in one place and smiled to herself.

She walked around the huge table and looked closely at the painting hanging on the wall behind it. It was a simple yet beautiful painting of a girl in rich fur lined yellow robes, writing but her face was averted away from the desk, and she smiled, a soft guarded smile at Ginny, before returning to her writing.

"It's a seventeenth century Vermeer – he was a Dutch artist."

Ginny did not turn around, simply continuing to study the impressive painting, the way the colors stood out, fingering her wand in beneath her emerald green dress robes, just in case, as she heard Malfoy approach her.

"I like it." Ginny murmured, appreciatively. She turned around to face Malfoy. He looked as refined and as elegant as ever, in black robes with the white lapels of his shirt beneath sticking out rather fashionably above his robes. His smooth, pale, arrogant face was unreadable as he stared at her.

"He painted some of my ancestors. Let me show you." He held his arm out, expecting her to slip her arm through his, which she found herself doing. She was a guest after all. It was not in her place to fault his customs.

He led her out of the library down the hallway, stopping to point out which painting was done by which famous artist. They lined the walls of the hallway, all were portraits of his paternal ancestors – most of them were pale, blonde and gray eyed and frowned down at her in an intimidating fashion.

Then he led her to the dining room, which was one of immaculate grandeur and great opulence – a long table was in the middle of the room with a huge crystal chandelier consisting of a hundred lit candles hung above it. Paintings adorned the walls of the room. The table, which was spread with rich satin shawls and abutted with matching cushioned seats, was set for two.

A ghost butler, whom Malfoy introduced as Niles, directed them to their seats. Malfoy sat at the head of the table while she sat beside him. Ginny had never felt so nervous and out of place in such ostentatious and sophisticated settings; even the napkins had the Malfoy insignia – an 'M' in bold italic with a serpent entwined around it – scrolled in gold leaf.

If Malfoy noticed her edginess, he did not make any comment as Niles brought in the first course – San Daniele ham and quail egg topped with foie gras pate. He placed the dishes in front of them and left the room.

"You shouldtry thewine." He told her, as soon as they were alone.

Ginny did, not just because he said so but to calm herself. Before doing so though, she checked to make sure her mind was blocked as she was taught during the Occlumency modules all Aurors were made to go through as part of their training, since she knew Malfoy had to be a rather good Legilimens.

"It's good." She said, after taking a sip.

He nodded, then grew serious, "I know you have a lot of questions but before we go into that, I'd like to put down a few rules. Just for tonight, I want you to call me Draco."

Ginny was taken aback by his condition. It was so understated. She nodded, agreeably, "And you'll address me as?" She asked, curious.

"Ginevra." He murmured, staring at her, his gray eyes resembling a lake she could drown in if she was not careful. She looked down at her crystal plate, averting his gaze.

"Second rule: There are some questions I will not be able to answer so don't try and coax it out of me. As for the questions I can answer, I will do so honestly." He promised, looking her straight in the eye, unblinking.

"Fine, then." She muttered, seeing no choice, having come this far.

"You live here alone?" She asked.

He flashed her a smirk, "Easy questions first, eh? Yeah, it's just me, Niles and the house elves."

"How about Parkinson, Goyle and Flint?"

He stopped eating and stared at her, one ends of his lips turned up in what looked to be the beginnings of a smile, "You are as bright as they say you are. I never thought you'd figure that one out."

Ginny tried to fight the blush that threatened to rise up her face, "It's pretty obvious really that you had a hand in their cases." She said modestly.

"Well, you did get Flint wrong. I wouldn't care whether that bastard – pardon my French – died or lived. He was a worthless Deatheater, more interested in killing than anything else. He is a completely aggressive, violent brute who rarely used his brain. A bit like Aunt Bella, I suppose, all out for blood." Draco stated. There was no bitterness, or maliciousness in his voice or in his face. He was being completely matter-of-fact in his contemptuousness about his fellow deatheaters.

