The first Monday in February arrived and Ginny trekked down to the Great Hall for breakfast with Harry and Hermione. Loading her plate with potatoes, sausages, and fried eggs, she watched as Hermione served herself some porridge, while Harry took rashers and toast. They made amicable conversations amongst themselves, and were very surprised when the headmaster got up from his throne and rounded the staff table, and stood on the edge of the dais to seemingly make an announcement.

"Good February morning to you all," said the man with a kind smile. "I would like to take this opportunity to inform you that, on the fourteenth, Hogwarts will celebrate Valentine's Day in the most romantic way possible. Fifth-years and above will have the opportunity to attend the Valentine's Day dance."

There were whispers of excitement and disappointment throughout the Great Hall.

"Of course," the headmaster continued, "if you are not a fifth-year, you may only attend if a fifth-year or above asks you. Further," he went on, "third-and-fourth-years will have a special Hogsmeade day for themselves, while first-and-second-years may either join a chess tournament, hosted by Madam Pince in the library, or dueling practice in the courtyard, overseen by Professor Flitwick. We have booked Spellbound for the occasion," the headmaster said proudly, amid more excitement from the students, "and curfew that evening for fifth-years and above is midnight. I should also inform you that Madam Malkin's and Gladrag's Wizardwear are now accepting appointments for dress robes and such, and we all hope you have a wonderful evening on the second Saturday of this month."

"I suppose it could be a fun evening," Hermione said softly, once the headmaster had returned to his seat.

"Hermione, want to go as friends?" Harry said quickly.

Hermione smiled at Harry and nodded. "Of course I'll go with you," she assured him.

Ginny smiled at the arrangement and looked around; Neville had gotten up to go to the Ravenclaw table, asking Luna, who delightedly accepted, while Ron asked Lavender before snogging her, and she accepted as well. Ginny felt a tap on her shoulder then, and, turning, saw Dean standing behind her.

"Hello, Dean," she said levelly.

"Ginny, I was hoping you'd go to the Valentine's Day ball with me," he said in a rush, turning red to his ears.

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, and suddenly heard a crashing from the other side of the Great Hall, and noticed that Draco had shattered one of the glasses on the Slytherin table, before stomping out of there, Pansy looking dismayed as she ran after him. Looking up and down the table itself, Blaise Zabini appeared to be asking Daphne Greengrass, who accepted his kind invitation, and she sighed, turning around to face Dean.

"Yes, I'll go with you," she told him.

Dean smiled, bending down to kiss her cheek. "Great," he said, and turned on his heel to go back and sit with Seamus.

"Ginny, want to go to Madam Malkin's with me on Saturday?" Hermione asked. "I can Apparate us there from Hogsmeade."

Ginny turned back from Hermione, relieved for the distraction. "Love to," she assured her, and proceeded to attempt to pick at her breakfast, wondering why Draco had acted so rash just a few moments ago.

~*~

Shopping in Diagon Alley the next Saturday with Hermione was a more than worthy distraction from the impending evening Ginny would be spending with Dean. Hermione found an attractive deep purple mermaid-cut gown, which hugged her figure and fell in wave, due to the multi-layered skirt, very similar to her Yule Ball gown. Ginny, meanwhile, found a traditional pale pink ballgown, with long, slashed sleeves, which pooled onto the floor, and had a very generous sweetheart neckline. Each dress came with a pair of matching slipper heels, and both girls were becoming more and more excited to show off their looks.

The following day was Sunday and Ginny spent the morning and early part of the afternoon working on her weekend assignments. After lunch—a simple soup and sandwich affair—she went out with Dean onto the grounds. There was still a fair amount of frost on the grass, but it had stopped snowing some days ago.

"Are you looking forward to next Saturday?" Dean asked.

Ginny sighed, clenching and knotting her fingers together. "I would be, if there wasn't this ominous shadow between us," she said softly.

Dean nodded. "I know what you mean."

"We were happy, once, weren't we?" Ginny asked him, her question catching him off-guard. "I think we were happy..."

Dean appeared to want to take Ginny's hand, but held himself back from doing so. "I like to think we were," he admitted.

