Of Death, Love, and Rebirth

1. Death. 01

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, JK Rowling’s. If for some reason, you feel that any part of my fic has been copied from somewhere else other than my creative imagination then please feel free to contact me for discussion. No money is being made from this (obviously), so keep the lettuce and tomatoes to yourselves. I mean it!

Of Death, Love, and Rebirth

Death. 01

Ginny sat underneath the giant willow beside the lake, reading a muggle novel she had borrowed from Hermione’s infinite library of resource books. She had finished her lunch earlier on, having fed much of it to the giant squid that resided in the lake. For some strange reason, the giant squid had taken an instant liking to her, whether it was her that it liked or the lunches that she brought for it, Ginny wasn’t sure. But at least one thing was for certain, the giant squid seemed to enjoy her lunch much more than Ginny herself, sometimes it’d even stretch a tentacle lazily out of the water for Ginny to shake.

She could see a few other students about the school grounds, mostly in pairs and partially covered by bushes and shrubs they had taken camouflage in. As she was settling herself more comfortably on the grass, ready to immerse herself once again in the book, a loud rustling noise paused her movements. Thinking it was another snogging couple, she was about to turn around and shoo them away when the loud rustling became louder, it was definitely not just a couple snogging. In fact, it sounded rather like a whole herd of animals, or perhaps people, trudging through the forest.

As if on cue, a group of black clad figures, a dozen or slightly more, sprung out from the low bushes at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest. Most of the students on the grounds hadn’t noticed the new arrivals, but one first year Ravenclaw stood in direct line of vision of the figures. Ginny tried to catch her eye and tell her to run away but she was frozen stiff with fear, staring at the figures with wide eyes.

Cursing quietly, Ginny picked herself up and strode over to the girl, blocking the black figures’ view of her. Through the corner of her mouth she whispered,
“Go get Dumbledore,” before giving the first year a firm shove toward the castle. Turning back around, she whipped out her wand and directed it at the figure in the center.

“Who are you? I demand you all to reveal yourselves!” she said, silently congratulating herself for keeping her voice steady. She could hear shouts and some murmurs behind her and knew that the other students had finally spotted their ‘guests’.

“They’re going to alarm everyone, silence them,” one of the black figures ordered. All at once the figures began to spread out, some running to the other side of the lake, others heading for the front door of the castle.

“Stop!” Ginny cried, as the hooded figures swept past her as if she were a mere garden statue. She lunged toward the nearest figure who sidestepped her easily.

“Silencio,” the figure said almost lazily. “Stupefy!” he cried, aiming his wand at a couple that had come out from the bushes.

Unable to use her voice, she once again threw herself at the figure while his wand was still aimed elsewhere. They landed on the ground in a heap, tumbling around, each trying to get the upper hand. Finally, in a burst of strength, the figure threw Ginny off him.

“Avada Kedavra!” a voice hissed. Ginny felt her stomach drop as she heard the words.

“No!” she silently screamed, before the world turned black.

~~~

Harry sat at the table in the far corner of the library staring intently at his hands, which were clasped tightly in front of him on the table. He willed himself not to look up at the expectant face situated directly opposite him, because he knew the moment he did, control would begin to seep away.

“Where’s Ron?” He winced as his voice came out high pitched and squeaky.

“He’s in the common room supervising,” Hermione answered vaguely, staring intently at Harry. “Harry, it’s not like you to shut yourself up like this. Usually, you’d be storming about thinking of ways to join the action,” she said softly, touching his arm in a gentle gesture.

Harry stared at Hermione’s pale hand gently grasping his arm, and felt his muscles tighten up involuntarily. “Look, the last time I stuck my nose in where it didn’t belong, Sirius died. I’m not going to go about pretending to be a hero while those around me die to save my acts of stupidity,” he said quietly, mentally forcing his eyes to look away from those slender fingers.

“Harry, you did what you thought was right, even Dumbledore admitted it was wrong of him to keep secrets from you. We’re all counting on you,” said Hermione, her brown eyes staring back at him in sincerity. Harry felt himself losing his grip on sanity; he leaned forward, his mind full of images of Hermione’s soft lips over his… “Especially Ginny,” Hermione added.

Harry snapped out of his daydream and blinked, focusing on her face. “Ginny?” he asked dumbly.

“Yes, Ginny’s been really worried about you this past week, but you won’t even talk to her. I saw her over by the lake on my way here, I think you owe her an apology,” Hermione said, her expression turning stern. Harry nearly groaned as reality set in; all he wanted to do was take Hermione and snog her senseless.

“I’m not in love with Ginny! I’m in love with YOU!” He wanted to shout at her; instead, he ran his hand through his hair and slumped back into the seat. “I’m fine, I just want to be alone for a while,” he said tiredly.

He walked over to the window and peered out at the forbidden forest, only turning back around when he heard the library door close. Sighing, he sat down on the floor limply. Why does everyone expect me to save the world? If only they knew, if only they knew that I was a mistake. I’m a hero because Voldemort made a mistake, if he had chosen Neville then I would be a nobody right now.

His stomach grumbled and he unconsciously looked up at the plate of sandwiches Hermione had brought in, sitting neatly on the table. Hermione. All sane thoughts told him to stay away from her, that she was his best friend’s girl and no good could come from his attraction. Perhaps that’s why he dwelled so frequently on the voice of insanity, Harry thought wryly as he took a bite of his sandwich. The voice of insanity that assured him it was natural to develop an attraction to Hermione, she was smart, she was pretty, she was direct, never playing games with you like Cho. Yet he knew that none of that mattered because even if she was none of those things he’d still love her. The numerous life and death experiences they had gone through together had forged a bond too thick to break, he couldn’t imagine a life without Hermione in it, it was simply unthinkable.

Making his way out of the library, Harry headed toward the direction of Gryffindor Tower, his face set into a determined grimace. A voice at the back of his mind vaguely told Harry that it was insane to tell Hermione about his feelings, that it would only ruin their friendship, but Harry pushed it away and let his insanity take over. It was now or never.

