(A/N: Once again, thank you fantastic reviewers! You're amazing! And now...this is the chapter that I most enjoyed writing. I've decided to put this chapter up and see what reaction I get first before putting up the next one. *evil laugh. Let me know what you think! WonderWhiteRabbit hopping off)

In the Head of the Snake

Chapter 8: Understanding Emotions

Ginny and Ron were walking towards the bathrooms on Valentine's Eve, both drenched in mud and rain water.

"I'm lousy," Ron was whispering to himself over and over.

"You say that to yourself one more time!" Ginny warned through clenched teeth.

"And what? You gonna jinx me?"

"I wouldn't put it past me to do just that!"

"What's with you today?"

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny quickly.

"You're acting all jumpy. Is it that Michael boy that you're seeing? Is he trying to get you to do stuff that you don't wanna do?"

"Whatever I do or don't do with Michael is my own business!" snapped Ginny.

"So you have done something with him?" Ron rounded on Ginny.

She stepped hard into his shoulder while passing him wordlessly and strode into the girl's bathroom.

"Oi!" yelled Ron after her. "Oi, I'm speaking to you!" but Ginny didn't come out of the bathroom.

Instead, she peeled off her flying robes and stepped carefully underneath the hot water beating out of the shower-head. Her long red hair moved like a live animal along her skin as the water rushed over her head. The water also washed away her tears.

She had to face Snape now. How could she? How could she look into those cold eyes and not fall to pieces in front of him? Before, he had always been greasy, nasty, ugly Snape the potion's master. Now...it was different. It was all different.

When she was around him, she could think. Her mind was clear from unwanted thoughts of Harry Potter. She had used Michael simply as a distraction. When her longing for Harry got too much, she had a way out with Michael. She really didn't like him all that much; he was a whining and whinging type of person. But he did the job.

Then she had spent that time with Snape. She had thanked him for his words and his warnings. He had responded with a present...she hadn't used it yet. The quill lay silent and still in her robe pocket, carefully placed next to her wand. She was scared to use it, but she had been tempted to every single time she reached for her wand.

She didn't understand it, but she wanted, and very badly so, to talk to Severus Snape. It was as if, dare she think it, she needed him...but for what she was not yet sure.

She scrubbed herself until her skin was raw, thinking all the while. Finally, after rinsing her hair a second time, she had made up a plan. A mad, crazy, suicide plan. But it was the only way she would get Professor Snape out of her head.

She turned the water off and took her time getting dressed into clean robes. She deposited her wand and the quill into her pocket and was just busy wringing out her wet socks from practice when she froze. Her pocket was vibrating.

With her heart sitting somewhat higher than it should, and beating twice as hard as it should, Ginny took the quill out and held it gingerly in her hands. Yes, it was definitely vibrating. That could only mean one thing.

Hastily she dropped to her knees and placed the quill carefully on the ground, point down. The quill stood stock still, suspended oddly in midair without a hand to hold it, before it traced words over the rock floor.

"Have you forgotten our meeting?" the words read before sinking slowly into the ground. The quill quivered then fell too.

Ginny picked it up, a little uncertain as to how she should continue, but then wrote, "No, sir. I was merely getting ready for the occasion."

She watched as the written words sunk into the stone and wondered whether her reply was a little too vague. Surely he would realise she had been in no condition to see a teacher – or to sit in one's office – after her practice today?

The quill vibrated again and, this time with no hesitancy, she placed the quill on the floor and read the words that appeared.

"Take your time."

Feeling satisfied, Ginny dried her wet clothes quickly with a long flurry of her wand and then stuffed them unceremoniously into her bag. She looked at her reflection in the mirror before she left. Well, she thought, at least I look natural.

Three knocks. Snape knew it was her.

"The door is unlocked," he called out, looking expectantly up from the papers he had been grading.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Snape," said Ginny from the doorway. Snape's eyes narrowed. Her hair was towel dried and hanging loose around her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled from her energies that day. He had to admit; she was a very pretty girl and would only get more beautiful.

"I thought I told you to take your time?" Snape indicated Ginny's wet hair.

"One should never keep a professor waiting," Ginny closed the door behind her and put her bag down in front of it.