Ginny shut her eyes for a moment as they passed the stone garden, and she remembered the heat and the passion behind her duel with Draco. Neither of those emotions came up whenever she was with Dean, or thought of Dean... "It's not supposed to be this way, is it?" she asked him, and turned to face him as they walked.

Dean shook his head, not looking at her. "I don't think it is, no."

"What are we doing wrong, then?" she asked. "We've admitted to being happy, in the past. What changed between then and now?"

"Maybe we wanted different things," Dean told her. "I mean, it's not impossible. We're growing up, deciding what we want for a future, and our ideals from the time we were children, to now, are going to change..."

Ginny turned and looked at Dean, eyes wide. "Where did that come from?"

"My mum's a psychotherapist," Dean explained.

Ginny shook her head at her idiocy. "Have you told em that before?" she asked.

"I may have done," Dean said with a shrug. "But, and I think you can agree with me here, we say something that sets the other off, and then we don't get anywhere."

Ginny swallowed, knowing entirely well what Dean was talking about. "I guess it was just easier to stay together, unknowing about what the outcome would be."

"And what do you think the outcome will be?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Ginny said. "I'm no Trelawney, Dean."

Dean chuckled at that. "That's one of the reasons why I started liking you," he told her. "While you are spontaneous, you do think about things first, and you've never pretended to be something you're not."

"Thank you," Ginny said with a small smile. "I liked you because you were kind to me, and didn't treat me like Ron's little sister..."

"That would've been a bit odd, considering I wanted to make you my girlfriend," Dean said. "I mean, it wouldn't have been a very good starting point."

"No, it wouldn't have," Ginny agreed. "I guess at this point we just go on, and hopefully we won't keep fighting."

"How long do we give it, though?" Dean asked.

Ginny sighed. "If one or both of us decidedly wants to call it quits, we'll let it happen."

Ginny was relieved when Dean agreed with those terms, and they finished walking around the grounds until they arrived back at the entrance of the school. They said goodbye, as Dean had to study for Transfiguration with Seamus, and Ginny, who had all her weekend assignments finished, decided to head down to the kitchens. She went to the correct corridor and tickled the pair, which giggled, and the door opened for her and she stepped inside.

"Mistress Weasley!" Dobby cried, dashing forward and throwing his arms around Ginny's legs, as he so often did with Harry.

"Hello, Dobby," Ginny responded, stroking his head.

"What can Dobby be doing for Mistress Ginny?" the house-elf asked, pulling back and bouncing from foot to foot.

"I would like some hot chocolate, please," she replied.

"Dobby knows how Mistress Weasley likes it!" he said, nodding his head so vigorously that his ears flapped adorably. "If Mistress Weasley will sit down, Dobby will fetch it for her!"

Ginny smiled widely. "Thank you, Dobby," she replied, and went to one of the long tables the kitchen had, and sat down. She pulled off her coat and scarf, leaving her there in a jumper and trousers, and looked up when the kitchen door came open, and Draco himself stood there, looking even more unsure when he saw Ginny. "You can join me, if you like," she told him, a small smile on her lips.

Draco nodded, and slipped onto a seat opposite her. "Thanks."

Ginny nodded back at him. "Sure." She placed her hands in her lap as Dobby came by with two large mugs of hot chocolate, and a platter of sugar biscuits. "Thank you, Dobby," she said, and inhaled the scent of hot chocolate—whipped cream and marshmallows intact, just the way she liked it.

"Thank you," Draco intoned softly as Dobby placed the platter and the mugs down upon the surface of the table.

Dobby's eyes widened at the words from the son of his former master. "You is welcome, young Master Malfoy," he replied, before flitting off to the opposite end of the kitchen to continue with his work.

Draco sighed, staring into the depths of his hot drink. "Merlin, I was a rats arse when it came to treatment of him when he was under our roof..."

"You were thirteen when he was freed," Ginny said softly, and Draco looked up at her. "You can't be perfect when you're subjected to... Well, your way of living."

Draco swallowed, clearly nervous. "You mentioned that Severus told you about my upbringing and subsequent way of life."

