Draco waited until he had turned the corner to dust off his robes, his tight smile dropping into a scowl. He lifted his hand up and briefly sniffed it, disgusted to find that Umbridge's cloying perfume had lingered on his cloak. Being captain of the Inquisitorial Squad gave him many privileges, but it was not without its costs. All of these after-hours squad meetings really took a toll on his free time, and Umbridge had no qualms about asking him to stay back after everyone else was allowed to leave "to discuss strategy." Her simpering giggle echoed in his head and his scowl deepened. If it wasn't for his father, he would have already told the old cow to go to hell, but he knew that Lucius Malfoy would be most disappointed in his only son for pissing off a "valuable Ministry connection" like Dolores Umbridge. So Draco put up with the vile woman, but his tolerance would only go so far. He shuddered at the memory of her short, stubby fingers wrapped around his arm just moments ago, of her smiling up at him with her oddly pointed teeth. She had reminded him that the Divination professor was getting sacked in the morning and that it was his duty to keep the students under control. He was such a smart, capable student that she was sure he would have no trouble, she had said with a flutter of her clumpy eyelashes.

He wrinkled up his face as he walked down the hall. Disgusting. He quickened his pace though he was unsure where he was going. The library, perhaps. He did have that Charms exam on Thursday. Maybe if he studied he'd be able to best Granger for once.

People stopped talking as he approached, skirting away from him towards the edges of the corridor. He smirked, but it was mostly for show. Having people run at the sight of him had been fun for the first few months but now it was just kind of tedious. There were only so many house points he could take away, after all. The Gryffindors barely had any left.

The word Gryffindor had no sooner crossed his mind when he saw one - Ginny Weasley. She was curled up on a corner bench with some fifth year Ravenclaw he only vaguely recognized. The boy leaned into her, whispered something in her ear, and she giggled, swatting at his chest. Hot spikes of jealousy raced down Draco's body. He wasn't quite sure when these feelings for Ginny had started - probably around the end of last year - but they were undeniably there now. It was a most inconvenient crush to have, not least because the entire Weasley family were blood traitors. She would never look twice at him.

Anger fueled him at that thought and he decided to take it out on the girl in question. He threw on his characteristic smirk and strutted over to them.

"Well, well," he said, letting his voice drawl. "Looks like we've got a couple of rule breakers here."

Ginny broke away from the boy, who Draco finally remembered was called Michael, and glared. "What are you talking about, Malfoy? We're just sitting here," she demanded, shaking her fiery hair out of her face. Draco hated himself for noticing the way the torchlight shone on it, making it look almost golden.

Mentally shaking off the thought, he threw his shoulders back and straightened his robes. "Well, Weasley," he said smoothly, "according to Educational Decree Number Thirty-One, boys and girls are not to be within eight inches of each other, and you and Corner here had maybe three if I'm being generous. So that'll be ten points each from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw."

Ginny stood up, eyes blazing, and Draco had to force himself not to take a step back. He still towered over Granger, but Ginny had grown several inches over the summer. She wasn't the little girl he remembered from last year. Images of him sitting in Corner's place flashed across his mind and he blinked to clear them away.

"You're just jealous," she spat, somehow managing to look down her nose at him despite their height difference. Draco started. How did she know? Was he that obvious?

"You couldn't get a girl to come within eight inches of you if you tried, Malfoy," she continued. Corner laughed. "I bet you're the one who came up with that rule. Umbridge made it just for you so you wouldn't feel left out-"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor!" Draco barked, silencing them both. "Back to your dormitories. Now!" He turned on his heel and stormed off before Corner could even stand up, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Disjointed thoughts flew around his mind, mostly to do with Ginny Weasley's painful death. How dare she embarrass him like that, in public no less? He was captain of the Inquisitorial Squad, for Merlin's sake. He deserved respect. He deserved her respect.

