The Unforgettable Fire

CHAPTER 7: Year 5, Part 1, Faded

Summertime, hm, I like that time. A time you are away from your schoolwork, a time you are away from your teachers, a time you are away from your stress. A good time to relax, a good time to let your hair down and sunbathe in the July sun, a good time to plot revenge against your Headmaster for trying to use you in his plans for the future and how did that get in there?

So, my summer was relaxing, how was yours? I didn't sleep and eat because I didn't have enough time in between being livid and trying to catch up on how angry I was with my diary. Oh, how I hated them. There were no words. NO WORDS! How can you hate a person (several actually) so much that you have no words to describe it? Well I hated several people (Tom, Harry, Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Black to name a few) like that. I HATED them and with damn good reason.

You don't just use me. No one USES me. If anyone is going to get used, it is going to be you. Oh, you think not? Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?

And hatred stings. It burns your insides. It shrivels all your previous wants and desires. It builds in you. If you have no way to let it out, to distinguish it, you get burnt. It is like holding a firecracker in your hand. If you leave it open, you might get burnt a bit, no biggie. But if you close your hand around that same firecracker, you'll get your hand blown off. That was about the same thing that was happening to me. I refused to let my feelings go, people who feel are weak and I am not weak. So I kept it inside. If I didn't find an outlet (and believe me, Nysilia's ring makes it worse and I could barely concentrate on anything for Chani's ring to work) soon, I was going to explode. Not only that, others would get majorly burned as well.

I tried everything. Beating up my brother didn't help, though it was fun. (Okay, long story made short: I was on my period and he asked me what was wrong. I took it a bit out of context, I'll admit, but he had a twenty foot minimum, in other words, he gets anywhere in the perimeter of twenty feet from me, I'm automatically pissed.) And, as you may as well have figured out, yelling at my mother did NOT help.

But just as soon as Mount St. Helens (a. k. a. me) was going to irrupt, a miracle came. It was mid-July when Harry came over. I was pissed (remember the eternal state of bitchiness cause it was still there) already because of something I don't remember, and to top it all off, he was coming to my house. My sanctuary (kind of) away from him.

Quoting Jimi Hendrix's "All Along the Watchtower,"

"There must be some kind of way out of here,"

Said the joker to the thief.

"There's too much confusion,

"I can't get no relief."

I couldn't "get no relief" as Jimi so grammatically correctly put it. It was all bottled up until one afternoon...

Ginny laid belly on the floor of her tree house, her real safe haven from the storm. She always felt calmer in there; it was easier for her to think.

Oh, she loved it. The mists came, rising in her mind. She would meet another, another sister. A clean smell came into her nose, oranges, vanilla, and jasmine. It was an interesting smell, very clear and distinct. She opened her eyes, eager to see the room she was in. It was medium sized and had a low, Japanese style table in the center. There was calligraphy on the walls as well as traditional brush paintings. On the table sat a tea set and at the table sat a small, yet young looking woman. She was obviously Japanese by the slant of her eyes and the color of her skin, white as milk. She wore her hair back in a comb of jade and a green patterned kimono. She was kneeling at the table, sipping her tea gracefully and reading a scroll. She looked up at Ginny and motioned for her to sit. Ginny glanced at the woman's walls; the calligraphy was poetry, haikus to be exact.

"Virginia," she said in a slightly accented voice, "I am happy to see you have made it this far. I am called Shijin, the Maiden of the Arts. Please, have some tea."

Ginny sat across from her, doing her best not to stare. This was the greatest room she'd been in in her whole life! Ginny was surprisingly comfortable sitting on the pillow and she dared a drink of tea. It was delicious. Merlin she wished she lived here!

"Now, I have a gift for you, as you know," Shijin began. On the table, a small box with ornate cranes painted delicately on the top sat. Shijin opened it and extracted a silver ring. Written in Japanese was Virgin-Maiden of the Arts. "I bestow my training and knowledge on you, Virginia."

Ginny took it from Shijin's hand and felt the cooling sensation flow freely though her. "What is this?"

Shijin smiled and said, "I think you will figure out what it does soon enough, my butterfly. My suggestion is go home and sleep first though, you look like you could use it. Please use it wisely, Virginia, it is a very powerful ring. I'm sorry my time with you is so short, but my last piece of advice is be creative. Ja ne, Little Butterfly!"

The mists receded again and I was laying belly up on the floor of my tree house, a silver ring in my hand. I studied it carefully. It wasn't particularly beautiful like Nefertiti's, nor did it seem to fill me with any dark powers like Morgana's or freeze my soul like Nysilia's. But I could tell, just by looking at it, that it was indeed special. I wish I could have studied it more, but it was time to go to dinner...

"Ginny! Ginny! Come down, Ginny, dinner is ready," she heard her brother shout. Ginny sighed and climbed slowly out of the tree house, none too anxious to be in that house with Harry, but anxious to take Shijin's advice.