Ginny nodded at him. "He did," she confirmed. "He told me that they threatened to disown you if you refused to...conform."

"I did," he said softly, and squeezed his arm.

Ginny sighed, refusing to permit her eyes to fill with tears. "Was the alternative really so horrible to imagine?" she asked.

"If I didn't want to get whipped by Aunt Bellatrix, yes," he confirmed.

Ginny choked as she attempted to drink her hot chocolate. "What?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice down.

Draco dragged a hand through his blond hair. "The House of Black is a very powerful Pureblood family," he began, and Ginny set down her hot chocolate, staring at him with her eyes wide. "As such, they teach you the ancient art of manners from the time you are a child. You're taught to not question authority, to always agree with the way of life you've been blessed with, and, if you cannot or will not do so, punishments are administered."

"You're beaten?" she whispered, her heart clutching in dismay.

"Grandmama Druella began with it, as Aunt Bellatrix was locked away in Azkaban for most of my life," Draco explained. "She died when I was fourteen, just a year before the mass breakout of Azkaban. Witches and wizards, due to their extended lifetimes, have the ability to still do impressive magic in their old age, if their cores are strong enough."

"And what about your paternal grandmother?" Ginny asked. "Was she no better?"

"Grandmother Prosperine never raised a hand to me, although she was quick to cut you down with a tongue-lashing if you got out of line," Draco informed her. "Neither of the people in either set of grandparents was particularly loving towards me."

"And your grandfathers, Abraxas Malfoy and Cygnus Black?" Ginny wanted to know.

"Grandpapa Cygnus would string you up with ropes and leave you suspended for hours in one place—never by the neck, of course—as a method of medieval, malevolent torture," Draco said, lowering his eyes back onto the table. "As for Grandfather Abraxas, his favorite thing was to put Stinging Hexes onto the most sensitive parts of your body."

Ginny stared openly at Draco, wondering how he could possibly go through these atrocities and still be standing. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, reaching out and taking his hand.

Draco tensed, almost as if he was afraid that Ginny would hurt him, but relaxed, as if he had to remind himself where he was and who he was with. "It is of no consequence," he murmured. "I have made my choice and my bed. Now, I have to face the consequences and lie in it."

"What if there as someone willing to help you?" Ginny asked, not yet letting go of his hand. "I know, in my heart, that someone must be there..."

Draco shook his head, and reluctantly pulled his hand out from underneath Ginny's. "I have made my vow," he whispered. "Untold consequences await me if I break it."

"Let me help you," she begged, and Draco stared at her, shocked. "Please, Draco, let me help you. I want to."

Draco shook his head at her. "You shouldn't help me, Ginny," he said softly. "You're too pure, too good, to get mixed up with helping me."

"I don't care, I don't care," Ginny said, her voice trembling then. "I know I can help you. Why can't you just let me?"

"Because neither Dean or Pansy would like it."

"Sod the both of them," Ginny said quickly. "You need me. I know you need me."

"I don't need anyone," Draco replied, and got to his feet just as Dobby rushed over. "Thank you for everything, Dobby. The hot chocolate and biscuits were delicious. I apologize for my harsh treatment of you in the past. I hope that, one day, you can forgive me." He turned to look at Ginny for a moment and sighed. "Please excuse me, Miss Weasley," he said.

Ginny was knocked back by the harsh formality of his tone, and got to her feet to prevent him from going, but he walked out of the kitchen without looking back. She slowly sank down onto her seat, and rested her head in her hands.

"Mistress Weasley is contemplative," Dobby said softly.

Ginny sighed. "I suppose you could say that, Dobby."

"Mistress Ginny is questioning everything she thought she knew to be true, and now finds herself to be an island unto herself," the house-elf mused, before walking away from her.

Ginny lowered her eyes, slumping into her seat. She was indeed questioning everything, especially now, and, more than anything, wanted to help Draco Malfoy, a boy who was sworn to be her enemy from the beginning. Now, however, she wasn't sure what the term 'enemy' meant anymore and, now that she had so much more information, something told her that it definitely didn't apply to Draco.

