A/N: I know what you're all thinking . . . AT LAST!!! Has J.T. been under a rock for the last (checks time of last chapter upload) month-and-a-half?? The answer is, of course not! It's just that, as you will see, this chapter is exceptionally complicated. And it's only part one of the final chapter!! If I'm not exceptionally careful, there will be more holes in the plot than in my Swiss cheese sandwich. Bad joke, sorry. I'm totally excited that I'm FINALLY able to give you new material. Shout-outs to my fantastically patient and loyal and helpful and wonderful and silly and glompable beta, XX, who is all things wise and benevolent and thanks also to EVERY SINGLE REVIEWER!!! Your comments have ALL been read, considered, and possibly put to use in some way. The editing on earlier chapters continues, but I'm putting all my effort into completing the final chapter of this fic as soon as is humanly possible.

Loves to you all!!!

J.T.

P.S. Quadruple glomps and shout-outs to all my F&I friends over at FictionAlley Park (hereafter known as FAP). You guys rock my socks and I loff you dearly!

P.P.S. Sorry about the weird scene dividers )PvsM( I can't get anything else to show up (stupid computer!!).

Disclaimer: We solemnly swear we are up to no good – er, I mean, we own nothing. Yeah...

)PvsM(

Harry sat panting, staring at the red velvet hangings around his four-poster in utter disbelief. At first he thought he was dreaming and blinked rapidly against the scene. But no – the darkened dorm remained, with dawn light leaking through the window and across the stone floor. Neville's snores were clearly audible and Dean's occasional exclamation of "Red card – red card . . . ah, come on, ref!" added to the usual early-morning noise.

"Oi, mate – you okay?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. Ron was sitting up in his own bed, staring blearily at Harry through a mop of red fluff.

"Ro-Ron," he managed, staring in shock at his best friend. Ron was there – eighteen-year-old Ron, looking just as he had in seventh year! He, Harry, must really be back at Hogwarts. But that couldn't have been right. He'd been killed – killed by Dumbledore –

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry shivered. No wonder his scar was smarting! He rubbed his forehead absently, thinking back. Yes, he had dived in front of Ginny, taking the curse meant for her. But Dumbledore couldn't have really just killed him – could he?

Was it just a dream? he wondered.

"Hey – Harry."

Harry started again. Ron had crawled off his four-poster and was standing before Harry's, looking more awake and a bit anxious.

"You all right? You look like you've seen –"

"A ghost?" Harry finished.

Ron looked confused.

"What's so unusual about seeing a ghost?"

Harry didn't bother to answer. Had it all been a nightmare, then? He had had elaborate dreams before, particularly after Voldemort's rise to power in his fourth year. Could he have dreamt Tristy and Hayden? Cedric? Avalon? But it had all felt so real.

And what about Blaise?

Just the thought of her made him turn red. Before this dream or whatever it was, they had never really spoken at all. So the fact that he suddenly felt such deep emotions at the thought of her meant – meant what? That it hadn't been a dream?

He realized Ron was still eyeing him in a worried sort of way.

"Sorry – weird dream," he murmured, not sure if he was lying or not.

"Tell me about it," Ron said, his face clearing and his eyes rolling. "Last night I had this weird one about Mione. She was going to marrying Crookshanks and I was telling her no way, she should totally try dating Buckbeak, because he was more loyal and that – "

As Harry stared at his friend, his mind awhirl with memories of the dream or whatever it was, a new thought occurred to him.

"– and then suddenly, Vickie – you know, Viktor Krum – was there and I cursed him and he turned into Malfoy's owl and started pecking my eyes out – "

"Ron, what's the date?"

"– which is painful you know, and – I'm sorry, what?" Ron broke off, staring at him in surprise.

"The date – what's the date?" Harry said, almost desperately.

"Dunno – the 25th or something."

"Of March?"

"Of course, of March." Ron was definitely looking concerned now. "Look, what's up, mate?"

"Nothing," Harry said blankly, racking his brain. "And – and do we have Quidditch today?"

"We've got a nightmare to get ready for with Slytherin this Friday, yeah," Ron said. "Er – look, why don't you come down and tell Mione and me what's up?"

"It was just a dream," Harry said faintly.

"Right." Ron clearly didn't believe him. "Well, why don't you tell us about your 'dream', then?"

"Okay."

Harry didn't know what he was saying by that time. All he knew was that he had just awoken on the morning he was due for detention with Malfoy. It was the day they had found Tristan's and Hayden's bodies in the entrance hall. How could he know if it was a dream or if it had all really happened, apart from waiting around in the entrance hall all day? By all accounts it had to have been a convoluted nightmare. After all, if it had really happened, how could he be waking up days before his intended departure?

For that matter, how could he be waking up at all? Hadn't he just been hit with Avada Kedavra?

A thought suddenly occurred to him. Of course, odds were that he had simply dreamt the whole thing up as a result of stress, but if he hadn't, there were several people who could confirm the experience.

"All right," he said again, returning his attention to Ron, who was already pulling on his uniform. "But – look, I don't really feel like talking just now. Can I meet you and Mione at breakfast? I think I'll go back to sleep for an hour or so."

"Whatever, mate." Ron clearly didn't want to press him. "We'll save you some bacon."

Harry lay back and pulled his hangings shut, listening to Ron rummage through his trunk for his socks. Five minutes later, the dormitory door opened and closed behind him and Harry was left alone with Neville's snores. Carefully, Harry poked his head out and eyed his other dorm mates. Neville was clearly fast asleep. Dean and Seamus were breathing evenly and appeared to still be unconscious.

Quietly, Harry slipped out of bed and pulled a uniform and robes from his trunk. He climbed back behind the four-poster's hanging and dressed quickly. He didn't want Ron to come back in and find him wide awake. Stuffing his pajamas under his pillow, he climbed back out and fished round his trunk for his Invisibility Cloak. It was right where he'd left it – buried beneath one of Dudley's hideous old sweaters. Harry pulled it out and flung it round his shoulders, pulling the hood up over his head.

He slipped down the stairs to the common room, and was unsurprised to see his best friends sitting in armchairs by the fire.

"Ill?" Hermione was staying anxiously.

"Nah – I reckon it was a night terror or something like it," Ron said. "He shouted something – that's what woke me up. And he was definitely not telling me everything when I asked him what was up."

"Well, you know Harry," Hermione sighed, with a funny mixture of affection and exasperation in her voice. "He'll talk when he's ready."

Harry took a moment to study his two best friends, allowing his mind to drift back into the visions still stunningly clear in his mind. Dorian Weasley's freckled, boyish face came instantly to mind and Harry couldn't help smiling as he noticed how the features of both Ron and Hermione had blended in their eldest son to create a bizarre combination of Ron's looks and personality with Hermione's ability to read people so well.

"Come on," the latter said at last. "He'll be hiding up in the dorm until we leave or sneak out with the Invisibility Cloak to make sure we're gone. He's good at hiding."

"He said he'd see us at breakfast," Ron said, sounding rather defensive.

"We might as well go down, then."

"Naw – can we just wait, Mione? I'm – er, well – I think something's really wrong."

Hermione stared at him a moment, then reached out and laced her fingers through his.

"It's all right, Ron," she said quietly, getting up and moving over to his chair. "I worry about him, too."

Harry watched his friends for a moment, wondering if either of them had ever considered the possibility that they would one day get married and have six children. The thought made him smile again. Ron would have loved Dorian – would love Dorian.

Because of course Dorian was real – right? Of course he was. Harry had just been standing beside him.

Or he thought he had been. The just-a-dream theory had yet to be disproved.

Moving quietly, Harry strode over to stand beside the girls' staircase. The first person he needed to talk to was Ginny. He only hoped he could get her attention without arousing suspicion from Ron or Hermione.

He waited twenty minutes, but no Ginny appeared and he began to worry – then to doubt. Of course it was still rather early and Ginny wasn't an early riser by nature. She was probably still asleep, untroubled by stupid dreams about the future . . .

"Look, Ron, it's getting late," Hermione said at last, making Harry jump. He turned to watch them again. "Either he's asleep or he's waiting for us to leave, but I just don't think Harry's coming down."

"Right."

Harry felt a guilty lurch in his gut at the disappointed look on Ron's face.

"Well," the redhead said, "I reckon I'll go get my books and we can be off."

They left, Ron going up to his and Harry's dorm and Hermione heading for her own. Harry made sure to give her plenty of room as she passed him up the girls' staircase. As she vanished, a new set of footsteps came clopping down, passing Hermione and coming into the common room.

"Psst – Ella!"

It was Ella Gray, one of Ginny's sixth year dorm mates. She looked around in confusion and Harry quickly pulled the cloak off.

"Oh! Morning, Harry," the brunette said brightly as he appeared, not looking in the least surprised to see the cloak. It was, after all, an open secret in Gryffindor Tower that he had it.

"Is Ginny up yet?" Harry asked quickly, holding the cloak ready to throw back over should Hermione come running down.

Ella gave him a sharp, almost mischievous look.

"Dunno. Her hangings were closed – I couldn't see if she was in bed or not. I could run up and check, if you'd like."

"Er – no, thanks," Harry mumbled, feeling rather deflated and realizing that Ella probably thought he was waiting to ask Ginny out or something dumb like that. "I'll just see her at breakfast, I guess."

Ella shrugged.

"I'll let her know you were asking after her," she offered, before joining Colin Creevey and leaving the common room.