He was inside by the time she entered the house, inside and talking to Harry at the kitchen table. Ginny took a seat at the opposite side of the table and opened the book she had brought with her from the tree house. She acknowledged Harry in no way, but did note that Hermione was absent. She could feel his eyes burn into the top of her head as she seemingly flipped the pages nonchalantly. She also noted that no one had spoken since she had entered and her mother wasn't bobbing around anywhere, fawning over Harry.

She exhaled loudly and put her book face down on the table. "What?" she asked in a voice that betrayed her agitation.

Harry and Ron were looking livid and Ginny found it hard to get upset about it. "What?" she repeated.

"Emergency at the Ministry," Ron said coldly, "Mum went to help, she thought her mediwitch skills would help."

"And?" Ginny asked.

"So why didn't you tell anyone?" Harry said angrily.

Ginny worked hard to keep her facial expressions under control, as well as her temper. "How would I have known?" she said in a fake sweet voice.

"Harry told me you could see the future, that you predicted it twice," Ron said. "Why aren't you at Delphi, Ginny? We need you now more than ever!"

"Why?" Ginny said in a quiet voice. "Why, you say. Okay, I'll tell you why. Tell me Ronald, do you know how long I would have to stay there?"

"Probably until the war is over," he answered simply.

Ginny flashed a dangerous smile, "Oh, so, five years, seven years, ten years? Well, that doesn't seem so bad, if it is for the cause right?"

"Exactly!" Ron said with a smile, "So we'll owl Dumbledore and tell him you'll do it!"

"You bloody better not!" Ginny said, now standing. "I wouldn't just stay there 'five or seven or ten years' Ronald! I would stay there my whole life. If I sat on that damnable seat at Delphi, I would be trapped there, seeing the future or its possibilities for the REST OF MY LIFE!"

Ron and Harry's faces went pale.

"So why don't I want to go to Delphi? I wonder, would you, if it meant you would never see your enemies die, your friends prosper, your life lived? I don't think you would Ronald. I don't think you would either Harry."

"If it killed Voldemort," Harry growled, "I would do anything."

"Easy for you to say that, Harry. I've seen your death. Or at least I've seen how you could die. But I can't tell you, no, there are rules to this sort of thing, I know that now. So even if I did know that there was going to be an attack on the Ministry, I wouldn't tell a soul, not a bloody soul. Do you know why; I wouldn't do ANYTHING to kill Tom. I would do the thing that killed him. You know nothing, Harry. And Ronald, you know even less. So just shut up about things you don't know." Then Ginny walked out of the room and up to hers, completely forgetting about dinner.

For the longest time, she sat in there with Nysilia's ring on, trying not to feel anything bad, but at the same time, trying to stay aware enough to keep awake. A day or so later, she took it off and was assaulted with the pain over again, but she was used to it by now. She was used to pain, it kept her alive. Without pain, you don't know if you're bleeding. Ginny was bleeding with Nysilia's ring on, but she couldn't feel it. One day she would just bleed to death.

Ginny walked down stairs one morning, expecting Harry and Ron to be out practicing. Instead, they were inside with George and Fred, both of whom looked awfully tired. Ginny leaned in the door way, escaping people's attention for a while as they spoke.

"And how is she?" George asked. He never looked so old before, maybe it was the dark rings under his eyes.

"Ginny?" Ron asked.

"No, your imaginary girlfriend," Fred said dully, taking a long drink of coffee.

"I don't know. She has been up there for days. She doesn't talk when we open the door..."

Holding her letter for Draco, Ginny walked in the room, pretending to be oblivious to the conversation. "Morning Fred, morning George," she said, trying to sound genial.

"Morning Ginny," they said together.

She tied the letter to her owl, Fräulein, a medium sized and silver owl with coppery eyes. "Fliegen Sie schnelles Fräulein. Liefern Sie die Nachricht sicher und schnell kleine Eule," she said to it soothingly in German. "Schicken Sie Draco dies direkt."

The silvery owl speed off to her destination and Ginny smiled after it.

"Who was that to?" Ron asked.

"Where I send Fräulein is none of your damn business, Ronald," she spat over her shoulder as she picked up her broom at the door and began walking out.

A hand grabbed her arm and spun her about. "Who was the letter to, Gin?" George asked.

"Draco," Ron said. "I think it was to Draco, I heard his name."

"Is that true?" Fred asked.

Ginny didn't have time to answer, but Harry did, "They are something of a couple, Draco and her."

Ginny shook her head. "No we aren't."

"Then what are you?" Harry asked harshly, "His whore, his own personal slut?"

How can I hurt him most? Ginny asked herself. "Wouldn't you like to know? I mean, isn't that the big question; what is the relationship between Draco and Ginny? Is she his concubine? Is she his friend? Is she his girlfriend? Does she do his homework for him? Wouldn't you all like to know? I'll give you a hint, I don't love him and he doesn't love me."

"Doesn't it bother you that his father is a Death Eater, Gin? Doesn't it bother you that he will be one too?" Fred asked her.

