A/N: Thank you so much to reviewers! I love you all. This is the second part of the Yule Ball from Draco's point of view. Sorry to split it up. Draco and Ginny dance – as well as other things.

Disclaimer: I am not lucky enough to as smart as to invent these characters myself. They are not mine. Too bad. –pout-

The Stone Speaks

Twenty-one: Personal Bubble

DRACO

Draco nodded, eager to strike up a conversation, but before he could say anything, Ginny piped up, "Truth or dare."

Draco looked quizzically down at her. "What?" he asked.

It's a Muggle game. Just play it," said Ginny with a bossy grin. "You choose to either tell the truth or do one task that I tell you." Draco nodded again, unsure what the hell he was getting himself into.

…

"Fine. Er," said Draco, trying to decide. "Truth." Half-frightened of the question, but half-intrigued by the game and the thoughts of finding out more about Ginny, he looked towards her for her inquiry.

"Hmm," said Ginny, stroking her chin, "what's your full name, and who are you named for?" She grinned teasingly up at him, flashing hazel like the eyes of a siren.

"Draco Ophius Malfoy," he replied, "named for my great-grandfather, Ophius, and my great-uncle, Drakonus." And I despised both of them, Draco added with a chuckle. He looked up at the ceiling, wondering if the two dead old cronies would be peering down at him – no, don't be silly, Draco, they'd be looking up, wouldn't he? He's in hell. "Your turn."

"Truth."

"Same question."

"Ah, you're boring. Ginevra Molly Weasley – named for my mum, and one of my great-great-somethings from the seventeenth century or sometime like that," Ginny said with a shrug. "She's dead now, so I don't really have to care about her."

"Lucky you," Draco smirked.

"Your turn. Truth or dare?" Ginny grinned, hopping up and down cheerfully, her skirt flaring around her knees.

"Truth."

"Hmm… what is your deepest, darkest secret?" Ginny probed, seeming far too fascinated for such a simple game.

Draco's heart stopped for a whole fifteen seconds, before it began pumping violently. How could she know? She couldn't know. "I don't have one," he said immediately, knowing that she would see through his lie, but he couldn't tell the truth. Tell the truth? Okay, here's the truth, I'm not sure that I can be your friend because you killed my parents, and I'm working for the Dark Lord who wants me to kill you, and – oh yeah! I think I'm falling in -

"Right," Ginny said sarcastically, narrowing her eyes. "I believe you, sure." Under her gaze, Draco felt himself growing increasingly uncomfortable, but then she shrugged and said, "my go."

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth," said Ginny simply.

"Er. Um. Who were you dancing with earlier, from Durmstrang?" Draco asked quickly. He wasn't sure why he wanted to know, but he did, and he wanted to know now.

"Eril," replied Ginny. "He's nineteen, can you believe it? He's still at school. They probably go to Durmstrang until they're thirty. I mean, Viktor Krum is still there, and he's, what, twenty-one?" she laughed.

Draco felt a bubbling anger rise up in his chest and try to force its way out of his throat, but he swallowed it down, despite the fact that he would currently like nothing better to squash that stupid Durmstrang pretty-boy who wasn't smart enough to know the difference between a wand and a tree.

"Your go," said Ginny.

"Er. I think I'll try dare," he said, nervous about what this would hold for him. "But no embarrassing stunts or – or – anything like that," Draco added hastily.

Ginny's grin widened. "No embarrassing stunts, eh?" she cackled evilly.

"No, Ginny, no, don't -"

"Fine. You're boring. I dare you… to open that window, climb onto the roof below and stay there, in the snow, for two minutes," Ginny said, fighting to keep a malicious smile off of her face.

"Ginny!" Draco complained, but she was looking at him with a sparkle in her eyes, and suddenly he felt an urge to do it, to show her that he wasn't a coward. "Fine," he said flatly, and crossed to the nearest Gothic window. Ginny followed, watching interestedly, as Draco fumbled with the cold metal clasp, before swinging the window open. Instantly, a gust of frigid air struck him like a sledgehammer, and Draco regretted his choice. I'm not backing down now.

He glanced back over his shoulder; no-one was there, except for a highly amused Ginny. Draco hitched one leg up onto the windowsill, and then clambered up, slipping slightly on the frost-encrusted surface. He peered down through swirling snow and saw the roof, some feet below. An idea struck him, and a devilish grin found its place on his lips.

"Do I have to?" he whined, staring up sadly at Ginny. As expected, she nodded her head, red curls flying, and Draco continued down, climbing. Now! He let go of the wall, and, with a shout, allowed himself to plummet down.

"Draco!" her voice screaming, ringing in his ears, high and long.

"Immobilius," he whispered, and his fall was cushioned before he dropped himself awkwardly into the snow. He lay, spread-eagled, shivering slightly as his face pressed against the snow, waiting for Ginny's priceless reaction.

"Draco, oh God, no," Ginny shrieked, and then she was clambering through the window, dress flailing in the harsh wind, crouching beside Draco, pure fear in her face.

"Gotcha," Draco whispered when she was close enough to hear him, and winked open one blue eye. "Cold out here, isn't it?"

Ginny gasped. "OhmigodDraco, never do that again, you moron!" she shouted. "Do you have any idea how freakin' scared you got me?!"

"I got the gist of it, yes," Draco said with a cheeky grin, and stood up, brushing snow off of his dress robes, but before he could do anything, something hard whacked him around the face, and he crumpled to the floor.

"You retard," Ginny snapped, shaking his fist and blowing on her smarting knuckles. "Don't ever try that sort of stunt again, or I'll kill you, you insensitive little -"

"Ow."

Ginny huffed, but she saw that Draco was actually in pain, and softened considerably. "Sorry," she said, pulling him to his feet, slender fingers wrapping around his long, cold ones. "You just really pissed me off."