Harry stood still for a moment after they left, his insides in knots. He could wait around until Ginny came down, but on a normal day, Ginny wasn't out of bed until ten minutes before class. At least, that was what Hermione had told him last summer when Ginny hadn't appeared until noon or later every day. He had never have time to catch her and make it to class. Anyway, he was still disinclined to speak with his best friends and if he waited around, they were sure to catch him. He would just have to hope he ran into Ginny at lunch.

Because if he hadn't been dreaming, Tristan and Hayden might still come back in time and might still get killed. If he could only confirm that it hadn't been a dream . . .

Why not ask Blaise? he wondered fleetingly. But no – odds were it hadn't been real and if so, explaining to Blaise that he had just had a rather graphic dream that involved them snogging more often than not would probably earn him a good hexing.

Unfortunately, there was only one other person he could ask.

Oh, right –Malfoy, his brain smirked at him. That would go over famously.

If he was wrong about all this, Malfoy would never, ever let him live it down.

With a frustrated sigh, Harry headed for the portrait hole, stuffing the Invisibility Cloak down the front of his robe for later use, and deciding to ride the day out and see what happened. There was still a chance that he could stop Red Robes alone, if in fact, there was such a person. He could station himself somewhere in the entrance hall sometime just after dinner. He was sure that there had been no witnesses to the murder before – otherwise it would have been all over the school. Harry guessed that Hayden, Tristan, and Red Robes' arrival must have fallen somewhere between seven and eight o'clock. So all he would have to do would be to hide himself in the entrance hall and wait.

Of course, there's a good chance that none of them even exist, he thought wryly. In which case, he would go to detention with Malfoy and get on with life. That was, if he could forget the incredible events in his dream. His daughter – and son.

And Blaise.

"Potter."

Harry blinked. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't realized how quickly his legs had carried him to the almost-deserted entrance hall. And standing before him . . .

Harry stared. It wasn't as though seeing Draco Malfoy was unusual, but – well, it was almost like seeing him in a totally different light. He felt strangely as though he knew more about Malfoy than he should. He didn't feel the volatile resentment rise in his chest the way it had so many times before. It wasn't as though he felt friendly towards his nemesis – it was more that he felt a reluctant kind of acceptance for the Slytherin.

"Draco, wait, I really need to tell you –"

Harry felt a bucket of ice settle in his stomach as Blaise Zabini came skidding to halt beside her housemate. Freshly showered and garbed in expensive robes, she looked absolutely stunning. And her hair was long again, he noticed with a jolt. But he was being silly – by all accounts she had never cut it.

Why would I be reacting this strongly if it was all only a dream? he wondered yet again, making a conscious effort not to gape, stare, or otherwise embarrass himself in front of the girl.

Said girl had broken off at the sight of him and met his gaze with a look of extreme caution.

"Potter," she said guardedly. Harry felt the ice slip lower – she looked suspicious. And why shouldn't she? He was gawking at her like a moron and they had hardly ever spoken to each other.

"Zabini," he nodded back, biting down the urge to call her 'Blaise.' Turning away so he wouldn't have to think about her, he said, "Malfoy – what do you want?"

"Nothing you've got," the blonde assured him acidly. Well, some things didn't change. "Snape just wanted me to remind you that we've got detention this evening."

"As if I could forget," Harry said, rather bitterly. Whatever wacky misadventures he might or might not have recently experienced, detention with Snape still made him feel ill. As he suppressed a shudder at the thought of the unpleasant evening he had to face, an idea occurred to him. Maybe he could coax a response out of Malfoy without asking point-blank if he remembered having just spent two weeks in the future.

"Right," he said carefully. "About detention – I may be a bit late. I have – something I need to take care of for – er, Dumbledore."

"Oh, really?" Malfoy sneered. "And what's that, exactly?"

"Dunno," Harry said, thinking fast. "But I'm supposed to meet him tonight in the entrance hall – sometime before eight."

Something flickered in Malfoy's pale eyes, but it wasn't quite enough. Harry tried again.

"He said," Harry went on, trying to keep an eye on both Blaise and Malfoy for any sign that they were reading into his meaning, "that it was a matter of life and death."

Bingo! Blaise's eyes widened and she put her hand to her mouth. Malfoy stared at him, his eyes sharpening. He eyed Harry in a calculating manner.

"This 'matter of life and death,'" he said, dropping his voice as a group of Hufflepuffs passed them. "It wouldn't have anything to do with – avoiding future issues with Snape?"

Slowly, Harry nodded.

Abruptly, Blaise threw herself into his arms. Completely unprepared for this, Harry stumbled backward and was only saved from a nasty fall by the banister at his back. What she said next put him off still more.

"Oh, thank Merlin my hair is normal again!"

"Oh, that's nice!" Harry said, pulling back and glaring at her. "After all we've been through and you're just happy you have your hair back."

"Not here!" Malfoy hissed, dragging Blaise backward by her robes before she could come up with a sufficient rejoinder. "Come on, Blaise, get a grip! What kind of Slytherin throws themself at a Gryffindor in broad daylight?"

"Is that a question or –"

"Shut up!"

Harry felt a shaky grin spread across his face.

"I never would have believed that anything you had to say would make me feel better, Malfoy," he said, raising his eyebrow.

"That makes two of us."

They glanced up as Ginny came slowly down the stairs. Harry turned quickly back and saw Malfoy swallow and offer the redhead a very poor attempt at a sneer. Thankful though he was that they were all on the same page, he felt that the four of them behaving in a semi-friendly way in broad daylight, as Malfoy put it, was asking for trouble.

Blaise seemed to be feeling the same way.

"Come on," she said quietly. "We need to talk."

She turned and led the way toward the double doors that led onto the front lawn.

"There's a little alcove set into the side of the steps outside," Ginny said. "No one will be coming out this early and even if they did, they couldn't see us from the stairs –"

"Harry!"

Harry whirled. Ron and Hermione were coming down the stairs from Gryffindor Tower. Glancing quickly around, Harry realized that the wall was blocking their view and they could probably only see him.

"Quick!" he hissed at Malfoy. "Say something terrible!"

"Like what?" Malfoy shot back, looking confused.

"Like this: Oh, that's nice, Draco! I thought we had an understanding and now I find that you're following this little redheaded bint around! Oh, how could you?" And with a backhand that Malfoy only just pulled back from in time to avoid receiving serious injury, Blaise let out a wail and ran out through the double doors.

"Right," he muttered, staring after with something akin to admiration. Then he turned back to Harry with a scowl and said loudly, "We're not through here, Potter."

He turned and followed Blaise through the double doors.

"What the hell was that about?" Ron demanded as he came up behind them.

"The usual," Ginny said, and Harry noticed her hand travel up to cover her twitching lips.

"The usual being . . . ?" Hermione prompted, eyeing them both beadily.

"Insulting the family, and Harry, and my existence in general," Ginny said, just managing to sound annoyed about it. "Anyway, Harry and I were just off for a walk around the lake."

"I thought you wanted a bit of a lie-in, mate," Ron said, looking a little hurt. "We waited for you."

"Sorry – I couldn't sleep and I didn't feel much like talking," Harry said apologetically, feeling guilty. "I was going to sneak out for a walk and I met Gin on the way and then we ran into Malfoy."

"Uh-huh." Ron still looked hurt.

"Er – perhaps we should go in to breakfast?" Hermione suggested tentatively.

"You two go on," Ginny said quickly. "I wanted to ask Harry about something."

"We'll walk round the lake and meet you in the Great Hall in ten minutes?" Harry offered, feeling the guilt gnaw a bit deeper.

"All right," Hermione said, with another piercing look. "Come on, Ron." She led the reluctant redhead away by the hand.

"What a nosy prat," Ginny said unsympathetically, watching her brother's retreating form in genuine annoyance.

"He's just worried – I think I gave him a fright this morning," Harry told her quietly, leading the way outside. "I guess I shouted a bit before I woke up and I kept asking him random things about the date and Quidditch. I reckon I would have been worried in his position."

"I don't think I yelled or anything," Ginny said as they descended the steps. "I was really cold and sweaty, though. I thought it was a terrible dream so I stayed buried in my bed until Ella was gone and the others were in the loo. Then I snuck out. Come on – hopefully Blaise and Draco found the little niche thing." She led him down the remaining steps and then stepped around the railing and followed it back toward the junction of the staircase and the building. Suddenly she stopped.

"Harry," she said in a low voice. "I know it's weird, but – I'm so glad it wasn't a dream!"

"Me, too," Harry said, looking down at the ground. "So – what do you reckon? Will we grow up remembering how we went forward and messed with the future?"

"Doubt it," Ginny said. "Remember, our older selves didn't seem to have any memory of doing it themselves." She gave a frustrated sigh. "I really, really wish we'd known more about time before we got into this mess."

"You're telling me!" Harry muttered self-reproachfully. "I mean, I knew how going back worked; that's pretty straightforward. But the future – well, it's different."

"We'll know tonight whether anything we did made any difference," Ginny said. "If Tris and Hayden still come back in time, we might be able to save them. If they don't – well, we won't need to save them."

Harry shook his head as they came to the little alcove Ginny had described. Sure enough, Blaise and Malfoy sat on the single stone bench, talking quietly and looking grim.

"We've got ten minutes before Ron and Mione come looking for me and Gin," Harry told them without preamble. "What're we going to do?"

He fully expected Malfoy to insist, once again, that they keep their noses out of things that weren't their business anymore. He also rather expected Malfoy to point out that the last time they had tried to be useful, they'd all been killed by someone who was supposed to be on their side. Well, not killed exactly, but –

"Like you said, Potter, we need to be in the entrance hall between seven and eight," the blonde said. "If Hayden and Tristy show up, we get to Red Robes before he gets to them. If they don't – well, we'll know we got something right."