It's not her respect you want, a nasty voice whispered in his mind as he threw the door to the library open, earning himself a glare from Madam Pince. He shook his head, growling in frustration as he slammed his book bag onto an empty table and plopped down into the accompanying chair. He was Draco fucking Malfoy. Who did she think she was? Some nobody blood traitor who could barely afford the robes on her back. She didn't know anything about him. Girls were begging to be with him. Hell, he couldn't get Pansy Parkinson to leave him alone.

Between her and Umbridge I'll never be lonely, he thought jokingly, hoping to cheer himself up and failing. After sitting sullenly for a few moments, he pulled out "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5." Quite apart from the test on Thursday, he had his O.W.L.s to think about. They were still months away, but he had heard from older students that it was easier to study a little bit all year rather than cram at the end. He needed to earn an Outstanding in his Charms O.W.L. in order to go on to N.E.W.T. level. Flitwick would take an Exceeds Expectations, but his father required an Outstanding to allow Draco to go on and study to be a Healer. Healers weren't looked down on in Wizarding society by any means, but it had been centuries since a Malfoy had stooped so low as to work for pay. In order to stomach the embarrassment, Lucius had declared that if Draco was going to be a Healer, he needed to be an excellent one.

He flipped the book open to a random page, anxious now that he had remembered how well he had to do. His father didn't understand it, but healing magic was the best kind of puzzle to Draco. Assessing an injury, rooting out the cause of a mysterious disease, and finding the exact combination of spells and potions to cure it took just the right mix of logic and intuition. It was the same reason he liked Arithmancy - watching the numbers fall neatly into their proper place gave him an inner sense of calm that few other things did. But, of course, he could hardly explain that to his father, for whom anxiety was about as real as a Crumple Horned Snorkack. Lucius Malfoy settled on a course of action and executed - there was no room for doubt or failure.

Draco skimmed the page he had landed on, skimmed it again, and slammed the book shut. He was too angry to think about Charms right now. Besides, according to his father, none of this would matter in a year anyway. The Dark Lord had risen, and things were going to change soon. The thought both excited and alarmed Draco. He'd like to see Ginny Weasley talk back to him then, he thought, ignoring the tight ball of shame that wound itself in his stomach. He could scarcely imagine what the world would be like once the Dark Lord took power. He allowed himself to fantasize for a moment - about the power he himself would have, the influence he would wield. Even Ginny wouldn't be able to look down her nose at him once the Death Eaters were the ones calling the shots. She would beg him for mercy, apologizing for ever insulting him. Yes, he reassured himself, this embarrassment was only temporary. He would be in his rightful place soon, and so would she. He took several settling breaths before reopening his Charms book, determined to study for the exam on Thursday.

"My lord, please forgive me-"

"Silence," Lord Voldemort hissed, waving his hand at his groveling servant. Lucius Malfoy's mouth instantly snapped shut, his forehead mere inches from the floor as he knelt before his master.

"Lucius, Bellatrix, how disappointed I am in you," Voldemort continued, stepping out of Lucius' line of sight. "My finest Death Eaters, routed by a group of teenagers."

"Please, my lord, it was Dumbledore-" Bellatrix started, but her voice cut off after a murmured Silencio from Voldemort.

"Yes, Dumbledore did arrive just in time to save the day, just like he always does. It was your job, however, to make sure there was nothing there to save. But now you tell me that the only recording of this most crucial prophecy has been destroyed forever, and to boot you've exposed me to the Ministry, gotten ten of my Death Eaters sent away to Azkaban, and let Harry Potter escape yet again."

Silence reigned and Lucius forced himself not to shake. The Dark Lord would capitalize on any further signs of weakness. He thought of Narcissa in the conservatory down the hall and prayed that she could not hear this.

"Stand, Lucius."

He did so, unable to stop his knees from quavering just a bit. The Dark Lord, who had been looking out of the large drawing room window, turned and strode toward him, stopping only once they were nose to nose. Lucius kept his eyes downcast.

