Draco Malfoy stood in the quiet hallway, the picture of ease and feeling anything but. It had been stupid of him to miss the detention last night, reckless even. He should not be risking the Carrows' wrath, no matter how idiotic the siblings were. Snape, he had less to fear from, but the Carrows could just as easily go directly to Voldemort. Seeing the Dark Lord again, ever again, was not high on Draco's list of priorities. The thing he now called master had been staying with them all summer and all of the year before. Their manor, his home, had become headquarters for a beast preoccupied with blood status to the point of lunacy.

And Draco was sick of it.

Helping the Weasley girl had never been his intention. Despite his disdain for the Dark Lord, he felt no inclination to help those idiots who called themselves the Order. They could all run about and get themselves killed for all he cared, especially the Golden Trio. His nose wrinkled just thinking of them.

But the Weasley girl, well he had never hated her like he hated the others, and yesterday, watching her mouth off to Carrow had amused him. After two months of Snape in charge, Draco had been certain the students would be beaten into submission. Imagine his surprise then when they kept fighting back, especially Weasley Longbottom and that Loony girl. Bloody big-hearted fools, the lot of them. Did they not realize they were fighting a lost cause? What did they even hope to gain by getting themselves sent to detention?

The word made him squirm in discomfort. He had only ever given one detention since the new methods had been put in place. He could still see Longbottom's body on the stone floor. For a moment, Draco had honestly thought he had killed the sod. It angered Draco, thinking of that moment, for it made him feel fear and an uneasiness he was not accustomed to. It brought him back to his previous year of school. He had not meant to hurt Longbottom that bad, but after the spell had left his mouth, his mind had taken over, and it had taken them both somewhere he never expected, somewhere dark.

Like ice, Draco froze those thoughts before he could follow them. He had become withdrawn since last year, asking himself questions he did not want answers to. His mind had become a dark place, he knew it, but he did not want to acknowledge it.

Angrily, Draco dragged his palms down his face, pulling harshly at the skin. It was all ridiculous. He should not be questioning himself. He was Draco Malfoy of House Black, the snake of Slytherin. What should it matter if his mind had become black as a cloudy night? He was supposed to be dark, black as the tattoo on his forearm. He glanced down at his sleeve, covering the ghastly mark though he no longer needed to hide it, and he made a face of disdain.

He had done some horrible things to get that mark, and seen things even more horrible. He had Crucio'd Longbottom. But the idea of torturing Ginny Weasley had made him recoil. He had not been able to force himself to do it, no matter how much he argued with himself. In the end, he had sent Filch in his place to give her a cleaning task, and he had felt better afterwards. That was perhaps the most troubling of all, the sense of relief he had felt knowing that Ginny Weasley would not be tortured.

A sudden noise startled Draco and his eyes leapt up from his arm, scanning the hall as he stepped away from the wall. His hand automatically went to his pocket, grasping the handle of his wand.

"Whose there?" his voice came out as calm as always, but Draco was not quite so calm inside. He had no idea who would be out at this time of night, as he had never run into someone before. Thoughts of run-ins with Snape caused a bitter taste to well up in his mouth. He had not spoken to the new Headmaster since the first week of school, and he rather did not wish to. But only a few people had permission to wander the school at night.

So imagine his surprise when Ginny Weasley stepped out from a niche in the wall and stared at him with blank eyes and a masked face. He simply stared back at her for a moment in silence, his hand falling from his pocket, wandless. He had no idea how she had snuck out of her House, or how long she had been following him. It was rather impressive actually, he admitted as he studied her. She did not move, just kept staring at him blankly. She didn't even look frightened.

Draco couldn't help it, then, he laughed.

Ginny felt blood rush to her face as Malfoy began laughing, unchecked and loudly. It filled her with fear that he was being so loud, ideas of getting caught dancing through her mind. She wanted to hiss at him to shut up but knew that was pointless. Maybe she had overestimated Malfoy, thinking he would not tell on her. Maybe he would turn her in.

Just as she thought it though, his laughter ended. The hallway fell to silence again, and Malfoy looked her up and down. "Well Weasley," he nearly smirked, "I'll admit I never expected to see you here. Do you often walk around, alone, at night?"

"Do you?" Ginny snapped back without much thought. She did not like this Malfoy, this boy who laughed and smirked. She was too used to seeing the icy Draco she saw in Dark Arts every day. This Draco seemed more dangerous than that one had.

"Yes," he shrugged, his smirk dropping. "I walk through the school most nights, though apparently you already knew that." He sent her a quizzical look but he did not look angry.

