And here we go with a very fast update! Ya'll should love me for that. But I was so excited about this chapter; even I was curious to see what was going to happen. You should know that I was busy writing this chapterin every spare moment I had, and I got about zero real work done because of it. And it's a more normal-length chapter, though still not as long as I like. However, it is much longer than the last chapter. Sorry that one was so short; it's the shortest I've ever posted. So read this one ane enjoy!

Oh, and kudos to QueenThayet for giving me my 100th review! And thank you to ALL of you who have reviewed. I read each one of them and love them all, so thank you for giving me this many. You guys rock!

Dislcaimer: Nothing you see here do I own.

Chapter 24: What Lies Inside

As Draco watched his father step out of the fireplace, a cold chill swept over him. The chill wasn't brought on by fear, though.

It was because of anger.

Lucius Malfoy strode quickly across the room, the green flames of the Floo powder dying behind him. His wand was pulled out and, flicking it, Lucius lit the candles on the wall to provide some light; he left the fireplace empty. Draco drew his wand and watched his father warily, waiting for him to do something. Lucius had yet to acknowledge Draco; a fierce look of determination was etched on the man's face.

Blaise Zabini stirred in his bed, his head lifting slightly from the pillow. When he caught sight of Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's known henchman, in his room, Blaise shot out of his bed and stood against the wall. Though Blaise was doing his best to hide his fear, Draco could plainly see that the boy was afraid.

"Out!" Lucius snarled. "Everybody out!" Crabbe's snores stopped suddenly and the colossal boy fell out of bed; the room shook with the impact. Goyle sat up lazily and looked around. Clearly the fact that Lucius Malfoy was in his room was not registering in his mind.

"Everybody, that is," said Lucius dangerously quietly, "except for Draco."

Goyle turned his head towards the voice. His eyes widened upon seeing the tall man that was standing only a few feet away. With one terrific leap, Blaise dodged passed his bed and darted out of the room, Crabbe only a few steps behind. Goyle was still struggling to get out of bed, but soon the boy was gone too.

Draco stood silently. He had no idea what his father was doing at Hogwarts especially at this time of night, but he knew the reason could not be good. Draco tightened his grip on his wand and moved a step back from his father.

Lucius, still ignoring Draco, locked the door with another wave of his wand. Draco noted with slight anxiety that his father placed a silencing spell on the room so that nobody outside could hear them. When Lucius was done, he stood facing the door, his back to Draco. He then placed his hands behind his back and swirled around to face his son.

"How are you, Draco?" he asked stiffly, but calmly.

Draco stood shocked. For one, his mind was still reeling with the events that had taken place in his room all in less than two minutes. Also, his father had never before asked how he was doing. What was up? There must be something his father wanted…he wouldn't come all the way to Hogwarts in the middle of the night to ask how he was doing.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked coldly. He shifted his position, his body tight.

"You haven't been answering my letters," Lucius said. He walked closer to his son, whose wand hand tensed.

"I didn't think a reply was expected," Draco answered, narrowing his eyes. "What are you doing here?" he repeated.

"Perhaps I might explain just how important an event the Dark Lord coming to visit us is," Lucius said, his voice getting quieter with each syllable spoken.

"There's no need to explain," Draco said icily. Lucius's face froze as he was interrupted. "You've already made it crystal clear how much you want me to become a Death Eater and you've certainly made it clear how much you want me to kiss his feet just like you do," Draco said quietly, his voice quavering with distaste. "No, there's no need to explain to me 'just how important' the Dark Lord's visit is; you've made it clear to me that he's the most important thing in your life by ruining mine."

Silence ensued. Lucius was breathing heavily through his nose, obviously struggling to control his temper; a vein on his neck popped rhythmically. Draco waited with bated breath for the explosion that was sure to come; it always did, sooner or later.

"Your impertinence is disturbing, Draco," Lucius finally choked out. "Let me assure you that when you serve the Dark Lord, submission is key."

"Key to what?" Draco sneered. "Key to living or key to becoming his greatest flunky? Hmm? You tell me, father," sarcasm was laced in every syllable that Draco spoke. He knew that Lucius's hold on his temper wasn't going to last much longer. Indeed, he had pushed his father's temper over the edge one too many times; he had scars to prove it. However, at the moment, all Draco could see was the pain on his mother's face as she struggled to give him that glass orb all those years ago; all Draco could see were the countless faces of innocent people that Lucius had tortured; all Draco could see was the face of an eleven year old, red-headed girl as she unknowingly opened a diary that would change her life forever.