"By my count, there were six children at the Department of Mysteries tonight," Voldemort said softly. "So I think six minutes of the Cruciatus ought to be punishment enough, don't you think?"

Lucius swallowed. Six minutes of the Cruciatus Curse was unbearable to even think about. He would be lucky to lose consciousness, if the Dark Lord would even permit it. His mind briefly flashed on his own previous victims, on the way their muscles contorted and their bowels voided while under the throes of the curse. He had to act quickly if he had any hope of getting out of this in one piece. "Of - of course, my lord. I gladly accept your punishment and will not fail you again. If I may offer before you begin, all was not lost tonight - the prophecy's label listed the seer who recounted it."

"Oh?" Voldemort dragged the tip of his wand down the side of Lucius' face, causing him to close his eyes.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Sybill Trelawney. She was a professor at Hogwarts, but my son tells me she's recently been sacked-"

Voldemort turned away from Lucius at these words. He removed the spell from Bellatrix, who gasped and began groveling anew.

"Is this true?" he demanded, his voice sharp.

"Yes, my lord," Bellatrix replied breathlessly. "I saw the label with my own eyes. Please allow me to fetch her for you-" But before she could continue, Voldemort cast Silencio again. He returned to the window, looking out at the manor grounds. Lucius stayed still, not daring to move.

"If this seer truly wanders freely, she must be brought to me at once," the Dark Lord said, his back still turned to his most loyal followers. "Bellatrix, you will personally see to it that she is brought to me unharmed. Lucius, for your failure tonight, I am stripping you of your commanding duties. When your son returns home from school, he will take the Dark Mark to serve in your place. If he is able to please me, I'll consider reinstating you. But for now - give me your wand." Voldemort turned to look at Lucius again and Lucius stiffened. His fingers twitched a moment before drawing his wand. He walked to join the Dark Lord at the window, offering the wand to him. The Dark Lord smiled and Lucius dared to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Excellent. Now, let's commence your punishment, shall we?"

Oh, bollocks. This is way too expensive, Ginny thought grumpily as she replaced a rather large watch on its shelf. She had a very meager supply of Muggle money, but she wanted to get Harry the best birthday present she possibly could. He was due at the Burrow tomorrow and Ginny, having inherited the trait of procrastination from her brother Ron, had yet to choose a gift for him.

Well, it's not like I haven't been looking, she thought as she moved towards another part of the small shop, one of the only stores in Ottery St. Catchpole. But nothing has been right. It has to be perfect. Too bad perfect isn't exactly budget-friendly -

"Can I help you with anything, miss?" Ginny turned and found herself face to face with one of the shopkeepers. He appeared to be in his early twenties and was a good deal taller than Ginny.

"Oh no, I'm fine, thank you," she replied quickly, intending to bypass the man to explore the rest of the shop. However, as she side-stepped, so did he, blocking her way.

"Are you sure? Whatever you need, I can help you find." Ginny cocked an eyebrow, realizing that this shopkeeper wasn't just interested in helping her make a purchase.

"Yes, quite sure," she said firmly before pushing past him and hiding herself amongst some old books.

Over the past year or so, Ginny had - in her mother's words - "become a woman." Men looked at her differently now, both in the "real" world and at Hogwarts. She still wasn't quite used to it. Having grown up with six brothers, she rarely thought of herself in "girly" terms.

Going out with Michael Corner and Dean Thomas during her fourth year had given her confidence around boys, enough so that - coupled with a rather long talk with Hermione - she was actually able to speak to Harry Potter without knocking something over or turning as read as her hair. Her memories of their DA meetings were some of her fondest; she couldn't help but break out into a smile every time she remembered him complimenting her on her Reductor curse.

