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Today we will be changing lab partners. Some find this class to difficult." Professor Snape said coldly, almost daring any one to point out that the class was difficult.

Ginny looked around the room and the only Hufflepuff had, indeed, disappeared. Several Slytherins snickered. She looked hopefully at Blaise seated beside her, and he smiled in agreement.

The two made a good team. While Ginny was well learned in potions and books, she was not good at coming up with new ideas of her own. She was shrewdly observant and focused on what she could see. Blaise, however, used foresight. He was calm and collected for her impulsiveness. While she looked at the surface, he was already looking beneath. She was glad to have him as her partner.

Only Snape seemed to have other ideas.

"Mr. Zabini will be paired with Mr. Blackwell." He said, pointedly glancing at a blond Slytherin who blushed slightly. "Maybe he'll be able to help you bring up your pitiful grades, Blackwell."

Blaise looked apologetically at her, but she shrugged him off. It wasn't his fault he was good at potions.

"Miss. Brocklehurst your partner will be Miss. Turpin." Two Ravenclaws. Then came two more Ravenclaws: Mary Surrey and Martha Richards. Next they learned that Jarred Marks would work with a fellow Slytherin, Malcolm Baddock. The next was a pair of Slytherins, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass.

Ginny looked around as the crowd of unassigned people around her dispersed.

"Mr. Graham will be working with Mr. Bletchley."

The sinking feeling in her stomach that she had acquired when she learned Blaise was not going to be her partner intensified as Professor Snape announced that Michael and Joanna, the last two Ravenclaws, would be working together.

That left only one person: Malfoy.

"Professor-" Draco started, eager to argue his way out of being her partner. Not that Ginny minded.

"Do you have a problem with the seating assignment Mr. Malfoy?" Snape cut him off and the look in his eyes discouraged dispute.

Draco, however didn't back down. "Yes I-"

"Then get over it so I may start my lesson. Now sit down." Which the blond did, pouting. "Ms. Weasley, what about you?"

"I sure as heck do. We already have one class together! Are you crazy or do you just want me to kill Malfoy? Or is it you just like making us unhappy, is that it?"

"That's enough Mrs. Weasley. We can discuss this tonight, in detention. Now take your seat. And fifteen points from Gryffindor for your outburst."

Fuming, she sat down and waited impatiently for Snape to finish his lecture. When he let them start on their potions, Ginny began haphazardly cutting the caterpillars.

"You'll lose a finger that way." Draco noted emotionlessly.

"Good, that would get me out of classes for at least two days. Three if it gets infected."

"I don't think I've heard anything that cheerful all day."

"You're particularly unbearable today."

"And you're especially tetchy today. What's got your knickers in a bundle?"

"Nothing."

"You know that thing at the restaurant, with the water?" He said after a moment, "Not part of the plan."

She smiled innocently and looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "I was improvising."

"You're improvising nearly ruined my shirt."

"Would've served you right. Ugly shirt."

He shook his head, "Says the girl who shops at thrift shops."

"Yeah, like I would take fashion advice from a guy who wears more frills than I do."

The dreams were infatuating. The colors and sound were so vivid that the images replayed in his mind for hours after he woke.

At first, the dreams were just another thing to use against her. He was sure that if he kept coming eventually he would find something to use against her. Some admission of guilt to a past crime, a secret crush, a deep, dark secret. He had found nothing of the sort, and yet he still could not keep himself from coming.

The dreams were forever changing, morphing. Sometimes they were dreams of her past and Ginny was young, thin and full of smiles. These seemed to be memories, recollections of thing that had really happened. The boy she called Tom, appeared in these as a kind friend, a mentor, the subject of a girlish crush, often making Ginny blush.

Other times they were of the present, and these were the only ones in which Ginny seemed perfectly in control of what she was saying. When they were current, it was obvious Ginny disdained Tom. She had even slapped him several times, but was unable to leave him. There was something about the boy that linked her to him, transfixed her, and while she broke out of her trance long enough to bicker and struggle, she never managed to completely banish him from her dreams.

Rarely they were of the future, and these tended to be silent, but full of emotion. These usually featured an older Ginny normally adorned in strange, elaborate dresses and robes.

This one seemed to be the latter.

She was standing in the doorway, leaning heavily against its stone frame. Dressed in a deep green garment that clung to her curves and cut much lower than anything she would have really worn, she was much older then her fifteen years. Though she looked tired, Draco could feel the happiness radiating from her as she watched the tall, dark haired man approach, holding a small raven-haired boy on his shoulders. From behind her skirt, two small heads appeared. Identical from their small freckled noses to their shockingly red hair, they were clearly members of the Weasley clan. Only instead of Ginny's green eyes, theirs were a deep blue-black, obviously the mark of their father. Tom's eyes, he realized.

The man set down the boy who ran excitedly toward Ginny, smiling happily. Draco could now clearly see the light sprinkling of freckles on his face and his bright green eyes.

"Mother, Mother, look!" He held open his cupped hands to show her something he had found and picked up on his way home. The small twins emerged from behind their mothers dress to greet their brother.