Draco was looking away though, gazing down – through numerous, large windows, the ballroom could be seen, and a slow tune was trickling through the snowstorm, sprinkling music over the two cold teenagers. He turned to Ginny, and, feeling as though his next words were going to be extremely stupid, and as though he would much rather die, said, "Shall we dance?"

Ginny looked up at him curiously, but then smiled, and shyly took his hand. Not confident of what he was supposed to do, Draco put his other hand at the small of her back, and found that Ginny was blushing profusely; Draco was quite certain that he was exactly pale, either. Ginny slid one hand onto his shoulder – yes, he was definitely not pale now, heat flooding his face.

Side-step left, then right, then left, then twirl Ginny out. She lifted her hand, shyly spinning underneath, her hair nearly hitting Draco, and then moving forwards.

Oh God, here it comes, here it comes – the twang of the fiddle, Draco hands flying away, sweeping to her small waist, lift up, he was going to drop her (that won't be very romantic, a small voice said, very matter-of-factly, in the back of his head), twirling her around, smiling timidly down at him, and then letting his arms buckle so that she dropped down, surprisingly graceful, and turned, skirt swirling.

"I love this song," Ginny said, tilting her head as she side-stepped and twirled and moved delicately across the dimly-lit snow. She began to hum, a smile lighting up her face as she became aware that Draco could hear her.

"I know, a place that we can go to
A place where no-one knows you,

They won't know who we are," she whispered, red curls fanning out with every step, her hands linked with Draco's. She was warm, considering that she was dancing in the snow in only a flimsy ball-gown, and Draco suddenly felt like he was the luckiest person in the world. The Stone of Montol was shining around her neck, reflecting the sparkle of every snowflake and her eyes shining even more brightly than that.

"I know, a place that we can run to

And do all those things we want to,

They won't know who we are," she murmured, her voice soft and sweet and strong all at the same time. It was like listening to something beautiful and something sad simultaneously. "You know the words, Drakonus," she teased.

"I don't," he lied; Draco had heard it many times. She looked disappointed, and looked away from him; before she could heave the sigh building up in her throat, the words were out, softly, "Let me take you there,

I want to take you there,

I know, a place that we'd forgotten,

A place we won't get caught in,

They won't know who we are."

Ginny looked up, astonished.

"Maybe I do know the words," said Draco sheepishly, and then a heavy silence fell – but for the first time, it wasn't awkward, and Draco felt perfectly content to just remain quiet. He tried to avoid looking into Ginny's face (it was like looking into the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky), but her eyes were calling him, and he obliged.

Spinning, slowly, Draco knew that, without doubt, this was the best moment of his life, and suddenly the music stopped, became faster, and the peaceful, serene moment was broken abruptly, leaving Draco holding Ginny far closer than he had realized, in the snow, protected only by her warmth.

"Er," he said, "should we go back inside?" Ginny nodded, and Draco let go of her. He lead the way back to the window, and cleared all frost from each step so that she wouldn't slip, as he had pretended to.

Up in the hallway, now slightly coated with melting snow flung in through the open window, Draco pulled the window closed and continued back towards the ballroom with water from disappearing snow seeping through his dress robes.

"Are you glad you came?" Ginny asked, halfway towards the grand oak doors, turning to look up at the Slytherin.

Draco nodded. "More than anything," he said quietly. As he looked at her, he found himself wanting to tell her his deepest, darkest secret after all. "Ginny, I -"

"Aah!" Ginny yelped, and she nearly collapsed in a heap on the floor. "What the hell? Draco, this isn't funny, stop it."

"What isn't?" Draco asked, nonplussed. He stepped forwards to help her up, but found that he couldn't move. "Ginny, what's going on?"

She glared at him. "Ha-ha, Draco, now take the hex off!" she said irritably, hauling herself to her feet and brushing dirt from her swirling green skirt. Then she saw the bewildered look on his face. "Wait – you're not doing this?"

Draco shook his head slowly. "Why can't we move?" he asked, not certain that he wanted to know the answer. Ginny's eyes widened with horror, and she looked up. She swore under her breath, her eyes not leaving the ceiling.

"What -" Draco glanced upwards, and saw a small sprig of green leaves, shaking with laughter. "Oh, bloody hell no."

"Have fun," the mistletoe squeaked, quivering with excitement.

Ginny turned scarlet, but she pretended that it wasn't happening. "Er… well, come on, then," she said, "let's get this over with." Draco reddened, trying to act as though his mind wasn't reeling. Ginny was looking up at him expectantly, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

"Well," said Draco, "you know, you're actually -"

"You don't have to flirt with me first," Ginny commented dryly, only increasing the number of blood cells in Draco's normally pale face.

"I'm not -"

"Ginny?" called a female voice, and Draco looked over to see Granger approaching, skirts swirling behind her. Draco and Ginny were in shadow, but it could still become very awkward, and –

"Oh hell," said Ginny, realizing the same thing. "Not good, not good." She looked up into Draco's face, cringing as Granger drew closer and closer. Ginny sighed heavily. "Oh, for God's sake," she said, and she was standing on tiptoe, stepping into Draco's personal bubble – oh God, oh God – and then their lips met, holding together in a quick, chaste kiss, but it made Draco's insides squirm together in a ball of confusion, she was just there, the most beautiful thing on the planet –

and then she was gone.

Draco looked after her, but she was disappearing through the oak doors in a swirl of green fabric, beside Granger. He stumbled backwards, crashing into the wall, and then a dizzy smile lit up his pink face as he touched his fingers to his lips. Wow.

A/N: Eril is actually a Bulgarian name that means 'rival'. Hehe. Sorree that it's so long. Please review.