"Feeling much better now?" Ginny asked, not looking up from her book as Draco reentered the room. "More human, perhaps?"

"I am accustomed to bathing at least once per day. The world as a whole would be better off if most people practiced the same thing. And no, for once I am not referring to you."

"Oh? Then who are you referring to? Harry?"

"I don't think the pillock has washed with soap in two months," he said, his nose wrinkling. She giggled. "Absolutely no consideration to those who are forced to be in close proximity to him."

"Too many things on his mind, I suppose," she remarked, glancing up. "He's always-" her voice died as her eyes fell on him. His tousled hair was still damp; his shirt was on, but hung open - she could see every line of his chest. She felt her cheeks start to burn and averted her eyes quickly, hoping that he hadn't noticed her gaze.

"He's always what?" he prompted, checking his reflection in the mirror that hung above her fireplace.

"He's always neglected his hygiene when he has more important things on his mind."

"We've all got the end of the world on our minds," he snarked back, turning to look at her. "But somehow we all find the courage to pick up that bar of soap. Sweet Salazar, how do we manage?" She looked up and laughed at his expression. He responded in kind, and her smile widened. It was the first honest to Merlin laugh that she could remember hearing from him. She vowed to try and make him do it more often. His smile faded and his eyes darkened. "So he did this when the two of you dated?"

She screwed her face up. "You would think that I'd remember something other than his smell." She paused, suddenly lost in thought, and he arched an eyebrow.

"Weasley?" Her head snapped up, and she smiled apologetically.

"Sorry. It's just that - sometimes I rather miss his smell. Not the bad one," she explained hurriedly, ignoring his smirk. "But the one he had when it was just him."

"Are you certain that it's not him that you miss?"

"I'm positive. You know that smell, the natural one that all people have that's unique to them? I miss that. Sometimes I wish I'd slept with him just so I could have his pillow to smell when I woke up." She missed the pain that surfaced in his eyes. "But that's a stupid reason to want to sleep with someone when you don't love them, right?" She looked up, and was surprised at the expression on Malfoy's face. It wasn't exactly sad, but it wasn't far off, either. "Oh, Gods - I'm so sorry, Malfoy! I didn't mean to - I wasn't trying to be an insensitive twit, I swear!"

"You shouldn't sleep with someone that you don't love," he offered candidly, ignoring her apology. "If you do, you will only regret it once you find someone that you do love." Her lower lip trembled.

"What if you never find someone to love? Wouldn't it be better to sleep with someone that loves you than never anyone at all?" His eyes searched hers.

"Why are you trying to make me believe that you slept with Creevey, when we both know that there's nothing further from the truth?"

"I just asked," she breathed, looking away.

"It's the second time you've alluded to it. Virginity is nothing to be ashamed of," he murmured, buttoning his shirt with nimble fingers. "You should be proud, that you've been strong enough to withstand the wiles of the opposite sex for so long. Not all of us are so virtuous."

"Virtuous?" she snorted, rolling her eyes. She stood and went to put her book back in its place on her bookshelf, unaware that his eyes followed her movements. "Most men have a different word for women my age who are still virgins. Prude."

"Those men are the sort who don't know what fidelity and honor mean," he said quietly. She turned surprised eyes to him. His eyes were trained on the photo of she and her family that hung above the fireplace. "And likely they never will. You would do well to stay away from such men. Find one more like your father."

"That's what my Mum says," she said softly, her chest constricting. "Draco, I-"

"Stop," he said simply, shaking his head at her. She closed her mouth and took a deep breath.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, her voice gentle. He shook his head. "Would you like me to make you a pot of chocolate?"

"Do I look depressed, Weasley?" he asked, his voice sounding bored. She forced a smile.

"You should be flattered that I even offered. I haven't made chocolate for anyone except my father and my brothers."

"So why offer to make it for me?"

"You've got gooseflesh," she lied. "I saw it before you buttoned your shirt. You need some to keep from catching a chill in this drafty flat."

"So you were eyeing me while I was half naked. Interesting. Not unexpected, but interesting nonetheless." She rolled her eyes and turned away.

"Why do I even bother?" she threw her hands up in the air and went into the kitchen. Moments later, he appeared in the door. He leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms across his chest.

"I have to be getting back." She kept stirring the pot that was on the stove.

"I thought you had a whole day?"

"I did. I did some other things before coming here."

"Oh." She turned to face him, and shifted awkwardly. "This is still new to me."

"No hugs," he reiterated, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Then what?"

"A goodbye will suffice."

"Goodbye, Draco," she breathed. He was gone before she could finish.

************************

"I'm so bloody tired of waiting!" Ron proclaimed, throwing his hands in the air to emphasize his point. He'd been pacing in front of the fireplace for nearly twenty minutes, and Hermione had just about had it. "Why don't we attack them? Why must we wait for them to strike first?"

