Prompt: Basically, I'd like a story in which Ginny [out of anger -- you have the liberty to make up the circumstances] leaves the Burrow one misty/foggy night, wanders onto an isolated road and bumps into Draco. I'd like the conversation between them to be light, teasing [again, you have the liberty to state why Draco is walking around in a godforsaken road in the middle of nowhere] and gradually become more serious as the two have to help each other to get out of that place. 'Boo!'s, pumpkins and a cornfield are much appreciated. Things that will sound all creepy-ish and Halloween-y.

Walk Away

Ginny was about to explode. Yes, that’s the word she was looking for. Explode.

She pursed her lips and drained her eyes of all emotions. “I see,� she said tersely.

Harry shifted nervously under her clouded stare. “It’s really for your own safety, Ginny.� He glanced at the girl and boy flanking his sides as if for support. “Hermione, Ron, and I agree that it’s for the best. I’m sure if you asked your mother, she, too, would agree with us.�

Ginny narrowed her eyes, aware of the storm building up behind her irises. “Bollocks, Harry. I’m as good as, if not better than, any of you when it comes to hexes and you know it. Why are you so afraid?�

“We’re not afraid!� Harry’s inability to make eye contact spoke volumes more.

Hermione placed a sisterly hand on her shoulder. “We only want you to be safe, Ginny.�

Ginny shrugged Hermione’s hand off, ignoring the hurt that washed over Hermione’s face. “Come look for me when you’re through bullshitting.� With that, Ginny turned swiftly and, before anyone could object, stormed out of the Burrow.

As soon as she stepped out of the door, she almost turned right back inside. A harsh wind knocked her back a step. She braced herself for the next gust and forced her legs to proceed down the walkway, silently wishing she’d had the sense to grab a sweater on her way out. However, she knew her resolve would melt as soon as she returned to the warmth of the house behind her. Ginny lifted her chin and crossed her arms to keep herself warm as she began to walk.

Lost in her own thoughts, Ginny stared determinedly at the pavement, watching her feet poke out rhythmically.

She thought bitterly about the conversation she just stormed out on.

It’s for your own good.

We’re trying to protect you, Ginny.

It’s for the best.

She was sick and tired of how everyone was looking out for her. She was sixteen now, dammit. They couldn’t coddle her forever. Her mind flashed back to her childhood.

Bill, choosing “Sleeping Beauty� over “Ghouls, Ghosts, and Vampires� as a bedtime story.

Charlie, smiling at her request to take her on a broomstick ride when she was five.

Percy, refusing to share any details about the Ministry of Magic.

Fred and George, excluding her from their experiments.

Her encounter with Tom Riddle’s diary in first-year certainly hadn't helped matters. Afterwards, her father had objected to letting her out of his sight for even a few minutes in Diagon Alley, and her mother had sent her a Howler when she was discovered wandering about the halls after curfew in her fourth year.

Ginny curled her hands into fists, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling. She didn’t cry when she lost Tom Riddle, the man she thought would replace Harry. She didn’t cry when Harry ended their relationship. She didn’t cry when Charlie, Fred, and George died. And she wasn’t about to start now.

Suddenly, she became very aware of the rising hairs on the back of her neck. Ginny halted her frenzied pace, straining her ears to hear through the insufferable silence. Her eyes narrowed as sudden fog rolled over her sneakers, blurring her vision.

An owl hooted in the distance.

Ginny’s head snapped up, frozen in place. Silently, Ginny cursed her own foolishness and tried her best to calm her racing heart. As she steadied her breathing, she caught sight of endless rows of cornstalks. She frowned; Ginny didn’t remember living close to a farm. In fact, she now recalled, the nearest farm was almost half an hour away from the Burrow.

Before she could recover from her shock, she spotted a figure looming above the field, uncomfortably close to where she stood. Startled, Ginny stumbled backwards, now aware that her sneakers were kicking up dirt instead of smacking against pavement. She let out a small cry when she lost her footing and tumbled onto the dirt path, dust exploding all around her.

Bewildered, Ginny’s attention snapped back to the figure in the cornfields, and she nearly cried out of embarrassment and relief. No wonder her friends didn’t want her to go to Godric’s Hollow with them; a mere scarecrow sent her wits scattering. As she pushed herself off the ground, Ginny shot the pumpkin-headed straw man a final glare and dusted her hands off smartly.