~~~

Hermione stepped into the common room tiredly, looking around for a familiar mop of red hair above the crowd of chatting students. Sure enough, she spotted him playing exploding snap with the boys, she watched as Ron made his way through the crowd toward her.

“How’s Harry?” he asked, as they walked over to the couches.

“Still won’t talk to anyone. I just don’t understand, he always tells us everything Ron, no matter what it is, but now it’s like he can’t even trust us,” Hermione said dejectedly.

“Let’s go see Hagrid, maybe he’ll be able to talk some sense into Harry,” Ron suggested.

“But you know we can’t Ron, we’re supposed to be supervising the first and second years, what if someone gets hurt?

“Hermione, don’t be a prat, they’ll be just fine without us,” Ron replied impatiently.

“Well what if Professor McGonagall catches us walking around while we’re on Prefect duties?”

“You’ve got a point there, let’s borrow Harry’s invisibility cloak then,” Ron said, warming up to the idea.

“Oh alright, but I still don’t like it,” Hermione agreed finally at the childish glee on Ron’s face.

They made their way up to the sixth year boys’ dormitory, Ron rummaging around in Harry’s trunk while Hermione sat on his bed. A gentle breeze swept in through the open window and she raised her head to meet it.

“Ow!”

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked, turning around from Harry’s trunk. Hermione was covering one of her eyes and wincing in pain.

“Something went into my eye,” she complained, rubbing her eyes.

“Don’t rub your eyes! It only makes it worse, here, let me take a look.” Ron walked over to where she was sitting on the bed and tilted her chin up, resting one hand beside her on the bed, he bent down to examine her eye.

Both of them were so focused, Ron on Hermione’s eye and Hermione on not blinking, that neither of them heard the slight creak as the door to the dormitory opened, admitting a black-haired boy.

Harry gaped at the scene before him, unwilling to believe his eyes, there in front of him were his two best friends snogging on his bed! Ron had one hand on her face and the other rested beside her lap, as her head tilted itself up to meet his lips.

He slowly backed up against the wall and let himself out quietly, limbs still numb from the shock coursing through him. As the numbness wore off, he began to feel the anger seep in, how could they, his two best friends not even bother to tell him that they were together? Even though everyone had known they’d eventually get together, he would have appreciated some notice. Some kind of warning so that he could prepare his crazy heart for that explosion of pain, to prepare his frozen limbs to carry him quickly and silently from that heartbreaking sight before him. Harry paused his thoughts as he realized he sounded like an excerpt from a bad romance novel. He shook his head, and his old English teacher had often commented on his lack of dramatics, he ought to write it all down and mail it to her.

He sighed at his lame attempts to redirect his crazy thoughts, the sight of his two best friends on his bed came back to focus and Harry found himself punching the stonewall violently. When he finally stopped due to the sharp pain traveling up his arm, his knuckles were already bloodied and swollen. He sank to the floor as a single moan escaped his lips, was he destined to lose every person that he dared to love? First his parents, then Sirius, and now Ron and Hermione had found solace in each other.

What about him? He was the great Harry Potter, hero of the wizarding world when he saved them from Voldemort. But when he tries to warn them of their impending doom, they treat him as a mental patient and suspect he is actually the dark heir himself. When would everyone stop judging him and allow him to live his own life? He could feel the pressure of being Harry Potter pressing down upon him, crushing him; he got up and made his way down the hall quickly. He had to find a place to be alone, somewhere where nobody could find him and judge him, or worse, hurt him.

Eventually he found himself in the entrance hall facing the suits of armor, briefly, the thought of kicking it in the shin flickered through his mind, but he decided that he didn’t want to risk the idea of being chased down the hallways by clanking metal. He heard the distant sound of a scream pierce the air and was about to go out onto the grounds to investigate when the great oak front doors of the castle were thrown open. By the time he had taken out his wand, one of the black-cloaked figures had raised his wand at Harry.