~*~

The following day found Ginny in Hermione's Head Girl rooms, and she was doing her best to write a rough outline of her Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. However, she kept getting distracted by her conversation with Draco the day before—which she had told Harry and Hermione about immediately. Now, Harry was closeted with Severus, trying to figure out what to do about it, but Ginny was more than a little preoccupied. She had cried herself to sleep the night before, and had suffered from nightmares the entire night, all about Draco's family beating him and torturing him, and she couldn't do anything to save him.

"Earth to Ginny!"

Ginny dropped her quill, her parchment falling from her lap. "Sorry, sorry," she said, cleaning up a pesky ink stain, and made to organize her pieces of parchment. She set her Defense textbook to rights and sighed, leaning back on the couch in Hermione's sitting area. "I just have a lot on my mind; it won't happen again."

Hermione pursed her lips before gathering Ginny's things and putting them aside. "I think that you need a distraction. What's bothering you?"

Ginny blinked. "You're not going to make me get back to work?"

Hermione gave her a small smile. "I know that I wouldn't get anything halfway decent done if I was that distracted," she told her gently, and reached across the space between them and took her by the hand. "What's troubling you?"

"I..." Ginny hesitated for a moment before Crookshanks came sauntering into the room, saw that Ginny's lap was available, and hopped into it. "I think I'm going mad."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the bluntness of the response. "Why do you say that?"

"I'm questioning everything I thought to be true," she said quietly.

"That's entirely normal for our age, Ginny."

"Not like this," Ginny said quickly. "Not like what I'm doing. I... I had nightmares last night about what Draco told me, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get to him."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You wanted to save him."

Ginny nodded; it was not a question. "I did... I do. I want to save him. I don't care what he's done in the past; no one deserves to be treated that way by their family."

Hermione gave a slow nod. "You're right; even Draco doesn't deserve that." She shuddered. "I can't imagine being on the receiving end of Bellatrix Lestrange."

"I think many people would agree with you," Ginny said wholeheartedly. "The thought of Bellatrix Lestrange actually hurting her own nephew, though..."

Hermione stared at Ginny askance. "You seemed to care before, Ginny, but now it sounds like it's become a bit personal."

"A bit?" Ginny whispered, slowly digging her fingers into Crookshanks' fur, and the feline moaned appreciatively. "The thought of anyone actually putting their hands on Draco—hurting him, stringing him up for their own, sick pleasure—!"

"I think it has more to do with him not abiding by the rules, which have been the foundation for their way of life, for centuries..."

"Sod their rules!" Ginny cried, and Crookshanks, waking up from his dozing state, jumped from her lap and rushed from the room, and Ginny took the opportunity to jump to her feet. "The fact that Draco has to live like a virtual prisoner—friends picked out for him, a bloody wife selected from the Pureblood elite—is downright devastating!"

Hermione blinked. "What's this all about?"

"Pansy... She bloody asked him to the Valentine's Day ball," Ginny said, pacing back and forth through the sitting room.

"Well, didn't you tell me that they're betrothed, like Neville and Luna?"

"At least Neville and Luna love one another!" Ginny shot back. "Draco... He's just going through the motions with Pansy. He doesn't want her, I know it!"

Hermione got to her feet and slowly approached Ginny, waiting for her to turn around again before she gently took her by the arms. "And who does Draco want, Ginny?"

"I know he wants his freedom," Ginny whispered, the wind suddenly ripped from her sails at the gentleness of Hermione's voice.

"I think anyone in Draco's situation would, Ginny," Hermione said, slowly putting her arms around the girl and hugging her. "He's been abused from childhood, so that's mainly all he knows when it comes to authority figures. No wonder he's always been so confrontational with the headmaster, the professors, Filch... Even when it comes to Snape, in public, he gets a smug, entitled attitude."

Ginny shuddered from within the confines of Hermione's arms. "I just want to help him," she said brokenly. "That's all I want..."

"Is it?" Hermione asked, slowly pulling back to get a good look at Ginny's face. "Is that really all you want?"

Ginny shook her head. "What are you saying right now?"

"I'm saying that maybe, just maybe, you need to decide for yourself, not what anyone expects of you, what you want," Hermione told her firmly.