But of course the year hadn't been all good. They had ousted that toad Umbridge and foiled Voldemort's plans once again - but at a cost. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and one of the bravest men Ginny had ever met, had died while fighting Bellatrix Lestrange. It seemed truly a bizarre thing to Ginny, both the fact that he was dead and the method of the death itself. He had simply passed through what Luna Lovegood called The Veil; he was there one minute and gone the next. The suddenness of it, not to mention the lack of a body, made grieving difficult. Harry had been a wreck after it happened and she hadn't been able to do anything for him. Logically, she had known that she should just let Ron and Hermione handle it; they were his best friends, after all. But it still killed her inside to see him suffering at a distance.

Something else bugged her about that night at the Department of Mysteries, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Her mind again turned to The Veil, the way the little black scrap of cloth had fluttered with some invisible wind, the faint murmurings echoing behind it. Hermione hadn't been able to hear it. There was something familiar about it to Ginny, something that tugged just at the edge of her consciousness, but every time she tried to grasp it, it just... slipped away.

Shaking her head a bit, she peered around the bookshelf, checking to see if the coast was clear. The shopkeeper was talking to another young girl who, unlike Ginny, seemed readily interested in his advances. Ginny scowled. The man's pale blonde hair made her think of Draco Malfoy. His sneering face rose in her mind, his stupid Inquisitorial Squad badge shining on his robes. He had been more insufferable than usual this past year, following Umbridge around like an overgrown shadow. Her mind flashed on him holding some of the students back on the morning that poor Professor Trelawney was sacked, the way the woman had sobbed as she was escorted out the front gates by Filch.

Anger fueled her and she stepped out from behind the bookshelf, determined to ignore the Malfoy lookalike. I should go while he's distracted.

"Ginny! What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to be home when Fred and George arrive." She jumped before turning with a smile to face her father who was, for once, dressed in all Muggle clothing.

"I do," she replied, "but I had to pick up something first. What about you? What are you doing here?" Her father looked towards the ceiling.

"Oh, you know, just-"

"Looking for objects to enchant?" Ginny interrupted, her arms crossed and her eyebrow cocked. "Mum's going to kill you, you know." Arthur sighed, his head drooping.

"I know. But honestly, it doesn't hurt just to look- and would you look at that!" He pointed at a little boy who was flipping through a pop-up book, the images standing up as he turned the pages. Ginny rolled her eyes as Arthur hurried over and began talking to the boy, who looked more than a little startled. Arthur returned a moment later, another copy of the pop-up book in his hand.

"The things these Muggles think of," he said with a chuckle. "Come now, let's pay for this and head home. Fred and George are due back any minute; your mother sent me to fetch you."

"But I haven't found a present yet!" Ginny protested.

"Well, you'll just have to make him something, then. You're my clever girl, Ginny; I'm sure you'll think of something brilliant for Harry." Ginny scowled before hanging her head and following her father up to the counter.

The shopkeeper seemed on the verge of saying something to Ginny, but upon catching sight of Mr. Weasley he quickly became all business. Ginny deepened her scowl, her mind back on Malfoy.

"Who was that?" her father asked as he led her to a back alleyway for Apparition. "He was looking at you funny." Ginny simply sighed as she grabbed hold of his arm and Apparated with him back to The Burrow.

The next morning dawned too soon.

"Harry! Mum, Harry's here!"

Ginny jumped to her feet as she heard Ron's voice announcing the arrival of Harry Potter in their home. It was seven o'clock in the morning! What was he doing here so early?

She hurried over to her mirror to fix her rat's nest of hair, her heart racing a bit. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous; she spent a good portion of every summer with Harry, but every time he arrived, she reacted just the same.

"You look lovely, dear," her mirror cooed as Ginny pulled her hair into what she hoped was a charmingly casual bun. "Just pinch those cheeks a bit and he'll be falling at your feet." Ginny rolled her eyes at the mirror before heading down the stairs toward the kitchen.

"Hi, Harry!" she said brightly, grabbing an apple off the counter. "Good trip?"

Harry was already deep in conversation with Ron and Hermione, who had arrived the night before. He turned to her and smiled.