“Expelliarmus!” A blinding pain burst through Harry’s body as he was flung against the wall before his vision dimmed and darkness took over.

~~~

Ginny woke up with a splitting headache; every inch of her body was aching with the tightness of sore muscles. She pressed a hand to her ribs and immediately hissed in pain, she was sure she had broken a few ribs, though she couldn’t recall when she had been hit. She felt an odd sort of nervousness as she slowly opened her eyes, squinting her eyes to focus on her surroundings. The blurry image of a large room with white walls and a window to the right greeted her. She rubbed her eyes a few times and blinked, but still her vision was hazy as if she were seeing everything through a thick fog. Another strange thing besides her eyes was her body; it felt heavier and more bulky and she had a hard time maneuvering her limbs to her desire.

Thoroughly irritated, she got up slowly and eased herself along the wall of the room in search of the bathroom. She found it with some difficulty and stepped inside. Immediately there was a scream, Ginny jumped back in surprise.

“What are you doing here? You have your own bathroom next door! Why, if you weren’t a patient, I’d report you straight away Mister!” a shrill voice cried, shoving her out the door.

“Sorry miss,” Ginny managed to get out before the door was slammed in her face. Ginny frowned, her voice sounded rather hoarse, deep, like that of a man’s. Her eyebrows knotted together as she began wondering why the lady had called her ‘mister’, and why there were separate bathrooms for patients. Shrugging, she made her way next door and pushed it open, going to the sink to splash some water onto her face. As the cool liquid spread over her flushed cheeks she breathed a sigh and looked up at herself in the mirror.

She squinted slightly and leaned closer to the mirror, strange, she could have sworn a tall figure with black hair was staring back at her. Then it struck her, Harry!

“Harry? What are you doing here?” There was no reply. She tilted her head to the right; the figure tilted their head to the right. She leaned back and waved, the figure leaned back and waved. A wave of shock passed through her aching muscles, numbing it for a moment. Making her way back to her bed, her hands felt on top of the bedside drawer in search of something familiar, a gnawing suspicion in the pit of her stomach. At last, her hands closed over cool glass, using both hands, she found the rims of the glasses and pushed it onto her face.

The world came into clear focus immediately and Ginny stared at her surroundings for a moment. The white walls, and white beds that lined the room clearly indicated she was in a medical clinic. She looked around for any familiar features but found none, so it couldn’t be the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, could it be she was at St Mungo’s?

“Oh goodness you’re awake Mr Potter!” a female voice cried, Ginny whipped around at the mention of Potter. Could it be that Harry…

“Are you talking to me?” she asked tentatively, backing away slightly from the short, smiling woman in front of her.

“Well I don’t see another Harry Potter here, do you?” the woman replied pleasantly, beaming. She steered Ginny back to her bed and sat her down, proceeding to take her temperature and examine her bandages to see how the ribs were mending. “You had some rather nasty injuries, Mr Potter, but don’t worry, another two days and we’ll have them fixed right up.”

“What happened? Why am I here?” Ginny asked, feeling a headache coming on.

“Oh it was terrible, you must still be in shock to have forgotten what happened,” the mediwitch replied, tears glistening in her eyes. “Hogwarts was attacked by Death Eaters! We’ve got over three dozen injured students here at St Mungo’s, but I heard one poor soul didn’t make it,” her voice cracked at the last words and Ginny felt her stomach twist into a knot.

“W-who was it?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“It was one of the Weasleys! Ginny, I think her name was,” the mediwitch replied. “She’s a friend of yours isn’t she? Oh I’m so sorry!”

“G-Ginny Weasley?” Ginny repeated, as her legs collapsed from under her. She sat down on the hospital bed heavily and shook her head in denial. “When did this happen? How long have I been in hospital for?” Ginny demanded.

“You’ve been unconscious for a week now, I heard the funeral is today, at the small Weasley family graveyard.”

“I have to go, I have to go now,” Ginny muttered, getting up again. The mediwitch firmly pushed her back.

“No no, I couldn’t possibly let you out of the hospital in these conditions Mr Potter, you’re still in a critical state. Besides, the funeral’s already started, I doubt you’d make it,” she said with concern.

“I have to go! I’m not-“ Ginny paused, telling the mediwitch that she was not Harry Potter but Ginny Weasley was just like asking for a life sentence in the psychiatric ward. “I have to see Ginny one last time, she was a very dear friend of mine. Please…Judy,” Ginny pleaded, reading the nametag the mediwitch wore on her uniform.

“I-I, oh all right, but I warn you, if your wounds get worse, you have only yourself to blame Mr Potter,” the mediwitch said sternly. Then more gently, “I’ll ask them to arrange a portkey for you, you couldn’t possibly travel by floo in this state.”

After thanking her profusely, Ginny followed the mediwitch to the ground floor and waited as the mediwitch obtained a portkey from an elderly man with silver white hair.

“Here you are Mr Potter, this will take you right to the entrance. Please extend my condolences to the Weasleys,” the mediwitch said, pressing a box into Ginny’s hand.

“Thank you, I will,” Ginny replied, quickly sliding the top of the box open and touching the green stone inside it. A pull began from her navel and she felt herself being sucked into the stone. As soon as the feeling had come, it went, leaving Ginny stumbling to regain her bearings.

She was standing outside a large cemetery with row upon row of headstones; it was familiar to her, as this was where her grandparents’ ashes were buried. It was the Weasley tradition to be cremated after death, Ginny’s stomach dropped at the thought of her body being cremated. Hurriedly, she made her way through the rows of headstones looking right and left for any sign of a gathering. Finally, near the last few rows, she saw a small group of people gathered to the left. Most of them had the telltale red hair of the Weasleys; she hurried over.

“Harry! You’re awake! What are you doing here, you should be at St Mungo’s!” Ron cried as he spotted Ginny. He came forward to greet her but Ginny brushed past him and through the crowd. What met her eyes made her knees weak and she felt herself fall to the ground, kneeling. In front of her, stood a large urn ready to be deposited in the ground.

“No! No, this can’t be happening, how could I have died?” Ginny cried, the tears spilling from her eyes.

“Harry, I know it’s hard for you to accept, but Ginny’s gone, she isn’t coming back,” Ron said as gently as he could, trying to pull Ginny up. Nobody had noticed Ginny’s slip of the tongue in the mournful atmosphere surrounding the group.

“No! You don’t understand! I’m not dead! I’m Ginny!” she cried, looking into the eyes of everyone present. Her mother looked away as Ginny met her eyes, in her hands was a large black and white photo frame with her picture, silently, Ginny studied her portrait; trademark freckles and a slightly toothy grin, wild hair that frizzed at the ends and tied down in two plaits. She could feel everyone’s curious glances at her, wondering if perhaps their Harry was in shock. With a frustrated growl, she grabbed the photo frame from her mother and smashed it to the ground, listening as the glass shattered into a thousand pieces. There was dead silence as everyone stared at her, horrified.