They all stared at him.

"Are you suggesting," Ginny said slowly, "that we do something to help someone else?"

"My charitable nature amazes even me, sometimes," Malfoy said dryly. "Yes, I'm suggesting we give 'em a hand. Hell, the kid's my son and Potter's pipsqueak daughter was actually growing on me."

"I'm sure she'll be pleased to know," Blaise said, with a small smile, her eyes flicking up to meet Harry's. Harry felt the familiar melting sensation in his stomach and a bit of 'jelloid knees' coming on, but he had enough command of himself to return her smile and not do anything stupid like melt into a puddle at her feet.

"Moving on," Malfoy said pointedly.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Right," he said. "So, the entrance hall?"

"I think we should each be in a corner," Blaise said. "We don't know where exactly they'll all appear and one of us has to be in range to get Red Robes."

"Provided Red Robes shows up at all," Malfoy pointed out.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Well, we were all killed before we saw what happened to him," the Slytherin said grimly. "For all we know, he could be setting a trap for us or something, with the help of Dumbledore and Company from the future."

"Let's look at it this way," Blaise said slowly, her face tense. "Longbottom, Dumbledore, and Cedric killed us, but we're not dead, are we? And I remember Ced saying he hoped he could explain it to me someday. Clearly they knew that killing us wasn't really killing us."

"You mean they knew we'd get sent back?" Harry asked, wondering why he hadn't thought of this before. Then he remembered the reverie he had forgotten in the wake of Draco's surprising speech. "That does make sense. They let us in to Avalon – they were expecting us. And Dumbledore did take us out into the field to –"

"– send us to our proper time," Ginny quoted, snapping her fingers. "He just hadn't gotten around to saying how he intended to do that!"

"Makes sense," Blaise said slowly. "And he said – something about an owl."

"I sent him one when he first arrived at Red's Park," Harry explained. "I guess he got it and knew we shouldn't be there."

"You suppose he knew Red Robes was after us, too?" Ginny asked. "Nev said someone let him in, and none of them seemed surprised to see him."

"Like they knew he'd follow us and they might have a chance to catch him if he showed up in Avalon?" Blaise said, sounding doubtful. "In that case, they might have caught him and we wouldn't have anything to worry about, would we?"

"All of which brings us back to Red Robes' motive – why was he there in the first place?" Malfoy said, rubbing his temples. "I'm getting a headache!"

"Well, he tried to swap Tristy for future me, didn't he?" Blaise said. "Obviously, he wanted me for some reason."

"Not you, either – he said he wanted the older you because your blood wasn't potent enough yet," Harry pointed out. "Plus, the guy had a Time-Turner. If he'd wanted just any old you, he'd've gone back and taken you when you were a baby, wouldn't he? You know, completely defenseless, as opposed to being a fully trained witch."

"'Witch' with a 'b', you mean?" Malfoy added, lifting his head out of his hands to reveal a wicked smirk.

"You're one to talk," Harry retorted, pulling Blaise toward him protectively.

Ginny giggled so hard she snorted.

"Oh, very attractive, little weasel," Malfoy said, but his smirk wasn't the condescending smirk of old, but rather a look of supreme amusement at her expense.

"He's got a point, you know, oh albino one," Ginny sniggered. "By the way, Blaise, isn't it wonderful having long hair again?"

"Brilliant!" Blaise agreed, running a hand through hers.

"Now that we've gone completely off-topic," Harry said, still smiling.

"Right," Ginny agreed, trying to control herself.

Malfoy nodded. "So – Blaise is a bi –"

"No, you git!" Ginny snapped, slapping his arm none-too-gently. "Red Robes. He wanted the future Blaise, not the seventeen-year-old."

"What could he have wanted her blood for?" Malfoy murmured, his smirk sliding into a thoughtful frown.

"Her forty-year-old blood," Harry corrected absently.

"All right, let's back up," Ginny suggested. "Dumbledore is hiding with Blaise and Nev in Avalon. Avalon, as a place, is important. It's protected by ancient magic. Obviously, it's no accident that they're there. If someone is after Blaise then hiding her there with Neville, who we know became an Auror and Dumbledore, arguably the most powerful wizard of our time, explains a lot. It stands to reason that you – " indicating the Blaise sitting before her – "left your family to protect yourself and them, not because you were having an affair with Neville."

"Seems likely," Harry jumped in, noticing that Blaise was opening and closing her mouth indignantly, probably trying to decide how to tell Ginny just what she thought of Neville. "What else do we know about Avalon?"

"Merlin opened one of the first magic schools there," Malfoy said, smirking at Blaise's volatile expression. "Before that, he brought the Holy Grail there to be protected by his magic and the monks who lived there."

"You were listening to Neville?" Ginny asked in surprise.

"Nothing better to do," he retorted defensively.

"Sure," Ginny said, with a little grin.

"What?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Ginny said quickly, covering her mouth. "So – I know we weren't there very long, but did anyone hear what happened to the Grail?"

"It's probably still there," Blaise guessed. "I figured it was connected with that weird tree thing that Dumbledore said was full of magic, but I didn't give it much thought. It might be the magic of the Grail protecting Avalon in the first place."

"It's got to be important," Harry agreed. "It supposedly has incredible powers. It holds the blood of Jesus Christ, and is supposed to give the drinker youth and eternal life."

"It makes more sense for Red Robes to want the Grail, then, than Blaise," Malfoy said, scratching his head. "Hell! This doesn't make any sense!"

"Harry, we've got to head back," Ginny said suddenly, glancing around. "I'm sure we've been gone ten minutes."

"One more thing," Blaise said quickly. "If Red Robes does show up, should we – should we kill him?"

They stared at each other grimly, unsure what to think.

"Well," Ginny said at length. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea. I mean, no one else knows what he's done. Which ever of us performed the Killing Curse –" she shuddered – "would definitely be sent to Azkaban. And to be honest –" she hesitated. "Well, I dunno if I could bring myself to do it."

Harry felt his insides clench. He had always assumed that one day he or someone else would have to use Avada Kedavra on Voldemort and having a feeling that he would be the one to do it, he had always tried to reconcile himself to the idea of killing. But faced with such a decision now . . .

"No – we shouldn't," Malfoy agreed.

Again, they all gaped at him.

"Would you lot stop that?" he snapped irritably. "I'm not a complete monster, you know."

"Well –" Harry began, but Ginny elbowed him hard.

"Why shouldn't we kill him, Draco?" she asked, while Harry resentfully rubbed his ribs.

"Because he had a Time-Turner," Malfoy explained, glaring at Harry. "We have no idea what time he's from. We kill him, he might do what we did – snap back to his correct time like we did. Then he'd be lost and he could come back and kill Tristy and Hayden again."

They all thought about this for a moment.

"Agreed," Harry said at last. "Stunning or disarming. Anything to keep him in our time."

"What do we do if we catch him?" Ginny asked nervously.

"Take him to Dumbledore," Harry said promptly.

"Fine. Now you two need to go sedate Weasley before he sends a search party," Malfoy said, waving them away.

"Where can we meet tonight?" Blaise asked.

"How about the Owlry?" Ginny suggested. "Then Harry and I can go down under the Invisibility Cloak and you two can pretend to be out for a stroll."

"Ron and Hermione will expect me to go, because we've got detention tonight," Harry said to Malfoy.

"And Ron won't care where I am," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Prat."

Malfoy smirked at her appreciatively.

"Look, since you two supposedly have detention anyway, why don't Weasley and I go under the cloak and you two can pretend to be going to detention," Blaise offered.

"And if anyone meets us along the way, it's not like it'll be extremely suspicious that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are suddenly getting along," Malfoy pointed out sarcastically.

"You can argue all-l-l-l the way down, then," Ginny said brightly, winking mischievously at Harry. Malfoy snorted in reluctant acquiescence and Blaise gave Ginny an appreciative look.

"Well, see you tonight, then," Harry said, taking Ginny's arm and pulling her out of the alcove. "Come on."

"Potter."

Harry turned back to Blaise questioningly. She hesitated, then reached out and pulled his mouth down to hers for a brief, intense kiss. Harry felt a current pass from his toes to the tips of his ears at the well-remembered warmth of her lips on his. She pulled back, looking a bit flushed. The look they shared spoke volumes; relief that they were still alive and that their feelings for each other hadn't changed in the slightest.

"Blaise, what have I told you about corrupting the innocents?" Malfoy's annoyed drawl came from behind them.

"Jealous, Malfoy?" Harry said with a cocky grin. He squeezed Blaise's hand and then followed a smiling Ginny from the alcove.

"Extremely, Potter."

Harry turned to stare at him in astonishment for a moment. Malfoy glowered almost balefully back at him and suddenly Harry understood.

"Well, get a move on, then," he said simply, allowing his eyes to flicker to Ginny for a moment. Malfoy's followed unconsciously, but only for a moment. Silently, Harry turned back with Ginny and the Gryffindors made their way back up to the Great Hall.

"I think you're warming up to him," Ginny said abruptly as they mounted the steps.

"What – to Malfoy?" Harry scoffed.

"Sure," Ginny shrugged. "I mean, you still snipe at each other – some things never change. Even in the future you did that. But you don't react so – so viciously to each other anymore."