"Yeah, it was, thanks." And with that, he turned back to his friends as though Ginny didn't exist. She frowned a bit, taking a bite out of her apple pensively. She had thought that after all of their DA meetings and their fight in the Ministry, things might have felt, well...different. But it was as though none of that had ever happened, and she was back to being "Ron's little sister."

"I still can't believe Lucius Malfoy managed to get away, that snake," Arthur said as he unfurled the Daily Prophet. In big bold letters, the headline read DEATH EATERS CAPTURED AT MINISTRY INVASION TO FACE SENTENCING. "What I wouldn't give to see his face behind bars."

"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred as he came off the stairs, grabbing Ginny's apple and taking a bite out of it himself, earning a righteous "hmph!" of indignation. "Now Fudge knows what an absolute idiot he's been, and Malfoy won't dare show his face at the Ministry again. It's just a matter of time before he's in Azkaban like all the rest of them."

The various members of her family bustled around the kitchen, engrossed in their own conversations or buttering bits of toast, and Ginny, standing apart, had the sinking realization that she had never felt more alone. Feeling her face become flushed, she walked towards the stairs until she was out of sight. Her pride saved, she bolted up the rest of the stairs to her room and slammed the door.

"Rough time, dear?"

"Just shut up." Ginny threw herself onto her bed and sighed. The sun was shining brightly through her window, mocking her with the promise of a new day. Dejected, she grabbed her wand off of her nightstand and pointed it at her radio. She didn't want to hear her own thoughts right now. The Weird Sisters began singing a catchy tune from their newest album and Ginny closed her eyes, losing herself in the music.

Knock knock.

Ginny opened her eyes a fraction of an inch, puzzled. Who in her house actually thought to knock? Normally they just barged in.

"Come in!" she called. The door opened slowly, revealing none other than Harry Potter himself. Ginny managed to make her shriek of surprise come out more as a strangled squeak than anything else. She sat bolt upright in bed, her heart racing again.

"Hi," she said a little breathlessly. "What's the matter?" Harry looked around the room as if puzzled as to why he was there.

"Oh, um, nothing. I just like that song too."

"Oh. Cool." Harry just nodded. Ginny eyed him warily; despite the fact that their conversation was now seemingly over, he showed no signs of wanting to leave. Instead, he just edged further into the room and busied himself looking at Ginny's slew of family portraits. Had he noticed her get upset downstairs? She cautiously rose to her feet and walked a little closer to him.

"So I've been trying for weeks now to find you a good birthday present, but everything I looked at just seemed weird or stupid or boring. And then my dad said that I should just make you something, but I couldn't think of anything. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry I don't have a present for you, Harry. Happy birthday." Harry turned around and smiled a little.

"It's ok. I don't need anything, really."

Am I imagining this? Ginny and Harry's eyes had locked when he had turned to look at her. The strange thing was, he wasn't looking away. He looked - he looked like the man in the gift shop. His eyes held the same kind of fire.

I can't believe I'm doing this-

"Actually," she said, forcing her voice to remain steady and urging her rising blush to disappear. "I do have a present for you. But it's a surprise. So, close your eyes." Harry nodded obediently and did as Ginny bade. Questioning her sanity the whole time, Ginny took a deep breath, rose up on her tiptoes, and kissed him. It wasn't a pushy kiss - just enough to show that she was there. His lips were soft and warm against hers. She let it linger for a few moments before breaking away. Harry's eyes were wide with shock. Ginny backed away a few steps, her heart in her stomach.

Oh no - what have I done?

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I didn't mean-"

"No!" Harry interrupted quickly, reaching out towards her. "It's not that. I like you too, Ginny. I like you a lot, actually. It's just - Ron and I - he's my best mate and I-"

"If you think I'm going to let Ron dictate who I can and can't date, you've got another thing coming," Ginny replied, her hands on her hips. Harry looked from side to side, apparently debating. Acting on impulse, Ginny hurried forward and kissed him again, deeper than she had before. This time, he kissed back.

And that solves that, she thought joyfully, wrapping her arms around his neck.