Ginny smiled ruefully, "We can't change what we are, or what we will become, Fred, just like we can't change the sun from setting. If it wasn't him it would be some one else, one of you maybe. And besides, why would you care? You never cared before. You don't take care of me anymore, you never really did."

George had let go of her and they were all looking at her with sorry expressions on her face.

"Now really, don't blame yourselves. It isn't like you asked me to be put in Slytherin. I'm surviving just fine without you. In fact," she said looking at Harry, "I could probably survive better without some of you. So go and rest easy on the morals mother and father taught us. Don't give up on me just yet, it isn't the Gryffindor way. Just forget for a while, forget until the time comes when I could help you. I'm just warning you, Slytherins aren't so forgiving and I've already been betrayed by my fair share of Gryffindors. Now if you'll excuse me, the star Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team needs to practice just as much as anyone. I'll see you this evening. And don't worry about Mother and Father, they will be fine."

Dinner wasn't forgotten though. She headed down into town and got a table at a bar called Molly's Tankard. She was going to experiment with Shijin's ring. It was simple like Chani's, but it drew her eyes to it. It was like art itself. She sat at the small table and took out her sketch pad. Ginny studied the costumers and then began to sketch.

It was different from what sketching felt like without the ring. It was more natural. It was like your hand moved over the paper just like a cool breeze across the ocean. It was smooth and purifying feeling.

She darkened the background of the sketch, imitating the darkness in the bar and bringing out the gruff hopelessness of the older costumers. The older costumers who had sat there for twenty years at least and would probably sit there for twenty more, if their livers and wives allowed it.

She sat in the dark corner for a long while, long after midnight until the barkeep called out closing time and she left. No one gave her a second glance. Barely anyone noticed her. She had used a Masses Cloak, one she had made herself. She had wanted to experiment with it for some time now. It was supposed to make her nearly invisible in big crowds. It was supposed to make people just look over her. It had worked very well, the waitress constantly forgot about her.

When she returned home Fred and George were up and talking to Harry and Ron still. She hung her cloak on the coat rack near the door and put her broom in the closet, still hanging on to her sketch book. She didn't speak to or acknowledge them in any way, just headed up to her room.

I still think that Shijin's ring is the greatest one. It made you feel clean again. It, sort of, released your emotions through art. It was a good feeling and I slept well with it.

Mother and Father returned home the next day, both looking exhausted and ready to sleep. I stayed out of sight. You know what they say, "Out of sight and out of mind."

The summer seemed to fly after that. I tried to keep out of the house as much as I could. It isn't much fun for me to be home. I used to look forward to it, but now it seems more like a punishment than a reward. I think I would rather be at school with people I don't trust or even like much than at home, and that is saying a lot.

I was fading and I could feel it. It was like the ocean had swallowed me and I just didn't care. The griffin in my heart was nothing more than a shadow and the snake had wrapped itself around my heart so tightly there was no telling if I would wake up dead the next morning because it had stopped pumping. I just didn't care. I didn't care enough and that was why I was fading. My world didn't know me, my family didn't know me, I didn't know me. I didn't want to know me. I just wanted to be. I just wanted to get it over with. I had long ago stopped wanting for foolish things like happiness and love. I only wanted the recognition that came with intense power. Yes, I wanted power too. I wanted the heartless machine heart that came with power. I wanted things that weren't good for me. The thing I'd learned is you can want all you want, that doesn't mean you'd get it. Sometimes things call for action and sometimes things don't. Power calls for action. You just can't wake up one day powerful and feared. You have to earn that fear; you have to earn that power. Looking back, that is the only thing I really cared about. Showing people they were wrong through getting all the power I could.

And I was alright with it all. 'It all' wasn't alright with me, but that didn't matter. Power mattered. But before power, I had to go to school.

So I did. September 1^st came and I boarded the train to Hogwarts. Draco stood by my side, still tainted from his father's influence over the summer months. Draco didn't like going home any more than I did.

Start-of-Term feast came and I sat though the lines of first years all nervous to be sorted. There was a smaller number of Slytherins year; only four. I decided it was because the parents were dying off. Draco decided it was because everyone wanted to be like the brave Harry Potter. It may have been true because the number of Gryffindor was nine, an ungodly large number.

School went smoothly for the first month. My walls quickly accumulated with sketches and doodles I'd done in my spare time. I was definitely getting better under Shijin's tutelage. That is what I considered it. I mean, it wasn't like I just wore the ring and I was a better painter than I already had been. I still had to work on it and I worked hard. It just seemed that I picked up little skills every time I used the ring. It was like I had a teacher telling me little tips and short cuts to being a better artist. My poetry improved too. One poem I particularly like from my fifth year is a poem called "Nothing Gold Can Stay."

Here I'll read it to you.

"Nothing Gold Can Stay,

"by V. A. Weasley.

"Nature's first green is gold,

"Her hardest hue to hold.