And again, through the bond of the spell, he could see what she saw, feel what she felt. He was overcome with a sense of pride he had never felt before. A host of other emotions ripped through his chest, filling his heart to a capacity he hadn't thought possible. Most prominent was the feeling of satisfaction as she admired her children.

A maid appeared carrying a small, weeping baby. Ginny's older self reached out and took the baby from the servant. She rocked him slightly and gurgled some incoherent words and within a moment he cooed contently and snuggled silently closer against his mother's breasts.

The man had now reached the door. He leaned carefully over and kissed Ginny lightly.

"'Ello, love."

She smiled brightly at him. "Hello Tom."

He pulled her into his arms, letting her lean against his chest for support.

"I love you," He whispered. "Forever."

Her back ached and for a moment she couldn't recollect where she was. She rubbed her eyes and waited for them to adjust to the darkness. It wasn't until she rolled over, knocking the History of Magic book off her lap, that she remembered where she was. The Gryffindor common room.

"Ginny? Are you okay?"

She jerked away as the warm hand touched her shoulder.

"Hey, Gin, it's just me. Just Harry."

Still not quite awake, she didn't comprehend at first. "Harry…?" Then a more surely, "Harry. Harry, what are you doing up?"

"Same as you, I'd expect. Nightmares." He sounded tired, not physically- though he surely was- but instead emotionally drained.

"I wasn't having nightmares." Even to her ears the lie sounded thin and unbelievable.

"So you just woke up screaming bloody murder for the fun of it?"

She didn't remember screaming at all, but that would explain the dryness of her throat. "Yes."

"Liar. I've slept at you're house enough summers to know that you don't just wake up screaming. That's the kind of thing I think I'd remember. Lumos." He sat down and put a comforting arm around her. "Now, you just tell me what's wrong."

She looked dubious. "You won't tell Ron or anyone?"

"No."

"I've been dreaming of To- Voldemort lately."

She didn't feel compelled to add that they were dreams of a young, handsome, charming, Tom Riddle as opposed to a crazy, demented, red-eyed Voldemort. Somehow it didn't appear completely relevant. Besides she couldn't expect Harry to understand and the last thing she needed was him mouthing off to Ron.

She nearly laughed at the notion. And Ron hadn't liked the idea of her dating Dean. What would he think of her having dreams very clearly implying Lord Voldemort was the father of her children?

"Is that all?" Inquired Harry, sounding slightly relieved that she hadn't started crying. Crying girls was defiantly not his area of expertise.

"What do you mean, is that all?" She drew back out of his support to look at him, offended.

"Well, Ginny," He cut in quickly to clarify his nonchalance, which she had very obviously misinterpreted. Ginny was very rarely upset, and even more rarely did she show her distress. If she was this troubled by something it was clearly very important to her and Harry didn't want her to feel she had mad a mistake in sharing her grievances with him. "It's close to Halloween, the anniversary of the Chamber. It makes sense that you should dream about it now."

She hadn't considered that. But Harry was right; the dreams had all but vanished until recent weeks and it was understandable that they would occur around the same time as her original possession. Sinking back into his embrace, she said, "Your turn."

He didn't answer.

"You said you were having nightmares." She prompted, though she knew he had understood. He wasn't looking at her anymore; instead his gaze was fixed on the wall. She feared for a moment that he wouldn't answer, but finally with a heavy voice he said, "They died on Halloween."

She didn't have to ask who they were.

"Oh, Harry." It seemed inadequate, but she couldn't find any words that would comfort him. She was overwhelmed with not only pain for her friend, but also overpowering guilt. Here she had been worried about her own stupid dreams. How petty that seemed now.

"Oh, Harry," She said again, and the roles quickly changed. She went from being comforted to comforting. She pulled his head down into her lap, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. His whole body quaked with dry, raking sobs, almost as if he had no tears left in him to cry.

Ginny felt her heart break. In that moment she hated Tom more then she had before for what he had done. Not to her, but to Harry.

Draco was going crazy. He had sent three letters to his mother in the past three weeks and hadn't gotten a reply for any of them. So many letters, he knew, looked unusual, but he was worried out of his mind. He hadn't been able to concentrate in classes and hadn't sleep well at night. He couldn't find peace until he knew his mother was all right. He quickly scrawled yet another note and gave it to his eagle owl who, tired of flying the long distances between Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor, bit him.

"Ouch! You mangy little crow!" He sucked at the small bead of blood that had formed.

Once again he tried to tie the parchment to the bird's leg, but the owl would have none of it. He stepped out of Draco's reach and hooted imperiously.

"Stupid bird."

The owl hooted once more and Draco could have sworn the thing glared.

"Fine, fine. I'll go get an owl from the Owlery; they're faster anyway." The bird looked at him again, as if to say 'You really think I'd fall for that?'

"Arg."

He sighed but grabbed his cloak and walked up to the Owlery grumbling all the way.