Ginny swallowed. "No, it... It can't be him," she whispered, summoning her belongings and running out of the room.

She dashed along the corridors, becoming lost in the maze of the school, and, when she finally arrived at the hallway of the Room of Requirement, she knew that she had been brought to the right place. Pacing back and forth as she'd been doing back in Hermione's rooms, this time it was for a purpose. When the door appeared, she looked around, and was relieved to see that no one was about. She approached the door and opened it up, feeling relieved when it shut behind her an enclosed her in.

Ginny looked around, quickly deducing that she was standing in an arena of some kind. The dummies, which they'd used in Dumbledore's Army to practice their spell work, were lined systematically throughout the space. Immediately, Ginny dropped her things and whipped out her wand, and marched towards the dummy closest to her, fire in her eyes and rapidly enflaming her heart as she thought about all that Draco's relatives—who were supposed to love and care for him above all else—had done to him for all these years.

"Protego Diabolica!" she screeched at the top of her lungs, and black fire erupted and flew from the tip of her wand, smiting the first dummy, and extinguishing it into cinders.

She continued in this vein, the black fire vanquishing every dummy as the images of her worst nightmare filled her mind. On and on she went, tears of rage momentarily blinding her vision, and, when she reached the last dummy, she heard the echo of Bellatrix Lestrange's mad laughter in her ears from the Department of Mysteries. She let out a scream and cast the spell, and this dummy burst instead of burning away slowly as the others had done.

Her magic spent, Ginny crumpled to the floor, soot still in the air, and the entire room reeking with the scent of ashes. Ginny pulled her knees upwards to her chest, the tears continuing to fall down her face as she set there. She let out a screaming sob of anguish and put her head into her hands, knowing then and there that she had to make a change.

~*~

Five days later was Saturday again and Ginny and Hermione readied themselves together in the Head Girl rooms for the Valentine's Day ball. The band had reportedly already arrived, and Professors McGonagall and Sprout had decorated the Great Hall, taking a page out of Madam Puddifoot's decorating style for the evening ahead. There was a knock at the door, as soon as Ginny and Hermione had finished looking in the mirror—makeup in place, hair done, and outfits perfect—and Hermione went to answer it. Harry and Dean stood outside the door, and offered their arms to Hermione and Ginny respectively. Hermione shut and warded her door, and she and Ginny put their wands into hidden pockets of their gowns, before accepting the arms of their dates and went down to the Great Hall together.

They walked down the main staircase and finally into the Entrance Hall, walking down it with the crowd of other students granted admittance to the ball. Stepping inside, there were pink walls, a Cupid fountain, and pink and purple hearts fluttering merrily about the space, which made Harry grimace. The table was filled with all varieties of pink, white, and red-tinted foods, and he house-elves had outdone themselves with the menu. Spellbound was already playing their love songs, currently playing Love Spell, where the staff table typically sit, and had a lovely pink stage, although it clashed with the bands' typical grunge aesthetic.

"I'll get us some punch," Dean suggested.

"Sounds good," Ginny confirmed, and Dean squeezed her hand before going to get it.

"We don't have to dance, do we 'Mione?" Harry asked.

Hermione laughed. "Maybe once, but not if you really don't want to," she assured him, looking throughout the room.

On the dance floor, Luna and Neville were slow dancing elegantly; Daphne and Blaise were doing a fast-paced approach; and Ron and Lavender were dancing borderline inappropriately. It was truly a sickening sight to see the latter couple, but Ginny was positive that she and Harry could keep Hermione happy for the evening.

"Don't look at them," Ginny told her gently, and took Hermione's hand to distract her. "I'll even dance with you, if you like."

Hermione smiled. "I may take you up on that, since my date has two left feet," she joked, grinning over at Harry.

Harry shuddered. "Thankfully I don't have to dance with Parvati again," he said, looking over to where the couples were dancing—the Patil twins had been asked by Anthony Goldstein and Zacharias Smith, and Harry hoped that the latter would be nice to Parvati.

"She looks lovely," Hermione observed, seeing the young Astoria Greengrass—a fourth-year—dancing with Theodore Nott.

