If you read chapter 7 before it was heavily revised, I advise you heartily to go back and read it! Cheers!

I couldn't find Draco anywhere. I'd searched nearly everywhere I suspected he might be, the kitchens, the Room of Requirement, the library, outdoors at the Quidditch pitch, and I had even lurked near the Slytherin common room.

I'd give him one thing; Draco was fantastic at not being found.

On my way back to my dorm to sulk in peace, I saw Pansy Parkinson with Millicent Bulstrode, apparently going to the Great Hall for supper.

I hesitated; Pansy was a Slytherin, and if anyone would know where Draco was, she was one of the most likely to know.

"Parkinson!" I called, quickening my pace to reach the girl.

She turned around and sneered at me. "What do you want, Weasley?"

I swallowed. "Do you know where Draco is?"

She smirked at me, "so its Draco now, is it?"

I nodded, gaze steely. "Do you know?"

"Why do you want to know?" she countered. "Something to do with the ball, hmm?"

I faltered before remembering what had happened earlier. "Well," I said boldly, "he is my date."

Pansy gaped at me, mouth open like a goldfish. "You aren't serious, obviously, Weasley. Who would believe that?"

"Gullible as you are, Pansy," I said sweetly, "it's true. Moreover, I need to find him. We need to talk."

"I'll bet that he's hiding from you," she said scornfully, "and I wouldn't blame him."

I refused to back down, even as I felt my eyes fill up with tears I didn't want to shed. "Nor would I."

"Actually," I heard a voice say from behind me, a wonderful, brilliant voice, "I was hiding from you, Parkinson."

I spun around so quickly that I almost lost my balance. "Draco!"

Pansy looked like she'd eaten a lemon. "Is she bothering you, Drakie?" she asked through gritted teeth.

He looked at her levelly, putting his arm around my waist and drawing me to him. "I'm used to it," he said, winking at me. "Hey, pardner."

I rolled my eyes, "so now it's okay to use that phony accent?"

"You did it first!" he pouted, lower lip jutting out adorably.

I laughed and pecked him on the cheek. "I'm sorry," I whispered in his ear.

I heard a huff of disgust before Pansy stalked away, hauling Millicent behind her.

"How much did you hear?" I asked, biting my lip as he pulled me into an empty corridor.

"Enough." He pulled me down with him and we sat on the cold stone.

"I really am sorry," I said, snuggling against him.

"So am I," he said, ducking his head, making blonde strands fall into his eyes. "I should have known to give you some time."

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, my head in his lap as he stroked my hair in the most relaxing way humanly possible. It was making me sleepy.

"Draco?" I asked languidly, eyes fluttering.

"Gin?" he removed his hand from my hair, instead tracing delicate circles over my hands, which were clasped tightly in my own lap.

Gently, he loosened my tense fingers, and I sighed in utter contentment.

Before I could lose my train of thought, I asked him. "Where were you the whole time?"

He chuckled softly. "In my dorm, behaving like a right utter prat. Blaise finally got sick of it and locked me out, whereupon I found you talking to Pansy in the entrance hall."

"You aren't a prat," I mumbled, "only half of the time." Fuzziness clouded my eyes. Lack of sleep had rendered me incoherent.

"Half the time indeed." He smiled softly at me, eyes a soft, sterling silver grey. "What were you up to with Luna?"

I yawned, frowning as I tried to remember. "She finished my dress," I said, "and then she made me go and look for you so I could say I was sorry."

"How does it look?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know," I pouted, "she wouldn't let me see it. And she's not going to let me have it until Saturday."

His free hand came up and traced my lips, my eyes, my cheeks. "How unfair," a hint of a smirk on his face. "But you have the mask."

"Y-Yeah," I replied. My eyes closed and I yawned before I fell into a blackened oblivion.

I shifted uncomfortably, as the lap I was lying on was shaking. I opened my eyes sleepily, to see Draco glaring at someone, white-hot anger in his mercury grey eyes.

I touched his tensed jaw with my hand, looking at him inquisitively.

"OI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, GENEVIEVE MOLLY WEASLEY?" I heard Ron's voice, riddled with anger.

I shot up like a muggle rocket and glared at Ron, who was flanked by Hermione and Harry, both of whom were wearing looks of shock on their faces.

Ron lunged toward me, hauling me away from Draco.

I stumbled and quickly regained my balance. I didn't have the time to fall down now.

"WELL, I WAS SLEEPING!" I shot back angrily. I wrenched my arm back, holding it where I could see fingerprints. Ron's fingerprints.

He moved as if to grab me again.

"STOP!" Hermione's voice shot out. She avoided my gaze, but defied Ron. "You've bruised her arm. Leave her be."

Harry's authoritative voice broke the sudden quiet. "What's going on here, Ginny?"

I focused on the ground as I spoke. "It all started with the ball. Draco," Ron's jaw clenched, but he remained silent, "was paired with me at a 96%, which was higher than any other pair. He also saved me when I was executing a particularly difficult Quidditch maneuver and fell. And, well," I looked straight into Ron's eyes, "I don't care that he's a Malfoy because he's been nothing but a gentlemen. A-And," I took another deep breath, "I fancy him."

