Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

Ginny looked wildly at Draco, then grabbed his arm and dragged him over to her closet. She yanked the door open and pushed him inside. Standing on top of a pile of her shoes, he looked at her with doleful eyes. "This is really uncomfortable," he whined.

"You weren't complaining when you dragged me under the sofa."

"That was different. I had you for company." He gave her a sunny smile. "It's not the same as being shut in a closet alone."

"Time for you to learn to entertain yourself," said Ginny, about to shut the door.

His sunny smile turned devilish. "My mother always said that would make me go blind," he said.

"Argh," replied Ginny, and slammed the closet shut.

She turned quickly, pointed her wand at her bedroom door, and said "Alohomora!"

The door burst open and Ron half-fell into the room. He recovered his footing quickly, straightened up, and glared at her. "What is your problem, Gin? Didn't you hear me calling you all over the house for the past half hour?"

"No," Ginny lied. "I was sleeping."

"I heard you yelling."

"I was having a bad dream."

This piece of information had the opposite effect that Ginny had intended, as Ron immediately stepped farther into the room, looking concerned. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to sit with you?"

"I'm fine," said Ginny irritably. "I'm not twelve any more, Ron."

"I know that. But you're really sensitive to Dark magic, and we've been around a lot of it lately. Don't tell me it hasn't upset you."

Ginny sighed, torn between the urge to shove Ron out of the room and the urge to sniffle and have him pat her head. Of all her brothers, Ron was her favorite. Fred and George made her laugh more, but Ron had an earnest sweetness that was very restful to be around.

"And look," added Ron, toeing the ground a bit, "I'm sorry about all the stuff I said about Malfoy at breakfast."

Ginny gaped at him in horror. "Ron, it's okay, I-"

"No," he said, holding up a hand. "Let me finish. I don't like Malfoy, I'm never going to like him, I still think he's a low-life, double-crossing sleazeball with all the charm of a week-old head of lettuce.

But if you really like him all that much, I'll uh…I'll make an effort to find something worthwhile about him. And I won't downgrade him in front of Mum. Okay?"

"Ron, I–I mean, look, go ahead and downgrade him, really, it's all right, I don't mind."

Ron shook his head. "Yeah, whatever, Gin. You know, it sort of takes the fun out of mocking him when you're sitting there with drool all down your front."

Ginny emitted a small scream of horrified outrage. "Drool?"

"Look, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Well, okay, it is, because it's Malfoy and it's gross, but you know, he's really, really lucky that you even like him and — "

Goggling in horror, Ginny cut her brother off in the midst of this extremely well-meant, if somewhat poorly worded speech, by spluttering: "Ron! Shut up!"

He stared at her. "Shut up?" he echoed. "Why?"

"Because I never said anything about Draco — I never said anything about anything. Ever! I don't know what you're talking about! I've got a headache now and I think you should go!"

And with that, Ginny pushed her bewildered brother out into the hallway, slammed the door behind him, and leaned against it, covering her face with her hands. Her hope that maybe Draco hadn't heard her exchange with Ron was shattered as he stepped out of the closet and looked at her solemnly. "Drool, eh?" he said, with a mildly inquiring look.

"Oh, be quiet," said Ginny wearily, and to her surprise, he fell silent, hands in his pockets, looking at her from under his hair, which had gotten awfully long lately and which she kept having the urge to push back out of his eyes — "I think you'd better go," she heard herself say.

Looking startled, Draco took his hands out of his pockets. "Yeah, okay, if you want me to," he said, a little stiffly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that being utterly humiliated tends to put a damper on my mood."

"Ginny," he said, and he saw a flash of sympathy in his silver-black eyes, "Look-"

"Don't," she said. "Just…come here for a minute."

He crossed the room to her and stood in front of her, looking inquiring. She looked up into his face, wondering how she could feel so drawn to someone she didn't trust at all, and then again, wondering why she didn't trust him. Maybe it was because she was drawn to him, or even because she found him attractive; after all, the best-looking boy she had ever known had been Tom Riddle.

Maybe she just didn't trust good-looking men. But she knew that wasn't it either; it was the coldness that surrounded him, an icy chill that she felt all the way down to her bones. She reached up, hardly thinking about what she was doing, and put her hand on his face, reaching into her pocket with her other hand and drawing out her wand as she did so.

His skin was so cold it burned her palm. He didn't move as she raised the wand and touched the tip lightly to his skin, "Asclepio," she said, and the bruising around his eye vanished.

She lowered her wand. "Is that better?"

Draco looked unusually subdued. "Yeah. Thank you."

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Draco," she said, finally saying what she'd been wanting to say all evening. "I don't know what it is that's in you, but there's something and it's something evil and dark. It's like poison in your blood. You have to go to Sirius or to someone and you have to get help or-"

He cut her off. "Or I'll die. Yeah. I know."

"Go home," she said. "Please don't try to do this by yourself."

"I can't."

"Please," she said. "For me."

He looked astonished, as if this request had shocked him, and fast on the heels of his astonishment came a look of regret. "Ginny — " he reached out and took her by the upper arms. His hands were so cold it was like having two frozen metal bracelets clasped around her skin. "I'm sorry," he said, "I really am sorry," and suddenly the tension between them altered in a way she couldn't name; she saw his half-startled expression as she lifted up her face to his, saw his eyes close as he lowered his mouth to hers — she felt his hair brush her cheek, and then his cold mouth on her own — his lips were like ice at first, rapidly warming to the temperature of her own blood -

No. She pushed him away with such force that he actually made a little noise of surprise, a sort of cross between a gasp and an "oooph." He looked at her in astonishment.

She felt as if she couldn't catch her breath, but tried to speak normally. "Are you going to go home?"

"Ginny-" He sighed. "You know I'm not."

"Then you don't get to kiss me," she said, and crossed her arms over her chest. "It isn't fair. And don't expect me to be grateful, either.

I'm not. Maybe I like you, but that doesn't make me stupid."

Draco just looked at her. Finally, he said, very coldly, 'Yes, it does."

He hunched his shoulders inside his jacket as if he were suddenly cold. "And it makes me even stupider. And stupid for coming here."

"Draco-"

"Just forget it," he said, and crossed the room to the window. He leaned over the sill, reaching out a hand, and she heard him call:

"Accio Firebolt!"

A moment later, his broomstick was in his hand. Lifting it, he crawled out onto the sill, swung his legs over it, and without a further word to Ginny, disappeared into the darkness.

Hermione crossed the library to where Harry stood at the window, looking out. It was sunset now, the sun going down in a fiery ball against a sky the shade of blood and amber. In the rosy-bronze light, Harry looked grave and thoughtful, the shadows below his eyes darkened to the color of bruises.