Late again -_- My Beta Reader is gonna murder me for changing this so many times.

Anyways, thanks toooooo:

Eirlys1 for review. Sorry it took so long :((

Thomastshu for the follow

Vampiress35-94 for the favorite

roni2010 for another lovely review :D

Fred for review. Yep, you've read this before and asked your first question. I answered it a few chapters back ;) Hopefully I did a good job explaining my thought process, if not, sorry again! As to Ginny's thoughts, maybe this will bring a little insight into what I'm trying to do. But I agree that she was very upset and unlikely to forgive and forget this fast. That's kind of what motivated this chapter's direction, so thanks for helping my writer's block! hehe

Brielle Montegomery for the follow, favorite, and review! Ohh my, thank you so much for the encourgement :)) And sorry for taking so long, I've been tweaking this one for ages, even after my Beta read over it lol. After reading what you said, I went back and saw how boring this was and tried to add a lil humor in every now and then. Just plain reflection is so dull doncha think? Don't freak out when you read the last two lines though! She hasn't fallen for him yet ;)

Ginny Weasley declares that she likes Draco in the next chapter! But maybe not in the way ya'll would hope hehe.

Hopefully the humor in here isn't over the top.


Ginny gazed out the rain-splattered window as Professor Flitwick scurried past her. "Well done, Ms. Weasley, well done!" he puffed, fluttering his hands in a hurried wave. Murmuring a "thank you Professor," the Gryffindor let her classmates' voices drift away and her own thoughts take their place.

What's wrong with me? she wondered. Why do I feel as if I've betrayed my family and my friends by enjoying myself around Malfoy? I smiled with him, laughed with him... Merlin! I even tried to excuse his actions by telling him the War had hurt everyone. Nothing could ever excuse what he did—not even the bloody smile he gave me the other day. On the other hand, what a smile! I always thought his facial muscles had long since withered and that his face was frozen into a permanent smirk.

A half sigh, half snort erupted from her lips and caused the students around her to glance up in concern. Once they saw the glassy shine in Ginny's eyes, they assumed she was thinking about Harry or her family again. They always assumed. No one ever truly understood what she was struggling with; they merely chalked it up to boy troubles or family problems. After all, losing a brother would make anyone "zone out" sometimes.

"Poor Ginny."

"She's so strong, carrying on like this."

"How does she do it?"

"I would just die if Harry Potter dumped me."

They quietly turned back to their charm work, murmuring sympathies they thought she could not hear. Ginny shook her head wryly at their behavior. How silly her peers were, assuming Harry had been the one to "dump" her, when really she had been the one to end their relationship.

Harry...

It doesn't hurt anymore to think about him, she realized sadly. Though she knew she had made the right choice by breaking off her relationship with Harry, she still missed the security he had given her. His love had been concrete, a truth she had found comfort in. Who was she without him? Deep down she knew the answer—she merely loathed having to admit it. It reminded her too much of a sappy romance novel.

Besides, she hated telling the truth all the time. It made everything so messy and complicated. All too often she ended up getting the proverbial Bludger to the face for her trouble. Which was why most of the time, she simply did not bother. A well-placed white lie tied things up quite nicely.

Seems I have more in common with Malfoy than I first thought, she pondered, tapping her fingers on the desk absently.

Nevertheless, she had yet to find out a way to lie to herself—lie completely, that it. The "truth" was she was Ginny (not Ginevra. Never Ginevra. Honestly, what was her mother thinking, giving her poor daughter such horrid name?). If she wanted to admit the entire truth (which she very well did not), she would say that she also happened to be the girl who dared reach out to the enemy when no one else would.

How very cliché, Ginny thought with a snort. I'm a poet and I didn't even know it. Where were these skills during my first year? Could have used 'em writing that bloody card for Harry. Maybe then Malfoy wouldn't have made me the laughing-stock of Hogwarts, the prat.

Against her wishes, her thoughts latched back onto the Slytherin. Why could the confidence she felt about her feelings for Harry not transfer to her feelings about Draco? Why was she so confused? It should have been easy to recognize where she stood. Everyone else knew how they felt about him. He was Draco Malfoy: Death Eater and Voldemort supporter. He was, simply put, evil.

So why did it feel so wrong? If it was true, then surely she would have felt some sort of satisfaction at being proved right. Ever since she first saw him on the Hogwarts Express her first year, she knew he was not a good person. But did that really make him a bad person?

Maybe her world was not as black and white as she had thought it was.