“He’s probably in shock,” Hermione spoke up, glancing nervously at Ron.

“Yeah, he doesn’t mean any of this, he probably woke up and heard about Ginny’s death and went into shock. It’s all right. We should probably get him back to St Mungo’s,” Ron agreed, looking at his family pleadingly.

Everyone slowly nodded their heads in agreement, shooting sideway glances at Ginny when they thought she wasn’t looking.

“We know you loved her very much,” Molly Weasley said, patting Ginny on the shoulder as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Defeated, Ginny could do nothing else but watch as they finished the ceremony and her ashes were buried up and her marble headstone planted, her name gleaming in the sun.

Author Notes: This was more of a prologue than anything really, so sorry to those who are disappointed at the lack of d/g interaction, it shall begin next chapter, I promise =) meanwhile, just absorb the setting for a moment and do some speculations as to what twists I might have in store =)

My loyal readers would know that I usually don’t like playing around with other ships, I take my d/g shipping very seriously and am usually too busy to explore any other ships. But the ships mentioned in the keywords are going to play a vital role in my story, so anyone who doesn’t have an open mind may find themselves in a tight situation.

I will just clarify that this fic will contain the following ships: Draco/Ginny, Harry/Hermione, Ron/Hermione, Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny. Just which of these will be the final pairings, which of these will be unrequited loves, and which of these are teasers, I leave it to your creative imaginations. Saying anything more will spoil the story =P

This story is not meant to be long, I’ve planned it for four chapters, five at the most, so we’ll be finished in no time, no tedious waiting periods for lazy authors to update while you sit on the edge of your seat in suspense. I’d appreciate feedback though, just so I know whether I actually have an audience for this and how well this type of fic will go down with the reader population.

Though I love playing with clichés, I’m trying to keep this one quite free of cliché, all of the stuff in here has been taken from my creative imagination with no inspiration from other fics.

2. Possession. 02

Possession. 02

Ginny blinked her eyes, rubbed them with the back of her hand, and then blinked again. There, harnessed to the coaches were black, horse-like creatures with giant, leathery bat wings. The nearest one had its head turned toward her, its pupil-less eyes seemingly staring at her. So the Thestrals were real! It had been heart-stopping riding on one of those when they were invisible, but Ginny was glad she hadn’t been able to see them at the time, or she’d never have found the courage to climb on one!

But why could she see them? She had never witnessed a death, and then she remembered, she was dead; the thought dampened her spirits as she climbed into the carriage with Ron, Hermione and Neville. It was just her luck that the attack had happened right after her O.W.L.s and consequently she’d had the whole summer holiday to adjust to being Harry Potter. She had felt slightly better about returning to Hogwarts, and the opportunity of seeing her friends and Hagrid again, but then she had realized she couldn’t possibly confide in them about her situation. Nobody would believe her tale and she’d end up in St Mungo’s for the mentally insane.

She leaned against the window frame and looked outside at the grounds of Hogwarts, what could she do to get herself out of this? Was there a way to get out of this? She was dead for one thing, even if she somehow escaped from Harry’s body, she’d never be able to go back to being Ginny Weasley, and another, the point that puzzled her the most: where had Harry gone? Why was it that out of all people, her spirit had chosen to find sanctuary within Harry’s body? The questions tumbled along one after the other, too fast to be answered, but lingering long enough for their point to be absorbed. By the time their carriage had reached the great oak front doors of the castle, Ginny’s mind was in turmoil.

“Harry, Harry!” Hermione’s voice called.

“What?” Ginny answered reluctantly, still trying to get used to being called ‘Harry’.

“We’re here, let’s go mate,” Ron answered, giving her a rough shove toward the coach door.

“Ron, stop that! That’s no way to treat a lady,” Ginny said, then paused as both Ron and Hermione stared back at her in surprise. Neville had lost his toad again and was too busy searching under the seats for Trevor to notice the sudden silence. “I – I just…let’s go,” Ginny finished lamely; she quickly stepped out of the coach and rushed toward the castle entrance with the crowd.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Are you trying to get yourself in trouble? She mentally scolded herself, trying to push her way toward the entrance.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the great Scarhead, Potter,” a voice drawled from behind her. It took her a moment to realize the words had been directed at her, she turned around, desperately thinking of what Harry would say in such a situation.

“Well, if it isn’t ferret boy,” Ginny said, putting on an exaggerated smile. “How’s your father enjoying Azkaban?”

Malfoy’s smug expression soured and he glared at Ginny with steely eyes. “Better watch your back Potter, I’m going to make your life hell,” he warned dangerously.

Ginny feigned a shiver. “I can’t wait to see you try,” she retorted, before pushing her way forward through the crowd.

Once inside the Great Hall, Ginny forced herself to keep facing the front of the room where the First Years were being sorted into their respective Houses. She could feel Ron and Hermione’s worried glances in her direction regularly, and also curious stares from the other students of Hogwarts. As steaming hot cuisine magically appeared on the table before her, and Ginny reached out to fill her plate, grabbing a bit of everything as if she were attacking something particularly nasty.

“Harry…Harry!” a voice to her left startled her.

“What!” she snapped waspishly still annoyed at having to answer to ‘Harry’.

“S-sorry Harry, it’s just that Trevor’s gone and jumped into your pumpkin juice, could you fish him back out?” Neville asked, his face visibly paler at Ginny’s outburst.

“Here,” she said shortly, roughly handing her goblet to Neville so that drops of pumpkin juice dribbled down onto the table.

“Thanks,” Neville whispered uncertainly, shooting her a frightened look.

Ginny waited impatiently for Seamus to finish with the potatoes; the sooner she ate, the sooner she could go back to the Common Room for some alone time to think.

“Hey, what do you think is wrong with Harry?” Ginny heard Dean Thomas whisper.

“Well, he’s got to be really upset hasn’t he? Ginny was like family to him, and now he’s lost her, burned and buried, never to return,” Seamus Finnigan replied in his Irish lilt. Ginny’s stomach gave a lurch and she dropped her fork. Quickly, she bent down to pick it up, aware of both boys watching her from the corner of their eyes.

“Yeah s’pose so,” Dean returned. “Do you think he’s cursed? I mean, everyone who is important to him have died haven’t they? First his parents, and then Sirius Black his criminal godfather, and now Ginny Weasley.”

“In my opinion, I’d say you shouldn’t talk about things that don’t concern you,” Hermione said, giving the pair a stern glare. “Hurry up and finish your dinner, the food’s getting cold,” she said in a voice that didn’t allow for objections.

Obediently the two boys shut up and returned to their food, Ginny gave Hermione a grateful look and went back to her dinner.