And all Draco knew was that he never wanted to be the person to cause any of that pain.

Ever.

"Why you little -" snarled Lucius, stepping forward, but he stopped when a wand tip quavered to a stop mere inches from his nose.

"What are you going to do this time," Draco breathed. "Curse me again? You wouldn't dare harm the prize you're hoping to present to Voldemort, would you."

Lucius flinched when Draco spoke Voldemort's name. "You would do well to not speak our master's name," he said, composing himself. He pushed his son's wand out of his face and took another step forward, only to stop when Draco pointed the wand back in his face.

"He's your master," Draco said, not knowing where his new-found boldness came from. "You forget that I've yet to become a Death Eater. I have no master."

If possible, Lucius became even more enraged. His face grew pale and the vein on his neck ceased popping, a dangerous sign. The man's face became still and the corner of his top lip curled up slowly. Draco watched closely, his chest heaving, waiting for his father to make his move.

Lucius took one step to the left, and Draco stepped to the right.

"That will soon change, son," Lucius spat. They kept circling each other slowly, never breaking eye contact. "You will become a Death Eater perhaps sooner than you think."

"And so that is the reason that you came here," Draco said quietly. "To tell me that I will become a Death Eater. Well, father, let me assure you that you have successfully wasted your time, because you've also made it perfectly clear that I have no choice in this matter."

Lucius stopped walking and Draco's wand lowered slightly. With his eyes still locked on Draco, Lucius smirked. Draco clenched his jaw, hating the fact that he was giving his father the satisfaction of knowing that he was overpowering his son. He knew though that he had to make Lucius sure that Draco was going to become a Death Eater; there'd be no hope of saving his mother otherwise. Already Draco had probably done more damage than good tonight by provoking his father, but tempers were a nasty thing to train.

"I am glad that you've finally come around," Lucius said, smoothing back his hair. "You see, Draco, I didn't come here merely to reassure myself of your commitment to this task," Lucius fingered his wand. "I came here to reassure you.

"Crucio!" Lucius shouted.

Before Draco could move out of the way, a jet of light slammed into his chest and he dropped to his knees in pain. This time, however, Draco was able to keep consciousness and was aware of his surroundings. In particular, he noticed the feel of his wand tightly clutched in his right hand; he could almost feel every grain of wood in it. Another thing he noticed almost surreally was the form of his father grinning madly above him. With his head bowed, Draco could barely see him since only his eyes would move. He bent over even further when another wave of pain hit him. Gritting his teeth, he willed his head to move up, to face his father and defy him.

A memory of the first time Draco had experienced the Cruciatus curse hit Draco, almost causing him to forget the pain he was feeling.

Almost.

He had been five when Lucius had first called Draco into his office. Draco had unknowingly walked into a room that he'd come to hate almost as much as the man in it. Lucius had started talking about Death Eaters and the importance of being one; he had even shown Draco the Dark Mark on his arm. Draco had been repulsed by both the Dark Mark and the very graphic things Lucius told him about the "joys" of serving the Dark Lord, who was merely in hiding and would soon come back to regain his control of the world. When Draco had shown that repulsion, Lucius had flown into one of his fits and didn't cease to pull out his wand. Draco had screamed that day as he never had before; being inexperienced to the pain only made the curse harder to bear. And indeed, Draco hadn't had to endure it too long, for he had passed out. He had awoken many hours later in the dark of his room with nobody to wipe away the tears on his cheeks and only the silence as comfort.

"No!" Draco roared, struggling to his feet. The sight of his five-year old self crying in the dark and the knowledge that if his father hadn't cursed his mother as well, she'd have been there to comfort him haunted him; even those simple childhood delicacies had been deprived of him.

Draco felt the pain recede as Lucius stumbled backwards, shock on his face. Never in all these years had Draco ever thrown off the Cruciatus curse. True, he had never had as much incentive as he did now, but he had never before shown such strength.

"How -" began Lucius but he was suddenly slammed against the wall by an invisible force and again the room shook with the impact. Draco had his wand raised now, pointing straight at Lucius. Draco's hair was disheveled and his mouth was open wide, sucking in grateful breaths; his eyes shown brightly with a newfound sense of determination.