Harry opened his mouth to deny this, but he couldn't. She was right – Malfoy was far from being his favorite person. But his better understanding the blonde's character made it easier for him to endure his company. Harry thought back to his reaction that morning upon first seeing Malfoy. He hadn't felt hostile or any of that. He certainly remembered his feelings about the blonde before their escapade and they were vastly different from his feelings now.

It was a shock to discover that he didn't even dislike Malfoy anymore.

"It's funny how alike you two are, actually," Ginny went on, oblivious to Harry's reveries. "You're both sort of dry and sarcastic. You're both loyal, in your own way. You're both complete introverts."

"But – but he's pale as death," Harry said, horrified at being compared to the Slytherin. Sure, he didn't really dislike him anymore, but there were lines still to be drawn! "And he's a Slytherin."

"Oh, for goodness sake, Harry!" Ginny snapped in exasperation. "Weren't Tristy and Hayden obvious examples of the similarities between the Houses? Tristy, the Slytherin, acted more like a Gryffindor than Hayden. Hayden was everything Slytherin except that he wasn't one! Didn't you almost get sorted into Slytherin?"

"How do you know about that?" Harry demanded, coloring slightly.

"I heard you talking to Ron and Hermione, of course," she said impatiently. "But look at you – practically sorted into Slytherin and yet you're every Gryffindor's idol! Just because you're sorted into one House doesn't mean you don't possess qualities from all the others. Hermione, for example. Neville. Luna. The list goes on."

Harry thought about this. But it was true – Ginny was absolutely right – again. Gryffindors avoided Slytherins mainly out of pride. Slytherins avoided Gryffindors to uphold some sort of reputation they fancied they had. But the Houses were almost mirror images of each other. What might have happened if he hadn't met Ron on the train and had accepted Malfoy's friendship in first year?

Harry was still deep in thought about this when Ginny led him into the Great Hall.

"About time, too!" Ron called as they approached the Gryffindor table. Harry sank into a seat beside Hermione, still lost in thought and Ginny slid in next to Ron across the table.

"Anything wrong?" Hermione asked. Her question was general, but clearly directed at Harry.

"No," he lied, spearing a bit of ham on the end of his fork.

"Ron said you had a nightmare," Hermione pressed. "It wasn't – well, it wasn't a fifth year kind of nightmare, was it?"

She meant was he still having nightmares that turned out to be frighteningly accurate representations of future events. This had happened throughout his fifth year and, although he hadn't made an issue out of it, a few times in his first four years at Hogwarts as well. No one could explain why it happened – Dumbledore's best guess, when applied to for his opinion, was that it had something to do with Harry's connection to Voldemort via the rebounded Killing Curse.

Harry suddenly realized that in a funny kind of way, he was relieved that they had Red Robes on their hands. He was a most welcome distraction from the constant pressure of Voldemort. It would be equally nice if they managed to catch him. Triumph was beginning to feel quite alien to Harry.

"No," he finally answered Hermione's question, realizing that his companions were staring expectantly at him. "Nothing like that."

"You're sure?" Ron asked doubtfully.

"Yes," Harry said in exasperation. "I'd know if it was. Those dreams are distinctive – this one – um, wasn't."

"So," Hermione went on after a pause. "Do you remember it?"

"Er –" Harry threw a glance at Ginny, who shook her head minutely. "No – not really. I think it was – er, about Malfoy and someone else." He didn't want to lie outright to Ron and Hermione, so half-truths would have to do.

"Malfoy?" Ron shuddered. "I'd have been yelling, too!"

Hermione tutted at him and Harry had the sudden, wicked urge to tell Hermione what Ron had been dreaming about. He resisted, feeling that he had given Ron a bad enough time this morning, first by yelling him awake and then ditching him for his little sister's company.

"Yeah," Harry said, throwing a glance across the Great Hall. Malfoy and Blaise had taken seats at the Slytherin table. Blaise was popping slices of fruit absentmindedly into her mouth, staring at nothing. Malfoy was chatting with one of his Quidditch teammates, looking as though he hadn't a care in the world.

Harry could only wish he possessed such skill himself. He had a feeling it was going to be a tense day.

)PvsM(

In fact, Draco had no idea what he was saying to Jason Higgs. He was letting his mouth deal with it while his mind roamed free and wild. His and Blaise's chat with Ginny and Potter had given him a lot to think about. It was frustrating, being almost positive that something would happen and not being able to do much to prepare. Their best chance was catching Red Robes and then convincing Dumbledore to give him Veritaserum.

Draco had wondered in the beginning about just going to Dumbledore and letting him catch Red Robes. After all, Dumbledore was one of the best duelers of the century. If he had a go, they would surely get Red Robes. But as Draco thought about it, he realized that there might be good reasons for leaving the old man out of this as well. To begin with, Potter had originally stolen a Time-Turner from McGonagall, which was very illegal. As they had reappeared in their present several days prior to the day he had actually stolen it, Draco assumed it would still be in McGonagall's office, but the fact remained that there had been a stolen Time-Turner involved and they would all be in for it if anyone found out before they caught Red Robes and could prove the theft necessary. Also, thus far they had had no visitors from the future and if they didn't come tonight there was no need to alarm anyone else on the score of their bad conduct in messing with time (also highly illegal).

There was also the chance that, after their subjection to the Killing Curse, Potter was no longer sure whether or not to trust Dumbledore. Draco certainly didn't know what to think. Everyone was acting so – well, so unlike themselves that it was difficult to rely on what one thought one knew about the people involved. For a good while, he'd been convinced that Blaise was behind it all, but Red Robes had snatched Tristan in the midst of two Blaises and then tried to barter for one of them later. Draco saw enough evidence to convince him that Blaise was completely innocence. And then there was Potter's son. Draco hadn't trusted Cedric in the beginning, either, but Tristan had put such faith in him that it was hard not to trust her judgment (after all, she had known him the longest). And he had gone and betrayed them to their deaths – sort of.

And Neville Longbottom, for Merlin's sake!

"Damn it!" Blaise muttered next to him. "I hate not being able to do anything!"

She wasn't really speaking to him. Her gaze was fixed on the table, one hand tangled in her long, dark hair. A moment later, obviously not realizing that he had heard her, she lifted her gaze and sent a piercing look toward the Gryffindor table.

"For Merlin's sake, stop staring at him!" Draco snapped under his breath, his own level of irritation rising several notches.

"And bloody Creevey got the Quaffle, of course, so I – sorry, did you say something, Draco?" Higgs asked, blinking at him.

"No – go on," Draco said, dismissively.

"I'm not staring!" Blaise muttered at him.

"You are!" he insisted out of the corner of his mouth, careful to keep his eyes on Higgs.

"Not," she mumbled peevishly.

"Are," he coughed into his napkin.

"Who's Blaise staring at?" Pansy asked eagerly across the table, eyeing her dorm mate.

To Draco's surprise, Blaise ignored her and went back to her breakfast. She also ignored Draco most determinedly. This suited Draco fine. It was difficult to argue, listen attentively, and be deep in thought at the same time, even for him.

However, since deep thought on the subject only resulted in another headache, Draco eventually gave up, told Higgs rather abruptly that he had some work to complete before class, and left the Great Hall.

He was less than half way across the entrance hall when Ginny caught up with him.

"So," she said, as he came to a halt and turned to look at her. "Where're you off to?"

"Dunno," he admitted, realizing with a small smirk that it had been around this time the following morning that she had originally jumped him here and told him to leave off Potter. What bizarre changes two technically non-existent weeks had wrought, he thought.

"Oh." Ginny looked down. "Er – fancy a walk round the lake?"

"What, aren't you worried your brother'll get suspicious?" he asked, rather surprised at the invitation.

She shrugged.

"He's too busy worrying about Harry to notice," she said flatly. He quirked an eyebrow and she hurried on. "Not that he's always like that. I mean, he does care. But Harry's got a lot on his mind right now and I know –"

"I didn't ask for an explanation, you know," he said. "If your brother wants to ignore you, bully for him."

She stared resentfully back at him, her eyes clouding.

"There's no need to be nasty about it," she said quietly. "I know you're better than that."

"How?" he retorted coldly. "Two weeks doesn't make you an expert." Why was he feeling so defensive all of a sudden? They both knew that their two weeks spent in close proximity had changed everything.

"Except that it does," she snapped, her hands flying to her hips in a gesture that reminded Draco a bit of Tristy. "Forget it, Draco. We all know you – and each other – very well by now. Even Harry admitted –" but she broke off quickly, looking away again.

"What?" Draco demanded. "What did Potter say?"

"It's his business to tell you," Ginny mumbled. Clearing her throat, she looked back at him, her expression dark. "Anyway, I can't speak for Harry or Blaise, but I know something's different between you and I."

He stared at her, feeling a swirl of unfamiliar emotion in his stomach. Clenching his teeth, he bit out, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Weasley."

"Of course not," she said quietly, her expression shifting from angry to hurt in a minute. "Of course not." She stared at him for a long moment, her penetrating gaze making Draco want to squirm. He didn't – Malfoys didn't squirm – but his insides lurched a bit as he stared determinedly back. He knew perfectly well why he was reacting to her this way – chances were, so did she. But he was far from ready to admit it, or allow her the power over him that, deep down, he knew she already had.

The long moment passed when Ginny, disgusted or hurt, abruptly turned and strode away without a backward glance. This sudden departure took Draco completely by surprise and it took him a moment to find his voice.

"Hey!" he called after her retreating back, hurrying to catch up as she mounted the stairs, evidently heading back to Gryffindor Tower. Her pace didn't slow. If anything, she sped up.