Ginny blushed, hardly aware of why. It was not a secret that Malfoy wandered the halls at night. Luna had told her after someone from Slytherin had reported it. It was not as though Malfoy was being particularly sneaky about it, but she knew that he was the only one allowed to do so. Every other student was forced to stay in their Houses after dinner until breakfast the next morning.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?" Malfoy demanded suddenly. His face had lost all traces of humor and interest. He had nearly reverted back to the icy mask Ginny saw every day. "I doubt I have to tell you that this is against the rules."

"Why didn't you show up?" Ginny blurted and then nearly wanted to throttle herself. She had no control over her mouth tonight, not that she could really blame herself. She had been following Malfoy for a good thirty minutes before he had stopped walking and paused here. It had taken her another five minutes to work up the nerve to step out, and then Malfoy had still beat her to it. Her nerves were shot.

Malfoy crossed his arms and sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Does it matter? You didn't get tortured. Shouldn't you be thankful?"

"I would never thank a Malfoy," Ginny hissed, stepping forward with her fists clenched.

Malfoy just laughed. "Never say never. I never thought I would turn down hurting a Weasley, and yet, here we are."

He was mad, completely insane. Ginny stepped back again, suddenly on edge. Her hand went to her back packet, where she had stowed her wand. She played with the handle but did not draw it, suddenly unsure of her ability to best Malfoy. He was different than she remembered. Before he had always been quick to anger and quicker to insult, now he hardly seemed bothered with her. He looked bored. He looked dangerous.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "Frightened, Weasley?"

Ginny made no response, clasping her wand handle harder. She would not give him the satisfaction of answering. Whoever this new Malfoy was, he was still an enemy. He had to be.

"Well, you shouldn't be," he continued, casting his eyes skyward to study the ceiling. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have just gone to that detention."

"So why didn't you?" Ginny demanded again, mind buzzing with the need for an answer.

"Why do you care?" Malfoy shot back. He did not sound curious, though, merely as though it was the first thought that had come to mind. He did not even look at her, waiting for an answer.

So it was surprising that Ginny heard herself answering. "You hate my family," she whispered. Malfoy looked at her, alarmed by the level of anger in her voice. "You hate my brother," she continued, voice shaking with sudden rage, "You would kill Harry on sight. You detest Hermione. You let Death Eaters into this school and you killed Dumbledore!"

Malfoy stared at her for a moment in silence, listening as her voice echoed through the hall. She had not meant to yell, but he hardly seemed bothered. He was just staring at her, as he had been doing all year. Finally he opened his mouth and said, "Actually Snape killed Dumbledore, didn't Potter tell you?"

Ginny snapped. Hardly aware of herself, she flew forward and slammed her palms into Malfoy's shoulders, pinning him to the wall as she grasped her wand and jabbed it into his throat. "You let the Death Eaters into the school," she hissed. "Snape may have cast the spell, but you killed Dumbledore."

"Well at least we agree on that," Malfoy gasped, not squirming away from her wand point.

"What?" Ginny felt her eyes widen, though her wand did not slacken.

"I killed Dumbledore," Malfoy replied, his voice still quiet due to her wand pressing on his throat. He made no move to dislodge it or push back at her. He simply let himself be pinned to the wall as he answered her. "I let the damn Death Eaters in, and he died because of me. You think I don't realize that it was my fault?"

"No, I think you don't care!" Ginny snapped back, regaining herself. "You may accept the blame Malfoy, but you are still a monster."

He laughed again, just once as his grey eyes met hers. She could see nothing in his eyes, no fear, no anger, nothing. It was as though he truly was made of ice. "Do you expect an argument from me, Weasley?" He shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint, but I know what I am."

Ginny could only look at him, her sudden anger leaving her as quickly as it had appeared. Again, she was struck with the notion that she did not know this Malfoy. He was hardly the boy she had remembered, hardly the boy she had heard Ron and Harry talk about. Without much more thought, Ginny stepped away and lowered her wand slightly. She stared at Malfoy, heart racing and waiting for him to lunge at her. He did not.

Ginny felt like she was staring at a complete stranger. Her world spun around her, and she felt suddenly sick.

Malfoy merely drew in a deep breath and brushed himself off. "Go back to your dorm, little Weasley, before somebody decides to investigate all the noise we've been making."

"Not until you tell me why you didn't come to detention." Ginny could not say where her determination for answers came from. She just knew she needed to understand. Her entire world had been torn out from under her this school year. She was stumbling around blindfolded here, in Hogwarts, a place she had always loved. She was trying to survive in a game with rules that constantly changed and people who would kill. She had counted on Malfoy being the same, though, even with his staring. If she understood nothing else, she needed to understand him. She just needed it.

"No."

Ginny felt tears of frustration well up in her eyes and she hastily blinked them away, mad at herself for crying so easily. "Why not?" she demanded, voice hoarse. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you Malfoy? Why didn't you torture me? Why have you been staring at me? What do you want?"