Ron looked at me in shock. "What sort of spell has that bastard got you under?" he yelled loudly.

"No spell, nothing," I said quietly.

"You bloody twat!" he shouted again before launching himself at Malfoy's still form.

I watched in silent horror while they grappled. Ron landed multiple punches first, but slowly began to find himself at a disadvantage against Draco. I heard a suspicious snapping sound as he succeeded in pinning Ron to the ground and. Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron's throat, glaring angrily, before releasing him and stepping back.

Ron's robes were torn and blood was leaking from his puffy lip. He looked at me and then at Draco, as if unable to comprehend what was happening. "You just wait until I owl Mum," he snarled at me before stalking away, holding the remnants of his snapped wand.

Harry and Hermione quickly followed him out, not looking at me.

I stood there, shaking, finally coming to myself and flinging my limp body into Draco's arms and sobbing uncharacteristically.

He held me tightly, peppering my wet face with kisses, muttering sweet nothings in my ear.

"Shh, Gin, its okay….it's all right….I'm sorry….it's okay…."

Eventually, I calmed down enough to be rightfully indignant.

I gazed up at him, "I'm so sorry, Draco."

"It's fine; he's needed that reality check since first year." He smiled at me reassuringly.

"You're hurt!" I fingered his eye, which was beginning to swell. "You need to go to the hospital wing."

"So do you," he said, his jaw clenching at the sight of my arm, which had bruises in the shape of fingerprints.

"If he wasn't your brother, he wouldn't be conscious right now," Draco said angrily.

"I know," I said soothingly. "Now let's go, that eye looks painful."

Draco picked up my messenger bag, even as I protested, eying his bruised body with concern. He rolled his eyes at me and we trudged to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey bustled over to us as soon as we opened the door.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed fretfully, "Mr. Malfoy, what have you been up to?" she looked at him suspiciously, completely ignoring me.

"There he is!" I heard my brother yelling, "That evil git has been corrupting my sister!"

Pomfrey turned to me, seeming to realize that I was there. "Contain yourself, Mr. Weasley; shouting will not be tolerated in my infirmary!"

He settled back onto his bed, huffing indignantly, Harry and Hermione speaking to him quietly.

"Miss Weasley, is there anything that you require?" Pomfrey asked me while pulling Draco over to another bed, far away from Ron. She had him shrug off his robe and roll up the sleeves of his white oxford. She began pulling vials out of a large cabinet.

I took care to speak loudly and precisely. "Just some bruises that I have on my arm."

I heard a small gulp. I smirked, satisfied, as I sat at Draco's bedside, clasping his hand in mine.

He shook his head and smiled at me. "You're becoming more and more like a Slytherin, Gin."

Pomfrey's eyes darted curiously between the two of us, and she smiled slightly as she handed Draco a small bottle filled with a blue-black liquid. "Drink that, Mr. Malfoy."

He swallowed it in one go, grimacing at the taste.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Malfoy?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"Not me," he said, "Gin needs something, though."

I looked up, shocked that he would call attention to me before himself. I frowned at him, a silent rebuke to a Harry-esque move.

She smiled at me, her features relaxing. Pomfrey was well known as a hopeless romantic, despite her stern demeanor.

"Drink this, Miss Weasley." She handed me another vial. Similar to Draco's, but even smaller.

I did, the bitterness lacing through my mouth and trickling down my throat, making me cough violently. Draco handed me his water glass.

"Thanks," I wheezed out, taking a small, steadying sip.

"If there isn't anything else," Madame Pomfrey looked at squarely at the both of us, "then you may go. Miss Weasley, I'm sure that you'd be interested to know that your brother is staying for a couple hours, just for observation."

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," I said, picking up my book bag and following Draco out. "Thank you."

"It's a little late," said Draco, "let's just go and get something to eat from the kitchens."

My stomach rumbled in agreement. I blushed while Draco smirked at me, and said, "That'll be fine."

"I need to send my mum a letter, though," I paused, "and tell her about…us…before Ron does."

"Of course," he said, looking slightly worried. "Will she be okay with it?"

I turned to him as we walked. "I don't know, but she has always respected my choices, unlike Ron. I'm sure that she'll love you once she meets you."

"And the rest of your brothers?"

"Worried, my little ferret?" I teased, grinning.

"A little bit," he admited, "all in all, it's six to one, which is hardly an ideal ratio."

"Expect lots of death threats from them," I said, "or you can just go and find Pansy. If you can't handle it, I mean."

He looked at me incredulously. "Is that a challenge, little Weaselette?"

"It is."

"I do love a good challenge," he stepped a little closer to me, making me pause, "if there's an exceptional reward. You see, I don't plan on wasting my time if there isn't anything to be gained from it."

I looked up at him. "Is that right?"

"Inde-" he stopped talking as I stepped on his toes, elevating my own height to meet him, arms around his neck.

Slowly, teasingly, I brought my lips to his, just barely brushing them, before stepping back and grinning lazily. "Is that enough of a reward?"

He swallowed, looking at me with darkened eyes. "It'll do for now."

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