He selected a Black-and-White owl that looked fast and attached his letter to its leg. True to its name, the bird was nearly completely black, with the exception of its stomach which was streaked with white. It was sleek and sharp and its eyes were intelligent. This one, obviously better tempered then his own pet, jumped from its perch onto Draco's shoulder and hooted. It took a strand of silver in his beak and tweaked the boy's hair.

"What?"

Draco wasn't an animal person, especially not since that incident with the hippogriff in third year. Owls made him uncomfortable, they were all together too smart to be trusted, and something about this one was particularly unnerving. It hooted again, surprising Draco and making him jump. This whole business with his mother was making him far too jittery.

"Do you want an owl snack or something?" He offered the bird a small treat, which it snubbed and continued to stare. Slightly annoyed he asked, "What?"

Of course he didn't expect an answer, it was just a stupid bird after all, but speaking the questions aloud helped calm his nerves.

"You just worry about getting this to Mother, all right?"

He stared after the creature as it flew away, completely unaware of the pair of doe green eyes watching him.

Ginny Weasley watched in wonder. Draco Malfoy had once again unknowingly let her see behind his mask and she didn't know how to react. She couldn't quite identify the emotion behind his steel gray eyes as the owl flew away. Concern? Was it possible for someone as heartless as Malfoy to feel concern? But then again, as Ginny had now seen-twice- he wasn't as emotionless as he appeared.

She really hadn't been trying to spy. She had simply been trying to mail a letter. As soon as she heard voices she should have turned the other way. After all, curiosity killed the cat. But, being the sister of Fred and George Weasley had certain requirements and endless curiosity was one of them- that and a ready supply of nose-biting teacups, but that was another story.

She was about to move from her hiding place when a slight rustle stopped her. Following the sound, she saw it was only an owl returning. Then, upon further investigation, she saw that it was the very same owl that Malfoy had just sent out with the post.

It landed with the lofty grace of all raptors not on a perch, but on the floor. Sensing something was about, she remained pressed against the rafter as closely as she could and tried to quiet her breathing.

Then in a disgusting blend of feathers and skin, the bird began to take on a new form.

Ginny had seen someone change from animagus form before. In her first year Professor McGonagal had changed from a cat to a human on the first day of class. Several times she had seen Sirius take the form of a hulking black dog to his normal form with seemingly no effort. Watching this had been interesting, even entertaining, but those had been quick, a matter of seconds at the most.

This was agonizingly slow. Every bone in the owl's body seemed to break and reform at a new angle and the feathers melted away exposing pale skin beneath. Watching it, the room seemed to spin. She closed her eyes tightly and pushed down the nausea. When she opened them again, it was all over. There, looking slightly disheveled and flushed, was Professor Severus Snape.

He looked down at the letter that had fallen, forgotten, on the floor during the transformation.

"Incendio." The professor sad quietly, watching the letter shrivel and burn only a moment before hurrying down the stairs.

Not waiting as long as she probably should have, Ginny rushed from her hiding spot and stomped fruitlessly on the burning letter.

"Wait…duh, Ginny." She pulled out her wand, thanking Merlin she hadn't left it in her dorm room.

"Extintor!" She called and immediately the flames stopped. She carefully picked up the paper and unrolled it. It was scorched and tattered in places.

"Restablecer," She commanded and the missing patches materialized as perfectly as if they hadn't been damaged.

Dear Mother,

I hope you and Father are well. We have a quidditch game coming up soon against Hufflepuff, an easy win. School is, as always, predictable and boring. The only remotely exciting class is Care Of Magical Creatures, and that's only because if you look away for even a second, you find your arm being gnawed off by a hippogryff or blast-ended skrew or some other equally horrendous creature. I do, however, fear Snape has gone mad. Today he paired me with the girl Weasel (Ginny, short for…something, and she's just as unbearable as any of the others. Perhaps even more so). I expect one of us will be dead by Friday. With any luck it'll be her and Potter and Weasley will be so depressed they'll off themselves. Father shall have to make a complaint about this. I must go, Mother, quidditch practice is about to start, but I'll write again soon.

Forever You Devoted Son,

Draco

Ginny reread the letter several times and only became more mystified each time she did. What in this could be so important that Snape would burn it, and why did he want it in the first place? It made no sense. It was a simple, exceedingly boring, run-of-the-mill letter and she couldn't see anything so important about it…unless…

"Aparecium." She said, pointing the tip of her want at the parchment. Suddenly, a new message appeared, below the original.

Mother,

Please, if you are at all able, reply. You're lack of response has me worried out of my mind. Are you okay? Has Lucius harmed you in any way? If he has I swear I'll kill him. I will be waiting anxiously for your reply.

With all my love,

Draco

Slowly, she folded the parchment, pondering what she had just read. Things were definitely getting strange indeed.

HI guys. Sorry this chapter took a while, but my computer died. As in wouldn't even turn on. But my brother got a new one andI got his old one (yes, as the youngest of three I always get hand-me-downs, but I'm used to it). THis is my spring break so I'll probably update again soon.

PLease, review! It makes me write faster...