"Oi, Weasley!" he tried again, taking the steps between them two at a time. "I'm still talking to you."

"Whoopee," Ginny called back sardonically, her pace quickening still more.

"Just – just wait a minute!" he said, trying to be patient. Technically, he had been the one causing offense, after all.

"Why, so you can blow me off again?" she demanded, stepping off into the second-floor corridor.

"Where're you going?" he asked, evasively.

"Charms!" she snapped, striding along.

"Without your books?" he couldn't help sniggering.

Ginny swore.

"Colorfully put, Miss Weasley," came a new voice from just behind Draco. It took the blonde a considerable amount of self-restraint not to jump three feet in the air like Ginny. Both froze, and then pivoted slowly to face the twinkling blue eyes and shock of white hair that was Albus Dumbledore.

"Headmaster," they both mumbled.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy," he said, his lip twitching. "And how are you both this fine morning?"

"Fine, sir." Draco felt as though he had been caught rule breaking.

"Good, good!" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together. "A goodnight's sleep does wonders for the spirit, does it not?"

Draco's head snapped up and he stared at the headmaster. Peripherally, he noticed Ginny tense.

"I – I guess it does," he said cautiously. "Except," he added, watching the old man carefully, "when you get nightmares and the like."

No doubt about it. Dumbledore's eyes sharpened, just for an instant. Then the look was gone, and he nodded in acquiescence.

"Indeed – on the other hand, a nightmare can be a very enlightening thing," he added. "Mr. Potter has had a number of strange dreams that have been very – revealing." Dumbledore seemed lost in thought. Then he blinked and returned his attention to Ginny and Draco.

"Well, well," he said, beaming at the pair of them. "I expect you both need to get off to class."

"Yes, sir," they both said, sharing a meaningful glance.

"Good morning, Ginny – Draco," the headmaster said, turning and strolling off down the corridor, probably toward his office.

"Well," Ginny said, blinking after him. "That was –"

"He knows," Draco cut her off. He was sure of it. All that rubbish about nightmares – what were the odds that he had just randomly pulled a topic like that out of his overlarge hat?

"Maybe." Ginny glanced nervously at him. "But – well, Draco, he killed us before, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but look where we ended up," Draco said, the headache returning. "We didn't die. If he'd meant us to – well, he's powerful enough and knows more than enough about magic to nail us if he'd wanted to. I can't believe I'm defending the old bat."

Ginny gave him a small smile.

"Me, neither," she said. "It's supposed to be me doing that."

Slowly she turned and led the way back toward the stairs. She seemed lost in thought.

"Why'd you originally come this way, anyway?" Draco asked, trying to conquer the silence. He couldn't stop thinking about the puzzles that were yet to be solved and he was getting tired of possessing such a one-track mind.

"Charms, remember?" she said. She sighed. "I don't really want to go to class, actually. I'd really rather the whole day just passed so we can get Red Robes."

"Damned annoying to have to sit around waiting," he agreed. He paused. "If I poisoned you, you wouldn't have to go to class."

She actually laughed.

"Oh, Draco," she sighed, grinning at him.

"What?" he muttered defensively, following her up the stairs. "I was serious."

)PvsM(

Blaise watched Ginny wander out of the Great Hall after Draco, and smirked. She doubted anyone else had noticed – except maybe Potter.

She glanced across the hall and sure enough his eyes were on the doors as they swung shut behind the redhead. He wore a most peculiar expression; he looked both amused and worried, his forehead furrowed in thought. Blaise felt her smirk slide almost imperceptibly into a smile as she watched him. He didn't notice, but ran a hand through his lengthening hair, then removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

Blaise continued to watch as Granger, seated beside him, leaned over and rested a hand on his arm, clearly asking concernedly after him. Blaise felt a stab of jealousy in her chest, but he simply turned his head a bit and offered her a reassuring smile, returning her inquiry quietly.

Suddenly he lifted his head and was staring directly back at her. Blaise was so surprised that for a moment she held his gaze. He looked surprised to catch her watching him, but after a moment he offered her an almost wicked smile.

And Blaise blushed!

She tore her gaze away, determined to look anywhere but at him. She couldn't believe it. Never had a boy made her blush! She was always the one in control, the one to provoke the blushing. And now here she was – Blaise Zabini, seductress extraordinaire – with her cheeks burning, because of the suggestive smile of Harry Potter, Hogwarts' number one good-boy.

She was infinitely grateful that Draco was gone.

"Harry Potter?"

Blaise glanced up to see Pansy gaping at her in a most unattractive way.

"You were staring at Potter?" Pansy demanded incredulously.

"Of course not," Blaise snapped, eyes returning to her bowl of fruit.

"You're blushing, Blaise," Pansy said, now absolutely disbelieving. Blaise could feel her housemate's beady gaze on her. "Since when is he even close to your league?"

Since I discovered I'm going to have his babies and that I'm in love with him, she thought.

Wait – she was in love with him?

Oh, no.

"Oh, no-no-no!" she moaned, dropping her head into her arms. "Oh, goddess, no!"

"What is with you this morning?" Pansy demanded. "First you fight with Draco, then you spend breakfast mentally undressing Potter, and now you're talking to yourself!"

"Leave me alone, Pans," Blaise said into her arms. "Draco can rot and I wasn't looking at Potter."

"Well, you were staring at someone at the Gryff table," Pansy retorted. Blaise lifted her head out of her arms and saw Pansy squinting across the hall. Her eyes widened in horror. "Pul-eese tell me you weren't eyeballing Weasley!"

"For Merlin's sake, give it a rest!" Blaise snarled, pushing back her chair and getting quickly to her feet. She ignored the startled looks of some of the surrounding Slytherins. "I'm not in the mood for the third degree right now."

"And you're moody," Pansy mumbled as Blaise stalked out of the hall with her nose in the air. Once the door closed on her and she stood, mercifully alone, in the deserted entrance hall Blaise wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. It was just too much. She leaned heavily against one of the stone pillars beside the double doors to the Great Hall and stared bleakly at the ceiling.

Beside her the door opened and closed quietly and Blaise quickly looked up.

"What're you doing out here?" Blaise demanded, rather more harshly than she meant to.

"Well, you seemed so keen on gaping at me that I thought I'd give you another chance at it," Harry offered with a faint smile, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Blaise bit her lip. Pansy's talk of mental undressing was doing unsettling things to her mind, and she had to exercise quite a bit of self control not to give Harry a good looking over.

"Go away, Potter," she muttered.

"Sure – if that's what you want." A simple statement that was positively loaded with challenge. Blaise looked up sharply and Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. She studied him for a long moment, undecided whether to laugh or to flee. When she still hadn't decided a few moments later, Harry spoke again.

"Look, Blaise," he said quietly as people began to trickle out of the Great Hall. "I don't –" he paused. "I mean, it's not that I didn't –" another pause. "That is, I –" he looked hopelessly lost and Blaise felt a crooked smile creep onto her face.

"Kneazle got your tongue, Potter?"

"You're not helping," he said, trying to sound cross.

Her grin broadened.

"Would it be half so much fun if I made things easy for you?"

He smiled himself.

"I guess not," he admitted. "Look." He glanced toward the Great Hall, which was now emptying at a more rapid rate. "We need to talk, but I reckon now's probably not the best time."

"Right," Blaise said, taking a deep breath. "Can it wait until after we deal with Red Robes tonight?"

He looked surprised.

"I – I guess," he said, his brow furrowing. "So – um, the Owlry; quarter to seven?"

"Sure; I'll let Draco know." And without another word, she slipped around him and disappeared. She could feel his eyes boring into her back as she retreated toward the staircase leading down to the dungeon and realized with a groan that their first lesson was Potions, a class which she shared with both Potter and Draco.

Oh, hell, she thought, stomping down the stairs. Now what am I supposed to do?

)PvsM(

His confusing encounter with Blaise had left him in a rather edgy mood, which was hardly helped by the recollection that his first class of the day was Potions. How he had made it into N.E.W.T.-level Potions with Snape breathing down his neck he had no idea. All he knew was that it was just as loathsome now as it had been when he had had Ron in there with him – perhaps more so because the class was much smaller now. Ron had been spared two more years with Snape by making the potion he was supposed to be brewing for his O.W.L. practical exam implode somehow (Harry and Hermione had always suspected that he had done it on purpose).

Harry trudged up the steps to Gryffindor Tower, his mind moving from Snape's greasy hair and hooked nose to Blaise's strange behavior. She had thrown herself at him in the entrance hall that morning, and then kissed him under the stairs. Why was she suddenly playing coy?

Coy, or perhaps she was at last beginning to wonder why she had allied herself, and then practically thrown herself, at Harry.

He sighed distractedly, pushing a hand through his hair. He had finally found a girl who didn't fawn over his scar and who he was absurdly mad about and he had somehow scared her off.

Typical, he thought, banging his way into the common room and glad Ron and Hermione were still at breakfast.

He retrieved his Potions text, parchment, and quill for his dormitory and then made his solitary way down to the dungeons, his mood growing more pensive and irritable with every step. It didn't help in the least that Blaise was going to be in there, within speaking distance, effectively distracting him the entire period.

And Malfoy, he thought, his mood suddenly turning thoughtful. The situation of affairs between them had been drastically altered, technically overnight. To go from sworn enemies to tolerant companions in less than twelve hours would seem awfully suspicious.

Especially since they had just been given their detention the night before for brawling in the corridors.

Harry grinned suddenly as he descended the dungeon steps. On the other hand, they could spend the rest of the year really messing with Snape's head. Bloody shame Malfoy actually liked the git.

