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Elemental	By : AngelaBlythe Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 3286 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 5
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- 7
ELEMENTAL

~by The Labris~

CHAPTER SIX:

Well Met

Because Sometimes It Hurts, Part II

Ginny turned to Blaise
uneasily. �Why aren�t you going home for break, Blaise?�

Blaise shrugged. �Didn�t
feel like it.�

�Oh,� Ginny replied. She re-crossed her legs and
brushed the imaginary dust off of her skirt. The dank, old room was good
for two things: privacy and quiet. But, Ginny didn�t feel like being
quiet, and she didn�t feel like being alone. So when she found Blaise, she dragged him along with her under the pretense
of wanting him to read some of her new poetry.

But as Blaise read her poetry, she
couldn�t sit still. Eventually, Blaise�s
midnight eyes looked at her, one eyebrow raised, and Ginny sighed.

�Spill,� he said commandingly, closing her notebook.

Ginny smiled. �I�m going somewhere this break.
Out of the castle. I�m going to meet someone very important to me.�

Blaise�s aristocratic eyebrow rose
again. �I thought you were staying here for Christmas.�

�I am,� Ginny replied. �I�m sneaking out, and you�re
going to help me.�

�Moi? Help?�

�Yes,� Ginny said, taking one of Blaise�s
hands and putting it over her heart. �Do you feel that, Blaise? Do you feel it? That is my heart racing
a thousand and two light years per hour because of a boy. Blaise, I think I�m in love.�

Blaise took his hand from her
chest and put it in both of his. Looking at it, seeming a little sad, he
said, �The diary bloke?�

Ginny nodded, her heart beating faster and faster.
�Yes. I finally told him I�ll meet him.�

�That could be dangerous,� Blaise
said in a low voice. �I�m not talking about getting caught; I can make
sure you don�t get caught. I�m talking about dangerous for you, Ginevra.�

Ginny frowned. She had told Blaise
everything, trusting him completely. She had told him about being an
Elemental and a Dreamweaver. Blaise had actually been very helpful when it came to Dreamweaving. He let her experiment on him. He
would sleep, and she would try to tell him what he was dreaming
afterwards. He would sleep, and she would try to send him
something. Sometimes it would work; other times it gave her a massive
headache. He hadn�t been able to help her much in the Elemental area, but
then, she didn�t know how to help herself.

Sometimes, Ginny reflected, she could make the fire do
things. When she was very cold and the fire was dying, sometimes it would
get bigger, and a small gust of warm wind would blow her way. It would
always make her pass out; the amount of energy it took to do simple things was
more than she expected.

�You know what I mean, Ginevra,� Blaise said softly.

He looked at her, his normally hard eyes softer than usual,
and Ginny sighed. �I have to meet him, Blaise.
Haven�t you ever been in love?�

Blaise turned from her, letting go
of her hand. �Yes,� he whispered. �And I�m very confused.�

Ginny bit her lip and took hold of his hand again.
�What happened?� she asked simply.

Blaise turned back to her and
snorted. �What do you think? You happened, Ginevra.
You happened.�

Ginny let of his hand and frowned. �What do you mean, Blaise?�

Blaise stood violently, his chair
flying back and hitting a dusty desk. He paced, knocking a few chairs out
of the way as he ran his hands through his hair and said, �CHRIST, Ginevra! You just don�t get it, do you?!? Can�t
you see what you do to every person you FUCKING TALK TO!?! You look at a
person, just LOOK at them, and they crumble! Can�t you see the looks, the
stares, the awe? You glow with something no one�s ever seen! And
you don�t know why people fall in love with you! You don�t know why Colin
still loves you! You�ve got to be the blindest person I know!�

Ginny had stood by then, her knees weak. She shook all
over, her eyes beginning to water. Finally she just collapsed on the
ground and clutched her stomach. �I�m sorry!� she wailed. �I�m
sorry!�

She sat there shaking for a moment before she felt the soft
hands on her shoulders, and she looked up at Blaise.
His eyes were soft again, and he looked truly sorry.

�Ginevra,� he said quietly to
her. �Look at me.�

She did.

�Ginevra,� he repeated. �I�m
not angry at you; you don�t have to apologize. I�m angry at me. It
isn�t your fault; none of it is. Blame the gods...blame God! But
don�t blame yourself. Please. Please don�t be angry with me.
Don�t be angry with yourself. Just...just hold me for a second.
Please.�

Ginny swallowed and threw her arms around Blaise, holding him tightly as she cried. Her grasped
onto her, his strong arms almost stopping her breath. She heard him sob,
and she cried harder.

Ginny didn�t really know why she was crying; she suspected
neither of them did. But with all the pressure of finals and love and
everything, somewhere, both of them had become confused. Blaise most of all.

After a while, Blaise pulled back
and grabbed a handkerchief, letting Ginny wipe her eyes and then using it
himself. They sat there for a while, just looking at each other. In
some ways, Ginny knew Blaise loved her, and in some
ways, Ginny loved him. But deep down, Ginny knew Blaise
wasn�t confused because he was in love with her; Blaise
was confused because he was unfamiliar with love in general and had confused
her kindness and attention for her being in love with him. Without
knowing how to respond, he developed feelings.

Ginny sighed, crossing her legs and frowning.
�Better?� she asked.

�Much,� he said quietly. He paused, looking at
her. �Ginevra ��

�Blaise,� Ginny interrupted, �let
me.�

Blaise nodded.