"Her early leaf's a flower;

"But only so an hour.

"Then leaf subsides to leaf.

"So Eden sank to grief,

"So dawn goes down to day.

"Nothing gold can stay."

Only mildly depressing and not really all that dark. I can tell you, it did get darker though. It was like Shijin's ring released your most hidden emotions, but you didn't have to feel them, you just had to express them in art. It didn't hurt, though sometimes it hurt to look at the art.

At any rate, Mabon came around and Draco wished me a happy birthday. I was well on my way to being an Animagus. I remember the day I found out what animal I'd be, I'm sure you're interested.

"Now," Professor McGonagall said, preparing the vision circle, "As you know, your animal will reflect your soul magic. It will be an inner symbol of you and your characteristics. I have borrowed an Animagus animal symbolism book from the library for you to look at later if you so choose. Now, Miss Weasley, are you ready for this?"

"Yes," Ginny said confidently. She had read about this step in Animagus training. Once she stepped in the circle, she would be able to see the reflection of her soul magic in animal form. It was something everyone had and everyone could do, just most didn't take the time to do it.

"Good," McGonagall said, not bothering to check on her. In McGonagall's experience, the girl was always ready. Why she had been put in Slytherin was beyond her. In her opinion, Ginny could have done well in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. The hat, she guessed, saw it differently. "Now step inside the circle."

Drawing her wand, Ginny stepped inside the circle. Immediately, the Soul Sand began to glow and sparkle. Ginny knew she had to do the incantation soon or the power of the sand would be exhausted. "VEO ANIMLIA!" she shouted.

Then a black form came out of her wand, a projection of sorts. She saw the eyes before she saw its form. They were a coppery brown-gold, just like her eyes and seemed to be calculating her in a way, trying to find a flaw in her character before it truly came into vision. They seemed to find her worthy because the form of the animal began to clear. Now three seconds later, a dark, cat-like creature stood before her. It paced around her, padding lightly on its paws and measuring her with its golden eyes. Finally, it blinked up at her and let out a roar of approval; then it vanished from sight.

Ginny stood in the Soul Sand's dying light amazed. She was-

"-a panther. Well, isn't that interesting," Professor McGonagall said in a voice that betrayed only a small portion of her actual amazement.

Ginny stepped out of the circle and sat heavily on the nearby chair, taking a drink of the water. She blinked a couple of time then opened the animal symbolism book.

"I know that it takes a lot out of a person," McGonagall said in a business like voice, "So this is where we will stop for tonight, Miss Weasley. Good night, I'll see you next Thursday at seven."

Ginny nodded vaguely and finally found the place that talked about panthers. Taking another drink of water, she read aloud from the old text, "The panther has long been known for its connection with death and rebirth. Though to further understand the panther, you have to understand its origins. It lives in the deep jungles, secluded from company except when mating. They have long been known as the guardians of Soul Power and have powers over astral travel and clairvoyance. They also stand for feminine power, beauty, and confidence. They are also associated with swiftness, cunning, strength, perseverance, and boldness. But they are most deeply connected with death and the understanding of death, the ability to know the dark, and reclaiming one's power."

Ginny exhaled swiftly. Well that was a lot to swallow. Her Soul Animal was an animal of darkness and death. I think it fits you fine, her subconscious said dully. Ginny frowned and decided to look up McGonagall's Soul Animal.

She skimmed the section on cats, picking out words like independence, protection, guardianship, detachment, wisdom, aloofness, balance, self-assured, recuperative power and intelligence. It seemed that McGonagall's Soul Animal was right on track.

Ginny flipped back to her animal. "Reclaiming one's power," she said quietly. She was supposed to in some way help the Green Knight in the defeat of the Dark One. What if she was supposed to 'reclaim his power'? If she had that ability, did it only extend to the Green Knight? Or could anyone use it, say Tom? If so, it would make sense. She did reclaim his old power, or at least some of it, in her first year by bringing his sixteen year old soul back to life. Thinking back, most people shouldn't have been able to do that. Having the power to resurrect one's soul would take a lot of power, power an eleven year old girl shouldn't have.

She frowned and looked back to the selection. "Guardians of Soul Power...clairvoyance," she mumbled. That meant she must have been something of a clairvoyant before she came upon Morgana's ring. If it was in her soul; or at least her Soul Animal, it had been there long before she put Morgana's ring on her finger. Staring blankly at the page, she thought. If she was this Virgin Of/From Light, the passage "deeply connected with death and the understanding of death, the ability to know the dark" would make a lot of sense indeed. That meant she obviously wasn't a Virgin OF Light, because she wasn't a virgin. She had to be a Virgin From the Light, as she had never experienced true purity. She had never really known the light, that was associated with the pure, the proud, the Gryffindor. She definitely wasn't that virgin.

Everything seemed to be falling into place, making sense and fitting together beautifully. She had six of the seven rings and had learned and was still learning about all of them. But it wasn't all great and good. What if she didn't want to be the Virgin From Light? What if she didn't want to be part of the Great Plan of Life? What if that wasn't part of her plan?