"Tea?" asked Snape. He was looking for any excuse not to look at Ginny. She had an aura about her today that he hadn't encountered yet. It was as if her body was using magic without her even knowing. Usually young children displayed acts of magic when they were scared or angry – any extreme form of emotion really – but when they got older then they learnt control and direction through their wands. What emotion was Ginny feeling now? And why was she looking at him like that? Snape shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Tea would be great, thank you, Professor."

Snape realised she was being awfully polite. Much too much so for him. She was hiding something. She had a plan of some sort.

He set about making tea while Ginny took the seat opposite him, tossing her hair flirtatiously over her shoulder.

"How was your practice?" he asked of her, still not looking up.

"Dreadful," she sighed and Snape felt the aura around her dissipate slightly. "To be honest we have absolutely no hope. No hope at all."

"Yes you do," disagreed Snape. "You're faster than the Hufflepuff Seeker, Ginny. You can get the snitch before they do."

"But will I get it soon enough?" she shook her head. "It's a lost cause..."

Snape passed Ginny her teacup and added a chocolate-chip cookie. She raised her eyebrows.

"I have a house elf that is very fond of me," explained Snape.

"You must thank him or her for me," smiled Ginny.

Snape found himself staring and quickly shook his head. The aura around Ginny had returned, if not more powerful than it was before. He found himself suffocating in the power. It was almost as if she had Veela powers.

"Ginny," Snape said quickly, "I must ask you to behave yourself." The sentence came out a little bit more snappy than what Snape intended, but it did the job; he could breath normally now; the power aura was barely noticeable.

"But I'm not doing anything," Ginny looked genuinely surprised.

"Yes, you are, although you don't know it." Ginny continued to look confused. This was not going at all how she planned.

"Then what am I doing?" she asked.

"When Wizards and Witches are young, they have a free flow of power about them," explained Snape, "but when they are old enough and get their wands, that power then gets directed and controlled by the witch or wizard. There are some cases, however," Snape indicated Ginny, "where the power cannot be controlled only through the wand. The power is too great for the wand and as such, the user performs magic at unusual times with unusual results. Unless, of course, they manage to control that power through another source – often their hands."

"But I've never been, er, overly-powerful," Ginny frowned.

"I know..." Snape whispered slowly. He could feel the time approaching. It was building up and was almost upon them...

"You-you know?" asked Ginny, her voice rising. "Then when did this-this," she struggled for words, "this thing start happening to me?"

"I believe," said Snape heavily, "that it may have happened in your first year."

Ginny stared hard at him, her eyes wide as understanding dawned on her.

"That's why you've been nice to me all this time?" she asked, her voice calm but her hands clenching the sides of her chair. "You think that something happened in the Chamber! You just want to diagnose me? Watch me? Investigate me?" she spat.

"No," Snape was shaking his head sadly, "I've been nice to you because I want to help you."

Her arms slackened their grip on the chair, but her gaze never lifted. Ginny didn't need to steel herself for what she was about to do; she was numb inside with how foolish she was already, so a little more irrationality could do no harm. She pushed her chair out and walked around to the professor. His eyes followed hers, their intensity mesmerising. He didn't know what she was going to do. He expected her to try and hurt him or something, but what happened was the last thing he had wanted.

She put both her hands on either side of his chin and gently lifted his head to look up at her. She looked at him hard; she observed every line, every scar; she moved his hair out of his eyes and traced his forehead; she moved her eyes over him until he felt that she had seen everything on the outside but wanted to see more.

"I need answers, Professor," she said in explanation, her face mere inches away from his, before she lowered her head and he felt her soft lips touch his own.

His eyes wide open, he stared at the girl in front of him. Her eyes were closed, a tear pushing its way out underneath her eyelid. Her hands clenched tighter around his face, but still her lips were only just touching his. He wanted to grope for his wand and expel her away from him. His hand was already feeling around on the table, when the tear that had finally escaped the girl's eye fell and landed on his cheek. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do anything.

All he could do was close his eyes.

(A/N: And there it is! Yay! So...I know that this isn't supposed to be a romance fanfic, BUT I do need to have some form of bonding. Although, there is a very good and reasonable reason for Ginny's actions. Just gonna have ta wait to find out what! I love it! WonderWhiteRabbit dancing off)