"Then how about Parkinson and Goyle?"

"There were friends so I helped them. Besides, they might prove useful in time. They're not in Britain. That's all I can tell you. Goyle stayed here, in the Malfoy Manor, for bit before I made arrangements for him to leave the country. Pansy was overseas all this while. I refused to let her stay here – as far as Pansy's concerned an invitation to reside in this house, would be an invitation into my bed and I had no interest for that." He said bemusedly. Ginny bit back a grin.

"So when she ran out of money, she was too embarrassed to come to me and you know the rest of the story. She wanted to stay in Britain, probably worm her way in here but the investigations launched to look for her was the perfect excuse for me to get her out of the country."

As Ginny watched him eloquently articulate his thoughts, and pick at his food with all the grace of a well brought up member of nobility, she realized he was like no other man she had ever known. He was definitely intelligent and extremely cultured and knowledgeable. He seemed rather practical and pragmatic, very controlled, with no room for weakness or emotional outbursts. Everything he did was calculated and planned.

How then did dinner with an Auror who was tracking him down and in charge of his case fit into his plan? But Ginny did not ask him that, not just yet.

"So can you tell me who is your inside source at the Ministry?"

Draco paused, dabbing his mouth with the napkin. "I'm afraid I can't answer that question. All I can tell you is that I have a few sources at the Ministry. They are scattered all over the Ministry, not concentrated in positions of power only."

Ginny bit her lips, disappointed and even disheartened by the possibility of Draco having more than one inside source. "I suppose you bought them over with money."

"What else?" Draco smirked.

"Aren't you afraid they'll be found out?"

"No." Malfoy stated resolutely, almost arrogantly.

"Why didn't you leave the country as well?" She asked, as their dishes disappeared after they were done and Niles served their second course – seafood bisque.

Once Niles left the room and Draco motioned for Ginny to start eating while he did the same, he began to speak.

"This is my home, my house, my land. All my memories, my ancestors' blood and sweat and magic are here, my life is here. I have traveled now and then during the past few years, in disguise of course, but my home base is here. I know my way around here the best, know the people well, and am relatively safe for the time being." He said, confidently.

"What are your future plans?"

"Nothing tangible at the moment. I'm living life day by day." Somehow Ginny did not believe he was being honest then. A man like him would not be content with living life day to day. There had to be a plan, an end result, something to occupy him, something to motivate him.

"Do you still consider yourself a Deatheater?" She asked him, seriously.

He pondered the question for a while, "No, not really, not anymore."

"Why not?"

"I never liked the fanaticism associated with it."

"Did you believe in the cause? That purebloods are the best?"

"Of course." He answered without hesitation.

"It sounds rather irrational to me."

Draco shook his head, "It's what I was raised to believe and I still believe in it. If we keep inter-marrying and intermingling with mudbloods, we'll be extinct – that's one thing. Another thing is that at the end of the day purebloods are the ones who are most magically predisposed." He said calmly.

Ginny tried to ignore the fact that he had used the word 'mudblood' and rebutted him civilly, "You know that's rubbish, Draco. I know Muggles who are even more clever than any other wizard."

The use of his first name seemed to soften him a bit, as the argument was getting a bit controversial and heated, because he simply shrugged and said rather diplomatically, "You have your beliefs, I have mine."

"Besides, Voldermort was a half-blood and so was Snape." Ginny pointed out, unable to resist the urge to stand up for her viewpoint.

"Maybe that's why they're dead today." He shot back.

Sensing that this argument was getting nowhere, Ginny suggested, "Let's just agree to disagree."

"That's what I said." Draco smirked.

The conversation shifted to more 'serious' issues like quidditch. Since Draco did not get out much, he liked to receive news about what was going on in the outside world from the people who visited him. He seemed to know quite a bit about the progress of certain quidditch teams in the English Quidditch Premier League so Ginny assumed that he had quite a few regular visitors. They had a vigorous discussion about which team was going to win the cup this year as the main course was served – veal schnitzel which was lightly breaded with cranberry cherry sauce and sautéed potatoes.