Harry entered the frigid, musty classroom, taking a seat near the middle and unloading his cauldron. The rest of the class trickled in, though Malfoy and Blaise were among the last to enter. They came in together, and Harry figured that they had probably been discussing the Red Robes situation. Blaise's eyes met his almost immediately, though she only nodded coolly at him as she passed him toward the "Slytherin side" of the room.

"Harry!"

Harry tore his gaze from Blaise and Malfoy, who was rolling his eyes expressively at them both. Hermione was just setting her cauldron and books down beside him, looking exasperated.

"Where were you?" she demanded.

"What?" Harry stared at her.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" she asked, looking a little hurt.

"Sorry," he said. "I was – uh, preoccupied."

"Anything wrong?" Hermione asked, the hurt giving way to curiosity and a bit of anxiety. She lowered her voice as she began unloading her cauldron of ingredients. "Was it that nightmare?"

"Kind of," Harry said, desperately trying not to lie while at the same time maneuvering the conversation into safer waters. "So – did you understand what Snape meant about adding the goat's eyelashes after the squid tentacle had turned orange?"

Hermione was clearly not thrown off his trail by this abrupt change of subject, but she also knew when not to push it and quietly explained the finer points of the potion to him. However, just as she was getting completely carried away with details, Snape came storming in through his office door. As usual, he looked disgusted when he saw that Harry was sitting quietly in his seat and not doing anything that would allow him to take points from Gryffindor.

"Today," the greasy professor said without preamble, "we will begin brewing one of the most complex potions ever invented. Veritaserum is the strongest Truth Potion ever conceived and is absolute. Ingest more than two drops and you might find yourself spilling your darkest secrets to everyone in sight." He gave Harry a nasty look, and Harry was sure he was wishing that he had carried through with his threat to Harry in fourth year of slipping a large gulp-full of the stuff into his goblet at breakfast. Harry stared innocently back, feeling a horrible desire to smirk. If Snape only knew the secrets he was currently concealing . . .

Harry's eyes flicked to Malfoy, who was grinning gleefully at him. Harry quickly withdrew his eyes, afraid that he might start grinning as well, and fastened them steadily on his desk.

"Do you find this lecture particularly amusing, Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt the muscles working furiously in his jaw as he fought back the smile. Looking up and over Snape's shoulder at the blackboard, he said quietly, "No, sir."

"Then I suggest you stop smirking," Snape snarled at him. "Five points from Gryffindor."

Harry felt the amusement leave him in a rush, like air from a balloon. Whatever he might know about Snape in the future, it did nothing for his opinion of him in the present. He held the professor's gaze until Snape turned back to his lecture (with a most aggravating sneer) and then let his eyes flick instinctively to Blaise, as though for consolation. She was watching him quietly, and offered him a sympathetic little smile behind her hand. She flicked her eyes at Malfoy, who was still looking amused, and rolled them as if to remind him that some things never changed.

Harry felt the moment of mutual understanding settle into his stomach like a soothing drink of butterbeer. Whether she shied from him or not, Blaise was obviously still harboring feelings for him. That was something, anyway. And in all fairness, she had valid reasons for being anxious about their involvement. Quite apart from the censure of their housemates, their son's existence hung in the balance. If he and Blaise didn't – well, sleep together (Harry blushed and tried to bury himself in his Potions notes) – in the near future, Cedric might never exist. And there was the small matter of a looming war with Voldemort. How would that affect their relationship? In the future they had seen it had mattered little that Harry could tell.

It was Blaise's desertion – presumably to protect herself and family from whomever was after her forty-year-old self – that had hurt Harry and their children. Knowing that could still happen, should he still involve himself with her? Knowing that he and his son would be alienated, knowing that his daughter would hurt every day that her mother wasn't with her – would they still take those risks?

Now that we know these things will happen, they shouldn't be a certainty, Harry told himself firmly as he rose from his seat to cue for water at the stone sink in the corner of the classroom. They could find other ways to protect Blaise, presumably ways that could involve Harry this time, since he knew her to be in danger.

Or would the danger all pass if Red Robes was caught tonight?

That's where the answer lies, Harry thought, stepping up to the sink and turning on the tap. If we catch Red Robes, we'll know everything.

)PvsM(

Ginny had never thought she would see the day when she wanted to be in class with Draco Malfoy. But she did, rather desperately, wish that she was in seventh year Potions. At the moment, she was in Charms and enjoying it (Flitwick was one of her favorite teachers), but at the same time she felt desperately helpless. She hated waiting but that was what she was being forced to do. Red Robes wouldn't come until that night, so until then, there was little Ginny could do. It infuriated her and rather put her off any productive activity.

Still, her friends and Charms were helping take the edge off and so she tried to enjoy the time between then and lunch as much as she could. She mastered a Confundis Hex and then had to look up the counter-hex when her partner began babbling about her antlers. In giggling over the mishap, she felt some of the tension in her gut ease. Some things were still normal.

)PvsM(

"Well?"

Cedric watched Dumbledore closely.

"They should be within the bubble now," Dumbledore said quietly, looking weary.

"Bubble?" Tristan stared back and forth between them. "They're dead! You've put them in a dead bubble?"

"Please, Tris, don't ask us to explain," Cedric said tiredly. "They'll be fine where they are."

"But they're dead!" Hayden snarled, glaring back and forth between his cousin and Dumbledore.

"In our time," the old man repeated.

"So what happens now?" Cedric asked.

"They will live through the rest of the week which Hayden and Tristan were murdered," Dumbledore said. "Within the bubble they will not have any affect on anyone until it comes time for them to catch Red Robes."

"Which they can't do until the copies of them that are operating in this past are about to time travel," Neville finished.

"So they'll exist in this bubble until their past selves are ambushed by Red Robes in the Astronomy Tower?" Cedric asked carefully.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "I hope to be able to communicate with them and tell them how to break out of the bubble and into their time. I should be able to insert my own consciousness into the bubble after they find Tristan and Hayden."

"What are you all going on about?" Dorian demanded, looking completely flummoxed.

Cedric rolled his eyes.

"Like I said, don't ask," he said quietly. "If they succeed, we'll never know anyway, so don't worry about it."

And that, he realized, was the worst of it. If they did succeed, not one of them – any of them – would remember a thing about this entire event.

He could only hope they would get so lucky.

)PvsM(

That night, the four of them met in the Owlry at a quarter to seven. They were tense and quiet. As per their prearrangements, Blaise and Ginny squeezed under the cloak and Harry and Draco pushed open the doors of the Owlry and made their way down the hall as though they weren't being trailed by two invisible companions. It had been a better idea to allow Blaise to join Ginny under the cloak, because they were a much better fit, both being short.

It turned out that Harry and Draco didn't say much at all as they passed through corridors, most of which weren't too terribly busy in the evening after supper. Ginny could tell that Harry was anticipating the meeting with Red Robes and Draco looked scarcely less tense. His back was rigid and his stride quick. Ginny and Blaise had a bit of trouble keeping up, as both had shorter legs and they didn't want to risk tripping over the cloak.

They were an hour early to entrance hall, but it was just as well – finding hiding places that afforded them good views of the site where the murder was supposed to take place and similarly concealed them from anyone in the entrance hall or anyone descending the stairs proved to be a bit of a challenge. Harry and Draco stood in the center of the hall, quietly discussing possibilities with Ginny and Blaise stationed nearby and occasionally adding their own opinions. Anytime a passerby was spotted, Harry or Draco would say something loud and nasty and a shouting match of ridiculous proportions would ensue. The instant the passerby passed by Harry and Draco would drop their voices and return to business.

Ginny wondered if she was the only one who was suspicious of their sudden ability to nastily insult each one minute and talk almost pleasantly the next.

"Oh, that's rich coming from the playboy of the wizarding world and I really think Gin is the only one small enough to fit behind that suit of armor," Harry said, his voice beginning in a loud bellow and ending in a soft murmur as a group of Hufflepuffs entered the hall, caught sight of the boys, and took flight immediately, their speed increasing as Harry's voice rose.

"You're right," Draco muttered back. "At least my best friend doesn't sleep in a shed!" he added for the benefit of a few Ravenclaws who passed them coming out of the Great Hall.

"Do you have any friends? And one of us can hang onto the cloak and use that statue of Bathelda the Bemused," Harry said, nodding toward the figure of a wizened old woman that stood beside the staircase that led to the dungeons. "The cover's not bad from here, but anyone coming up from the dungeons would catch you straight away."

"It should be one of us. The girls will be easier to hide somewhere smaller. Don't you talk about my mum that way, Potter!"

"What, like she's got dung under her nose? Yeah, that's true. Hey, I bet Blaise could fit behind that other suit of armor by the doors of the Great Hall."

And so the bizarre conversation went. As the hour drew later, Ginny felt her stomach begin to knot up and the amusement of the situation ooze away. They might have one chance to get this right . . .

"All right, it's settled," Draco mumbled, nodding in the girls' general direction to get them a bit closer. "Blaise, take that suit of armor on the right side of the stairs. Gin, you're in that little space on the other side between the stairs and the wall – oh, don't fuss, we'll just have to hope the staircase doesn't move. Potter's behind the statue by the staircase to the dungeons with the cloak, and I'm behind that tapestry by the door of the Great Hall."

"Gin, you'll have the best shot," Harry told her, looking casually in her general direction. "Malfoy's in the worst position with no cover so if we need to distract Red Robes, it's up to you and Blaise to get his attention away from Hayden and Tristan. Hopefully, I can get him with something debilitating since he won't be able to see me."