Oh Fred! What would you have done? she wondered, her wit falling to the wayside as doubt crept over her. Probably thrown a Bludger in his face, that's what—maybe even stuffed itchy powder down his trousers while you were at it. You certainly wouldn't have tried to comfort him. So why did I?

She suddenly imagined her brothers looking down at her quizzically with eyebrows raised, arms folded over their chests and legs spread apart. It was a situation she had, unfortunately, found herself in far too often.

I still say it was Ron's fault, she mused sourly, remembering the last time they ambushed her. It had not been pleasant, but she had still walked away the victor of quips. But enough thinking about past problems, I need help with my current one! It was easy for her to picture her brothers crowding around her again, so often had they done it before.

"Hey Gin-bug, what's wrong?" Charlie would ask her, and she would immediately pour out her worries to them. Her brothers were always there for her, always ready to help—even the dolt, Ron.

Bill with his scarred face and kind, laughing eyes... Charlie, playfully nudging her with his elbow and whispering that he would try to sneak her some butterbeer later... Percy with his back straight, a smile hidden within his neutral features... Fred and George, gleefully winking at her behind Percy's back... And dear, silly Ron, always saying the wrongs things for the right reasons.

She could count on them. Could she honestly say the same about Draco?

More importantly, did it matter anymore? If not, when had it stopped mattering? Was there a definite point in their shared history she could blame for being the one that made her look past his faults? Maybe it had been a combination of events that made her see the real Draco, the Draco his family's name and history had suppressed.

Or maybe she had finally gone loony. Did crazy people know they were crazy? She would have to ask Luna about that sometime later. But no, she could not. Normal people did not go around asking if crazy people knew they were crazy. Someone might get suspicious... Too risky, she finally decided

Ginny quickly shook her head, burying the disconcerting thoughts. Back to the matter at hand: is Draco Malfoy worth a second chance? And if so, am I ready to give him one?

The fact was she could not discount the past few days. They had happened, whether she wished to acknowledge them or not. They had changed the way she saw him, and now she was afraid she could never go back to hating him as vehemently as before.

Something in his eyes last night had touched her and given her the courage to reach out. It had been both fragile and hardened, that look, something forged through persecution she would never experience. For a moment she had thought he would accept her offer—of what, even she did not fully know—but then he pulled away. He always pulled away.

After mulling it over in bed, however, she had come to realize why he did it. Mere weeks ago it would have seemed preposterous; he was a Malfoy after all. Nevertheless, the truth was:

Draco Malfoy was afraid.

Though he might deny it, inside he was still a little boy yearning for praise. However, like any child, more than anything he feared he would never be good enough—that he would never be recognized as truly worth it.

So was it her duty to pat him on the back and tell him he was being a good boy? After everything he had done to her and her family? He was the reason Bill had scars slashing his face and had to eat all his meat raw. George lost his ear and Fred lost his life thanks to Death Eaters like Draco. How could she forgive him for the evil he had done?

However, there was also a vulnerability in him that made it hard for her to look him in the eye and say, "I hate you." Though his crimes were great, so was his regret—and he knew it. Sometimes Ginny did not know whether he despised himself more for his ill-willed deeds or for his own guilt-laden mind.

Last night, when she said she pitied him, she had meant it. Draco was at war with the world. Though the battles were shorter, they took a greater toll on him than before. This time there was no one for him to turn to. He was truly a one man army against an innumerable horde. And she pitied him for it. How could one person win a war by himself?

Despite her young age, Ginny knew all about war, had seen the effects it had on people. Sometimes the change was good; more often it was not. George did not smile and joke like he used to; conversely, Neville was now sure of his place in the world. Two different people, two different outcomes.

Which one would Draco undergo? The good change? Or the bad change?

That was why I said what I did, Ginny realized. I didn't want him to choose the wrong one. Voldemort destroyed enough lives. I won't let him destroy another—even if that life is Draco Malfoy's.

"Look, she's smiling now. She's so brave..."

And she was brave—brave enough to try reaching out again. It would take even more guts, not to mention lunacy, than the first time. Most likely her efforts would go to waste as he shrugged the words off like lint on his robe. No matter what, though, she was determined to crack that frosty barrier he projected. Ginny Weasley did not give up without a fight.

That evening, she told Draco the three words she never imagined she would one day say to him.

"I like you."

And the worst part? she mused in resignation. I'm telling the truth again.


Before ya'll gasp and exclaim that it's too soon, let me say that not everything is as it seems. (evil grin) Read top for more explanation!