"No more!" Draco shouted again roughly. "Enough!" Lucius was still pinned against the wall, spread-eagled; his head was flat against the wall and a trail of blood was working its way out of the corner of his mouth. Lucius's eyes were wide with a mix of awe, fear, and loathing.

With a few quick steps, Draco was standing right in front of his father, staring at him with both hatred and a distinct bit of derangement on his face. "What are you going to do now, father?" Draco said quietly. "Curse me again?" his voice crescendoed. Though his body couldn't move, Lucius's eyes settled on Draco's face and all signs of awe were gone. Now all that remained was hatred.

In less than a second, Draco's adrenaline faded away with a sense of horror. He looked down at the wand in his hand and then back up at his father stuck like a fly on the wall. His eyes widened as he thought about what he had just done. He ripped his wand away and his father fell to the floor with a crash. Immediately Lucius pulled out his wand and pointed it at Draco but Draco kicked it away; Lucius went scrambling after it.

"Get out," Draco whispered. Still on his knees, Lucius grabbed his wand and spun around to face Draco. "Get out!" shouted Draco, dodging another curse sent his way. "Get out now!"

Taking one last look at Draco, Lucius stepped into the fire. "This isn't over, boy," he spat before he reached into his pocket for a handful of Floo powder. He threw the dust onto the ground under his feet and green flames erupted around him. "Malfoy Manor," he said quietly, his eyes still fixed on Draco.

Half-turned towards the fire-place, Draco saw his father disappear in the flames. After his father was gone, Draco remained in place. His mind spun with what had just happened.

He had just disarmed his own father. He had never done that before. "What am I?" Draco moaned, rubbing his head, which was throbbing from the after-affects of the Cruciatus curse. "What have I become?" He stared with empty eyes at the floor, then at the room around him. There was a small dent on the wall that Lucius had collided with. Then Draco's eyes flew to the door, which was still locked. He knew that nobody had heard their fight because of the spell Lucius had placed on the room.

I need to get away, Draco thought desperately. I don't want to be here. He took one stumbling step towards the door before he broke into a run and ripped the door open. He tore down the steps until he reached the common room below. He barely noticed Blaise rise out of his seat as Draco sped past him, and he certainly didn't notice Crabbe and Goyle turn their heads fearfully towards him as he exited the Slytherin House.


Draco sped through the hallways, not caring that some of the portraits were muttering at him. He had no idea where he was going or why he was running, but he didn't care about that either. But he had to run; he had to escape what had just happened back in his room.

In the end, Draco knew that he could never escape it.

That didn't stop him from trying though.

He was changing, Draco knew it. The changes weren't happening outwardly but inwardly, and they all traced back to a few years ago when he had come to despise his father for what he was and what he did. Those changes only became more pronounced over the past few months, however, ever since he started keeping company with Ginny Weasley. Draco didn't know what it was about her, but she seemed to bring out things in him Draco didn't know were there.

Such as the ability to defy his father. Where had that come from, anyway? As long as Draco knew, he had let himself be pushed around by his father. Since when did he start sticking up to him?

Since he began to see what was right…

…and began to know that who he was, was very wrong indeed.

What's happening to me? thought Draco. I don't like this…I don't know this.

He kept running, thinking that if he ran fast enough, he could leave behind the memories that haunted him, teased him.

But in the end, Draco knew that there was no escape.

Not from what was already a part of him.


Ginny woke in the night with a feeling of unrest that she couldn't explain. She sat up and looked around. There was nothing out of place in her room; her dorm-mates were all sound asleep.

As you should be, Ginny, she told herself. Instead of listening to her inner voice, Ginny swung her legs out of bed and threw her robe on over her pajamas, which were an old pair of Charlie's that he had worn when he was her age. Though the pants were still long enough to cover her short legs – Charlie wasn't much taller than she was – the pajama top sleeves barely reached Ginny's wrist.

On her way out of the room, Ginny grabbed the ring that was sitting on her nightstand.

The common room below was very dark; only a few embers glowed in the fireplace. Ginny sat down on the couch and stared into the fire. She pulled the ring out of her pocket and looked at it again, but it was hard to see in the dim light.

"Couldn't sleep either?" said a voice from Ginny's right. The ring flew from Ginny's hand as she jumped and so startled was she that she nearly screamed.