"They were betrothed last Christmas, just like Daphne and Blaise," Ginny put in. "They're not as Dark as typical for Slytherin House, and neither are the Zabini or Nott families."

"That's a relief," Hermione said with a sigh. "The Greengrass sisters have always been nice, even to me."

"Us, too," Harry said, indicating himself and Ginny, who nodded.

"The same can't be said for them," Ginny said darkly; Vincent Crabbe was dancing with Millicent Bulstrode, and their betrothal announcement had also happened last Christmas. "I just hope they don't kill each other."

"Or them," Harry said, nodding towards Gregory Goyle and Tracey Davis, "although it's odd that they Goyle family accepted her at all, given their Pureblood leanings."

"Must want to get some of the inbreeding out," Ginny muttered, although seeing Draco and Pansy dancing together set her teeth on edge.

Hermione coughed at the unexpectedness of Ginny's comment. "Um, I really don't think it works that way," she said softly.

"Are you seeing him tonight, Harry?" Ginny asked softly.

Harry grinned at her and searched the crowd for Severus, who inconspicuously raised one eyebrow at him. Harry glared right back and then turned back to Ginny. "That was our very own, private signal that we use," he said, truly delighted. "It means I can come down to his rooms when this is over."

"Do be careful, Harry," Hermione reminded him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I will," he groused, before the song changed into something more appropriate for a platonic dance. "Dance?"

Hermione grinned becomingly. "Thought you'd never ask," she replied, taking Harry's offered hand and walking towards the dance floor with him, and Ginny smirked at the sight of Hermione dancing with Harry, and Lavender trying to get him back to looking at her.

Ginny swayed absentmindedly to the music, and wondered what was taking Dean so long. She turned around and automatically looked at the punch table, but didn't see him, or anyone else, for that matter. Perplexed, she looked around the rest of the Great Hall and, seeing nothing, made her way out and down the corridor. The corridor of the Entrance Hall had also been decorated for the occasion, with red, pink, and white velvet curtains hanging becomingly in various alcoves, and Ginny wondered if the Transfiguration and Herbology professor had done this accidentally or on purpose.

There was giggling just around the corner from the Entrance Hall, and there was a curtain concealing what was truly going on back there. Ginny sighed, and spelled the curtain out of the way, knowing that, as a Prefect, she had to make sure any untoward activity was dealt with. She very nearly dropped her wand, however, when she saw Dean and Seamus breaking apart suddenly, and a smashed potion bottle between them.

"What...what?" Ginny asked, at a loss for words.

Seamus lowered his eyes. "Ginny, I..."

"It's okay, Seamus," Dean said quickly, and took his hand, before facing his girlfriend with a determined expression. "Ginny, I was being poisoned."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "You were being what?" she whispered.

"I just got the antidote," Seamus said, gesturing to the smashed bottle.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't understand..."

"Someone was poisoning me to keep me with you," Dean said quietly. "Seamus found the antidote and, once it was in my system, I realized that I love him."

Seamus's eyes shot to Dean. "You love me?"

Dean turned to Seamus with a smile. "Of course I love you."

"I love you, too," Seamus replied.

Ginny sighed, relieved that she seemingly hadn't done anything wrong. "Well, I'd like to help get to the bottom of all this," she said.

Seamus blinked and turned to Ginny. "You're not mad?"

Ginny smiled at him. "No, of course I'm not mad. About this," she said, and motioned her hand between them. "It's that that I'm mad about," she went on, indicating the bottle. "No one should ever poison someone to force them to be in a relationship." She crossed over to Dean and kissed him on the cheek. "Suffice it to say I'm breaking up with you, and you," Ginny said, and pressed another kiss to Dean's cheek, "take good care of him, all right?"

Seamus grinned at Ginny. "Thanks."

"Thank you, Ginny," Dean said seriously.

Ginny nodded. "You're both welcome," she said, and fixed the curtain. "Now, have some fun, but don't break curfew. And, for Merlin's sake, put up a Silencing Charm!" she said, grinning, and stepped away from their alcove.

