A/N: Thank you so much to reviewers! I love you all. This is early January… Draco and Ginny fight again, and Draco confesses…

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-Two: Imo Accusations

DRACO

The snow began to melt away, signalling the start of spring. Everyone seemed to be looking forwards to the warmth of a new season – everyone, that is, except Draco. Each passing day symbolised more time flying past without the Stone; another day for the Dark Lord to grow angry at him. He knew that Lord Voldemort did not deal kindly with failure.

Also, the exams were drawing closer. Draco's mock-NEWTs. He was worried sick about not passing, and was studying so hard that he had almost forgotten what the sky looked like. Any free time he had was now all spent with his eyes to parchment. He was actually starting to regret returning to Hogwarts. No, Draco thought, I don't mean that. Think of what's happened. The Yule Ball, Hallowe'en…

Then another little voice piped up, Draco, Draco, you only liked those events because Ginny was there.

Shut it, Draco told the voice, I'm trying to revise. The voice obediently fell quiet, even though he was not revising. He was thinking about Aberforth Dumbledore. Draco had only ever met Aberforth once, and he had thought that Dumbledore's little brother was a very nice old man. And now he was dead. Draco knew that it was Goyle, his ex-companion's father, who had killed him, and wondered why Goyle was now so indifferent to Draco when he and Crabbe were almost in the same position.

He sighed, and returned his attention to his parchment. The Protean Charm is an advanced charm used to transform one thing to match another. This can be used to send notes to other people, as you can Protean a piece of parchment to mimic another, you could write upon the paper, and that message would appear on the other piece of paper. Draco frowned, and then rolled up his sleeve.

The fat green snake, twining through the decaying skull, had runes upon its scaly back. Draco had never quite understood how to translate the runes into Lord Voldemort's meeting place and time, but most meetings were at six o'clock, and Draco simply stepped into a Floo network, pointing his wand to the Dark Mark – that usually got him to the right place.

I wonder… Draco raised his wand, pointing it at the snake. True test of a Protean charm – "Finite incantateum proteus," Draco murmured. There was a second or two when nothing happened, and then his arm exploded into fiery pain.

Who are you to try and remove me, the snake hissed angrily, rocking its scaly, triangular head from side to side. The Dark Lord himself? I'd laugh at that, shrimp.

Draco winced; each movement of the snake was being etched into his skin, making the Dark Mark into a slightly blurry mess. "Don't – you'll mess up the Mark," Draco pleaded.

That is why I exist, the snake snapped, if any Death Eater should attempt to remove His Mark, I am cursed to come to life and partially destroy the Mark. Then He shall know who has tried to leave His alliance.

Despair welled up in Draco's heart. The Dark Lord would be furious. "No, please, don't -" he whispered, but the snake only cackled, and retreated into the mess that had once been a skull. Draco stared uselessly at it, and then made up his mind. The Dark Mark lies only on your skin, so… Draco chewed his lower lip nervously, and pointed his wand nervously at his forearm. "…this had better work…sectumsempra."

Draco didn't actually know what the spell did, but last year Potter had used it on him and the curse had cut him open. So, hopefully… purple light flared from the tip of his wand, and then PAIN, roaring through Draco's arm, struggling not to scream… Through the agony, Draco managed to growl out, "That went well."

Draco blearily opened his eyes. "That," he groaned, "was the stupidest thing I've ever done." Then he saw a striking heart-shaped face, with mud dripping from a scarlet ponytail. "Ginny…?" he croaked, reaching out for her groggily.

Relief crossed her hazel eyes, and then was immediately replaced by anger. "You idiot!" she cried, "what is your problem? You just feel like locking your door and then slashing your arm open, do you?"

Draco moaned and sank into his pillow. I can not be dealing with this right now… "I'm sorry, okay?" he grumbled, and, seeing the accusing look on her pale face, added, "and I know what you think but I was not inflicting self-harm because I'm … I dunno… imo, or whatever it is that Muggles call it."

Ginny folded her arms. "It's called emo, not imo," she corrected, "and if you're trying to pretend that you didn't just try and kill yourself, then listen to this – I just come up the stairs from Quidditch practice and find Madam Pomfrey, Professor Snape, and half a dozen house-elves carrying my moaning, barely conscious, blood-soaked best friend to the Hospital Wing at high speed. I saw your arm, Malfoy. I know what accidents look like and I know what Dark Magic is. And that," she pointed at Draco's arm, "was no accident."

Draco wasn't listening, though; he had zoned out after two words. "I'm… I'm your – best friend?" he whispered, astonished.

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, reddening. "I just meant that – well – yeah, I guess," she said, totally confident, apart from the tell-tale spots of colour high on her cheeks.