"Right," Blaise muttered. Ginny glanced at her under the cloak. Up close, she looked pale and worried – Ginny could relate. "Anyone coming, Potter? Is it safe to give you the cloak?"

"Yup, go ahead."

Blaise and Ginny shrugged out of the cloak and tossed it to him before darting away to their designated hiding places. Ginny only just fit into the small niche afforded by the angle of the staircase and the wall. Still, no one would see her from above and appropriate shadows were cast that concealed her hiding place from anyone in the entrance hall.

Unfortunately, Ginny has no way of knowing if Blaise was okay because she was on the opposite side of the staircase. Harry was impossible to see as well, hidden as he was by the cloak. And Draco was completely concealed behind the tapestry and was hopefully invisible to everyone.

Ginny sighed heavily, but felt a flash of determination. They had to succeed. Red Robes had to be stopped – stopped from murdering Hayden and Tristy and stopped from continuing to mess with the timeline. Who knew what else he might do, if allowed to continue rampaging?

Ginny realized that her wand hand, wand clenched tightly in it, was shaking slightly. She took a deep, steadying breath, unable to determine whether the tremor had been nerves or anger.

Five minutes passed. Ten. Ginny's wary eyes danced between the center of the more-or-less deserted entrance hall and the massive clock that stood above the doors of the Great Hall. It was ten minutes to eight. Any minute now . . . Draco and Harry were due to start their detention at eight, which meant that they should be discovering the bodies a few minutes from now.

Something about that last thought bothered Ginny. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt suddenly as though a piece were missing. Draco and Harry should have been coming down the stairs for their detention, as they had done in the original past . . . and yet here they were, fully prepared to take on Red Robes a second time around . . . but they should have been coming down the stairs.

Something was wrong and Ginny nearly panicked. What was it?

Her attention was called away a second later by a slight noise from Blaise's hiding place. Footsteps were coming softly from the stairs to the dungeons. They came nearer and nearer. For a moment, Ginny was sure that it was just some of the Slytherins, but –

There they were.

Ginny stared at her son in awe, almost unwilling to believe that Hayden Malfoy existed out of her own mind; that he wasn't a dream. But truly, there he was. Flesh and blood wrapped in pale beauty that she had learnt to love so dearly, even in their short time together.

"Tris, this isn't a good idea!" he hissed over his shoulder. "The bleeding entrance hall? We're going in the wrong direction. Your bloody mum is bound to be in Slytherin –"

"Fat lot of good that does us, since the password is hardly the same as in our time," Tristy's voice said sharply, and a moment later she topped the staircase. They were standing within easy reach of Harry. Tristy went on. "Look, we've got to find another Slytherin and, er, trail them down or something."

"Oh, great plan!" Hayden snarled quietly, warily eyeing the seemingly deserted entrance hall. "And suppose we run into someone unpleasant? My dad, for example? Not even precious little Tristy could explain her way out of that!"

Ginny winced. Oh, that Harry and Draco had arrived in time to catch them before Red Robes. Then none of this might have happened. Or Harry and Draco might have wound up dead beside their children. Ginny shivered and kept her eyes peeled for any other movement besides that of the two children. Harry was watching the staircases and Draco, the front door, but it was up to Ginny and Blaise to cover the remaining area. Surely Red Robes wouldn't pop out of thin air right in front of them . . .

A swish of a cloak was their only warning.

"Expelliamus!" Blaise and Ginny said, jumping simultaneously to their feet and firing their charms toward a deserted side corridor.

"Get down!" Blaise barked to Hayden and Tristy.

Ginny was blinded by the light of the colliding spells and squinted, desperate to see the cloaked figure.

Amazingly he had managed to avoid both spells and had taken refuge in the door-jam, just out of Ginny's line of vision. She strained to see him without breaking cover, but it was beyond her.

In the middle of the room, Hayden and Tristy were staring wildly around.

"What the hell –?" Hayden gasped, already pulling himself protectively toward Tristy. She pushed him off and swept the hall with wide green eyes.

"Was that – was that your mum?" she whispered, staring at Ginny's corner.

"Was that your mum?" Hayden retorted, pointing in Blaise's general direction.

"What were they shooting at?" Tristy murmured, turning her gaze toward the doorway where Red Robes had taken refuge.

"Not us – they couldn't both have missed that bad –" but he was forced to break off as Red Robes dove from his hiding place.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted. Fortunately, as he was diving from one side of the doorway to the other, his aim was off and the deadly curse only just grazed the top of Hayden's blonde head. Tristy reached out and yanked his head protectively against her shoulder, offering the only shielding she could with her small body.

Ginny knew that they were done for if she and Blaise didn't do something. They needed to distract Red Robes long enough to get Hayden and Tristy to cover.

Ginny jumped to her feet.

"Lumos holem! Ingratus lumos! Solaris maximus!" she shouted, firing every light-bearing charm she could think of in Red Robes' direction. If she could blind him just long enough . . .

Fortunately, Blaise realized what she was doing.

"Hayden! Tristan! Back here!" she called, beckoning them toward her small hiding place. They had little choice since her hiding place was closest and larger than Ginny's.

"Lumos holem! Ingratus lumos! Solaris maximus!" Ginny called again, and Red Robes' doorway was once again illuminated.

"Come on!" Tristy shouted over the noise. She grabbed Hayden's hand and they scrambled to their feet, shielding their eyes and moving toward Blaise's voice.

"Petrificus totalis!" cried a voice suddenly. Tristy went rigid and pitched forward, stiff as a board.

"Tristy!" Hayden shouted, skidding to a halt inches from Blaise and whirling to return to Tristy.

"Don't either of you move!" And suddenly Red Robes was standing over them, his wand aiming straight at Hayden's heart.

Ginny swore, aware of her mistake. He had used her own trick against her – he had cast a simple light-repelling charm around his eyes and used his enemies' temporary blindness to move closer without them realizing it.

And now he had Tristy and Hayden trapped.

But then, he didn't know Harry was behind him, covered in the Invisibility Cloak.

"You girls," Red Robes was saying, gesturing toward Blaise and Ginny. "Come on out."

They moved slowly out from their hiding places.

"Wands down," the figure ordered.

Ginny heard Blaise's wand hit the ground a moment before she bitterly released her own.

"And tell your boyfriends to come on out as well," Red Robes went on conversationally. "I doubt Malfoy would appreciate it if I liquidated his heir."

"Draco," Ginny called, her throat tight, feeling her desperation and frustration mounting. Harry had been their only hope.

Draco emerged from behind the tapestry and was stalking toward them, looking mutinous.

"And Potter," Red Robes said, not taking his eyes from Hayden.

Harry did not appear.

"I know he's in here!" Red Robes said, in a less tranquil tone. "And if he values his daughter's life, he'll show himself – immediately!"

Ginny glanced around the hall, but still there was no sign of Harry. What was he doing? Hopefully something clever.

"One last chance, Potter!" Red Robes called sharply. "Or I take your daughter's life."

"Expelliamus!" a voice shouted, directly behind Red Robes. Ginny jumped and Draco gave a yelp as a wand, with Harry Potter attached to it, appeared in a blaze of light from the spell as the cloak was blown off.

Harry was no more than a foot from Red Robes' back and the spell that hit him struck with a blast and burst of light that her deafening and blinding. Ginny squeeze her eyes shut and covered her ears against the barrage.

"Avada Kedavra!" shrieked a voice.

Ginny blinked violently, trying desperately to see what had just happened.

Her heart froze.

Hayden lay staring upward in wide-eyed disbelief.

"No!" Ginny whispered.

"That's impossible!" Draco said in a strangled tone, staring at Red Robes. "Potter hit you point-blank!"

"Apparently the powers of the legendary Harry Potter are highly exaggerated," Red Robes sneered.

"Dimiscendium!" Draco barked abruptly. Despite her shock, Ginny was still able to gasp at Draco's daring. The Dimiscendus Hex was only a few rungs belong the Killing Curse. It had the power, if fired at close enough range, to completely melt the target's skin. And Draco was standing less than a meter away.

His spell passed directly through Red Robes, its light dissipating as it went.

"I warned you the first time, and I grow impatient – Avada Kedavra," Red Robes said silkily, his voice almost lazy.

It was twice as terrible as it might otherwise have been, Ginny thought afterward. Standing there and having no power whatsoever over this horrible creature.

"Fortunately for all of you, I need one of you alive in the future," he said, his voice light again. "So you'll be left alive – for now."

He withdrew his Time-Turner from his robes, turned it a few times, and vanished.

"Dammit!" Harry swore. "God – fucking – it shouldn't be this way!"

He hit his knees beside Tristy, his head bowed. Ginny was sure he was close to tears. She felt her own spill over her eyes as anger and helplessness and complete frustration with herself welled up in her chest. She couldn't look at her son.

She changed a look at Draco and saw that his fists were clenched, his eyes narrowed, and his whole body shaking. Ginny felt his pain – it radiated from him in waves and as their eyes met over their son's body, it toppled her. She burst into tears.

It came as something of a shock when she felt Blaise's arms go around her and cling tightly to her. Still, it was comforting, even though Blaise was crying almost as hard as she was. Ginny could feel the shoulder of her robes being soaked through, but she didn't care.

She didn't know how long she stood clinging to Blaise – to her friend, really, for that was what they had reluctantly become through this whole ordeal. All she knew was that eventually her tears dried, her breathing slowed, and she was left hiccupping into Blaise's shoulder.