"Neville?" Ginny asked as she knelt on the floor to find the ring. To her luck, it hadn't traveled much further than gold rug on the floor.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Neville replied. "But I couldn't sleep so I came down here."

"Oh," replied Ginny, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal. "I didn't see you sitting here. Uh, why are you sitting here in the dark?" she asked, puzzled.

"Probably for the same reason you're here," Neville said quietly, staring at the dying fire. As Ginny's eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see his face more clearly.

"Well that's impossible," Ginny said, retaking her seat on the couch, "because I don't even know why I'm here. I just couldn't sleep anymore so I came down here."

"Yeah," said Neville. "I came down here a while ago…" he trailed off. "Ron snores, did you know that?" he asked with a ghost of a smile, turning his face finally towards Ginny. "And they said I'm bad…" There was silence for a moment.

"Are you okay, Neville?" Ginny asked in concern. "You seem a little…down."

"Ah, I'm fine," Neville yawned. "Just tired, I guess." He rose from the chair he was sitting in. "I think I'll go back to bed, now. It's late and I don't want to be dead to the world tomorrow."

Neville headed back towards the boys' staircase but Ginny called out to him.

"Hey, Neville," she started, and the boy turned around.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Do you ever feel like…like…" Ginny trailed off, trying to find the words. "Do you ever feel like there's something you should be doing? Or there's something out there that you…I don't know…like something that you just can't…"

"Remember?" Neville offered. "Like there's something important that you can't remember?"

"Yeah, sort of," Ginny said, looking at Neville. She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm not making much sense; I get like that when I'm tired."

Neville nodded at her and turned back towards the staircase. He stopped with one hand on the railing and turned his head around. "Hey, Ginny?" he asked, and Ginny looked at him questioningly. "Maybe you didn't forget. Maybe you just never knew."

Ginny cocked her head to the side confusedly and was about to question Neville about what he meant but he disappeared up the stairs before she could ask anything. She was left sitting in the dark to ponder over what Neville's words meant.


Draco's chest felt about ready to explode. Gasping for breath, he stopped his incessant running and doubled over, his hands on his knees. When he had regained most of his breath, he looked up to see where he was. To his surprise, he was standing outside the entrance to the kitchens. Why did my feet take me here? he thought.

Not knowing what else to do, Draco tickled the pear and stepped through the portrait hole. Instead of being bombarded by helpful house elves ready to serve him, Draco was greeted by nobody. Instead, he saw what were probably most of the elves in Hogwarts clustered around somebody who was sitting at a table, sipping something out of a cup. Though the person's back was to Draco, he recognized that hair anywhere.

"Do come in, Draco," greeted Albus Dumbledore without turning around.

Cautiously, thinking that he should leave, Draco approached the table and sat down next to the Headmaster. "Good evening," Dumbledore said, smiling at Draco. He set down the cup of whatever he was drinking and turned to face Draco properly. "What brings you out and about this late at night, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco eyed the Headmaster precariously. In truth, he should be receiving a reprimand at the moment for being out of bed after curfew, but Dumbledore didn't look angry at all. But also, Draco didn't really feel like talking to anybody at the moment, least of all Albus Dumbledore, a man Draco had been taught to hate for all his life.

"I couldn't sleep," Draco proffered.

"Ah, it was the same with me," sighed Dumbledore. "I oftentimes find myself awake at night for no apparent reason, but a cup of hot chocolate returns the thought of sleep to my mind. Would you like some?" he motioned to the cup sitting before him.

"What? No," Draco answered quickly, but already several elves were skittering away to retrieve some of the drink. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Is anything wrong, Draco," Dumbledore said more as a statement.

"I'm fine," Draco automatically replied.

"Usually the ones that say they're 'fine' are the ones who need saving the most," Dumbledore said slowly to the wall ahead of them, sipping on his chocolate. Draco turned narrow eyes to the Headmaster.

"I said I'm fine," he said gruffly, and Dumbledore nodded. The house elves returned with another mug of hot chocolate which Draco took and grudgingly set before him untouched. The elves also placed a platter of small cookies and tarts in front of the two men. Draco began to think that his entering the kitchen was a mistake and stood up to leave.

"Aren't you going to drink your chocolate?" he asked, his eyes twinkling as if they already knew the answer.

"No," said Draco with finality. He then turned around and continued walking out of the kitchens. However, one last question from Dumbledore froze him in his tracks.

