Draco turned the handkerchief over and over between his fingers absently as he gazed along the path towards the castle. Half-formed thoughts swirled around inside his head, taunting him relentlessly. Not a moment's peace was his to claim.

In his mind, he replayed his conversation with Ginny. Why had he been so light-hearted? Why had he joked with her and even smiled at her? It was not in his nature to take an action at face-value. No, he had to analyze and deconstruct it to search for the hidden agenda. N obody did something merely out of the goodness of theirhis or her hearts.

So why did he do it? He himself did not know. Perhaps that was the most frustrating fact of all. Then there was Ginny's reaction. At first she had acted just as cool to him as always, but towards the end she seemed to have opened up somewhat. Why was that? What was she trying to gain? Was it all some kind of game for her?

It was all so confusing for the Slytherin. Never before had he felt so helpless, so flabbergasted—not even in his sixth year had he felt this way. At least then he had some inkling of what was expected of him, but now? He had no idea what Ginny wanted from him. Was she trying to "butter him up" to get information out of him for Potter and his gang? Or did she merely do it for fun, to see how far she could bend his thoughts out of shape?

For that was exactly what she had done. His entire thought process was out of sync. Whenever he tried to focus on his lessons, her quiet laugh echoed through his ears, drowning out all other sound. The twinkle in her eye was reflected in every window pane he passed. It was enough to drive him mad! He did not like her, not even as a friend. So why was he so distraughtdistracted? What had she done to him?

The sensation of soft fabric caressing his fingers finally registered in his brain, and Draco glanced down at the handkerchief in his hand with a surprised expression on his facein surprise.

Hmm, I suppose she'll want this back today, he mused with a thoughtful frown. Maybe I can bribe her with it for silence so I won't have to listen to her irritating chatter. I really don't care what her favorite flower or whatever is.

A tiny voice piped up from the back of his mind that it was him, after all, who had asked her what her favorite color was.

Oh shut up, he snarled back to the imaginary voice. I've had enough out of you. Taking a deep, calming breath, Draco resolved to put the matter out of mind for the moment. I'll just ask her why she acted the way she did. Simple as that. What could go wrong?

After standing there for another fifteen minutes, Ginny and Professor Sprout appeared in the distance, walking down the path at a relaxed pace. A growl rose in Draco's throat as he fought down the urge to shout at them.

"Come on," he grumbled under his breath, "I haven't got all day, you know!"

Ginny nodded absently in response to Sprout's chatter, her eyes riveted on the trim figure ahead of her. Outwardly he appeared calm, bored even. But However, his eyes betrayed the frustration their last appearance had caused him. Those shinning grey orbs stared down at her as if it was completely her fault. They condemned her for keeping him waiting.

HoweveAt the same time, she had the uncomfortable feeling that he blamed her for something else as well. A mixture of confusion and tense frustration swirled around in the inky depths, drawing her in like a fish on a lure. A However, a quick blink broke the spell, and Ginny turned her head away from the sight of him. She felt warm, a something's-not-right-and-I-don't-know-what-to-do- about-it kind of warmth. It was so strange! S But she did not have long to ponder it, as Professor Sprout began to instruct them on their detention for the day.

"Hmm, hmm. Well, you two did such a good job yesterday that I decided to let you have some fresh air and sunshine. Instead of working in the greenhouses, you'll be helping Hagrid look for Wiggenbushes near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Professor Slughorn requested a few baskets for Potions class, so be sure to dig up as many as you can today," she beamed encouragingly before turning around and unlocking greenhouse three. Seeing the hesitant expressions on the two students' faces, she waved them off. "Well, go on. Hagrid's waiting for you near his hut," the witch explained.

After exchanging a bemused, unsure lookglances, Ginny and Draco shrugged and began the long trek to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A slow breeze danced past their faces, bringing with it the smell of pine needles and cooking meat. The familiar smell brought a smile to the Gryffindor's face, and she increased her pace in excitement.

Draco noticed the warm gleam in her eyes and wondered what brought it on. Surely it was not because of the oaf of a half-giant? Why would she be happy to see him? Potter, Granger, and the Weasel were the ones the mammoth man always asked about and gushed over. Then again, he did protect her from a stray curse during the fight for Hogwarts. Perhaps she was merely anxious to thank him for saving her.

Soon all that was left of the greenhouses was a vague outline in the distance, the setting sun casting long shadows across the field. There was a distinctive chill in the air, and Ginny was soon stuffing her hands into her robe pockets for warmth. Beside her, Draco pulled up his collar and hunched his shoulders with a scowl.

"I hate the cold," he muttered half to himself. Shaking her head at him in amusement, the Gryffindor took a deep breath and pursed her lips, blowing out slowly. A wispy cloud of ice crystals drifted out of her mouth and floated tranquilly away on the breeze.

Smiling absently, Ginny thought back to when Fred had shown her how to ice skate on their frozen pond in the back yard and how their breath had fogged over, causing eruptions of gleeful giggles to fill the air. It was had been such a happy time, a time before Fred became too old to play silly children's games with his little sister. Because that was all she was to him: a little sister, too young to know when to stop asking to join in her older siblings' Quidditch games.

But now, looking back on that day, she found that she would not trade it for the world. One day, that was all it was—; one day she had spent with her brother. One precious, precious day.

"Do you ever regret taking some things for granted?" she dared to ask, her soft voice taking Draco by surprise.

"What?" questioned the Slytherin, pausing in his walk to face her. Ginny looked over at him out of the corner of her eye. "Do you regret making the choices you did? Taking things for granted?" she rephrased carefully, now fully committed to the inquiry.

She was curious to see what his thoughts were, what he felt about his mistakes. Was he remorseful? Did he feel guilty for what he did? Or was he as cold-hearted as everyone else said and simply did not care about the past? He must have some regrets in life, she thought with a frown.

"I…. I suppose so," he answered vaguely, his eyes sliding away from hers. He had the uncomfortable feeling that she was deciphering his unspoken words and filing them away to study later. How very Slytherin of her, he mused, half angry and half amused. At least she is's learning to use her talents to get what she wants. It's just too bad she decided to use me as her lab rat.

"Well? What are they?" Ginny probed gently.

Her earnest curiosity was disconcerting. Surely she did not care what he thought! She was good, he was evil, there was no graey in between. Or at least, that was what he had been told.

Fine, if you really want to know, then I'll tell you, he thought viciously, a familiar smirk playing across his lips. Games were what he was good at, and games were what he was going to play.

"I regret not cursing Potter when I had the chance. I also regret ever meeting you, for you have since been nothing but a pain in the neck for me. I regret taking silence and privacy for granted, since I've had nothing but your irritating chatter for the past few days. Now, I believe we have a detention to work off," Draco stated casually, walking forward once more. Behind him he could hear a disappointed sigh as Ginny realized that, today at least, she was not going to get any answers out of him.

That ought to teach her not to pry into other people's business, the Slytherin thought with a fleeting grin..

However, the "cold-shoulder" he had given her only served to increase Ginny's curiosity. What went on behind that mask of his? Who was the real Draco Malfoy?

Alright Malfoy, she thought, a devilish smirk growing on her face, two can play at that game.