"I wouldn't have a choice anyway," she said quietly to herself. She would never have a choice in this. She was too deep in now, she was too engrossed. This was just one of those things she'd have to accept.

And I swear, I've done my best to accept it, I've done my best to fit in with the plan. And yes, for my part, I have. Other people...well again, I can't get into that just now. Be patient though, all will come together in the end.

And life went on for me; me and the rest of the school. Halloween came and went just like the end of October. Teachers stressed over first term finals and students stressed about stressed teachers stressing about first term finals.

I was calm as ever and had just finished my masterpiece (okay, so I was fifteen, it was a masterpiece then) of my soul Animal. In the painting, I was crouched down beside it and our eyes were level with each other, showing the similarities. Draco said he liked that one the most because of the eyes. He said it gave the painting a primal feeling, like man and nature were meant to have some bonds. I found out that he was something of an art critic and he actually had good taste.

At any rate, life progressed as normal. Some Slytherin sixth and seventh years got in a fight with some Gryffindor sixth and seventh years over the opening Quidditch match, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. I thought that the Slytherins were being stupid and the Gryffindor were egging them on. Fortunately, Draco and Harry weren't involved with this particular spat so no one died or anything.

Our Quidditch team was young this year, Henry Morrison, a Beater with Derrick last year didn't come back to school that term, no one knew what happened to him. So we picked up those slobbering idiots, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle to be our Beaters. They were actually good players and Draco, the team captain, was satisfied with their play. Warrington and Montague gone, we had room for two new Chasers. They ended up being boys from my year, Julius Flint, the younger brother of Marcus Flint (and by they way they looked almost identical, though Julius must have been more self-conscious because he got his horrid teeth straightened) and Adam Dolohov, a dark haired and eyed boy I found mildly handsome. With Jonathan Wilkes returning as Keeper, we were a solid seven. The team would be competitive this year and I was grateful for that. Another game like the one against Gryffindor and I would die of shame.

But no matter what happened someone was going to die because I wasn't very happy with my team mates.

"One more fucking time, Draco, and I swear there will be blood. Lots of blood, Draco, and you'll need two new Chasers and you won't even be able to find the body parts of your Beaters!" Ginny yelled at him in her dormitory one night.

"Guys will be guys," he said in a nonplussed voice, lounging on her bed as she brushed her hair at her vanity.

"I'm just saying you won't have any guys if they don't stop," Ginny said more calmly. "I mean, are they just too stupid to figure out I'm off limits?"

"Yes," he answered, picking up her sketch book to look at one of her newest drawings. "This one is good," he commented, "Are you going to paint it?"

Ginny flopped down on the bed next to him and he put his arm around her shoulder. "No, not unless I can get the hands right. They are supposed to be holding it, not floating through it."

Draco flipped to the next page and Ginny sat with him quietly. She liked to watch him think, it was soothing. She decided she would have to capture that feeling someday. Then she yawned and said, "Get out, I'm tired."

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "Well then your highness, don't let me intrude." He rolled out of the bed, putting the book on her bedside table. Closing her door he walked out and Ginny fell asleep to dream of Quaffles and Quidditch pitch.

Ginny was filled with unfelt anxiety as she walked the halls of Hogwarts the day of the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match. It seemed everywhere she went Gryffindors were looking to trip her up, get in fights, and be general assholes. She couldn't blame them though; her teammates were doing the same thing. She walked in the middle of her 'bodyguards' which consisted of the three boys in her year that were on the team, Jonathan Wilkes, Julius Flint, and Adam Dolohov.

The opposing Gryffindors gave them nasty looks as they passed and never could get enough satisfaction in calling her the Snake's Mistress. Rumors flew about her coupling with virtually every Slytherin young and old, male and female. But she didn't care. Let them think what they want, she thought.

Harry had managed to recruit the rest of his team, filling the spaces of Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, the Chasers, with fourth year Dennis Creevey and seventh year Anna Silverstream. He managed to find a better Keeper than the previous year with a sixth year by the name of Dean Thomas. Ginny knew that his team would be inexperienced, not like her team, but they still had Harry, the boy who had only lost one game in his whole life.

Soon, the match came and Ginny was standing on her oh so familiar side of the field listening to the oh so familiar 'play fair' speech of Madam Hooch and getting soaked to the bone by the oh so familiar November showers. It was a fantastic day to be playing Quidditch if she did say so herself.

The Quaffle was released and the game begun. "And Hurricane Weasley takes the Quaffle for the first play of the season," Rhonda Lane, the seventh year Ravenclaw commentator said to the crowd. "Watch out Gryffindor because the Hurricane is in her atmosphere during this storm and I'm betting angry about last years little Dopplebeater Defense. Crabbe or Goyle, I can't tell them apart, beat away Gryffindor's first line of defense, allowing the Hurricane passage onto Gryffindor ground. And Hurricane Weasley is the first to be put on the boards, Slytherin 10, Gryffindor 0."