Then there was a lull in the conversation before Ginny spoke up.

"So basically you've been tracking the progress I was making on my hunt for you, all these years?"

Draco nodded, "Ever since I found out you had taken me on as some sort of special project, I kept an eye on you."

"How did you find out? Your inside sources?"

To Ginny's surprise, Draco shook his head in disagreement, "I didn't have feelers in the Ministry of Magic then. I didn't really see the need. People were still preoccupied with rebuilding, restoring and maintaining peace after the war and I had been presumed dead after all."

"Then one evening, I went up – sometimes I go up to the main part of the house, the part above ground to just walk around and check on the place – well, I saw you, standing outside the gates. I didn't recognize you at first but it was still bright, the sun was still up so I could see you properly…Let's just say the red hair gave you away."

Ginny took a sip of the wine, feeling slight more relaxed as she listened to him talk and as she enjoyed the fine cuisine.

"That's when I started sourcing around for people who could get information for me regarding what was going on in the Ministry and in the outside world. Goyle helped quite a bit to get me trustable contacts who would give me information for my money. In that way I kept tabs on you and the progress you were making. One of my contacts left that note on your desk."

"Why the note? The portkey? The breaking into my flat?" Ginny asked, perplexed. He could not have done it in panic caused by finding out that she knew where he lived since he had the means to stall the advancement of the case.

Draco shrugged, "I'm not really sure." Then he paused, looked her in the eye, with a ghost of smile flickering across his lips, "I found you rather intriguing. Maybe that's why."

Ginny smiled, amusedly. If she were not careful, she could actually allow herself to be completely taken withhim. She wished she could go somewhere far away from Draco Malfoy, just so that she could stop the mad fluttering sensation in her chest she felt when she looked at him.

"So you invited me to dinner because I'm intriguing?"

"It does get pretty boring and lonely down here so I thought you'd make an interesting dinner companion." Draco acknowledged.

"Not to make me one of your inside sources at the Ministry?" Ginny asked, warily.

Draco gave an incredulous look coupled with an amused smirk, "With you? A moralistic Gryffindor Auror? I would never be able to pull that off." The contempt in his voice was evident and it irritated Ginny.

"I don't see anything wrong with being a moralistic Gryffindor Auror? It's much better than being a cold blooded Slytherin Deatheater." She spat out.

Draco stared at her intently, making her feel extremely vulnerable and slightly embarrassed about having such an emotional outburst of annoyance in front of a completely composed Draco Malfoy.

"You should not wear your heart on your sleeve all the time, Ginevra. You will get hurt easily." He told her, a certain gravity in his words.

Ginny did not know what to say to that. They finished their meal in a comfortable silence before adjoining to the drawing room for desert and drinks.

The drawing room was done in the usual grandiose manner, as was expected for any room in the Malfoy Manor, with paintings adorning the walls, sculptures on the shelves, an opulent sofa set surrounding a coffee table and a lavishly ornate fireplace with a warm fire crackling in it as it did get pretty chilly down here, since it was underground.

From what Ginny had observed, the Malfoy Manor did not seem as gloomy and repressive as 12 Grimmauld Place had been before Harry moved in and did it up. There were no elf heads hung on the walls, no tables with troll legs supporting them. Malfoy Manor seemed rather tastefully done up even though it was the home of generations of the darkest of wizards.

Ginny sat on the velvet couch while Draco made himself comfortable on a matching velvet armchair across the coffee table from her. He sat in the armchair like he owned every inch of it, one leg draped over the arm, exuding casual classiness that was solely his.

Ginny crossed her legs, aware of Draco's scrutinizing gaze on her, taking in her hair that she had let loose, its waves framing her face, her two pearl drop earrings and the chiffon emerald dress robes she was wearing.

Pince appeared then with desert – cheese dumplings with an apricot filling with stewed fruit and cinnamon.