~~~

Ginny raced down the hallway toward the toilets, her bladder felt like it was about to burst. She pressed her thighs together and sped up her pace, she had one hand on the door to the bathroom when a cold voice stopped her.

“Potter, I didn’t realize you had a sex change, I believe the boys’ toilets are further down the hallway,” the voice said, as Malfoy’s sneering face came into view.

Ginny stared up at the sign on the door in horror and realized she had been about to enter the girls’ bathroom. Cursing silently, she turned around and nonchalantly made her way down the hallway, not bothering to acknowledge Malfoy at all. When she had safely entered the bathroom, she quickly locked herself in a cubicle and relieved herself, all the way making sure her eyes were directed at the ceiling.

As Ginny walked out of the bathroom, she peered carefully from left to right to make sure Malfoy wasn’t still there waiting to taunt her. When she was sure the coast was clear, she made a dash for it, turning the corner to the Transfiguration wing, she paused as her eyes rested on a familiar figure. A few feet in front of her, leaning casually against the stonewall was Malfoy, his arms were crossed in front of his chest and his eyes were staring silently back at her as if examining her.

“You’re not Potter are you?” he asked suddenly, Ginny let out a soft gasp at the sudden question.

“What are you talking about?” Ginny snapped, waving an impatient hand at him in hopes of stalling for time. What could she possibly say? That no, she wasn’t Harry Potter, in fact, she just happened to be Ginny Weasley, a deceased member of the Weasley clan?

He did not bother replying, his posture remained casual but his eyes were gazing intently at Ginny, ready to scrutinize every minute detail.

“Stop it, you’re creeping me out,” she said, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

“Then answer my question.”

“There’s no point,” she replied. “What do you want me to say? Would you believe me if I told you I wasn’t Harry? And then again, even if you did believe me, there’s nothing you can do to help.”

“You’ve been acting completely nutters ever since you got back to Hogwarts, it’s like you’re not even trying to hide the fact that you’re pretending to be Potter,” he drawled, his cold eyes still trained on her.

“Well maybe it’s because I want someone to notice, I want someone to realize that I’m not Harry without me saying so. If I go around telling everyone I’m not Harry, I’ll just earn myself a one-way ticket to St Mungo’s,” Ginny replied, irritation and despair seeping into her voice.

So Malfoy wasn’t her first option for a confidant, but it certainly looked like he would be the only option.

“You sound like you don’t want to be Potter,” Draco drawled, a slight trace of confusion showing as his eyebrows tightened slightly. Any hopes of being understood flew out the window.

“Of course I don’t want to be Harry! You think I asked to be stuck in Harry’s body? Like it’s such great fun to be someone else, maybe for one day, but not forever! Which is what looks to be the case at the moment,” Ginny replied.

“Stuck in Potter’s body?” Now the confusion was evident, his eyebrows knotted tightly together. “Who are you?”

Ginny watched him for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell him the truth. “Ginny Weasley,” she said shortly, unconsciously backing away a step.

He stared at her for a moment before giving out a derisive laugh. “Ginny Weasley? That’s good, not bad at all. Now, tell me who you really are. What are you doing at Hogwarts and why are you pretending to be Potter?”

“You don’t seem to understand. This-“ she pointed to her body, “is Harry Potter’s body, the genuine article, I’m not pretending to be Harry to infiltrate Hogwarts or anything. Get your mind out of the gutter Malfoy, I’m not some Death Eater the Dark Lord sent.”

“So…you’re not using polyjuice potion?” Draco asked, looking her up and down skeptically.

“Poly-what?” she asked, for some reason it sounded oddly familiar. “No, I’m not using anything.” As if an opening had been made, Ginny found herself pouring out the events of the past few weeks, talking fast and taking hurried breaths, she narrated her bizarre tale to Malfoy. For his part, Malfoy was unusually subdued, listening to her patiently, occasionally interrupting her to ask for specifics and then casting her measuring looks. By the time she had concluded her tale, they were outside the castle, walking steadily side by side around the lake.

“So that’s it,” she concluded, shrugging her shoulders dramatically.

“Hum, interesting,” was Malfoy’s only reply, before he turned around and headed back toward the castle.

“Hey, do you believe me? Or are you on your way to send me off to St Mungo’s?” Ginny called after him. He turned around, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“I believe you,” he said finally, before turning back around.

“Finally! Someone who believes me!” she exclaimed to no one in particular, then paused as she watched Malfoy making his way steadily away from her. “Hey! What are you doing then? Aren’t you going to help me?”

“Help you?” he drawled arrogantly, not even bothering to turn around.

“Yes, help me. Make people believe I’m Ginny!” she insisted, sprinting to catch up to him.

“Are you insane Weasley? I don’t have time for your petty problems, besides, I’m in no hurry to be admitted into St Mungo’s myself,” Draco replied evenly. With a wave, he quickened his pace, and had disappeared into the castle before Ginny had a chance to stop him.