"Ronald!" Hermione snapped finally, closing her book. Harry glanced up from his desk, his quill pausing just above the parchment he'd been writing on. Malfoy was in the corner, watching the unfolding scene with detached interest.

"What?" Ron asked, his eyes wide. Hermione only used his name like that when she was angry.

"Would you please stop pacing like that? You're driving me to distraction! I can't think, I can't read - stop! You're not helping anything!"

"That's exactly my point!" he said, exasperated. "We're not helping anything! We're not doing anything but sitting here, like sitting ducks!"

"That's not completely right," Hermione returned, her cheeks turning pink. "You've been complaining an awful lot!" Ron rolled his eyes and turned to Harry, who hid his smile.

"What are you doing, Harry? You've been writing for nearly an hour." He moved to look at Harry's parchment and laughed when Harry slapped a hand over it. "What, are we back in Hogwarts? Why can't I see what you're writing?"

"Because he's writing a love letter, you imbecile," Malfoy muttered, inspecting his fingernails. Harry shot him a glare, and Ron's eyebrows rose. Hermione stiffened in her seat, but did not move.

"Is he right?" Harry's blush was Ron's response, and a broad grin spread over the redhead's face. "All right! It's about time. Who is it, then?"

"I'm not writing a love letter," Harry denied, clearing his throat. "I'm just writing down something to see how it sounds."

"Must be an awful important something," Ron remarked, still grinning. "Who's it to?"

"Not Granger." Hermione gave Malfoy her best deadly glare. He did not seem to be at all affected by it, but it didn't deter her from trying.

"Well that's a given," Ron laughed. Hermione decided it was best to direct her glare at Ron, who in the past had been terrified of it. At the present, however, he took no notice of it, and continued on. "Out with it, Harry."

Hermione, who could not bear to hear it spoken aloud, closed her book and exited the room while she felt that she still had her dignity in tact. Malfoy smiled to himself.

"It's for your sister, you git," Malfoy announced. Ron's jaw dropped and Harry narrowed his eyes at the blonde.

"You ought to learn to keep your big, bloody gob shut!" Harry snapped. Draco didn't respond.

"Is he right?"

"He's a bloody fucking nuisance, is what he is!" Harry replied.

"But is he right?" Ron asked insistently. Harry exhaled slowly.

"I suppose."

"That's fan-bloody-tastic! I'm so happy for you!"

"You're acting like we're already together, Ron," Harry said, fighting the smile that threatened.

"Well, it's a given, isn't it? She's been bonkers for you since she was ten! Are you asking her out?"

"I think so."

"She won't go," came a voice from the corner. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and Ron turned to look at the speaker.

"Why do you say that?"

"She's not interested in Potter anymore."

"How do you know?" Malfoy didn't reply, and Ron turned back to Harry. "What's he talking about?"

"Apparently he and Ginny have become friends." Ron inhaled a sharp breath and turned back to stare at the blonde, who returned his gaze coolly. "I don't know how or when it happened - I just know that he's been speaking to her."

"Is that true? Are you her friend?"

"Not exactly the term I'd use," Malfoy rejoined, arching an eyebrow. "But for the purposes of this conversation - yes."

"Do you like her?" Ron asked curiously.

"Ron!" Harry snapped, rising from his chair.

"What?" he asked. "I want to know. There's nothing wrong with the two of them being friends, if that's what they genuinely are. If he's trying to use her, though-" he said, turning back to Malfoy, "Then I have a problem with that." Draco gave him an appraising look. He had not expected acceptance from the redhead. "Do you like her?"

"Yes."

"Merlin, Ron! You can't actually believe him!"

"Why not?" Ron asked, sitting down where Hermione had vacated moments earlier. "So, are you asking her out, or what?"

Harry's chest heaved angrily. "I am working it out before I do it," he snapped, grabbing his parchment and rolling it up.

"How sweet," Malfoy sniggered. "You want to get it perfect before you do it."

"Didn't I tell you to shut the hell up?" Ron frowned at his friend.

"Why are you even paying attention to him?" he wondered aloud. "You know how he is. He loves to taunt you. What makes you think that he's going to change, just because he's working for you?" Harry didn't reply; instead he turned and stormed out of the room. Ron looked at the blonde, who did not move. "Aren't you going to go after him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't generally watch him when he uses the loo, Weasel."

"How did you know he was going there?"

"Where else can he be alone?"

"Good point." Ron stood and moved towards the door. Just before he reached it, a voice stopped him.

"You really don't mind that your sister and I talk?"

"If I did, would it make a difference?"

"No."

"Then why ask?"

"Sheer morbid curiosity."

"If Ginny wants to be your friend, I've no right to tell her not to. She's an adult."

"Surprising insight from someone who's always wanted to rip my head off."

"People grow up, Malfoy. I should hope you'd realized that by now." Draco only looked up when he heard the door close, and wondered why anything surprised him anymore.

