Thanks to nofertiti for the follow!

I loved writing this chapter, much as it killed me to do it to them.


When Ginny felt a hand grab her arm and yank her into a disused classroom, she nearly hexed the stranger's head off. However, as she spun around, huffing indignantly, her eyes widened in recognition. "Draco, what's going on? What's wrong? You look terrible!" The haunted, drawn look on his face made her stomach tighten.

Draco straightened his back, scrapping the emotion off his features. "We need to talk." Unfeeling was what he was. Nothing passed through the barriers around his heart, not even the sparking awareness that simmered inside.

"About what?" Ginny asked cautiously, stepping closer. It was disconcerting how he stared straight into her eyes without blinking. It was as if he was looking through her rather than at her.

"It's time to face facts, Weasley. This friendship we've pieced together is just an illusion." Ignoring her startled look, he continued without pausing for breath.

"I am not your friend. I don't care about you. To me, you're just an experiment, a chance to see how good a liar I've become. Honestly, it's been fun deluding you into believing me. However, tonight is the conclusion of that experiment. I no longer want to talk to you or even see you again except in the hall by accident. You are nothing to me, Weasley."

Each sentence was delivered with cold precision, targeting each of her weak points. It had taken him hours to think of what to say. His goal was to shove her away with the least effort Any more and he was sure what was left of his heart would splinter under the pressure. Therefore, he had created the most hurtful declarations he could muster.

"Draco, I don't unders—"

"Just shut up!" he interrupted harshly, turning to place one palm against the wall and resting his weight on it. The stone's coolness seeped into his skin; it spread through his veins until it reached his heart. Determination restored, he spun back to face Ginny. "My name is Malfoy to you, not Draco. You know nothing about me, Weasley. Don't act like you do."

Her eyes searched his face. The tightness of his skin, the misery hidden in his gaze, betrayed the decisiveness that rang in his voice—this was not what he wanted.

Then why is he doing this to me? she asked herself, hurting more than she should have.

Realization slapped her in the face. Revenge. He's doing this on purpose, just to get back at Harry. That's why he didn't want me to meet with him! Draco even said so himself that he hated Harry and didn't want me going back to him. I was nothing more than a pawn to him. He never liked me as a friend, much less as more than a friend. Humiliated, she averted her eyes.

Unwillingly, her thoughts flashed back to how gently he had held her ankle after she sprained it. The concern in his eyes had seemed so real then. Now that she knew it had been just a lie, she wanted to go back in time and punch him for touching her. How could he have looked at that way, knowing that he was deceiving her?

Despising herself for falling for the deception, Ginny bowed her head to hide the tears burning in her eyes. She had cried for only one other boy before.

Harry, her heart whispered in longing. She missed his warmth and kindness, especially in light of Draco's deception. So soon after pushing away the former, she had been duped by the latter.

Comparing that heartache to her current pain was like comparing Voldemort and Dumbledore. They were similar in their power, but vastly different on the inside. With Harry, she had known that what she was doing was right. Losing Draco, on the other hand, was like getting a hex to the back—staggering and unanticipated.

Seeing her like this caused doubt to creep over Draco's mind. Was this truly the only way? Yes, he answered himself firmly. I won't let her be hurt because of what happens to me. The irony in his reasoning was not lost on him. To protect her, he was destroying whatever was tentatively budding between them.

The feelings were like a string pulled taunt between them, each movement sending shock waves rippling to the opposite edge. He wished he were not so aware of the raw vibrations gushing from her end.

If Draco stayed any longer, he knew he would eventually say something he did not want her to hear. Still, his feet refused to move. I have to leave her with something. Even if she refuses to listen, I have to say something.

"Weasley," he hesitantly began, unsure of the words he wanted to say.

Only a handful would do—any more would betray the inner turmoil and confusion her nearness caused him. This was hard enough for him as it was; his next words would be the last she heard from him. After this, they would go back to hating each other. Personally, Draco doubted he could ever hate her now. Ginny had touched him in ways that made it impossible for him to revert to his old self. For some reason, he doubted he had done the same for her.

But what can I say now? he asked himself. The words had to be perfect.

I'm sorry? For what? Being who he was? He had known the consequences of his actions, yet he had still chosen the path of a Death Eater. So no, he could not say that. The past had finally come back to haunt him, and he had no right to drag anyone else down. It was bad enough for those he was taking with him. Ginny deserved better than anything he could give her.

Thank you? Again, for what? For not turning her back on him when everyone else had? For believing that he was still human inside? Sometimes even he was not wholly sure of that. After all, he was throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to him. Only a monster could look her in the eyes and shatter her expectations so callously.

You're amazing? True, she was amazing, but if he dared to mention it, she was sure to misunderstand. From his mouth, it was not a casual remark. No, from him it was the pure, uncontaminated truth. She was amazing—as well as kind, and beautiful, and witty, and independent, and confident, and frank, and determined, and—

Well, he could not say that either. Doing so would only bring more trouble.

How can you talk to me without curling your lip in disgust? He was not sure he wanted to hear the answer to that one.

What are you doing to me? One word—moron.

Why do I feel like this around you? Ditto on the moron.

So many questions, so many announcements jostled for supremacy that he could not simply pick one and be completely satisfied.

What do I say? How can I say anything at all? I guess the saying is right; the truth does hurt, he mused jadedly, frown lines slashing his forehead. But I have to say something! I've already opened my big mouth, and now she's looking at me like she expects me to say something profound. Mercy, why do I always do this to myself?

"What?" Ginny questioned quietly, noticing the way he seemed to address her feet instead of her face.

For a moment, watching him stand there, framed by the arched columns, the Gryffindor imagined that his name was not Malfoy—that he was not the boy she was supposed to hate. However, the wretchedness in his eyes, the way he kept rubbing his left forearm, laughed at her fanciful wishes.

Her heart ached when she realized he was right. Their friendship was nothing more than misplaced trust between two scarred people looking for a listening ear. Refusing to cry out for him, she bit down on her lower lip until it bled. Her friends were right. Dra—Malfoy was not a good person. She had no business trying to change him.

The pain in her chest exploded into misery as she thrust the memory of his laughter away. No more. I can't care about him. I won't! Just as I am nothing to him, he is nothing to me.

When Draco saw her eyes dim and the pupils widen subtly, he knew none of his words would work. Therefore, left with no other option, he merely nodded stiffly turning and striding towards the door. He paused before grabbing the handle. It was killing him to do this, but he could not leave without saying something else, something more.

With his face hidden from view and his dull, weary eyes safely secreted behind a wall of darkness, he formed all his thoughts and feelings into two words. Two words only, no more. They were very simple words, easily misunderstood by the casual hearer. Nevertheless, he knew she would understand their meaning. She always did.

"Goodnight, Ginevra."

Before she even had a chance to open her mouth, he slipped out the door like a shadow—dark and soundless.


Because it was going just a little too well! Poor Draco, when he finally tries to do the right thing, he messes everything up. Any guesses on what'll happen in the meeting? Is Draco going to Azkaban? Will he realize what he just gave up, pushing Ginny away like he did to "protect her"? Hmmm?

Pansy comes back next chapter! Of all the characters in this story, she's the one who has surprised me the most. She kind of had her own opinion of how I should use her, I guess.

Only five more chapters left! I'm going to miss this story :*(