"What is your greatest fear, Draco?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Draco's heart pounded in the silence. Even the house elves seemed to know to stay out of the way, for they all hurried off to give them space.

"What kind of question is that?" asked Draco.

"Everybody fears something," Dumbledore replied. The twinkle was gone from his eye but a smile remained in place. "What do you fear?"

"I don't fear anything," hissed Draco, taking a step back towards Dumbledore, his temper rising. He pointed to himself. "Draco Malfoy doesn't fear anything."

Knowing that what he spoke was false, Draco turned around and stomped out of the kitchens. What was Dumbledore up to, asking him questions like that? Stuff like that was nobody's business but his own.

Draco continued stalking through the hallways, breathing heavily with his anger. He stopped when he heard footsteps approach from around the corner. His mind flew back to the meeting with his father and he whipped out his wand just as a body turned the corner and came face to face with him only a few feet away.

"Lumos," Draco said, and the person shied back, trying to block the light. "Weasley?" Draco asked, his wand dropping several inches. Draco saw the girl squint towards the sound of this voice.

"Malfoy?" Ginny asked. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Draco countered.

"I couldn't sleep, so I was going to the kitchens to get some food," she replied. Draco looked disbelievingly at her. Why are there so many people who can't sleep out this late at night? he thought wondrously. "You?" she asked.

"Same," he said, shifting his feet. His eyes darted around, looking anywhere but at Ginny. Finally, resignedly, he rested his eyes on her. He saw red and white striped pajama pants under her robe; no doubt they were a hand-me-down from one of her brothers. Ginny clicked her teeth together, looking around them, obviously trying to ignore the awkward silence between them.

"My father – visited me," Draco said, his voice cracking; but he wanted something, anything, said. However, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted saying them.

"Your father?" Ginny asked, curiosity and disbelief clear in her voice. "He visited you at Hogwarts?" Draco nodded. "When?" she asked.

Draco sighed and looked for a way out of the situation. He really didn't feel like talking about his father; but he had brought up the subject. "Tonight," he said. "Just a little while ago."

"Oh," Ginny said so quietly that Draco almost didn't hear her. "Well…what did he - uh…want?"

Draco's face hardened and he looked down at his feet. His father had wanted to torture him again, to make him feel pain. His father had wanted to remind him that he had no escape from becoming a Death Eater. His father had wanted to pressure him, to make him feel insignificant.

But he couldn't tell Ginny that. He didn't need pity, didn't want it; he had enough pity for himself.

"He just – just wanted to…" Draco began, still staring at the floor. "He – he just – just wanted to…My father just wanted to…" Draco's mind searched for something to say, for some reason to give Ginny, but he could only think of the horrible things his father had done all his life. Why should Draco be protecting him when all Lucius wanted to do was ruin his own son?

I'm not protecting him, Draco told himself. I'm protecting me. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself, but his reasoning was sounding less convincing with each passing moment. And Ginny just stood there, half in the shadow of Draco's wand-light, looking at him with a mix of concern and fear on her face.

"I mean," continued Draco, not used to being so tongue-tied, "why did he even have to come, right? He could've stayed away and I would've been just fine…I don't need him to…" At this point, Draco wasn't sure if he was talking to Ginny or himself anymore. "It's just that -" started Draco, half-heartedly shrugging his shoulders, "I don't know what to do anymore." There was a note of desperation in his voice, and he both hated it and wanted Ginny to understand what he meant.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked almost defiantly, raising his face to meet hers. "What am I supposed to do? I can't help it that he's…evil," he whispered the last word like a curse. "And even if he does - make me…I can't do it. I don't care what anybody says but I can't do it."

Tears came to his eyes and he looked away, ashamed of himself. What was he doing? Since when did he start pouring his heart out to anyone, least of all Ginny Weasley? He took one step backwards, still looking intently at his shoes.

"I can't," he whispered pleadingly.


Ginny stared in horror at Draco, wondering what had happened to him. The boy she had known for six years was gone and standing in his place was someone that seemed human, normal almost. Never before had she seen Draco show any emotion and now here he was in a dark corridor of Hogwarts having an emotional breakdown. She desperately wanted to comfort him somehow, but she didn't know how or if she even could. Whatever Lucius Malfoy had done to him tonight could not have been good; it seemed to haunt Draco. Or maybe it wasn't what he had done this night but every other night of Draco's life. She knew that Draco never shared his personal life with anybody, but she could only imagine what he had gone through. But for all her life she had thought he wanted to be what his father was, what his father wanted him to be.

