Who?

A/N: After re-reading my story again, I found some continuity errors,
for one, Draco has said Ginny’s name several times





 

She tried not to recall their
abrupt ending in the room that turned out to be above The Three Broomsticks.
She tried to forget that she’d fallen to her knees sobbing, ruing her slip of
the tongue. But she couldn’t help remembering. She dreamt of him almost
nightly, hoping that maybe, just once, he would stay. He always left.

After he’d disappeared she’d cried
herself out. When she finally had the strength to stand, she tried to right her
clothes and her hair. She searched frantically for her panties, but they were
nowhere to be found. She disapparated outside, the cool air
rushing up her skirt and worrying her passion-swelled center. As she
walked she felt the aftershocks of pleasure and couldn’t suppress her dark
reaction.

He’d not spoken to her since, never
tormented her or pushed her up against walls in unused corridors. He never so
much looked her way. She found herself desperately seeking some sort of
acknowledgement that she existed.

Her studies began to falter
somewhat, and her friends seemed to be worried about her. She was continually
pale and drawn, and not even Ron could ferret out the reason. She blamed her
increasingly difficult course load for her lack of sparkle. Everyone was mostly
forced to leave her alone. And that was what she preferred.

I’m
being ridiculously girly about this. I was foolish to think that I could ever
reach his heart when it’s so plainly made of stone. I should be happy that he’s
simply let me alone. All I did was give him a show. And something to smirk about.

And then she spent the rest of the
time wondering why she wanted to reach his heart.

 

The Autumn Feast came and Ginny
hadn’t the strength to go to the Great Hall for the lavish dinner. She decided
she’d get some food from the house-elves later. She holed up in her room and
did her homework. She had finally made the decisio foo forget Malfoy. There was
nothing there for her. So why let her studies suffer? She felt a surge of power
and a smile for the first time in weeks.

Hours later, when everyone was in
bed, Ginny snuck out of the portrait hole and headed down the corridor towards
the vast kitchens. She turned the corner and collided directly with Malfoy’s
chest.

 

He’d removed his robes and had them
slung over his arm. His white shirt was half-unbuttoned, his silver and green
Slytherin tie loosened. His black pants were tucked into his calf-length boots.
Ginny hurriedly backed up, rubbing her squashed nose. Draco allowed himself a
smoky smile.

“Well, Weasley, what are you doing
out of bed so late?” he drawled, taking in her disheveled appearance. She
hesitated and he narrowed his eyes.

“I, er, I
was going to the kitchen. I didn’t go to the Autumn Feast dinner. I’m
famished,” she said hurriedly, the words tripping off her tongue.

“Yes, I noticed your absence. Any particular
reason?” he probed. Her eyes danced, hoping to alight on anything but his
piercing eyes.

 

He watched her eyes widen in
surprise when her gaze rested on bre breast pocket. A small square of red satin
was folded there, handkerchief-style. Her mouth dropped and he enjoyed her
dismay immensely. He had to hold back a laugh.

“Well?” he prompted.

“I didn’t want to!” she whispered
hoarsely. He debated making her repeat it directly to his face, staring into
his eyes. He decided against it. Instead he lifted his wand and tipped her chin
up.

He saw the instant of terror that
flashed across her chocolate eyes. He rolled his.

“I’m not going to charm you, for
Merlin’s sake. Get to the kitchens and back in five minutes, or I’ll personally put you to bed.”