�I understand,� Ginny said slowly, �that you�re
confused. I understand that you don�t really love me like that.
We�ve both been under a lot of stress lately, and I think we got really,
terribly mixed up. I don�t take it personally; really I don�t. But
you have to promise me you won�t take it personally when I say I don�t love you
that way. You�re my friend; I want it to stay like that.�

Ginny looked him squarely in the eye, and he nodded again.

�Thank you, Ginevra,� he said
quietly. �Thank you for understanding. I think I do love you just
as a friend; you�re right.� He smiled briefly. �But what I said is
still true; you confuse me a whole hell of a lot. And you are
beautiful. You�re so damn beautiful. Any bloke you want, you could
get them to fall in love with you. I want you to fall in love with
someone too. I want you to be happy.�

Ginny smiled again. �Thank you, Blaise.�

She licked her lips and sniffed
a little, letting Blaise help her up after he
stood. A small smile on his face, he turned to her and said, �Now about
sneaking you out of the castle...�

�

Hint Number One

The first thing you�re
going to need is a means of not being seen. Whether you find a charm or a
spell, you need to not be seen. This can be done with the Chameleon Charm
or by use of Invisibility Cloak.

�Hiya, Harry,� Ginny said
brightly, plopping down in front of the fire. Trying to look as carefree
as possible, she smiled at him and read the cover of his book.

�Again?� Ginny teased. �Haven�t you read Quidditch Through the Ages a zillion times
already?�

Harry frowned slightly. He was obviously confused
about why she was there, so Ginny volunteered the information.

�Harry,� she said in a business-like fashion, �I have
something very important to do, but that same something is frowned upon here at
Hogwarts.� She had rehearsed it a thousand times, trying to play on his
sense of mischief. �Harry, I need to be invisible. I know you have
something that could help me; I�m not deaf, and I�m not dumb.�

He put the book down, still suspicious. �I�ll buy
that,� he said slowly. �But I need to know why.�

Ginny bit her lip and looked around shiftily. �I don�t
think I can talk about it,� she said, resting upon the hope that he wouldn�t
pry too far into her business.

He looked at her hard, obviously wavering between giving it
to her or not. She had him intrigued at least. �I don�t know,
Gin. Ron says your mum is in danger. Going and getting her or
trying to see her might put you in danger too.�

Ginny�s eyes went wide; to cover it, she rubbed them
furiously. �Um, sorry, but that isn�t exactly why I need it. I...I
have something I need to do...it�s really important, Harry.� She�d run
out of options. All she had now was begging. �Please, Harry!
You�ve got to believe me! I�ll tell you all I can when I get back.
I won�t be gone that long! Six or seven hours! No one will even
miss me. Please!�

It took a moment of really good puppy dog eyes to convince
him, but in the end, Ginny got the cloak.

Hint Number Two

The next part is a
viable excuse. Sure, playing sick is always a good plan, but then you�ve
got the bozos like Creevey, no offence, who always
want to check up on you and see how you�re doing. You can claim
contagion, but then the nurse gets involved. No, the best thing is to say
you�re really tired, especially with Colin. He knows how much � or should
I say how little? � you sleep. He will understand if you want to sleep.

And lock the door, for
the love of Merlin.

Ginny yawned, stretching out like a cat on the floor of the
common room. Colin and Dean were sitting on the couch and talking about Quidditch, Colin being an avid follower, almost as much as
Dean. She padded quietly over to them and yawned again for good measure.

�Night, you two,� she said in a sleep-laden voice, kissing
each on the cheek as she usually did. �I�m really tired for some
reason. Not enough sleep, I guess.�

�Are you feeling okay, Ginny?� Dean asked in a worried
voice. �I mean, you can hardly afford to lose any weight as it is.
Don�t go and get sick.�

Ginny snorted. �Sure, you flirt. No, I�m just
really tired. I feel fine. I think I�m going to sleep though
tomorrow.�

�Ah,� Colin said, leaning back on the couch, �the joys of
break. Have a happy rest day, Gin. I�ll see you tomorrow, or most
likely the day after tomorrow the way you need sleep.�

�Night, boys,� Ginny said, going up to her room.

She locked the door behind her.

Hint Number Three

You�ve already
designated yourself as wearing black. I can�t fault you there; you look
great in black, Ginevra. Everything else is
tricky. Black skirt and black shirt, I�d do that in a heartbeat.
But make-up and accessories, believe me, you need to go low on the
accessories. Don�t draw attention away from those freaky eyes of
yours. Have I ever told you that you have the craziest eyes I�ve ever
seen? Not bad crazy though. Intriguing crazy.

Plain gold necklace
with a gold ring on it. Put a ring on your finger and put in some gold
studs, and you�ll be good. Leave your hair down; that�s always
sexy. Didn�t you tell me your mother has a fur obsession? Mine
does, that�s for sure. But I�ve seen your fur coat, the black one lined
in that soft bunny fur. That�ll do.

Ginny looked at herself in the mirror. She was so
pale; she almost hated it. But then she remembered Reader had said his
mother was pale, and he considered her beautiful. Ginny sighed, hoping
she didn�t remind him too much of his mother. Personally, she would love
to meet his mother. To meet another Elemental would make her dreams of
controlling her ability come true.