Ginny stood silently for a few moments, trying to collect her thoughts. She had thought that if Malfoy could believe her, then there was a possibility she could convince others, but Malfoy’s admission had blown out the spark of hope. Taking a deep breath, she made her decision, Malfoy was going to help her whether he liked it or not.

~~~

“Malfoy! Fancy seeing you here,” Ginny said innocently, stopping beside the table Malfoy was sitting at. Her nervous, darting eyes betrayed her casualness, she had spent an entire week before a chance had come up for her to corner Malfoy alone. He seemed to be permanently attached to Crabbe and Goyle, the three of them moving along the hallways of Hogwarts as one, Malfoy the leader, and the other two walking-boulders to knock others out of the way. At the moment, Crabbe and Goyle were down in the kitchens, no doubt busy stuffing themselves with food, and Ginny had jumped at the opportunity to follow Malfoy to the library.

“Weasley, have you no sense of decency? You’ve been following me around for the past week, and not at all discreetly at that,” Malfoy drawled, glancing up at the book in his hands with an expression of mild annoyance on his face.

She was about to reach out and slap him, but managed to steady herself. Calm down Ginny, you need him to help you remember? “I want you to help me, make people believe that I’m Ginny,” she said, calmly staring into his eyes.

“You must be insane,” he snorted, giving her a dismissive wave. Sighing deeply, Ginny decided that verbal communication was useless against him. She reached out and grabbed his collar roughly, hauling him out of his seat and slamming him into the nearest bookshelf. She gave a half smirk as he glared at her while trying not to wince in pain.

“Listen here Malfoy, I’ve got three inches and about ten pounds on you, so if you don’t do as I say, I will make sure you meet your end very unpleasantly. And believe me, I’ve had plenty of practice sessions with my brothers,” she said smugly, literally breathing down his neck.

His pale complexion had visibly whitened even more, whether from pain or from fright, Ginny wasn’t sure, and nor did she care, as long as he agreed to help her. When he made no reply, she continued. “I’m sorry, I don’t you think grasp what I’m saying, shall I provide a little demonstration?” she warned, giving him a nasty smirk.

“On the contrary, I believe you should let go of my collar now before I decide hex you with something horrible,” Malfoy replied evenly. It was only then that Ginny realized the hard thing poking into her ribs was Malfoy’s wand. Ginny gave him a sweet smile.

“I could just as easily break your wrist if you dare to try,” she retorted. They stayed in that position for at least an entire minute; their eyes locked with each other’s, neither willing to give in. At last Malfoy sighed and spoke.

“Could we deal with this in a civilized manner? We can’t talk in the library; there are too many people around. Meet me at the back of the castle in two hours, we’ll talk then,” he said, gently prying Ginny’s hands away from his collar. She gave him a suspicious look. “I’ll be there,” he assured her, before moving away between the shelves of books.

Ginny sat in the Gryffindor common room waiting impatiently for the two hours to pass before her meeting with Malfoy. She reluctantly joined in on a game of exploding snap with the sixth year boys, putting Harry’s quick Seeker reflexes to good use.

“Geehz Harry, you’re getting too good at this,” Ron mumbled, after the cards exploded in their faces.

“I don’t see why you two are wasting good time playing games when you could be doing something useful like studying,” Hermione piped in from the corner she had wedged herself and a large book into. Ron rolled his eyes and made a face at Ginny, carefully turning his back to Hermione so that she wouldn’t see. Ginny laughed and shook her head.

They played a few more rounds until it was time for Ginny to go and she excused herself by saying she had left something in the potions dungeons.

“But we didn’t have potions today, Harry,” Ron called after her. She ignored him and scrambled out of the portrait hole, hurrying out to the back of the castle. She waited impatiently for a full twenty minutes before Malfoy sauntered into view, a lazy, disinterested expression on his face.

“Weasley,” Draco began before Ginny could open her mouth. “There’s no way I can help you to make people believe that you’re not Potter. So I suggest you just forget the idea, keep pretending to be Potter and let it go at that,” he said, turning around to go. Ginny placed a hand on his shoulder and roughly pulled him back.

“No! I’m not going to give up just like that!” she exclaimed, tears of frustration lining her eyes. “You believe me don’t you? Then it can’t be impossible for others to believe me too.”

“Weasley, it is impossible. The idea is much too farfetched for anyone’s liking. Don’t you remember all the newspaper articles about Potter losing his mind in the past few years? People will draw on those articles as an explanation for your crazy declarations,” Malfoy tried to explain.

“But what about you? How did you know I wasn’t Harry? Just because I went into the girls’ bathroom? ‘You’re not Potter’ isn’t the usual conclusion people would draw,” Ginny insisted.

“That’s because Potter is my worse enemy, you’d think I would know my worst enemy wouldn’t you?”

“Why? If even Ron and Hermione haven’t noticed, and they’re his best friends!” Ginny pleaded.

“Yeah, well when your best friends just happen to be lowlife slugs who should be banned from the wizarding world, it’s no wonder,” Draco drawled, beginning to feel irritated at Ginny’s nagging. Before he could dwell further on that thought, he felt a heavy fist connect with the side of his jaw, sending him stumbling back a few paces.

“Don’t. Ever. Say that about Ron and Hermione. You’re the scum of the wizarding world,” Ginny hissed, seething with rage. She felt like nothing more than to wrap her hands around Malfoy’s neck and squeeze.

“Then why are you asking the ‘scum of the wizarding world’ for help? Where’s your precious friends when you need them?” Draco demanded, his left hand gingerly rubbing his bruised jaw. “Keep away from me Weasley, don’t get me involved with your problems. And don’t speak to me in public, I’ve got a reputation to maintain.” He walked away, his robes billowing behind him as a gust of wind swept his hair into his eyes.

Feeling indignant at being treated like a child, and at the same time guilty for punching him, Ginny stood looking after him as he walked away. After a moment’s hesitation, she caught up to him and grabbed his wrist, making him pause his stride to look at her. She held up her hand to caress his jaw, gently skimming it to see the extent of the injury, her other hand going into her pocket to fetch her wand.

“Hold still,” she said gently, as Malfoy attempted to move away. She muttered a semi-complex healing spell, feeling Malfoy’s soft breath on the side of her neck. She watched as the bruise slowly faded away, leaving Malfoy’s jaw as unmarked and pale as it had been before. She stepped back and let her hand drop to her side. Malfoy was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face, as if he was not aware of her existence, yet at the same time, her existence was all that held his attention.

She waved at hand in front of his face curiously; immediately, he snapped back to attention.

“Get away from me,” he snapped, slapping her hand away and walking off at a determined pace.

~~~

For the next few days, Ginny faithfully cornered Malfoy around Hogwarts, each time uttering the same phrase: “Make people believe I’m Ginny.” His customary response was for her to get lost and that he had a reputation to uphold. Very soon, the students at Hogwarts began to whisper about Harry Potter’s strange new behavior. The way he was often caught talking in hushed whispers with Draco Malfoy, and how he was often seen almost clinging to his Slytherin nemesis.

Not long after the rumors began to spread, Ginny found herself cornered by Ron and Hermione one night just before dinner, in a deserted corridor on the fourth floor.

“Harry, we need to talk,” Hermione began, casting Ron a worried look.

“Yeah, you’ve heard what everyone’s been saying about you and Malfoy,” Ron added in an annoyed tone.

“What have they been saying?” Ginny replied nonchalantly.

“That you’re clinging to him and following him all around Hogwarts. You’ve barely spent any time with us at all,” Ron replied heatedly, gesturing to Hermione and himself. “What’s wrong with you? You hate Malfoy, remember?”

“Even if I tell you what’s going on you won’t believe me,” Ginny insisted.

“How do you know before you’ve even tried?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, try us,” Ron retorted.

“Fine, alright, fine! I’m Ginny, I’ve been stuck in Harry’s body for the past month and a half, happy?” Ginny snapped, glaring at Ron with all the ferocity she could muster.

Ron looked taken aback for a moment, his jaw hanging open, and then he laughed. “Hermione, did you hear that? He’s not Harry, he said. I don’t believe this.” He gave Ginny a wary look.

“Do you think we should get him examined? Perhaps he hit his head during the accident,” Hermione suggested.