Ginny sped about the pitch, the crowd in green cheering the play as she stole the Quaffle from her brother as she threw it and tossed it off to her teammate, Julius Flint. Through an excellent display of team work, Crabbe and Goyle successfully beat a path through the Gryffindors once again, allowing Flint to score and Dolohov to steal the Quaffle right out from under the Gryffindor Chaser's nose.

"And although it is hard to believe, Slytherin seems to have better teamwork than the Gryffindor team. Captain Draco Malfoy seems to have done something right by putting this young team together. And ten more points for Slytherin compliments of Hurricane Weasley. Slytherin 30, Gryffindor 0. This match is turning out like last year's, let's hope for Slytherin's sake the Hurricane can stay on her broom.

"And off she goes again, Hurricane to Dolohov, Dolohov to Hurricane, Hurricane to the goals and an excellent Reverse Pass, if I do say so myself, right into the expectant hands of Flint. Flint goes for the goal and it just barely skims the Gryffindor Keeper's fingers, goal four for Slytherin. Oh, WATCH THAT BLUDGER MADAM HOOCH! THAT WAS DELIBERATE BUMPHING ON SLYTHERIN'S PART! Filthy tactic, KEEP IT CLEAN MALFOY!

"No call on that one, sorry Gryffindor. Oh, what is this, has Potter seen the Snitch, he goes in for the snatch, it might be low, next to the Slytherin stands...wait, HE'S GONNA COLLIDE! Watch out Potter! Malfoy is closing in though; and what is this? Potter pulls up? Pull up MALFOY, PULL UP! Well that was close! Potter didn't even see the Snitch; wonderful Wronski Feint if I do say so myself.

"Play resumes and the Hurricane has the Quaffle again. And another excellent Reverse Pass to Flint and it is stolen by Weasley of Gryffindor. He heads down field and passes to Anna Silverstream, a seventh year replacing Spinnet. Stolen brutally by the Hurricane as she executes her famous Transylvanian Tackle. She chucks down field to Dolohov and it is intercepted by Creevey the younger, a fourth year who is almost as quick as the Hurricane. OH, WATCH IT, CREEVEY! Nasty hit to the stomach from Crabbe and Dolohov recovers the Quaffle and it is intercepted again by Weasley of Gryffindor. And he goes for an unlikely shot AND I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, he scores! Wilkes looks mad and he tosses it off to the Hurricane. What is this? The Woollongong Shimmy? It is! And it is beautiful! Perfect zigzags by the Hurricane and she is doing her job by distracting those Gryffindor Chasers. I can barely see her and neither can Thomas, Gryffindor's Keeper. The score is 50 to 10, Slytherin still in control."

Ginny smiled as she intercepted the Quaffle again, everything was going her way and she hadn't been hit yet. Sure the rain was a bit of a distraction, but it was more of a distraction for the Gryffindors. Draco had made the team practice in this by simulating rainy conditions on the pitch as they practiced.

Play after play 'Hurricane Weasley' beat the Gryffindor Keeper. He really wasn't that much better than Jacobs, last year's Keeper. Soon the score was 120 to 40, half of the points were hers to claim and all of the points against them were her brother's to claim. Rain poured down on them and then it happened.

"I sure am glad that I'm under a water proof pavilion," Rhonda continued, "The weather is awful out there, but the Hurricane seems to be loving it. She advances once again on the Gryffindor Keeper and what a surprise, she scores again, 130 to 40. At this point-HEY! What is this? Malfoy is neck to neck with Potter, the real Snitch seems to have finally appeared. Potter is breaking away; Malfoy might want to invest in a Firebolt if he gets the chance. And the Snitch soars higher with Potter and Malfoy close at its heels. And oh, no, Malfoy, watch out there's-"

"DRAAAACOOOOOOO!" Ginny screeched at the top of her lungs.

It came in slow motion. The Bludger hit by the two Gryffindor Beaters made contact with the back of Draco's head, she saw his eyes roll back in his head and he began falling from the broom. The scarlet and gold crowd cheered as Harry caught the Snitch. Ginny whipped her wand out of her green jersey and pointed it at the plunging Draco, "CORPUS LEVIOSA!" she yelled as loud as she could. His body jerked roughly as it stopped in midair.

Madam Hooch took control from there, putting his body on a stretcher and flying with it quickly to the castle.

Ginny sank to the ground and was joined by Wilkes, Flint, and Dolohov. Flint and Dolohov began talking about the unfairness of it all while Wilkes just studied Ginny. She knew she must have looked a little weak, but it didn't matter. She began walking quickly after Draco and then she broke into a run. She was stalled by the crowd of Gryffindors. She pushed her way through, earning nasty looks from the celebrating Gryffindors. She cleared the crowd and sprinted towards the castle. Ginny took the steps two at a time till she reached the Infirmary doors.