�Caw!�

The strident call of a nearby crow sent shivers down the back of her spine.

�Caw!�

The crow was getting closer.

�Caw!�

Closer…

�CAW!�

Ginny shrieked loudly as something attacked her hair. She jumped, sending her red locks sprawling across her face. Blind, Ginny swatted her arms wildly and swerved into the cornfield, right into something solid – too solid to be a stalk of corn.

With a grunt, Ginny landed, for the second time in one night, on her backside. Panting slightly, Ginny wiped her damp red hair from her face. As she scrambled to her knees to push herself back up, her eyes froze in terror, locked on a pair of scruffy boots mere inches away from her face.

She slowly traced the boots to a sturdy set of legs.

Up more to a slim torso clothed in tattered robes.

Still more; a broad chest that fluttered slightly with each breath.

Finally to a pair of grey eyes illuminated by the moonlight, hidden beneath frazzled blond bangs.

“Well, well,� a stone-cold voice tainted with a sneer, “if it isn’t the female weasel.�

Ginny hastily rose on her feet and matched the man’s tone evenly. “Draco Malfoy.�

Malfoy folded his arms across his chest. “I thought the air stunk a bit.�

Ginny frowned as she detected a trace of haggardness in his voice. Nonetheless, she quipped, “I could say the same thing about you.� It was true; Malfoy’s robes were dirty and torn in various places. His usually pale skin was marred by streaks of grime, and his pale blonde hair seemed a dirty-yellow colour.

Malfoy shrugged, not at all deterred by his appearance. “We’ve all had it rough. Some more so than others.� Ginny wasn’t sure if he was referring to the recent massacres or his own experiences.

Whatever it was, Ginny crossed her arms, looking at Malfoy sternly. “What are you doing here, Malfoy?�

Despite his worn expression, Malfoy found the energy to smile that insufferable smirk. “A nighttime stroll by the lake, of course.�

Ginny sighed impatiently. “Don’t toy with me, Malfoy,� she spat. “With a wave of my wand I can summon the Order to come and haul your ass straight into Azkaban where you belong.�

“Go right ahead, Weasley. Even though I know you don’t have a wand on you, a roof over my head for once would do me some good.�

Damn. She had left her wand by her bed. However, it was Malfoy’s latter statement that caught her attention. “What do you mean?�

Malfoy’s smile turned into a scowl. He turned his figure slightly. “Not everyone’s as fortunate as you Weasleys, having a home to go to,� he mumbled.

Ginny recalled the discussions about Draco Malfoy after his infamous disappearance from Hogwarts only a few months ago. Harry had told them all about Draco’s inability to carry out his assignment and about Snape’s traitorous act. The Aurors were able to trace Draco and Snape to Spinner’s End and follow Snape to Twelve Grimmauld Place. Draco, however, was noticeably missing.

She knew she should’ve run for it; from Draco’s appearance, she could assume he, too, was unarmed. She knew she should’ve gone straight back home to get help. She knew she could’ve captured Malfoy right then and there and ended the manhunt for the most wanted person after You-Know-Who himself.

But, from the despair and loss in Draco’s expression, she couldn’t bring her legs to move, to sprint away from this madman. Only the Order knew of Draco’s innocence - that he didn’t murder their beloved Headmaster. Here he was, the man whom everyone hated. The one many regard as the new right-hand man of You-Know-Who himself. Except now Ginny knew he was simply a boy, trapped in his own guilt and sorrow.

“Why are you here, Draco?�

Draco’s head lifted. Surprise befuddled his face as he registered the gentleness in her voice. Then he turned his attention back to the nearby cornstalk. “I’m on my way to my family’s summer mansion. It’s the only place safe enough for me.�

Ginny was startled by this revelation. Why Draco decided to reveal this to her, to trust her, she didn’t know. But from the hard determination beneath Draco’s eyes, she knew that for whatever reason, he needed to get there.

“Why’d you do it?� Ginny blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Do what?�

Ginny whispered, “Walk away.�

Draco turned his head to stare into Ginny’s hazel eyes. “Dumbledore was someone I looked up to. I couldn’t kill him in cold blood. But neither could I ignore his command.� He shrugged nonchalantly. “It worked out fine in the end.�

He straightened his back and held out an arm. Ginny watched as Draco pursed his lips and let out a low whistle, one she knew she wouldn’t have been able to hear if she’d been on the path.

