They all fall down

The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end.

-Benjamin Disraeli

Day VII.

Draco couldn't find her. She wasn't in the library, she wasn't in their rooms, she wasn't anywhere, as he found. She was gone.

Draco had even asked her foul, tactless brother of her whereabouts. The redhead had only given him a scathing look. "Lost her, have you?" he sneered, and tottered off, looking for Potter and Granger.

How could they even be of the same kin?

The usually cool and detached blonde was panicking by now, even if he could perfectly mask it. He was hurrying along the fifth-floor corridor, towards the hospital wing, when he heard a bone-chilling, simpering voice behind him.

"Drakie! I haven't seen you in ages!"

Pansy Parkinson burst out of nowhere, and draped herself on his arm. Shivers ran up and down his back, and he shuddered.

"Off," he commanded, wrenching his arm from her grasp. How could he ever had shagged her? Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. "I'm busy, Parkinson," he said in a cool warning voice and continued to stalk hurriedly down the corridor.

"Draco! Wait!" she called, and something in the tone of her voice made him slow.

"What," he drawled, turning to face her.

"I heard the most… ridiculous rumor. About the Weasley."

Draco flinched on the inside, but smirked at her. "Which one?"

"You know which one!" She shrieked, stamping her foot. "They are saying that you two are deeply involved," she continued sarcastically, "But whether I would consider fucking her as deep as they suggest is another matter entirely…"

Cold fury poured into his brain, and for a single irrational moment, he wished nothing more to backhand the whore. "You are utterly absurd," he said, ice in every syllable.

"You deny it then?" she demanded eagerly, her sapphire eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"Absolutely not," he dismissed casually, but he knew of the uproar his words would cause in the common rooms of Slytherin.

A look of horror came over her face. "NO! You are not involved with the weaselette! What are your motives? I doubt the virgin wench is better than I."

Draco sighed as if the encounter was more pain and suffering than it was worth. Which was definitely the case. "You know of my veela ancestry," he said slowly, as if talking to a small child. Pansy scowled and then nodded once.

"Ginervra Weasley is my mate. Nothing you, nor I, can do will change that," he warned softly, his expression darkened.

Pansy's expression soured considerably. "So be it," she hissed and stormed away. Draco knew that every Slytherin would be aware within the hour of his betrayal.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Gin, I'm still confused," Hermione admitted, tossing a rock into the lake.

"So am I, a bit," she answered. "It's like he morphed overnight into a human. But really. He was, all along, but couldn't show it. You know that. He wasn't even his own person, but more of his father's loyal servant."

"And now that his father is under ministry surveillance, he hasn't had a chance to make his son do anything" Hermione finished for her. "Malfoy's a bit different, I guess. Less pressure on him."

"He really is!" Ginny defended earnestly. "He really, truly is," she repeated, her voice softer.

"You have to talk to Harry about this," Ginny insisted in a low, urgent tone. "He won't listen to me! He won't even talk to me anymore; and I don't really want to talk to him either, after that day in Transfiguration. But I do wish he could understand," she said mournfully.

Hermione shook her head and clucked her tongue. "You know Harry," she said. "He would never accept this. He and Malfoy have been at it since the very first day they arrived here. How could he just forget what he's done to you? To me?"

Hermione sighed and tilted her head back at the sky. "It looks like rain. We better get in."

The moment the words were from her mouth, raindrops started to splatter onto their heads. They ran for cover under a large oak, but by the time they got there, they were completely soaked. The rain sheeted down, making the glass surface of the lake appear to be boiling.

Ginny tilted her head back and laughed. "Damn it all!" she called to Hermione, and they leisurely walked up to the castle amidst the downpour.

Hermione poked her head through the doors, looking right and left. "Filch is gonna kill us if he sees us dragging mud through here!"

Ginny slipped in, and a frantic voice called from her left, "Ginny!"

It was Draco. He hurried up to them, the relief evident on his face. "I've been looking all over for you!" It must have been true; he was trying to catch his breath. "Is it raining outside?" he said, perplexed, taking in her soaked clothing.

Ginny smiled blissfully. "It's pouring," she said cheerfully, tousling her sodden hair.

"Hello, Granger," Draco said, not unpleasantly, and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Malfoy," she acknowledged. Hermione shot a surprised look in Ginny's direction, and the redhead looked particularly smug.

"Y'know, you really shouldn't be out there in the rain. You'll get sick," Draco reprimanded. "And don't you have Charms now?"

"No," Ginny said, her smile fading slightly. "It's my free period. Do you always have to know my immediate whereabouts? I'll be okay. I'm not going to get kidnapped."