Just as she was about to put her hand on the door knob it opened and revealed her potions teacher, Severus Snape. Ginny stepped back in surprise and clutched a stitch in her side.

"Madam Pomfrey is working on him," Snape informed. Ginny nodded and tried to catch her breath. "She says his chances are good and he should be able to receive visitors tomorrow." Ginny nodded and he left her, breathing heavily and looking thankful. She leaned against the wall next to the door of the infirmary, deciding she could wait here tonight and maybe slip past Madam Pomfrey's eagle eyes.

Ginny took off her green Quidditch uniform and sat on it, leaving her in an only slightly dry school shirt and a pair of denim jeans. Putting her head between her knees, Ginny waited and waited.

It must have been around midnight when she smelled it. HE was there. She didn't open her eyes to see if he was there, she knew he was and that was good enough for her. The breeze he created moved her hair and it tickled her nose.

Then Ginny opened her eyes. To his credit, he didn't move or make a sound, but she couldn't see him so she couldn't judge his facial expressions. She licked her lips and said, "Just because I can't see you doesn't mean I don't know you are there, Harry."

Again he didn't move or speak, so Ginny tried a slightly different tactic. Quicker than the speed of light, she kicked his legs out from under him and she heard him hit the floor with a thud and the cloak slipped down to his waist. Sitting back against the wall, Ginny drew her wand and pointed it at him. He saw this and didn't move or make a sound. Ginny removed the Invisibility Cloak with her free hand and put it down next to her.

"Sit on your hands," she said in a commanding voice, "slowly."

He did so, not looking too happy about it.

"Stay quiet," she ordered, "Filch doesn't go out past one in the morning, so we won't get caught if you keep your mouth shut when I tell you."

He nodded and Ginny dropped her wand a bit, resting her hand on her knee. "So," she said quietly, "What are you doing here, Harry?"

"So I'm allowed to talk?" he asked sarcastically.

"I wouldn't have asked you if you weren't," she answered in a level voice.

"I wanted to see if Malfoy was going to live," he answered.

"How noble," Ginny said without any hint of emotion.

Harry sneered, "You say that like it is something bad."

"Perhaps," she answered in a bored voice.

"What is your major malfunction, Ginny? You didn't used to be like this," he said in a hard voice.

Ginny suppressed the urge to laugh, "My major malfunction? I think I'm functioning fine, Harry. What is your 'major malfunction'?"

A muscle in his eye twitched and she heard him grumble something like 'you' as he looked away. Ginny chuckled a bit and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. "Why did you really come down here, Harry?"

"I told you, so I could-"

"Ah, ah, ah," she said chidingly, tapping her head, "I know that one is a lie. What now Harry?"

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered, "I don't know. I've been having odd dreams..."

She opened her eyes as he died off. "What?" she asked.

"It is stupid," he said, looking her in the eye.

"I'm still waiting," she said coldly.

Harry frowned at her and said, "Fine. You are there, in most of them. But you are different from how you are now, more human," he spat. "And Voldemort is there too."

Ginny bit the inside of her mouth as she thought. He looked at her expectantly and she said, "I'm not laughing, and it isn't stupid."

He moved closer to her and put his hands in his lap, "Why? What do you know, Ginny?"

She twirled her hair with her fingers, ignoring him and his line of questioning. "'But with darkness, always comes the light,'" Ginny said quietly, quoting Reonet. "'A Green Knight...'"

"How did you know?" he asked her in a whisper, inching closer. She looked into his eyes. Green, she thought absently. Green? Green Knight? He is a Gryffindor...terribly noble...knight-like. Perhaps... She averted her eyes and put her wand in her Hogwart's shirt, not answering.

"How did you know?" he asked her again, his voice more insistent.

"How do we know anything, Harry? We were told once, a very long time ago."

"By who, then?"

"Can't tell you that," she said with a snort. She looked him in the eye, "Leave."

"No."

"Now."

"No!" he whispered harshly.

"Someone is coming," she informed him. His ears perked up and he listened intently. Then, as fast as light, he threw his cloak around her, covering both of them with the light fabric. He looked at her and put his finger over his lips, signaling to keep quiet. She nodded and was silent.

"We heard them, didn't we Mrs. Norris," the voice of Filch said into the dim corridors. "Heard them sneaking around. I'll bet you it's that Harry and his friends, probably trying to sneak some food to their common room. Come along now, we'll head them off at the kitchens, my sweet."

They passed Harry and Ginny quickly, neither taking a second glance in their direction. Filch and Mrs. Norris were long gone and Ginny was about to move when she felt a hand on her leg. Before she knew it, Harry's hand was moving sensually up and down her thigh and his nose was in her hair, taking in her scent. She stiffened automatically.

"Ginny," he moaned into her ear, "You don't know what you do to me."

Ginny tried to back away slowly, but he followed her, finally pushing her to the ground and pinning her there. Damnable rings! She thought furiously. Why couldn't she have taken them off when she had the chance? Really, sometimes they were more trouble than they were worth.