“I suppose,” Ron said reluctantly. “He’s probably so upset over Ginny and wants to bring her back so much, he’s lost a screw.”

“Maybe,” Hermione replied doubtfully.

“See? I told you you wouldn’t believe me! Just leave me alone, you don’t understand.” She crouched down and put her hands over her ears, feeling frustrated at the world. She could hear Ron and Hermione having a hushed conversation before the faint sound of retreating footsteps, then a distant laugh. A laugh? Ginny raised her head in search of the person laughing. To her left a little way off stood Malfoy, holding his middle and laughing rather excessively.

“Oh that was hilarious, I told you your brother is hopeless,” he said in between laughs. “Tell me, is he usually this brainless?”

“Shut up Malfoy! You’re no help either!” Ginny yelled, before stomping her foot and brushing past him roughly.

She let out a yell of frustration before making her way up to Gryffindor Tower, unable to remember where she’d been heading for and why.

“Weasley, hey Weasley,” Draco’s voice chased her up the staircase. “Calm down or you’ll miss dinner. Merlin knows you can’t afford to pass up a free meal.”

Ginny paused in mid stride and turned around dramatically; mustering all her resolve, she managed to place a smile on her face. “Slither back to your common room like you’re so apt at doing Malfoy, oh, and I think your hair just grew a shade darker, time to pull out the bleach hmm?” she said in an airy voice before continuing up the stairs.

“I do not bleach my hair!” Was the witty retort that met her ears. Shaking her head, she ignored his comment and skipped over the false step on the staircase.

“I really don’t care, Malfoy. Right now, the only thing I’m concerned about is who can tell me what is going on,” Ginny replied, her frustration from moments ago seeping back.

“Are you so sure I can’t?” Draco’s drawling voice teased. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what he was playing at. “You’ll have to take a trip to the Slytherin common room though.”

“If I go to the Slytherin common room with you, you’ll be able to tell me what’s been happening to me?” she asked, looking at him skeptically.

“Perhaps, but you won’t find out unless you come,” he answer cryptically. She frowned and cocked an eyebrow at him, she tried to catch his eye but he was determinedly looking elsewhere, as if the bare walls surrounding them were fascinating in the extreme. She smirked to herself; he was nervous, always a good sign.

“Well? Let’s go,” she said, looking at him expectantly.

He remained still for another second before turning around abruptly and leading the way to the dungeons. Ginny followed him until he stopped in front of a bare stretch of stone wall, leaning forward, he mumbled something in a low voice.

“Playing Chinese Whispers with the wall Malfoy?” she said with a grin. “My, aren’t we lacking in the friends department?”

The stone wall in front of him opened up and he walked in, but not before throwing Ginny a glare. Holding her breath, she followed Draco inside, there was immediate chaos in the common room as four or five Slytherins present jumped to their feet snarling dangerously at the intruder. Luckily for Ginny, most of the Slytherins were at dinner.

“What’s he doing here?”

“Who let him in?”

Draco turned around and beckoned for Ginny to stand beside him. “He’s going to be my guest this evening, nobody is to touch him,” he commanded, looking around the room and staring down anyone who dared to protest. Then he turned to Crabbe and Goyle. “Make sure nobody comes into our dormitory.” The two towering brutes nodded their heads and watched as Draco led Harry Potter down to their chambers.

It wasn’t until the door was safely closed behind them that Ginny released the breath she had been holding. “That was close! I totally forgot about being seen by the other Slytherins, oh no, Ron’s going to kill me when he hears about this!”

“Stop fretting Weasley,” Draco replied, standing in front of his writing desk and starting to sort through a pile of thick, dusty books sitting on the ebony surface.

Thinking she could worry about it later, Ginny slowly made her way across the room until she was standing right beside him. A quick skim of the books showed them all to have to do with body possession, dark magic or complex transfiguration charms. Obviously he had been lying about how much he didn’t care for her problem.

“So you are worried about me,” she teased. “I’m starting to see you in a whole new light.”

“Don’t flatter yourself Weasley, I’m just curious about this phenomena,” he snapped.

“Sure, whatever makes you feel better.” She grinned cheekily as he turned away from her in disgust. Peeking over his shoulder, she glimpsed his pink cheeks with surprise. Was Draco Malfoy blushing? Scowling, he carried the pile of heavy books over to his bed and dumped them in the center before sitting down cross-legged and leaning on a pillow.

Ginny took the time to watch him; often, when the name ‘Draco Malfoy’ was mentioned, his pointy, sneering face was what came to mind. There was very little else that Ginny could remember about this arrogant, stuck up prick, considering everything you needed to know was in that cold sneer. A closer look at his features made Ginny realize why she had always thought of him as ‘delicate’ – his mouth was custom built for sneering, his lips that thinned out at the sides and looked delightfully swollen as if he had just been in a passionate kiss with someone. His delicate build further defined his broad shoulders, his slim frame not quite thin enough to be considered ‘lanky’ like her brother, Ron. All in all, he could almost be considered…’pretty’, she grinned at the thought and noticed Draco looking at her oddly.

Draco had settled himself into the pillows as much as possible, waiting for Ginny to approach and start firing questions at him. When Ginny didn’t follow, he looked up at her and waited expectantly for her to snap out of her daze, he gestured to the other side of the bed. “Get on.”

Ginny hesitated, what exactly was ‘get on’ supposed to mean? Well, that would really depend on the situation of course, but when Draco Malfoy invites a girl to his bed, it didn’t really leave that much room for thought. She could feel herself getting flushed as she looked at him shyly.

When he finally realized what the little Weasley was thinking, Draco’s pale face flushed with indignation and fury. “Grow a brain Weasley, what the hell can I do to you?”

Ginny looked at him in confusion, then blushed and smiled sheepishly at him. “Okay, so I forgot that I’m in a man’s body, but what’s a girl supposed to think when a guy invites her to get on his bed?” she insisted. She walked over and perched herself on the other side of the bed, her legs dangling off the edge.

“There are some questions I need to ask you. Since you’ve been in Potter’s body, have you had any blackouts? Any empty blanks in your memory?”