She stepped outside and into the cool night air, feeling lighter than she had for such a long time, and it felt wonderful. The moon was still virtually full, and it lit her way, along with the torches, along the stone outside path. She hoped that Remus and Tonks were together, and had reached an understanding about everything. Life was too short to keep up with indecisions, when, in times of war, you needed to say what you wanted out loud.

It was then that there were a quick succession of footsteps behind her, and Draco came rushing out, cloak in hand, and put it around Ginny's shoulders. "Are you mad?" he hissed, shaking his head at her as he wrapped her up. "It's freezing out here!"

Ginny shrugged. "I just needed some air," she replied, and bit her lip, moving to step away from him. "You'd better get back inside, though. As you've said, Pansy wouldn't like you to associate with me."

Draco shook his head. "You left the ball so suddenly, I was worried," he admitted, although his eyes were the only giveaway for that emotion.

Ginny shook her head back at him. "Well, I'm fine," she said curtly.

"And what about Dean?" Draco demanded. "He's your escort for tonight..."

Ginny sighed, shoulders deflating. "Dean was being poisoned—we still don't know who the real culprit is yet," she said quietly, hoping that she could trust Draco with this. "Anyhow, Seamus got him the antidote and he took it. Long story short, they're in love, and I broke up with Dean, plain and simple."

Draco looked shell-shocked. "You broke up with Dean?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes."

Draco swallowed. "Why aren't you more upset? He cheated on you..."

"With someone he loves," Ginny said, interrupting him. "And it doesn't matter to me. I wasn't in love with Dean."

Draco shook his head, trying to figure out what was going on. "Hold on... You weren't in love with Dean?" he asked, a bit stupidly.

Ginny stared up at Draco, never breaking eye contact. "No," she told him. "But why should it matter to you, anyway?"

Draco blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Pansy is your fiancée, and she practically throws herself at you every chance she gets—don't deny it," she went on, although her voice shook with raw emotion. "You've been betrothed since you both were in the cradle, and you should be with her right now, on this day of love, instead of a Blood Traitor, who—"

"Don't call yourself that," Draco growled, and Ginny shivered as goosebumps erupted upon her flesh at his tone of voice. "I never wanted the betrothal."

Ginny fought hard to blink back tears. "You didn't?"

"No," Draco said, shaking his head vehemently. "In case you didn't know, 'in the cradle' means from babyhood. As in, I had no choice in the matter."

Ginny swallowed. "But why should any of that matter? You haven't gone against your family yet, so what do you intend to do here?"

"In this matter, I intend to make my own way," Draco declared, gently taking ahold of Ginny's cheek and stroking it with the pad of his thumb. "I don't want Pansy."

Ginny felt her eyes fill completely with tears then, as she struggled to keep a good hold of her emotions, although they flew out of her before she could call them back. "You don't?"

"I don't," he confirmed. "I don't care what society says, or what my family dictates. I just want to have something for myself."

"Which is?" Ginny whispered.

Draco smiled slowly then—a small smile, a wonderful smile—and Ginny felt her heart thundering within her breast and her ears at what her insides did as he smiled at her. Wiping her tears from her eyes, he pulled her closer to him, and Ginny felt utterly wonderful at the sensation of being in Draco Malfoy's arms.

"Draco," she said softly, tilting her head upwards, as she had done when they'd been in the corridor before Professor Slughorn's dinner party.

"Ginny," Draco responded, and leaned his head down, without hesitation on his part this time, and pressed his lips to hers.

Ginny, immediately opened her mouth beneath the softness of his lips, and she let out a soft mewl as Draco devoured her mouth. She threw her arms around his neck and stood on her toes, although Draco tightened his grip upon her waist and brought her up and into his arms. He stepped out into the courtyard beyond—the dueling tournament organized by Professor Flitwick now over for hours—and spun her around. They broke apart then and stared at one another, their feelings written over their faces, as the heavens opened, and, for the first time in weeks, snow fell upon their heads, and they both laughed—actually laughed—for if the weather would throw snow at them, they could handle anything, they reasoned, and slowly, their lips found one other's again, and they didn't let each other go.