********************************

Ginny was in the middle of writing in her journal when she heard the pop that signaled someone's apparition into her flat. It had been six days since her last visit from Draco, and she found that she was looking forward to the next visit more than she wanted to admit to herself. Christmas was only two days away, so she'd supposed that he might wait until then to see her, as per their agreement. Had he decided to visit earlier? She closed her journal and stood excitedly, hurrying into the next room.

Her face fell when she saw the raven hair.

"Well don't look so happy to see me," Harry said, smiling. She smiled back and shook her head gently.

"I'm sorry. Of course I'm happy to see you," she amended. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," he said, nodding. "I just came by to talk to you for a bit."

"All right. Should I make us some tea?"

"Yes, thanks." Ginny went into the kitchen and placed the tea kettle under the water spout.

"I can't help but notice that you didn't offer him coffee," a low voice breathed in her ear. Her pulse began to race. No one was visible in the room.

"He doesn't like coffee," she returned neutrally, placing the kettle on the stovetop. She reached up and opened a cabinet, searching for her tea bags.

"You missed me." The statement was simple and true, and it made her knees feel weak. She cleared her throat and removed the tea bags from their spot.

"Yes."

There was silence. She didn't know if he was still there, watching her, or if he'd gone back into the other room. She finished the tea and took it out to Harry, who seemed to watch her every move with burgeoning interest.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Ginny, I've been thinking about something, and I thought I should discuss it with you."

"Oh?"

"I've been thinking about this for a while, and I think it might be a good idea if you didn't stay in your flat alone right now." Ginny choked on the sip of tea she'd been about to swallow.

"Excuse me?"

"Colin's been seen with some particularly shady characters lately, and we just want to keep an eye on you until we can confirm or deny suspicions."

"Suspicions of what, exactly?"

"Defection," he said simply. She sucked in a deep breath.

"I see."

He cleared his throat. "So I was wondering if you'd like to stay with a member of the Order for a while."

"I really - I would really like to stay here by myself, Harry. I don't want to impose on anyone else, and I don't want anyone living here with me."

"Hermione, perhaps?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Would you rather go and stay with your parents, then?"

"No, Harry. I want to stay here."

"Ginny, please don't force my hand, here. We've discussed it and we've all agreed that you need some extra protection right now."

"Did anyone think to discuss it with me?" she demanded, her temper spiking. "This is my home, and I'll not let someone force me from it!"

"If you don't go and stay somewhere else, then I will have to come and stay with you myself." She blinked and laughed disbelievingly.

"The hell you will." It was Harry's turn to blink.

"What?"

"I am not a child, Harry. I don't need a babysitter. If you want to give me extra protection, fine - station someone outside to guard, or put more wards up. I don't need a live-in bodyguard."

"I really think you do, Gin."

"I know you do, and that's really sweet of you - but I really don't. Thanks for stopping by." She rose and took the tea cups back into the kitchen. When she heard the noise signaling Harry's departure, she exhaled and sagged against the sink, closing her eyes.

"He practiced that speech for nearly four days." She jumped, startled, and turned to find herself almost nose to nose with Draco. "And you shot him down beautifully."

"Yes, well," she said, shrugging. "I don't need a babysitter."

"We knew you'd never go for it, but he wouldn't listen."

"We?"

"Your brother, Granger, and myself."

"Oh."

"He's sweet on you, you know."

"Is he?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

"He actually came here with the intention of asking you on a date."

"He did?"

"Would you have accepted?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. He tilted his head and searched her face for a moment.

"You have no interest in him romantically, yet you'd date him?"

"I get bored like everyone else, Draco. And just because you go on a date with someone doesn't mean that you're going to jump into bed with them."

"You would give him false hope if you said yes."

"False hope of what?"

"Of keeping you," he said simply. She couldn't suppress the bumps that rose on her flesh.

"Keeping me? You make me sound like a pet."

"He wants you, and not just for a fling. He has a very jealous, possessive streak, Weasley. If you agree to date him now, he will see you as his, and will die before he lets another man near you in that capacity."

"You're trying to make it sound bad, but you're only succeeding in making it sound wildly romantic," she retorted, averting her eyes. "I wouldn't mind having a man be possessive and jealous."

"If it were the right one, maybe." Her eyes flew back to his, but they were unreadable. She cleared her throat.

"Could you move, please? I'm starting to feel very uncomfortable standing here with my back pressed up against the edge of the sink."

He stepped to the side and leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest.

"Strange that they think Colin is working for the other side now," she said, trying to change the subject. "He just doesn't seem the type."

"Oh, sure - everyone says that, until they find a body in the basement." She turned and smiled at him.

"Hey, that was actually funny. Still, I thought I knew him better than that."

"It's the people that we live with and love and know that elude us the most." She shook her head.

"Do you memorize fortune cookies just so you can recite them to me?"

"I have to go," he answered, pushing off of the counter.

"I'll see you on Christmas, right?" She turned, but he was already gone. That was, she thought, a very annoying habit of his.