Ginny sighed, slipping on the gold chain necklace her mother
had got her for her thirteenth birthday. She slipped one of her Grandmum Eva�s rings on the necklace and one on her pointer
finger, frowning slightly as the color in her eyes intensified.

She looked at herself again. The black skirt was a
little short for winter, just a few inches into her thighs. But her black
boots Charlie had given her looked good with her outfit. The boots were
made of black dragon hide, very expensive. But then Charlie did have
connections, and dragon materials had always been on the house.

After her hair was brushed delicately and curled a little at
the ends, Ginny looked at herself again and smiled. It was much better
than she had hoped for.

She pulled on her fur coat and grabbed her black
sunglasses. Glancing in the mirror, she blew herself a kiss for good
luck.

Hint Number Four

The actual sneaking
out will be the easiest part, Ginevra. First of
all, my father OWNS the Floo Network. How do
you think I get off campus? I have my own stash of Floo
powder and a mapping device that can open up any hearth in the world to the
World Wide Floo Network.

Really, Ginevra, how else would I get out of here Hogsmeade weekends? Do you ever see me at Hogsmeade? I mean when I don�t go with you.

Now take this powder,
and from 9:00 to 9:05 a.m., the Floo will take you
anywhere you want to go.

Be careful, Ginevra. You�ll have to tell me all about it when you
get back.

Keeping Track of Time

Ginny stuck a hand in the Floo pot
on her fireplace. Taking a deep breath, she looked into the fire and
contemplated her choice. She could always back out if she didn�t feel
ready.

9:02

And really, did she have to meet him? The whole diary
thing had been going so great. There were so many things she felt free
saying in the book that she didn�t know if she could say out loud.

9:03

What if he wasn�t there? What if she was waiting there
for hours, and he never came? What if he was a phony like all the rest of
them, and he didn�t really care about her?

9:04

But what if he did?

9: 05

Ginny threw the Floo in the
hearth. �Emerson�s Coffee Shoppe!�

9:06

The fire burned brightly.

Well Met

Draco shivered slightly against
the cold. The outside of the coffee shop would be heated; they always did
that sort of thing on Diagon Alley during the
Christmas season. He passed by the happy witches and wizards, witches
dragging laughing children behind them. The big-eyed children were in awe
at all the gifts and shiny things within hand�s reach.

Draco silently wondered what it
would have been like to be one of those children. To have his mother drag
him by the forearm through masses and masses of gaudy presents and chattering
people. He didn�t think his mother was the dragging type.

He looked at his pocket watch. It was eleven on the
dot. He�d barely been able to contain himself that morning. He�d
paced to and fro for hours. He�d confided in his mother what he was going
to do, who he�d met and what he knew about her. His mother had called it
romantic and smiled wistfully, her aqua eyes going distant for a moment.

He had wanted to question his mother but had
refrained. Instead, he had gone to Diagon Alley
and made his way from one side to the other, trying to decide what he would buy
Writer. It would have to be something simple, but something she would
appreciate. He wanted to shower her with gifts but knew gifts wouldn�t be
the way to Writer�s heart.

Draco had walked into the
bookstore with no idea what to get her. And then it dawned on him.
A diary. It was perfect. It would replace the one he had filled
with his...with his ugliness. He regretted writing some of the things he
had written, but he didn�t regret that she knew them. He just regretted
dirtying the book that had so many of her happy memories in it. At least
she�d have a new book to start memories in.

How foolish or young or impulsive Draco
looked or felt didn�t matter to him as he bought a dozen lilies for
Writer. The person selling them smiled at him, called him a beautiful
youth and winked. Draco thought lilies would be
better than roses. Roses might be too intimate. So walking up Diagon Alley to Emerson�s Coffee Shoppe, lilies and blank
diary in hand, Draco allowed himself to smile.

That was until he got to Emerson�s. It was a small
place, humble with an air of sophistication. Draco
understood why Writer liked it so. It was her atmosphere, very in
character. In the gated, outside seats of the little coffee shop, there
sat quite a large group of people. Most of them appeared older than him
but not quite adults. And in the corner of the gated area sat a woman in
a black coat with brown fur lining the edges, her ruby red hair flowing over
the sides.

Draco stopped breathing for a
moment. Even at a distance, she was beautiful. He vaguely thought
he looked like a fool, standing there with his lilies in hand, gazing at a
woman not ten meters from him. A pale hand reached up, and she pulled off
her sunglasses, putting them inside a purse. She stopped to sip her drink
and wrote something on a napkin with a well-loved quill.

Exhaling fully, Draco forced
himself to take step after step until he was inside the gated area. A few
women looked at him, smiling and chattering about how lucky someone was. Draco ignored them. His eyes were for Writer.
He licked his lips, taking steady steps until he was right next to her.

Then he sat across from her, not bothering to be invited,
and stared at her face.

He was sure his face didn�t give away his surprise.
Surprise because he was sitting next to a WEASLEY!

Draco felt like fainting.
Well, not fainting, but he felt surprised. He could only imagine how she
felt. He gazed at her, but no emotions played across her face. In
fact, she appeared to be very deep in thought. She looked exactly like
she had not moments before when she had no idea he was there. Draco vaguely wondered if he was there. Her fingers
went to her lips in a contemplative fashion. Draco
longed to touch the lips himself.