Suddenly a crow launched itself onto Draco’s shoulder, flying low over Ginny’s head. She gasped in surprise and ducked her head, expecting sharp claws to scrape into her scalp.

A low chuckle forced Ginny to open her eyes again. She watched in confusion as Draco stroked the black bird perched on his shoulder. He answered her silent question. “I use crows now to keep in touch with my mother. She’s awfully worried about me, but I make sure she knows I’m still alive.� Draco glanced at Ginny, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “They’re perfectly harmless, you know.�

“Right,� Ginny breathed as the rush of adrenaline ceased.

Curiously, she watched Draco dig out a small pebble from his pocket. Next, Draco held out his finger in front of the crow’s menacing beak. The crow nipped at Draco’s outstretched finger and watched with a tilted head and blank eyes as a pool of red surfaced. Quickly, Draco took his bloodied finger and swiped one, two on the pebble. As he moved his hand away from the pebble, Ginny saw the mark he had left behind: a heart painted on the rock. With nimble fingers, Draco tied the rock to the crow’s leg with a thin piece of grass he plucked from the base of a cornstalk.

With a friendly stroke on the back, Draco sent the crow back into the night. Ginny and Draco stood quietly side-by-side as they watched night swallow the bird with a gentle breath of wind.

Wordlessly, Ginny let Draco lead her out of the cornfield and back onto the main dirt path. The two walked in comfortable silence, retracing the steps Ginny had made only half an hour earlier.

“What are you doing out here, Ginny?�

The sound of her name from Draco’s mouth made Ginny shiver. “Just like you, Draco,� she answered lightly, “a stroll by the lake.�

“Oh I see.� After a moment’s pause, Draco’s voice pierced the blackness again. “What did he do this time?�

That was all the invitation Ginny needed. Ginny poured out her soul to Draco, describing everything from Bill’s story-time moments to Harry’s refusal. Her rant and her anger spilled out, leaving Ginny bare in Draco’s eyes, but she was past caring. She even appreciated Draco’s comments and words of advice.

Here was someone who was finally listening to her, finally talking to her like she could do anything. Someone who didn’t think she was still the little girl she used to be. Someone who could, possibly, love her for all her flaws.

The last thought struck her dumb. Ginny froze, mid-sentence, as she stared at Draco with wide eyes. Draco, however, seemed unaware of Ginny’s gaze. Instead, he whispered, “I think this is your stop, Ginny.�

Blinking, Ginny turned her head and found herself looking up at the Burrow. Damn.

As she turned back around, those deep grey eyes bore right into hers once more. “Draco…� she breathed.

A pale, long finger pressed against her lips stopped her from saying anymore. “It won’t work out, Ginny,� he said simply. His expression looked pained as tears gathered in Ginny’s eyes. He opened his mouth to say more before deciding to lean in slowly…

“Ginny? Hey, Harry, Ginny’s back!�

The disturbance snapped both of them back to reality. Ginny jumped, facing the Burrow now, watching as window after window turned from dark to light. The front door opened and Ginny watched her mother and Harry pop out the door.

“Ginny?�

“Ginny, dear, come inside now. It’s so cold!� Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Who is that you’re talking to?�

Ginny sighed and turned to say goodbye to Draco only to find there was no one beside her.

“No one,� her voice sounded strangled as she choked on her tears. He didn’t even say goodbye. “No one,� she repeated louder. Resigned, Ginny trudged up the steps into Mrs. Weasley’s warm arms.

*

Ginny approached him slowly, her eyes locked carefully on his steel-grey ones. He stood still, straight as ever, despite the cold sleet, looking defiant at the world around him.

“Why’d you do it?�

“Do what?�

“Walk away.�

Wordlessly, he shook his head and faded away.

Ginny awoke from the dream, chilled with cold sweat. The dampness clung to her body, almost like the rain had done in her dream.

It was all a dream. That’s all it was. Everything that happened last night was all just a dream.

Slowly, Ginny eased herself out of bed. As she slipped her feet into her slippers, her toes touched something smooth and round at the base of one shoe. Slowly, Ginny picked up her slipper and fought the sudden urge to cry once more.

A pebble with a blood-red heart.

---

End notes: This chapter follows as closely to canon as my knowledge of the Harry Potter universe as of October 20, 2006 allows. Any information revealed to be false by Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will not be changed.

Reviews are graciously accepted and appreciated.