"We should – we should get the bodies to Dumbledore," came Harry's hoarse voice from the floor. Ginny pulled back from Blaise and looked down at him. He sat beside Tristy's frozen body.

"Again," Draco snarled, though his voice sounded ruff as well.

"This isn't right," Ginny whispered her thought from earlier, suddenly remembering her reverie.

No one appeared to hear her.

"Mobilius Corpus," Draco murmured, and suddenly Hayden was floating beside him. Behind him, Harry had Tristy in the air, although he wouldn't look at her.

The walk to Dumbledore's office was silent with despair. Ginny kept close to Blaise, feeling more empathy for her than for either of the boys. She knew why – it was simply because they were mothers. Mothers who had known their children and watched them die. Ginny bit her lip as her eyes welled up a second time and forced her tears down with difficulty. What was the point in sobbing again? It wouldn't bring her son back.

They reached Dumbledore's door.

"Sugar Melon."

Ginny stared at Harry in surprise.

"How'd you know that?" she asked.

"Remembered it from last time," he and Draco said together dully.

Ginny felt a sharp pang in her chest. They had done this once already. And now, to have to do it again . . .

Ginny moved forward and looped her arm through the arm Draco wasn't using to keep Hayden up. He made no protect, which did not bode well for his mood. On the contrary, he gripped her possessively as they climbed the winding staircase to Dumbledore's office.

"I can't believe Snape moved the office," Blaise murmured. Ginny glanced at her around Draco's arm (taking care not to look at Tristy, who was floating in front of her parents) and saw that she had taken Harry's unoccupied hand firmly in hers.

"I thought the Ourobus was rather fitting, myself," Draco said quietly, his lips lifting upward slightly into a crooked smile. Ginny noticed that his eyes were red. She squeezed his arm and leaned her head against it, trying not to look at Hayden as he floated along in from of them.

Dumbledore's office door was already opened and he appeared to be waiting for them. Furthermore, he did not look surprised to see the bodies.

"Sir – we can explain," Harry began. He sounded exhausted.

"There is no need, Harry," the headmaster said quietly, his eyes sparkling with sympathy. "Do come in."

The four teens shared surprised looks – that had not been the reaction they had expected.

"Sir?" Draco said, following him into the room. He stopped dead when he saw the army cots sitting neatly out of the way behind four chairs positioned in front of the desk.

"Please, put them there," Dumbledore said briskly, motioning to the cots and moving to seat himself behind his desk. He watched quietly as Draco and Harry gently deposited Hayden and Tristy on the cots.

"Sir, what's going on?" Ginny asked, taking one of the four chairs in front of the headmaster's massive desk. The others joined her.

"I'm afraid I can't fully explain it to you at this time," Dumbledore said. "I imagine you've realized that I was anticipating your arrival this evening."

"You knew?" Harry snapped, leaning forward. "You knew they were going to – to –" he broke off, swallowing hard. Blaise gripped his hand, her lip trembling mutinously.

"Yes," Dumbledore told him simply. "I did. But I must explain myself so that you understand."

"What's to understand?" Draco said darkly from Ginny's side. "You let them die."

"Yes, I did." To Ginny, he looked very old. "I would like to explain why."

They waited, too angry, shocked, or suspicious to speak.

"Since you have returned, has anything seemed . . . at all out of place?" Dumbledore began.

"Since we returned?" Draco repeated. "So you did know about our – er, trip?" He was clearly remember their conversation that morning.

"I do, but the how of it is for another discussion," Dumbledore said. "My original question stands."

Out of place . . . Ginny stared blankly at him, her mind once again jolted back to her earlier reveries. Something was wrong – but she still couldn't put her finger on what it was.

Dumbledore saw her expression and as usual seemed to read her mind.

"Harry," he said, suddenly turning to the dark-haired boy. "Your adventure with Miss Granger in third year – what comparisons can you draw with your own recent experience?"

"It's different," Harry said slowly. "When Mione and I went back –"

"You time-traveled with Granger?" Blaise demanded, staring incredulously at him.

"Never mind, that's not important," Harry said briskly. "When she and I went back, we had to make sure that we weren't seen by anyone, including ourselves . . ."

Ginny started.

"That's it!" she said triumphantly. "I knew something was wrong! We've come back to a time prior to the time that we went forward. We returned to a time when there was already a copy of each of us that had already completed certain actions. Tonight . . ." she thought back. "Tonight – I would have been with Mione doing Potions."

"And Malfoy and I would have been going to detention," Harry said slowly, his eyes slowly widening in understanding.

"And I would have been in the dungeons – so what?" Blaise asked.

"When Mione was time traveling to get to her lessons in third year – please, don't ask about it now – she had to be sure that no one else knew that there were two Hermiones running around," Harry explained. "And she had to make sure that she returned to the exact spot she had originally left from so that she wouldn't ever be missed."

"I see," Draco said slowly. "So the question is, where are the copies of us that should be running around?"

"Exactly!" Harry said. "There should have been two of me in my bed this morning – two of me in Potions."

"So what's wrong, Professor?" Ginny asked eagerly. "Why isn't this happening now?"

"Because it would not have been wise to simply return you to your time of departure," Dumbledore said quietly. "When someone who travels into the future is killed in the future, they snap back to their original time of departure in their correct time. This is because it is the future for them; it has not yet occurred. The future, to them is only a possibility, because a person from the past can still do things in that past to affect and change the future. That is why you would have returned to your original point of departure. If you had done that . . ."

"We would probably have been vaporized by Red Robes," Harry said quietly.

"Exactly," Dumbledore said. "What I've done is – given you some time to prepare. We are now trapped in what you might call a bubble in time. You are within a magical sphere that is removed from time – that is, it reflects the events that transpired in the week leading up to your departure, but your actions have no effect on what was actually happening in that time. This sphere was created specifically for you four so that you could prepare to face our robed nemesis and win."

"Why five days early?" Blaise asked. She looked almost as confused as Ginny felt.

"To give you time to readjust to world," Dumbledore said. "To allow you to catch your bearings, if you will, so that you can effectively face Red Robes and not tie up the timeline any more than it is already knotted."

"So we are trying to capture him – not kill him?" Harry asked. His face had cleared a bit and he looked alive and determined.

"You are," Dumbledore said. "We must know what he's after, who he is, and when he is from."

"So what happens on Friday?" Harry asked.

"It is imperative that this be done correctly," Dumbledore said, looking very grave. "I will align this bubble with the correct temporal coordinates. In order for you to be able to see what is going on in real time, you must be in the Astronomy Tower in the bubble. Everything will transpire just as it did in real time. You must wait until exactly the moment when you departed your time, but you must also apprehend Red Robes before he can time travel. There is a simple spell to dissolve the bubble and bring you back into the timeline. It is, Restoratus Temporal. Only one of you needs to say the incantation, wand held high, and the bubble will burst."

"Restoratus Temporal - Restoratus Temporal," they all murmured, determined to remember.

"And how will we know when we're back in real time?" Harry asked.

"Theoretically, there will be a ripple or shimmer of some kind," Dumbledore said. "Something to let you know that the change has occurred."

Harry nodded. For a long moment nobody spoke.

"Well," the headmaster said at length. "I expect you're all exhausted. Why don't you go off to bed? You have four days to rest and recuperate from your adventure." He seemed shockingly unconcerned that they had blatantly disobeyed and broken a dozen school rules, never mind laws, but Ginny supposed that was a secondary consideration when compared to the threat of Red Robes.

"Sir, I did have one other question," Harry said as they all rose.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked, although his expression suggested that he knew what it would be.

"Did they really have to die, sir?" Harry whispered, staring at Hayden and Tristy.

"And why couldn't we curse Red Robes? Why did our hexes go right through him?" Draco added.

"Two reasons," Dumbledore said to the blonde. "Firstly, because I wanted you all to have a reason to come to my office for this meeting and secondly," he sighed, "because I wanted you to have time to cope with it so that your reentry into the timeline would be less painful. And yes, Harry, for reasons that will hopefully be explained to you in real-time, it was necessary that they die."

Another long pause.

"Reckon we should hit the sack, then," Ginny ventured at last.

Draco's lip twitched.

"Yours or mine, Gin?"

She slapped his arm – hard.

"Ow!" he whined, trailing her out of the room.

"Goodnight, professor," Harry called over his shoulder. Ginny could hear the vague amusement in his voice.

"Goodnight, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Ginny; Draco; Blaise."

"Night, sir."

None of them looked at the bodies as they went.

They lapsed into silence again as they descended the spiral staircase.

They separated in silence once the griffin statue had sealed behind them. Blaise and Harry shared a brief, intense kiss that made Ginny blush and look away. She and Draco avoided each other's eyes. She didn't know why they played this game anymore. Their fate was more or less set and anyway, there was no denying that she was in deep for him.

". . . I can't speak for Harry or Blaise, but I know something's different between you and I," she had said to him earlier that day.

Perhaps it was her fear that he didn't return the feelings that made her freeze at the very thought of expressing her own. His discomfort at the present time was evident, and he didn't even have a snarky comment for Blaise about corrupting innocent schoolboys.

Ginny blinked rapidly in frustration as Harry led the way toward the staircase that led back to Gryffindor Tower. She knew what she wanted from Draco – she wanted to be kissed with the same enthusiasm that Blaise had been.

"You all right?" Harry asked as they mounted the stairs.

Ginny didn't reply, didn't look at him, but he understood and held her hand all the way back to Gryffindor.

)PvsM(

TBC