But you also never knew him, Ginny thought. She had just believed the version of Draco her brother and Harry had cooked up and the version of Draco that he showed to everybody he met. But people don't always show the real them; sometimes they only show what other people want to see. Maybe he's been what he's been because that's all he knew how to be.

When Draco looked back up at her, Ginny could see the tears in his eyes that he was so desperately trying to will away. This Draco didn't seem like the kind of person to steal a valentine and read it to a bunch of strangers only to embarrass a little girl; this Draco didn't seem like the kind of person to spitefully call names to another just to degrade them; this Draco didn't seem like the kind of person to become a Death Eater like his father; this Draco didn't at all seem like the kind of person to steal students just because they didn't have the same magical background as he.

Ginny opened her mouth to try and say something but he took a step backward and shook his head. "I don't want to be him," he vehemently said. "I can't and I – won't." He shook his head again, more tears coming to his eyes; they never fell. "I can't," he repeated.

Then Ginny did something without even thinking. She did something that her mother would've done for one of her children. She did something that she hadn't thought would ever happen.

But it was all she knew to do.

Without contemplating the results of her actions, Ginny rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Draco's back, pulling him close to her. For a minute, Draco's arms just hung limply at his sides, but they hesitatingly came around Ginny and hugged her back. For only a second did Ginny allow herself to worry about what she was doing before she pushed away all regrets for another time. She felt Draco's hold on her tighten and his back shook with the emotion he had been holding inside for all these years. Ginny closed her eyes and rubbed his back slowly, trying to take away some of his pain.

"It's okay," she said softly. "Everything will be alright." Ginny felt Draco shake his head but he said nothing. After a moment, Draco's body stilled and Ginny wondered if he was angry with her. He pulled away slightly, his stands still on her back, and looked down at Ginny, who was staring firmly at his neck, not wanting to meet his eyes. The nature of their situation suddenly hit her; when she remembered that all she wore under her robe was pajamas, her face turned crimson.

What did I just do? she thought dazedly. Get ready for the explosion, Ginny girl.

Biting her lip, she looked up at him. In Draco's eyes she saw a blend of wonder and anxiety. She swallowed and said nervously, "Sorry."


Draco, for reasons unknown to him, felt like smiling when she apologized; he restrained himself though. There was nothing humorous about the situation, but the fact that a Weasley had just hugged a Malfoy was so astonishing that it almost seemed funny to him. She took a few steps away from him and turned her back to him, about to walk away. Then she swiveled around and opened her mouth to say something, frowned, clamped her mouth shut, and then took off running back from where she came from.

When she was gone, Draco couldn't help a tiny laugh from escaping his mouth. It died away almost instantly, though, as he thought back on what had just happened. He rested his back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling.

Ginny Weasley just hugged me.

He could hardly believe that it had happened, and the most disturbing thought of all was that he had enjoyed it. Then another thought came to him that brought back the sadness from earlier.

That was the first time anybody had ever hugged him.

And it was all because of Lucius Malfoy. If he hadn't cursed his mother, she'd have been there to hug him all of his life. His anger returned, but he tried to will it away. It was anger that got him in this situation tonight in the first place. It was anger that led him to harm his father, that took him out of his common room, that made him flee the kitchens, and that ultimately made him breakdown in front of Ginny Weasley.

And it was compassion that brought him out of that funk, compassion that helped him to see that maybe there was hope after all.

He pushed himself away from the wall walked down the corridor, his hands in his pockets. Only time would show him what to do, and only time would be able to heal the wounds in his heart.

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A/N: So? How'd you like it? The first part of this chapter (up until Draco leaves the kitchens) was really fun and easy for me to write, but after that I got stuck. I wanted that scene with Draco and Ginny in there, but it was hard for me to write. Did Draco seem too sappy and weak and totally un-Dracoish? If he did, sorry...that's what I was fearing would happen and I tried to prevent it, but I'm not so sure it happened. So please review and tell me what you think!

Please note that the title of this story will change AFTER the next chapter to "This Is Who You Are". Right after I post the next chapter, I'm going to change the title. You have been warned!

Lauren