"Harry," she said solidly, "If you-"

"Sh," he said, quieting her by putting his finger on her lips. He bent down to bury his nose in her hair again, "Ginny," he said in a thick voice, lifting his head to look her in the eye, "Just once. Let me kiss you, please."

Ginny's lips parted to protest, but no words came out. Harry's eyes sparkled; he thought that meant okay. At the last moment, Ginny turned her head away and Harry's lips met air. "I'm not yours to kiss, Harry."

He let his head fall on her shoulder in defeat and he whispered, "I know," into her neck. She felt his jaw clench and then he forced her eyes to look at his, directing her chin with his fingers. Then he swiftly brought his lips to hers and placed a searing kiss on her mouth, forcing his tongue in her mouth roughly as he gripped her shoulders. Then he released her and stood up quickly. "I'm sorry," he said in a detached voice, backing up a bit. He looked at her once more and then fled while throwing his cloak over himself.

"You've got him scared of himself now, Virginia," an icy voice said from the doorway. Ginny looked up at Draco from the ground and could tell he was upset by the frown he wore. Draco rarely frowned. He sneered and mocked and smirked, but he only frowned when he was truly upset. He always became upset when he thought his things were being touched, and Ginny was his favorite play thing. "I told you that you should have nipped it in the bud."

Still frowning, he helped her up and she dusted herself off. "You look horrid," she said calmly.

"I have a migraine the size of Africa, of course I look 'horrid,'" he replied.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"'Horrid,'" he said sarcastically. "Pomfrey says I'll live and I was damn lucky you saved me."

Ginny shrugged, "I couldn't let your pretty face be any more scratched up than it already was."

"Thanks," he answered lazily. "But you should get to bed; you'll get caught out here all by yourself; either that or raped by the Boy Wonder."

Ginny sighed and pecked Draco on the cheek before heading to the dungeons.

Have I said it enough? I hate him. He ALWAYS does this to me. Damn him, damn him to hell! He just can't keep well enough away, he always has to come closer. I'm fucking cursed and he is the fucking reason!

::sighs:: As you can tell I'm not too lucky with things like this. All I wanted was to be left in the cold and not have to feel and he comes along with his warm touches and throwing emotions around like they were party favors. Like I didn't have enough problems without him coming around every six months spewing love and beauty. He thinks it is all about him, he thinks just because he was the Boy Who Lived he could do whatever he wanted. I have news for you, Harry Potter! It isn't all fucking about you!

He thinks he is so damn righteous he can just tell people to feel and they will. He thinks he is so damn god-like he can just love people and they will love him back. He thinks he is so fucking wonderful that everything will go his way just because he wants it to. It is unbelievable what he gets away with. It isn't fair and it isn't right.

I began to understand why Draco hated him so.

I hurt for a long time after that. A long, long time. I had a hard time letting go. I always have had a hard time letting go.

But, fortunately, that was what Shijin's ring helped me do.

Do you know how to paint hate? I do. Do you know how to paint hurt and pain and confusion and jealousy and want and desire and beauty and dreams and love and hope and anxiety and every other emotion known to man? I do. And I was going to.

Some people considered it graffiti. Some people considered it inspiration. Some people thought it ugly. Some people thought it beautiful. Others yet called it the worst thing that they ever seen; while others called it a masterpiece.

I called it me. That was what it was, a reflection of myself in the form of visual art. I called it my brain child. I called it my Pandora's Box. I called it my release. I called it my undoing. I called it my life. I called it my death. But mostly, I just called it me. It was named Fire and Ice.

As you might have guessed, it was a painting. But at that point in time, it was only a plan for a painting. It was a plan I kept secret from the whole school, Draco included. There was only one thing I could do, wait. I couldn't just have people watching me while I painted it, no, that wouldn't do any good at all. I would have to wait for the right time to construct it.

I would have to wait till after the Yule Ball. After the Yule Ball, during the break, it would be safe to do it.

Yes, I still planned on going to the Yule Ball. Though, no, I wouldn't go with Draco. He still had obligations to Pansy. Really I wasn't that sad about it, but it would be nice to go with someone I really wanted to go with for once. People asked me only because they knew Draco had to go with his "wife" but he still liked it for his "concubine" to go so he could at least look at her.

I had a lot of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors ask me actually, but I turned all of them down. Draco said I could only go with a Slytherin, one he approved of. Well you know what Draco? Fuck you too, I'll go with whoever I damn well please.

Weirdly enough, I actually ended up going with a Slytherin only because the boys from the other houses disgusted me so much. I ended up going with a seventh year by the name of Austin Nott. He was the older brother of Darron Nott, a boy in my year I really didn't like all that much. But Austin was quite good-looking and I could do worse than him. He seemed very surprised that I would accept him as my date. But I didn't see why, he was the Head Boy and the smartest boy in his year.

At any rate, I would have some one to lead me around the dance floor.