He wasn�t going to lie; she was very beautiful. In
fact, her fleshy red lips and dazzling copper-bronze eyes made him
shiver. He could only imagine what her perfect, pure, white hands could
do. And when the black of her dress contrasted with her hair like that,
her hair almost looked like blood. She was stunning. And whoever
Painters was, was right. She was a little terrifying. Terrifyingly
beautiful and strange. Yet so, so beautiful.

Finally, her left hand drew away from her lips, and she
extended her right. Her face completely straight, though a small hint of
amusement in her eyes and lips, she said, �Ginny Weasley.�

Draco didn�t hesitate. His
hand met hers, and he almost died. A shock went through his body like he
had never felt, and he was distracted by soft wind that sang. �Draco Malfoy,� he replied in a
soft, awed voice.

His hand and whole body felt suddenly cold when she let go
of his hand. She smiled an amused sort of smile.

�I imagine you�re rather surprised,� she said
thoughtfully. �I am too. But at the same time, I don�t think I am.�

�Yes,� he whispered. �I mean no,� he amended
quickly. Her smile encouraged him. �I�m not completely surprised.�

She cocked her head. �Coffee, Draco?�

As she said it, a cup of steaming coffee appeared on the
table, and she smiled, her eyes laughing. They weren�t laughing at him
but rather the whole situation. He took the coffee, reflecting absently
that he would have to get her to say his name more often. It sounded
beautiful on her lips. He imagined a lot of things sounded good on those
lips.

�So,� she said, �I think I would rather like to hear your
reaction first if you don�t mind.�

�I�d make a fool of myself,� Draco
mumbled, sipping the coffee.

�Okay,� she returned. �I�ll go first. You�re
probably wondering how you should react, which is the best thing I could have
hoped for, I think. But I want to be your friend; if you�ll let me, I
mean. I�d like to know you, Draco...funny how
that name comes so easily to me. I rather think I like it more than
Reader, don�t you?�

Draco nodded. �I don�t want
you to be my friend.�

Her face fell, and he quickly amended himself.

�That didn�t come out quite right,� he mumbled. He
suddenly felt extremely foolish and thought it would be better if someone
slipped some poison in his coffee before he completely humiliated
himself. �I mean,� he corrected, �I don�t want you to be just my friend.�

Her face turned serious, and Draco
thought he could see tears dying to be spilt onto her now rosy cheeks. Draco stood, offering her a hand. �Let�s take a
walk,� he suggested.

She nodded, standing and switching her purse from her lap to
her hand. Draco looked at her and held out the
lilies. �These are for you.�

She smiled at him, her rosy cheeks flushing a slightly
darker color. Draco thought it could quite
possibly be the sexiest blush he�d ever seen. When she closed her eyes
and sniffed the flowers carefully, it made his heart beat about twenty times
faster. She smiled a small, thankful smile.

�They�re beautiful, Draco,� she
said quietly.

Draco suddenly felt very sure of
himself. Offering her his arm, he smiled as gallantly as he could and
tried not to breathe too hard as she latched onto him, inching up to him
slightly. Some inner fire warmed him from head to toe, and it made Draco itch all over.

As they walked out of the small shop, Draco
Banished some coins to the table and began walking her to the park. The
air had suddenly become very clear, windy and yet slightly warmer than he
expected. They walked in silence, both pondering what they wanted to say
to one another.

It was only when Draco sat on the
bench, her next to him, her lily-tinted scent filling his nose that he plucked
up the courage to speak. �Ginny,� he said quietly, reveling in the
ability to say her name aloud and not just in his head like he had the last
five minutes.

Her eyes locked with his, her face was solemn, and her eyes
expectant. �Yes,� she whispered.

�What I said back there,� he continued, a soft breeze
distracting him slightly as it blew her crimson hair over her eyes. His
hand itched to touch her hair, gather it behind her ear and hope he caught a
bit of her skin. �What I said back there,� he repeated, �I don�t want you
just as a friend. And...and you know how I am with emotions and showing
my feelings; it�s hard. But Ginny, you make me want to change, and the
only way I want to change is with you. And I hope it doesn�t sound too
forward, and I hope it doesn�t seem too brutish of me, but I would really like
to fall in love with you.�

Her face remained blank, and for a fleeting moment, Draco thought he�d said the wrong thing. And when a
tear, a single, crystalline tear, rolled down her cheek, he became thoroughly
convinced he�d said the wrong thing. Her lips trembled, and Draco regretted every word he said.

�Ginny, I�m so sorry,� he said quickly. �I�m so
sorry. I�ll take it back, all of it. Just don�t cry, please, I�ll
take it back.�

Another tear slid down her cheek, and she whispered in a
broken voice, �You would?�

Her eyes were pleading, her face a puzzle, and Draco didn�t know how to solve it. He had fallen in love
with a hugely complex person. Draco steeled
himself and looked her straight in the eye. He brought his hand to her
cheek, capturing the wisps of ruby hair flying about her face, and tucked it
behind her ear securely, running his fingers through the ends of her hair and
grabbing a light hold on her shoulders. He looked her straight in her bronze-colored
eyes and saw hope. Ravenous butterflies were soaring in his belly, and
they were moving at light speed at what she said next.

�Please, Draco, tell me,� she
whispered, her full lips caressing the words softly.

�No,� he answered. �Not for anything would I ever take
it back.�

Her eyes shone brightly, and Draco
couldn�t help himself. He leaned closer, his nose automatically invaded
by the scent of lilies combined with her own original smell. He could
practically taste her tears. And slowly, slower than Draco
had ever moved in his life, he brought his lips to hers.