Draco's heart swelled up two sizes, and he sat up, shuffling backwards until his back met the headboard. "Er," he said, feeling that he should say something important, "I've never really had a best friend… so – er – yeah. Thanks."

Ginny nodded; then, embarrassedly scratching the back of her head, she asked, "Sorry if its personal or something… but – well, why did you try and kill yourself? You really scared me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I didn't try and kill myself," he protested. "I just…" Just what? Tried to get rid of the Dark Lord's Mark by slicing off every layer of skin that it was burned onto? That'll boost her faith in me, I'm sure.

"Fine," said Ginny shortly. "I'm sorry." She didn't sound it. Nonetheless, Draco forced a smile onto his face. She flashed a smile back, and suddenly Draco was seeing the Yule Ball all over again: Ginny drawing closer, eyes fluttering closed, green dress flaring around her knees, her lips on his…

"Draco?"

He jolted back into reality. "Sorry," he said, red rushing into his face faster than London traffic. "Did you say something? I went into a different world."

"I can tell," said Ginny quietly, and Draco noticed how withdrawn she was. She was staring silently at the wall on the other side of the Hospital Wing, fiddling with her Quidditch robes. "Gryffindor has a Hufflepuff match next week," she said randomly. "Madam Pomfrey says that my elbow is well enough for me to play. I hope that nothing drastic happens this time."

Draco agreed, and Ginny started to say more, but he interrupted, "Ginny, what's wrong?"

Ginny stared at him. "Do you really want to know?" she asked, and Draco was shocked to hear that she sounded close to tears. "My problem is that I thought you were my friend. My best friend, even. But you're obviously not, because friends care about each other. I care about you more than I care about Harry and Hermione and all the rest of them. I liked to think that you cared about me, too, but that's clearly a load of crap – and do you know why? Because when you were upset, instead of coming to let me help, you went and did -" Ginny's voice cracked horribly, before returning, stronger than anything, "and did this! I would be devastated if you died, Draco, because I care about you. You, however, don't give a bloody damn about me, and this is how you show it!"

Draco stared at her as she stood, trembling with rage. Then, she said, her tone icy enough to chill a penguin, "there's a Hufflepuff-Gryffindor Quidditch match next week. Don't bother coming; and if you do, don't you dare support Gryffindor." She pressed her lips together into a thin, hard line, and then said haughtily, "bye," before turning on her heel and storming from the ward, leaving only a trail of muddy footprints and a stunned Slytherin.

There was indeed a Hufflepuff-Gryffindor match, and Draco honestly couldn't see how the players could fit in revision and training. They seemed to have managed, though they did all seem very tired. Weasley nearly slid off of his broom three times; Potter had to blink repeatedly to stay awake; Ginny was wide awake, but she looked like a panda, with bags under her eyes.

As the Quaffle flew into the air, Draco opened his mouth to cheer the standard 'go, go, Gryff-in-dooor' chant, but Ginny looked over the Slytherin crowd piercingly, like a hawk surveying her prey, and Draco remember that he wasn't supposed to support her team. He quietened, and watched the game in silence.

She is so damn stubborn. She always causes big fights between us because of her pride. The last time it was because she was 'scared for me', and this time it's because she 'cares for me'. Draco scowled. She is one weird girl.

The game began, and Draco felt as though Ginny was deliberately staying on the other side of the pitch, to avoid him. He glared at her, glared at the crowd, and then stalked away from the stands. The Slytherin common room was strangely empty – everyone had gone to the Quidditch match. Draco sank into the armchair nearest to the fireplace, and rested his head in his hands. "What am I supposed to do?" he muttered, raking a hand roughly through his hair.

He stared up at the flames, flickering in the hearth. "I can't pretend that I'm here to finish my education," he whispered to himself. "I like thinking that I'm here to study… but I'm not."

In the flames, leaping across the stone fire-place, he saw a sad heart-shaped face, looking desperately at him. "Please, Draco," Ginny murmured, and then she was gone. Draco's face crumpled as he watched where she had once been, and buried his face in his hands.

"I can't do this," Draco said. He knew that he was talking to himself, and that the paintings on the wall were sneering to each other, look, the loner is going insane. He felt a sob build up his chest, but he flattened it, and looked up at the fire again. "I can't kill her…" Words formed in his throat; he had been fighting them down for months, trying to replace them with thoughts of friendship and the Dark Lord's words, but now he forced himself to say them, to admit to himself something that he'd never thought his heart was even capable of: "I love her."

A/N: Sooo Draco and Ginny getting closer… and Ginny's just upset because she's falling in love with Draco and she thought that he tried to kill himself… yeah. It was a little random but whatever. XD Please review.