He scowled. "Fine. Go off and do what you were doing before I cared."

"Fine!" she yelled, storming away. Hermione stood there awkwardly, next to a fuming Draco. He ran his fingers through his white-blonde hair, making it untidy.

"Is she always like this?" he demanded, and then stalked away.

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Draco stayed away from the dorms all day. He didn't want to see her. Actually, he was humiliated. Why had he admitted that he cared? The admission only gave her the power to hurt him. And nobody had the right to do that to a Malfoy.

As far as he knew, she skipped all her classes for that day. She was still sulking. Immature brat.

It was nearing curfew, and Draco was tired of Slytherins coming up to him and demanding whether the rumors were true. Blaise was furious with him and didn't even grace him with his presence. Some Ravenclaw actually came up to him and asked Draco what her bra size was! Draco knew, but he snarled at the kid anyways.

Finally, he was just tired. He trudged up to the dorms, defeated. He could just ignore her; she was probably in her room anyways.

He gave the password and collapsed on the bed immediately. He scrunched his eyes together, willing them to not conjure a picture of her, her dripping wet robes clinging to every curve and crevice like a second skin. He groaned and rolled over, pressing a pillow over his head.

She was so beautiful.

He reached out to her consciousness, curious to see if she was still angry at him. He wanted to kiss her again.

Something was wrong. She was in another sphere, her body shedding its skin over and over, her mind hallucinating. In her mind, she got herself a glass of water to sooth her desert throat again and again and again. She didn't realize that she hadn't moved at all.

Draco burst through her bedroom door, and there she was, sprawled on her bed. Her face was paper-white, her hair like a blood stain. There was a light sheen on her forehead, little droplets forming.

He tried to shake her awake, but she was unresponsive. Ginny was still in her wet robes from that morning, never having changed out of them.

He laid a hand on her cheek. She was burning! Her blood boiling from the inside out. She moaned, thrashing slightly. Draco checked her pulse, and it was very fast, as if a butterfly was trying to escape from her veins.

Fever.

A terrible emotion filled Draco. She was dying! She was going to die if he didn't help her. He grabbed his wand, and conjured a glass of water. He tipped it to her lips, and it trickled out of sight. She licked her lips, and her eyes opened a little.

"Water?" she rasped.

"Yeah," he said, relief spreading through his body. He tipped it again to her mouth, and she took a huge gulp. He tried to help her up, supporting her back with his hands, but she fell limp, and he laid her carefully back on the bed.

"Ginny! Why did you go out in the rain?" He groaned, mentally kicking himself.

She was shaking all over. Her teeth chattered as she tried to answer. "I had… to ask… Hermione…."

"Shhh," he soothed her. "Don't talk."

Instead, he took her face in his hands and blew on her cheeks, trying to cool them. It seemed to make her colder, but he knew that she was really burning up. He had to get the temperature down.

He pulled the heavy comforter off of her, and with shaking hands, pulled her sodden robe off her shoulders. He tilted her, pulling it out from under her, and he tossed it aside the bed. He kneeled on the bed, unbuttoning her shirt, revealing her milky white skin, dappled with dustings of Weasley freckles. Her gorgeousness struck him again, with more force than the last. She was wearing a pale blue cotton bra, and he averted his eyes, trying to stay focused. His hands slid down her flat stomach, deftly pulling her uniform trousers down her legs, which were long, shapely, and dappled with light freckles like the rest of her. Her underwear matched the bra.

Draco then shrugged of his own robe, and tossed it aside. He removed his shoes and socks, and laid next to her, pulling her fevered body close. Then he covered both their bodies with a sheet.

Her ragged breath seemed to quiet. The only thing he could hope to do now was take her fever away.

The last thing he heard before his eyes closed was their heartbeats mingling, their blood pulsing through their entangled limbs. It soothed him like a lullaby.

It assured him they were both still alive.

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"Draco," she murmured, tossing in her sleep.

His eyes fluttered open, responsive to the soft, melodic sound of her voice. Where was he?

Oh yeah, Draco thought, the past forty-eight hours coming back to him. His arms encircled his mate, pulling her barely clothed form against him. She had kicked away the sheet in the night, and the bedding surrounding her was drenched in sweat. Her fever had broken.

Draco sighed in relief, and then pressed his lips softly to hers. "Mmm… wake up."

Ginny scrunched her nose and then threw an arm over her eyes. "Ughh…"

"Can you hear me?" he whispered.

"No… Go away," she moaned, her lips twitching up in a smile.

"Okay, you're getting up now. You've been asleep for hours." Draco sat up, looking around. "And you're fever broke," he added, smug.