White hot contact jarred his senses, and he fought for
control over himself. He�d never felt this, not ever. He doubted if
he ever would again, unless it was with her. Unless it was with his sweet
Ginny. Her lips moved against his in a velvety, horizontal motion, and he
felt her soft hands on his chest. What did it in for him was when her
soft, sweet tongue brushed his lips lightly, questioningly.

Well, if she insisted...

His tongue shot in her mouth, his arms tightening around her
instinctively. She practically liquefied in his arms, a soft murmuring of
content all he could hear over his own thudding heartbeat. She tasted
like nothing he�d ever experienced. She was chill and clear, warm and
inviting. He allowed himself the guilty pleasure of tangling his hands in
her hair and reveling in its full, silky smoothness.

She sighed a light, melodic sigh, and Draco
had to stop. It was getting too hot for him right then. He almost
laughed. Hot in the middle of winter with a fire spirit kissing
him. Of course he was hot. But he was hot in more than one way.

Her eyes were closed when he pulled away, her sweet breath
hit his face caressingly as she exhaled quietly. The air fogged around
her breath, and Draco couldn�t help a brief
smile. He�d kissed a fire spirit. It was hot.

Her eyes opened, her unearthly bronze eyes, and he stopped,
immediately sobered. �I have a confession,� she said in a whisper.
A small smile hit her lips, the kind where only the corner of her mouth turned
up. �I rather hoped I would get kissed today.�

Draco couldn�t help himself.
He pulled her to him, almost too roughly, and kissed her again, the heady
feeling of power flowing through him as she returned the kiss eagerly. He
felt dizzy like he�d never experienced when he pulled away again, looking into
her dazzling gold-streaked eyes.

He wasn�t ever going to let her up. He was never going
to give her up.

�Ginny,� he said softly.

She smiled in response.

The words came hard to him, but he knew they needed to be
said. He knew his time with her was limited; he had to be back by
dinner. That left a few hours. He would ask her later. �What
are you thinking?�

She cocked her head, leaning her head on his shoulder and
shifting a bit in his lap. The action made him slightly on edge, but he
tried to restrain himself. He noticed then how much smaller than him she
actually was. Draco didn�t consider himself a
beast; he was by no means Crabbe or Goyle. He was tall and willowy like his mother,
strong and muscular like his father. She must have been much shorter than
he. His little less than two meters towered over her little more than one
and two thirds. But it made him smile how she fit with his body
perfectly.

�I was thinking about what we are going to do when we get
back to school. No offense, but we can�t exactly be a traditional
couple. I can�t stand Pansy Parkinson, and Goyle
and Crabbe terrify me. And if you sat with me,
I would have to first give my brother a lobotomy.�

Draco nodded. It may be an
easier subject to breech than he originally thought. �Are you suggesting
we keep it a secret?� he asked, nose going to her hair and neck. He smirked
when she sighed and leaned into him.

�Yes,� she sighed. �But I�ll have to tell some
people. Blaise and Colin must know.�

Draco looked at her oddly. �Zabini? The poof?�

Ginny smiled. �That�s Butterfly. Colin Creevey and Dean Thomas are Painters,� she clarified.

�You keep some odd company, love,� he said, eyes laughing
with hers. �Two poofs and an almost poof.
No wonder you have issues.�

Ginny smiled at him, laughing a twinkle of a laugh and
pressing her forehead to his. �Colin�s not a �poof,� as you so
artistically put it. But yes, Dean and Blaise
are gay. Not with each other though, I don�t think.�

�Who�s Stag?� Draco asked
suddenly. He couldn�t help the anxiety that entered his eyes when he
asked it. This �Stag� was the only one he felt threatened by when it came
to Ginny.

�Who�s your �bastard�?� she countered lightly.

�Potter,� Draco snarled, unaware
his grip on Ginny had tightened.

Ginny put her cheek to his and closed her eyes. Draco felt the whisper of her eyelashes against his cheek,
and he calmed a little. �You needn�t worry about him, Draco.
I could never feel for him what I feel for you.�

Draco wanted to ask what exactly
she felt for him but stayed his tongue and inhaled her hair again.

They stayed like that for a long time, trying to make up for
lost time. Ginny closed her eyes and felt, for one of the few times in
her life, calm and completely safe. Her thoughts drifted on how she could
possibly feel safe with a Malfoy. But then she
thought Malfoy and Weasley
didn�t really matter there. It was just Writer and Reader, and she was
happy.

Draco
watched the sun set though Ginny�s hair, watched it play across her crimson
waves. They had been right, the Creevey boy and
Zabini. She was the most beautiful girl he
could ever hope to meet. But that was just icing on the cake compared to
her mind. He wanted her, her soul and mind and body. No one could
take it from him, not even Voldemort.

Mon Petite Garcon, Part I

Narcissa Malfoy
reached as far as she could. She still couldn�t reach it. As strong
as she trained herself, as far as she pushed herself, it was always just out of
her reach. It had been that way a long, long time. She could barely
imagine life without the bond now. Only her inborn, free bird spirit and Draco had kept her fighting. Narcissa
had always been a fighter, ever since she was a young girl. At the
orphanage she had lived at, one was either relied upon, or one relied on other
people. She had broken the mold and become free.