While Draco helped him to more elf-wine, Ginny conjured up a mug of hot cocoa for herself.

"Can I see it?" She asked, suddenly. He looked at her and then seemed to know what exactly she was referring to.

"I'm sure you've seen it countless times." He told her.

She shrugged, sipping her hot cocoa, "Yes, I have but…." She trailed off when what she really wanted to say was I have not seen it on you.

He seemed to understand because he rose from his seat, came and sat beside her on the couch. This close to him, she could smell his aftershave, his musky masculine odor and knew she would remember this unique scent for a long time.

He undid his cuffs and rolled up his shirtsleeves and there on his left forearm was the Dark Mark. She stared at it, the dark mark contrasting against his pale skin.

"I think it's stupid." Draco muttered, harshly.

Ginny looked up at him, startled. "What do you mean?"

"By branding his followers just to ensure that they return to him every time he called them indicated that Voldermort was aware that their loyalty to him was precarious at best. Unlike Dumbledore, who could make even me, think twice about killing him."

"So you think Dumbledore is better than Voldermort?" Ginny asked, interested.

"No, they both have their strengths and weaknesses." He commented judiciously.

"If you didn't like Voldermort and the way his Deatheaters operated, why did you stay a Deatheater?" Ginny asked.

"I believe in his cause." Draco answered, simply.

Ginny nodded; feeling unexpectedly dejected about the gaping chasm between their ideals.

She glanced down at the Dark mark on his forearm and almost as if she was magnetized to it, as if she could not help it, she found her hand moving towards his arm and her fingers touching the mark gingerly. She heard him draw in his breath sharply as she traced the imprint of the mark on his skin with her fingertip.

She felt his hot breath in her ear as he murmured, huskily, "Would you hex me, this time, if I kissed you?"

She looked up at him, startled by his question and how close his face was to hers – she could see the pale hairs above his upper lip, she could see the barely visible scars on his face and neck, probably from The War.

She thought about all the people he had killed, some of them whom she knew and cared about – Colin Creevy, Susan Bones and so many more. She thought about how he had kicked Harry in the face and left him to lie, defenseless, in the Hogwarts Express during his sixth year. She thought about all his insults, his mean ploys against her brother, Harry, Hermione and even herself.

She thought about all that and she saw him for the man he was – the blood in his hands, the darkness that swirled about him, the heart that might be made of stone, the forearm branded by an evil wizard – and she knew with sudden, crystal clear, clarity that she wanted him.

"I think I can try to keep my hands off my wand." She murmured, smiling coyly up at him.

He smirked, bending his head towards hers, so she could feel his breath against her lips, right before his lips touched hers. For someone reputed to be brutal and cold to the core, the kiss he bestowed on her was anything but that.It was soft, slow and filled with tremendous tenderness. Ginny never would have thought a man like him could kiss her like that.

When he kissed her she thought about a lamb lying beside a lion, peacefully. When he touched her, his touch like petals raining on her skin, she saw an oasis in the middle of a desert, green and fresh. When he entwined his fingers into her hair, running his fingertips against her fiery strands of hair, she imagined a dozen white doves taking off into the air, the fluttering of their wings like her heart in her chest.

As he broke away from her, his lips leaving hers, she let out an involuntary sigh of longing. Draco did not smirk at her, as she had expected him to. Instead he stared at her, the expression on his face indecipherable save for his grey eyes that had become pools of mercury.

"I think you should go." He said, quietly.

Ginny wondered why he was pushing her away all of a sudden, after sharing so much about himself with her, after kissing her in such a heartfelt manner.

Instead, she said, "I think that's a good idea." She stood up, abruptly.

He rose as well. "Goodnight." He murmured, before leaning down to plant the gentlest of kisses on her cheek, almost like a wisp of a breeze.

She smiled at him, a hesitant smile filled with uncertainty, before slipping her hand into her pocket and touching the petals of the rose.

TBC


A/N: PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK..THANK YOU.