"Hmm," she murmured, sounding thoughtful. "I had a fever, did I? I don't even remember. Did you bring me back from the hospital wing?"

Draco looked away. "No."

She sat up and stared at him. "What? I wasn't at the hospital wing?"

He looked away sharply, not daring to meet her eyes. Draco knew that if he was allowed to stare into her warm eyes, he would be transparent. Every secret that he ever had would be divulged… The true horror of the Malfoy line—they do have feelings. Draco wasn't sure why his ancestors had tried to erase the human emotion, but it was still passed on through the generations. And after eighteen years of practice, it was nearly impossible to dredge up the feelings and let them show on his patrician features.

"No," he muttered, cursing himself.

"No?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. Draco risked a glance at her, and froze. He saw her eyes studying his face, and the realization spread over her face like a sunrise.

"Oh."

She had seen the dark, bruise-like circles that he got when he slept poorly, the ripple of consternation on his perfect brow. The way the corners of his mouth turned down slightly… all the little clues that his father had never managed to erase, never managing to succeed. These signs that would always show on his face, would always give him away.

"You took care of me," she murmured, running her hand along his stubbly cheek. It was shockingly intimate to him, this touch. She held everything, all her emotions on her sleeve. And, she had the power to convey certain warmth she held, with a grazing of her soft hands.

It was so incredible to him.

"Amazing," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. He was grappling with the emotions that rose up inside of him, but they had the advantage of surprise and the unknown. He ached for her so completely, it hurt his insides. Suddenly, he realized. Those Malfoys before him, they were only trying to protect themselves. The ache in his abdomen, it was like being kicked in the gut. It was a certain pain that not even a Malfoy upbringing could defeat. But sometimes, it's easier to lock it out than fight with it.

But Draco had seen what had happened to a body once you locked out the pain. It was a shell, with all good things gone. He had seen it in his father, who had never loved his mother. Every damn thing. And there was one thing that Ginny helped Draco realize.

That he couldn't be like that.

"What?" Ginny whispered back, her eyes widening. She amazed him. Instead of instinctually shrinking back from such a brazen statement, her body arched up to him, her rushing blood aching for his.

How could she so eagerly want his words? Didn't she know how much power he held to hurt her? He could feel it laying on him heavily, her weakness. And the thing that scared him the most, was himself. That he would use that power. That he would hurt her and let her down.

His head rushed with the fierce tenderness that coursed through his every vein. Nothing would ever hurt her again. Not Potter, not the Dark Lord, not even himself.

Draco drew in a ragged breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "You need to help me, Ginny," he whispered fiercely, scarcely believing what he was about to say.

"I think I love you."

He only heard her sharp intake of breath. And then a painful anxiety settled over him. He could practically hear her thoughts. A Malfoy could never love. It was the same thought that he had repeated in his own thoughts throughout his life. It could never work.

There was a horrible, thick silence, that Draco felt would suffocate him. He couldn't bring his mouth to say another single word; it was still burning with his last.

But then suddenly, her finger was under his chin, tilting his face towards hers. He forced himself to meet her eyes, and an electric current zapped through his body.

Her eyes were wet, and her full lips were curved into a small smile. She was crying. Her dark eyelashes glistened with her tears. Draco could only stare. He was confused… he couldn't imagine why she would cry, but the relief that she wasn't horrified or repulsed was so strong that he couldn't move at all.

In a single moment of silence, Draco felt a click. Their lives were connected, as nothing had ever been before. And then he realized… the attachment was physical. Their heartbeats had mingled as one. They kept on, beating in absolute synchronization, for a second that seemed like an eternity.

Her smile grew wider.

"Amazing," she whispered back, and he brushed away a tear with his thumb.

And nothing could stop the identical smile that spread across his face. He had her. He held her in her arms, and had completely captured her. Or more likely, she had completely captured him.

He shifted forward, and caught her lips in a soft kiss. They intermingled tenderly, eagerly. The pulse of the kiss matched their beating hearts. Her fingers tangled in his glossy blonde hair that had been mussed up with sleep, and he rested his hand on the pulse point on her neck. The beat went quicker under his hand, and he felt his own heart race to match hers. Draco felt himself being pulled, as if by a tide. The world was flat, and the farther he was pulled, the closer he was to the edge, to be sent cascading with the waterfall that vanished into space.

And it was amazing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hoorah! I have AWESOME news!

My college accepted me! I'm going be a NURSE!! Cheers for me!

Again thanks to my beta/ co-author XFinishedinadayX, you're awesome babe! I hope you know I love ya right:P

and thanks to all those who reviewed and gave me words of encouragement! It helps so much. I LOVE YOU ALL!

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