It was in her blood to be free. Her Elemental blood
demanded it, that being the character of Wind. Though she was bound in
body, he could never bind her soul, her spirit. She had found a way
around it when Draco was first born, and she wanted
to sing to his blood. She wanted the Elemental part of her to be strong
in him, but alas, she was too weak. Wind was connected to speed, song,
the moon and stars, freedom, and of course, healing and cleansing. She
just wasn�t a strong enough creature of the Wind, though she wished with all
her heart that she was.

She had managed to save her baby a few times, but �a few�
wasn�t enough. She had needed to protect him against all the awful things
he had done; in some ways, she had failed miserably. He had tried so hard
to corrupt her son. He had done his best to bind her completely to
him. He had made her life a living hell for nearly twenty years.
He, she hated more than anything she had ever hated in her life. He was
the person she so blindly rescued in hopes of changing him. He betrayed
her. He was her husband.

Narcissa hated him with all her
soul and body. One day, she reminded herself, one day she would take her
revenge. Her mother would give her strength to hurt him as he hurt her.

With mother-like care and love, she did her best to fix the
boy that lay before her. He was badly bruised, his chest and back and
buttocks full of welts and scars. His face was bloody, his privates torn
to ribbons. Narcissa felt sorry for them, all
of the boys that came through her house...his house. This wasn�t her
house, she reminded herself. Her house was in the sky and with the stars.

The boy was bleeding, losing his life�s blood faster than
she could heal him. He was one of the fortunate ones as far as Narcissa was concerned. The others � the ones that
survived and had to live � they were the most scarred and destroyed.
Sometimes she could make them forget, use her power for that. But since
he had taken her wand from her, all she had were her weaker powers. Narcissa cursed herself for not becoming stronger when she
could have. She cursed herself for not training when she could have been.

She swallowed and looked with sadness upon the boy.
His eyes were wide with shock; he no longer was responsive. He was going
to die. It was a sad thing she had to do, something she�d only done a few
times before. But he often raped them until they were either so
physically or emotionally scarred they died. Or were as good as
dead. And when those times came, all Narcissa
could do was kill the boys and give their spirits to the wind.

Sighing, she began to tug the air from his lungs, slowly, so
he passed out completely before she cut off his oxygen supply. The boy�s
eyes closed, and he lay limp, no longer shuddering, no longer whimpering.
Narcissa breathed hard, releasing the air she�d held
while taking the boy�s life. It was the only humane thing she could have
done.

She quietly gathered the boy in the white sheets of the bed
and held him in her arms, not able to look upon his terrified face. She
sang the song of passage inborn into her blood and mourned him as if he was her
own. She thought briefly on Draco and dismissed
him. Later she would talk to him, and everything would be all right.

�Why do you insist on doing that?� The voice came from
him. She recognized it anywhere. Cold and devilish, it hollowed the
room like a knife cutting through soft skin.

Narcissa allowed herself a minute
of composure before putting the boy gently down and standing to face
her...her...husband. He was just as she had seen him all those years
ago. Except then there was a bit more humanity in his eyes.
Now...now there was nothing.

�Why?� she said softly. �Because someone must.
You won�t. You only rape them. You won�t ever finish the job when
it gets to be too much. You�re not man enough.�

Her French accent was stronger out of scorn. Through
lessons she was able to quell it, but he liked it, so it stayed.

He snorted, downing a glass of brandy before throwing the
glass onto the fire and glancing warningly in her direction. �Don�t press
your luck. I hold your life in the palm of my hand; don�t ever forget
that, Narcissa-love.�

He moved towards her, sauntering like a cat in heat and
running a chill hand up her arm. She shuddered and moved away, standing
on the other side of the dead boy in her bedroom.

�There was a time when you warmed to my touch, my little
wind spirit,� he cooed dangerously.

�There was also a time when I pitied you!� she spat.
Then gesticulating to the dead boy, �There was also a time when this didn�t
happen in my home! There was also a time when I was free! But tell
me, Lucius,� she snarled with hate, �Hw can I warm to
a person so cold and disgusting? How can I make love to a person who
can�t feel that emotion or anything but need and greed?�

�Narcissa,� he warned, his cooing
voice gone. �Don�t say things you will regret.�

She turned her head from him, looking out the window.
�Come over here,� she said lightly. �Come, step over the little boy you
raped. The little boy who looks so much like our little boy.� Do that, oh great Lucius, and I will know if you are man enough.�

He looked at her, his eyes flashing maliciously and murderously.
�I take orders from no one, especially not a weakling such as yourself.�

Then he stormed out of the room. Narcissa
stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what she had done to make him go
away. She fell to the ground, harsh tears pricking in her eyes. A
shaking hand brought out her jewel, her one memory, her one gift from the one
person she had imagined cared, and she kissed it. Her eyes fell upon the
boy, and she realized why he had left.

The boy who looked so much like her son had his eyes
open. His eyes were open, and they were looking right where Lucius had been standing the moment before.

Narcissa allowed herself a small
smile. So the bastard had some fear left in him after all.

Danielle Steale Does Something Right�

It was clearly night when Draco
finally shifted and put Ginny back down, stretching as he stood and holding his
hand out to her. She took it gingerly, smiling up at him. Her night
had been like a cheesy romance novel. But in a good way. Her whole
body reverberated from touching him. And when she looked up, all she
could think of was him. He made her blood sing; he made her soul
shiver...he made her shiver too.