“What? Like I may have been possessed?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you are the possessor,” he drawled boredly.

“Oh well, I suppose that’s true. Anyway, to answer your question, no, I remember everything that’s happened since I woke up in Harry’s body.”

Draco nodded his head slowly and picked up three books from the pile on his bed and set them on the floor. “I’ve been researching Dark Magic and I think we can pretty much rule that out. With your experience with the Dart Arts, I doubt very much that you wouldn’t notice anything if it were Dark Magic. And besides, even if you didn’t, Potter’s scar would have been able to detect it.

She nodded her head in agreement. “Good thinking. So, what’s our next guess?”

He shrugged briefly and threw her a book. “Start researching.”

~~~

It had started out as a slight sense of discomfiture hovering around the edges of her awareness. Prompting her to look around cautiously, which then led to her catching his gray eyes staring intensely at her. Though she wanted badly to ask what exactly he was staring at, she did not want to close up the tiny opening in his guard that had opened up for her that night. Biting her tongue on her curiosity, she looked determinedly at the book she was holding; looking, but not comprehending. Finally, she decided the matter wouldn’t wait any longer.

“You’re not gay are you?” she asked pointedly.

Though the intense look on his face hinted that his mind was in a far away place, he snapped back to reality rather quickly. “What! Of course not! What gave you that idea?” he snapped angrily.

“You’ve been staring at me – Harry – for the past hour,” Ginny accused, not really sure she was ready for this conversation.

“I have?” Draco shrugged. “I was just thinking about your situation.” A smooth lie from a smooth liar, Ginny thought.

“I knew something was different about you. The way you paid such close attention to Harry’s behavior, taking interest in my situation. A funny thought just struck me, I’m sure you’ll forgive me sharing it with you. I may be wrong, but … you’re taking an awful lot of interest in Harry Potter’s matters.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Just as I said on the first day back at Hogwarts, I will make Potter’s life hell.”

“By helping me, you are indirectly helping Harry. I doubt it was just an oversight on your behalf.”

“I don’t have to help you, you know?” he drawled calmly. She brushed his threat aside.

“I don’t need you to explain it to me you know. I could come up with an educated guess all by myself,” she offered. He raised an eyebrow and cross his arms, waiting for her theory. “You were following my every move because you thought I was Harry. A bit obsessively I might add, if you even followed me to the toilet. Maybe you were looking for a way to get Harry into trouble, but then, there are many more efficient ways of sneaking. Here’s another thought - and I speak from personal experience: You’ve been obsessed with him ever since you were little, growing up to hear how great he was. Then when you came to Hogwarts, he turned down your offer of friendship; you despised him because he was everything you wanted to be. You realized that he was what you had always wanted to be, admired and respected. So you observed him closely, wanting to understand just what it was that attracted people to him and their admiration of him. So tell me Malfoy, have you found the answer yet?”

He was quiet for a long moment, looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. “Perceptive,” he acknowledged, nodding his head shortly.

“I could help you in your quest,” Ginny offered generously, giving him an impish smile. “For example…want to know the answer to the boxers or briefs question now?”

His eyes flickered for a moment and his eyebrows rose even higher, but he made no reply. Shrugging, she got up and pulled down her pants to show him.

“Weasley, you do realize you’re flashing your body to me in public, right?” he asked, his voice slightly tight.

“Wrong, I’m flashing Harry’s body to you, it’s not my body, so who cares? Besides, you’ve got Crabbe and Goyle stationed outside not to let your dorm mates in, I wouldn’t exactly call this place ‘public’. Incidentally, I’ve gone through Harry’s clothes at least a dozen times, and every time I see them, they grow more distasteful. I’m going to start borrowing your clothes, you have the same build as Harry.” She smiled at Draco sweetly.

“Excuse me? I’m not lending you anything.” Ginny ignored his words and began rummaging through his drawers, pulling out a pair of underwear.

“Well what do you know? You’re the same size as Harry,” she exclaimed, swinging his underwear proudly around one finger. He snatched it back almost desperately and steered her away from his trunk.

“Get your hands away from my clothes!”

“Don’t be stingy, Draco. I’ll give you a kiss in return,” she joked, leaning over his shoulder to face him.

Had he turned his head perhaps two seconds later, she’d have missed his mouth. As it were, their lips met for a brief moment before they sprung apart, staring at each other with wild eyes.

Ginny took a deep breath and put a hand over her fast racing heart. That wasn’t supposed to happen, that wasn’t supposed to happen. The chant ran through her brain repeatedly until she couldn’t stand it. On impulse, she stalked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders, forcefully pulling him toward her. It was the last thing she remembered as darkness once more enclosed her.

Draco watched as Harry’s face moved in, the green eyes half closed, hiding a sense of determination. He knew he should stop her, call out to her or even push her away, but his limbs would not respond. Their lips were so close that he could feel the breath, warm and moist against his mouth. He dazedly noted the faint sprinkle of stubble around the mouth and faintly wondered if Ginny had mastered the ordeal known as shaving. Brushing the bizarre thought aside, he wondered if it would be irrational if he were to allow things to continue as they were…

Suddenly, the green eyes widened and a look of horror came over that face; without any warning, she shoved Draco away from her violently and backed herself up against the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing! That’s disgusting!” The Ginny-in-Harry’s-body gasped, sick revulsion emanating from every pore.

“Weasley?” Draco asked uncertainly, trying to recover his questionable sanity.

“I’m Harry.”

Author notes: Haha, yes, I’m back – about time right? So much for no long waits for lazy authors to update =P Sorry, I’m currently getting in sync with becoming an independent individual in this fast paced driven society we live in. In other words I’m struggling with work, uni, bf and sleep. But if it makes you feel any better, I try to squeeze in fic writing whenever I find the time. Anyway, please forgive me – I’ll try harder. I promise! =)

I see that this fic doesn’t seem to appeal to that many people if the comments I’m getting are anything to go by, but it’s okay, I won’t give up just yet. I can’t promise that the situation will get any better, but then I already warned everyone at the beginning that it wouldn’t be a pretty d/g fic.

In hope,

Rea.