Malfoy was growing frustrated, his face coloring slightly. His posture was just as stiff as hers, as they faced off in the hallway. "Stupid little Gryffindor, what does it matter to you?"

"Because it does!" Ginny nearly screamed. She fumbled in her pockets again, coming up with the note and shoving it in Malfoy's face. "Why warn me? Why are you protecting me?"

Malfoy shoved her hand away, glaring at the note he had written. "I wasn't protecting you; I was protecting myself."

Ginny shook her head, at a loss. "I don't believe you."

Malfoy stepped away from the wall and began to walk around her. "Believe what you want. I am done talking to you."

Ginny turned to watch him go, chewing her lip furiously. A clash of emotions raced within her. Anger mixing with fear mixing with a weird longing. She needed answers.

"Malfoy!" she yelled, hand automatically reaching outward as though to physically stop him.

Malfoy spun around and yelled back, "What? Are you completely daft, Weasley? Do you want someone to find you out here? Was one detention this week not enough?"

Ginny ignored him, looking again at the note. When she looked back at him, his eyes were churning with something, though she could not identify what. "I just…" she fumbled with words. "I recognized your handwriting."

Malfoy went perfectly still, as though he had turned into a statue.

"I mean," Ginny continued, trying to study him, trying to figure him out. "I've seen your handwriting before. I can't figure out where, but I know I have."

Malfoy unfroze and shook his head. "You're imagining things, Weasley. Go back to your room before somebody less kind than me finds you."

She wanted to call after him again, but Malfoy was around the corner in moments, and she knew it would be foolish to pursue him. Whatever patience Malfoy had, she had used it all. She could tell by the crack in his armor. For a moment there she had seen emotion in his eyes. She had made him freeze in his spot.

Ginny glanced down at the folded note again and bit her lip. He had lied about the handwriting. She had seen it before, and Draco knew exactly where.

For a long time, Ginny simply stood in the silence of the hallway and stared at the paper, trying to puzzle it all out. Her mind came up blank again and again. It made no sense that Draco would not lie to her about anything except the handwriting. He had even admitted to being responsible for Dumbledore's death. He had avoided answering her questions about his staring and his missing detention. He had only outright lied about the writing.

What was Malfoy hiding from her?

Draco stormed away from the youngest Weasley, his mind a tempest of thought and shattered control. It was ridiculous that she had unnerved him like this. She was just Ginny Weasley, the youngest brat, the girl with the ridiculously colored hair and equally ridiculous crush on Potter. Draco had known her for years, had studied her for years. It was coincidence that she had chosen this year to notice, absolutely pure chance. He had no idea why she could recognize his handwriting. He cast his mind back, counting how many times she would have seen it. He couldn't remember, which was almost equally as maddening.

Stopping, Draco slammed his hands into a wall, relishing the sound of double open-palmed slaps against the hard stone. He had never thought she would recognize his handwriting. It had not even crossed his mind when he had sent her that note, not that he had planned on doing that either. She had just looked so ridiculous, her lip torn and her hair frazzled. It was clear something had been bothering her, but it was also clear that she had not been tortured. Fear for himself had driven Draco to send that note, and it was natural to fear for himself. It was unnatural, however, to fear for her.

He tried again to count how many times she would have seen his handwriting, but again stumbled over the numbers. He wanted to laugh at himself for it. Perhaps he had interacted more with her than he had even thought, and of course, he was going to be punished for that now.

He turned and leaned his head against the wall, being none to gentle as he thwacked his head against it. The one good thing he had ever done in his entire life, his one saving grace, and it was going to cause problems, not only for him, but for her too if she continued to dig.

Draco recalled the way she had looked tonight in the hallway, the various ways in which she had confronted him. Anger made her eyes snap, and even Draco could admire the spirit in her. She had hardly seemed afraid of him. He could still feel the strength with which she had dug her wand into his neck. He had honestly thought she might hex him.

Unconsciously Draco raised his hand and rubbed at the spot.

She was being ridiculous and acting insane. He had noticed it earlier, but it was even more apparent now. Ginny Weasley was a danger to herself and to him, but he had no idea what to do about it. He could ignore her, stop his staring. He had not even realized she had noticed it to begin with. But somehow, Draco knew that would not work. He had seen the stubborn willpower in her eyes, tonight. Ginny Weasley was determined to get her answers, and he had never seen her fail to get what she wanted.

Cursing himself, Draco pushed away from the wall again and went back to his dorm. He needed to think, and he needed to plan. There was no way he was going to let Weasley get himself, and herself while she was at it, in trouble. He just couldn't allow it.

(AN: So it's a rare thing for me to update two days in a row and please don't expect it to keep happening. In case you missed it, yes, I will be switching between Draco and Ginny's points of view, but I think it will continue to mostly be in Ginny's. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon and thanks for reading!)