And when he touched at her...she had to bite her lip to keep
from touching that incredibly sinuous body of his. She�d seen him before,
remarked lightly (to herself) that he was pretty fit then moved on. No Weasley in their right mind approached him...people didn�t
approach him much at all. But when he looked at her with those milky, silver
eyes, she wanted to drown in them and hope he came along for the ride.

She was falling, falling faster than she ever had in her
life. But then, she thought, she�d known him before she�d seen him,
really seen him. She�d dreamt about him before she�d known him. And
now, now that she knew him, had seen him, all the emotions riding the current
of her soul took form and foamed on the shore of her heart. She was in
love. How could she not be in love with Reader, how could she not be in
love with Draco? The real Draco,
the Draco she saw, not the Draco
he showed to the world.

It made her feel gifted that he would look at her like that,
show her what he had, kiss her like he did. More than anything, she
wanted to kiss those thin lips of his and hear his breath quicken when she
rested her hand on his chest. More than anything, she wanted him to
whisper the words to her. �I love you, Ginny.�

She heard it somehow, somewhere between the kisses and the
meeting of souls. He had whispered it, very lightly. He hadn�t used
his words to say it; he�d used his hands, his lips, and yes, his soul.
She felt the brief meeting of Wind to Wind, the primal joining of the Elements,
testing the water.

She sighed as Draco kissed her
again, his aristocratic hands skimming her arm under her coat. It was
tender, much like their first kiss, loving and trusting. Ginny leaned her
head against his chest when he pulled away.

�I have something for you,� he said in his soft voice.
The voice charged electricity right up her spine, the hairs on her back and
arms pricking to the deep sensation of his voice.

�What�s that?� she whispered back, looking up at him through
her eyelashes.

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes dancing with
untold thoughts, maybe desires. Desires Ginny hoped were brewing in those
milky, Mercurian eyes. A finger went to her
chin, tilting it up and brushing sensually on her bottom lip. �A diary,�
he replied in his reverberating mumble. �For the one I ruined.�

�The one you ruined?� Ginny asked, confused.

�For the one I put all the darkness in,� he clarified.
He bent down and took a bag off the bench. A brown bound, plain diary was
pulled from the bag, �Writer� written in golden scrawl on the inside
cover. �For the one my darkness touched.�

�That�s what you think?� she asked, cocking her head to the
side and slowly opening and closing her eyes. �That�s not what I
think. That book is the most beautiful thing I own, Draco.
It may be dark, but it isn�t all your fault. I put that in there, too; it
was our book.�

He didn�t say anything; rather, he just pushed the new diary
into her hands. Ginny took it, hoping he understood what she had
said. �We have to go,� she said reluctantly. She bit her lip again,
looking up though her thick eyelashes. �When can I see you next?�

Draco seemed to think for a while,
his eyes growing distant. �You usually escape for a few hours to go to
the tower, right? Well, instead of us going on different days, let�s go
on the same. I don�t have practice on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and
Sundays. Meet me there after dinner. But come through your room.�

Ginny nodded. She smiled, really it was a smirk, and
turned to him with her evil grin. �No wonder Slytherin
hasn�t won the Cup in four years. They play before practice and practice
before studying.�

Draco snorted. �I choose to
take that personally.�

This made Ginny smile. �Good. Now I can make it
all better.�

She stood on her toes, her fingers grabbing a light hold on
the hair at the back of his head and pulling him into a passionate kiss, her
body warming up to his, before pulling back and smiling evilly.

Draco said something in French
Ginny didn�t understand. She looked at him questioningly, and he feigned
a smile. �I said I envy the man that taught you how to kiss. Among
other things.�

Ginny smiled and shrugged, sighing as she held her diary to
her chest and looked up at him again. �I told Harry I�d be back by
sundown. He�ll call the Magical Law Enforcement Squad if I don�t get back
soon.�

Draco frowned.

�I persuaded him to let me use his...never mind.�
Ginny turned quickly, composing herself before turning back to Draco, becoming sheepish as he glared at her lightly.

�He has an Invisibility Cloak, doesn�t he?�

Ginny nodded in a defeated manner.

�Damn him! I knew that�s how he was doing it,� Draco growled. Then he smirked. �But then he
doesn�t get to kiss you; I do. Right?�

Ginny rolled her eyes. �Like I�d want to,� she said
tiredly.

Draco snorted. He looked
rather superior when he tossed his hair like that and his top lip pulled back
lightly. Somehow, that expression which she had made fun of with the rest
of the Gryffindors seemed different in this
light. Maybe it just seemed like a different him.

�Where did you come from?� he asked her as they began to
walk back into Diagon Alley.

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

�I mean what fireplace,� he said in an exasperated
tone. �You did come by Floo, right?�

�Yeah,� Ginny replied. �I came from Emerson�s, but
they�re closed now. I�ll end up using the Ministry Floo,
pretending to visit my father. You can go anywhere in those things.�

Draco�s eye twitched. �Let�s
use my personal Floo in Gringotts.
It�ll be safer.�

�You have a personal Floo
fireplace at Gringotts,� Ginny said lightly.

Draco looked at her through the
corner of his eye. �I have a personal everything. Lucius doesn�t know about this one, but the other two he
does. Actually, one he knows about because he gave it to me, the other he
knows because he found out. But I know he knows about it, and he knows I
know about it, and neither of us says anything. I can�t risk going with
you in the secret one; he might have tracers on it. Unlikely, but
definitely possible. He�ll expect me through the other two. I�ll go
through the one he�s supposed to know about, so he�ll think I�m up to no good;
it�ll be safer that way.�

Ginny�s eyes were wide open, her head shaking
slightly. �I would suck at being a Slytherin.
That�s involved.�

Draco shrugged. �All in a
day�s work...�

They continued in silence until they reached his secret Floo. The room of fireplaces was dark; most of the
hearths still for the night. Ginny looked at Draco
as he lit the fire, shadows making him look slightly less approachable as he
turned to her. But when he touched her...

Ginny melted into his lips again, straining to keep
conscious as his tongue probed hers, his hands creeping into her hair again,
making her think the dirtiest of thoughts. Ginny reflected that dirty
thoughts like that did not bother her at all. In fact, if Draco moved his hand a little up...or down really...

But he pulled away, a fire lighting his eyes that wasn�t in
the room. Ginny bit her lip, wondering with all her mind what he was
thinking.

�Ginny ��

�Draco ��

They both paused; a small smile played on Draco�s face.

�You go first,� she said, smiling tenderly.

Draco nodded. �I want to
tell you something, Ginny,� he said seriously. �And I want you to
understand. No matter how I feel for you, no matter what regard I hold
you in, in my heart, on the outside I must be cold as ice. I must be cold
to protect you, and to protect me, from Lucius and
from the other Slytherins. So I may say things
and do things, and yes, they might hurt. But I will never mean them, not
ever.�

Ginny nodded, completely understanding what he said.
It was to protect her, always. �I have to go,� she said quietly.

�Didn�t you have some ��

�No,� she interrupted. �I mean,� she looked down, �it
was nothing.�

She took a handful of Floo, tossed
it in the fireplace and was gone.

She leaned heavily on the mantle when she got to her room,
flinging off her coat and sighing. She pulled Harry�s cloak out of her
coat and placed it in a box, labeling it to Harry.

Sitting on her bed, she opened the diary and looked at the
blank pages. It seemed impossible to write in it. It had no meaning
for her if Reader wouldn�t be there to answer. If Draco
wasn�t there to answer her.

She closed the book and sighed.

Turning off the light and falling asleep, Ginny dreamt very
odd dreams.

Evil-Laden

�M-master,� the short man whimpered.

�Yes, Wormtail,� the man who stank
of death replied. He was calm, collected in his dark, evil way. His
hands were steepled in front of him, seemingly
contemplating his next evil. He looked like a malicious double of his
good-streaked counterpart.

�I�ve seen her, Master,� the short man said. �She is...she
is...is...�

�Yes,� he said calmly, but betraying danger. �Tell me
what she looks like, Wormtail, tell me of her power.�

The servant trembled, his eyes flashing, and he looked as
though he would pass out.

�Tell me,� the dark man commanded.

�She is beautiful, Master! She is terrible and
beautiful! She scares me; she has such power and beauty, a terrible
beauty. Her hair is like blood, and her eyes are bronze, terrible and
hard, but soft and caressing. Her skin is the finest porcelain, and she
has a soul of fire, burning brightly and flaring up with her wind. Such
terrible, beautiful power!�

He collapsed on the ground as though the mere memory was
attacking him. He whimpered more, edging to the dark man�s feet and
rubbing his tearing eyes against his boots.

But the dark man kicked at him and sent him reeling to the
ground, making him shake uncontrollably.

�She did something to me, Master,� Wormtail
simpered. �She � she � she touched
me. Her � her spirit. It broke me...�

He collapsed again into uncontrollable shudders, hugging his
legs to his chest and weeping pitifully.

The dark man smiled a dark smile that reached his
serpent-like eyes and nose. A soft chuckle started in the back of his
throat and continued into booming, malicious laughter, mad laughter that caused
the dark night to seem that much more sinister.

And between evil-laden laughter, he said in dark joy, �My
queen has come, and her spirit will be mine! Come to me, firefly, come
and bow before me! Bring your legions; I will still have you!�

The laughter continued into the night, waking two people
nearly two hundred miles away.

When It All Comes Together, Part I

Ginny sat upright in her bed, nearly falling to the
ground. Immediately she went into the bathroom and retched up all the
food she�d eaten in the last few days, her eyes blurry and her hands shaking.

Her.

He was looking for her again.

And he would find her.

When It All Comes Together, Part II

Palms sweating and scar burning with the power of nine
Hells, Harry woke from a terribly realistic dream, his hands immediately
clutching his scar. Voldemort again, haunting
his dream, manipulating their link to send him awful visions, visions of death
and decay, of evil and pain.

He rose, swallowing the bile in his throat with a glass of
cold water. He needed to take a shower, do anything to get his mind off
the dreams. They were getting to be too much, and all the Dreamless Sleep
Draught in the world couldn�t help him now. He was already too addicted.

Then it hit him. The girl, the girl Voldemort had been talking about, the girl with the
blood-red hair, hard copper eyes, and porcelain skin, the girl he wanted to
sire his heir, was Ginny.

His face paled as he looked in the mirror. He took his
invisibility cloak out of the box Ginny had sent it in and tried to make
himself look as presentable as possible. He needed to talk to Dumbledore.

�Danielle Steale � a famous
romance novelist
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