Ginny did not expect it to be so cold outside. She should've known, of course, because it was the middle of January and the lake had practically been frozen over for the past month. But with her cheeks wet from tears, no cloak, and the rapidly disappearing sun made it seem much more frigid than the pervious temperatures.

Forcing herself to ignore the cold, she hurried across the Hogwarts grounds. She wasn't sure the exact reason why she was crying, but she knew it was caused by Harry. Why did she have to be such a stuttering dope around Harry Potter? Why couldn't she act like a normal person, a normal girl, smooth and calm and collected?

It had all been at dinner. Ginny, like always, had been sitting outside the little circle her brother Ron, Hermione, and Harry normally made, and were ignoring her. She pretended like she didn't care, and had picked at her food. After all, she was sixteen – why should they know that she still acted like an eleven-year-old, waiting around like an idiot for Harry to wake up and notice her?

She had been working herself into a depressing state, sitting there and listening half-heartedly to their discussion. In her mind she kept thinking that she was just a hopeless dreamer, that Harry would never, ever want her, that he could have any girl he wanted and would certainly pick one who didn't mumble and turn bright red in his presence. A girl who wasn't the younger sister of his best friend. A girl who was gorgeous and would make a good girlfriend, an attractive arm ornament.

Harry doesn't care about that stuff, she tried to tell herself. Harry doesn't just want a beautiful girl – he probably wants someone he can talk to, someone whose beauty is more than skin deep.

But if she wanted to be realistic, every guy wanted a gorgeous girlfriend. Ginny was sure even if Harry was the ugliest person on the planet she'd still like him, but it was different with boys. Wasn't it?

As if to confirm her fears, Harry suddenly said, "I got a letter from Cho today."

Ginny frowned at the name. Cho Chang, who had graduated the pervious year, had dated Harry all of her seventh year. That had been the worst time of Ginny's life, but the happiest day had been when she found Cho had broken up with him because a long distance relationship was too hard to handle.

"And?" Ron asked.

If Ginny wasn't mistaken Harry had flushed a little, and answered a little sheepishly, "She wants to see me sometime. I think – well, she so much as said that she wants to get back with me."

Ginny choked on the water she had been drinking, spitting it back into the cup. Hermione was the only one who noticed and gave her an odd look, then returned her attention back to Harry.

"That's great, Harry," she said, smiling. "You and Cho always got along really well. You were good friends."

Ginny slammed her cup down loudly, but that only got her looks from a couple of first-years sitting beside her.

Ron glanced in her direction, grinning. "Too bad for Ginny, though. She's been hoping to snag you for herself, haven't you, Gin?"

Harry turned to look at her. She felt all the blood rush to her face and was sure they could feel the heat all the way across the Great Hall. She had to get out of there quick, before she made a spectacle of herself or strangled her brother.

"Excuse me," she squeaked out, and stood up slowly.

Once she made it around the table, fully aware that the three of them were staring at her, Ron sniggering, she sprinted from the hall. By the time she got outside she was crying tears of frustration.

He's never going to notice me, she thought, sobbing. I'm always going to be "Ron's little sister who likes me" to him. Never "Ginny, my girlfriend." Why do I keep dreaming? If he liked me he would've let me know by now.

Ginny wasn't sure where she was headed, but when she arrived at the edge of the Forbidden Forest she found that going in sounded like a good idea. She could get in a lot of trouble, she knew, and could even get hurt. But at the moment she was already hurt, somewhere inside her chest, and she felt like being reckless. For once, she was going to through all consequences out the window.

She stepped into the forest.

Let them worry about me, she thought, getting bolder with every step. I won't come back until the middle of the night, no matter what the teachers do to me. I'll make Ron worry out of his mind and feel terrible.

She walked further, her nose going numb. Perhaps she should go back for her cloak . . . no, because Ron might stop her from going out again. And he deserved whatever guilt he felt when she didn't come back until hours later – he deserved it.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of footsteps that were not her own. She knew it because it was coming somewhere ahead of her. She froze, her heart thudding hard in her chest. The footsteps continued, making no attempt to make their approach unknown. It wasn't someone coming from the castle to get her – the caste was behind her, not ahead.

Her mind flashed images of wild beasts, jumping on her and tearing at her throat. She had never been more terrified in her life – what was I thinking, coming here alone? I'm going to die!

But then, a tall, willowy figure stepped through the trees. It took Ginny a moment to realize it was a person – a man around his twenties. She had never seen anyone so beautiful, so appealing to her senses before. She took a step forward instead of back without even realizing it.

"Hello," he greeted her with a rich, deep voice, one hand held up in a wave. "What's a beauty like you doing out in these woods all alone?"

Ginny was too busy running her eyes over him to answer. He had silky brown hair that fell carelessly onto his forehead. His skin was paler than Ginny's, but his lips were so red it almost looked like he was wearing lipstick. He had the darkest eyes she had ever seen – black orbs, which were even colder than Professor Snape's. They fixed on her with a predatory-like gaze, and he ran his tongue over his lips. He wore no cloak either – just a black long sleeved shirt and black jeans, his hands in his pockets. He gave her a lazy grin that did not reach his eyes and stepped closer to her.

"You've been crying," he said softly, his smile fading. Some invisible cord pulled her towards him until she was standing inches from his body, unable to tear her eyes from his cold, black ones. "Who hurt you, gorgeous?"

Something made her answer the complete truth. "Harry," she answered. "Harry Potter . . . he doesn't want me . . ."

"Doesn't want you?" the man whispered, his black eyes flickering with surprise. "But my dear, you look so . . . wonderful . . ."

His fingertips stroked down her cheek to her neck, and they were even icier than the night air.

"Who are you?" Ginny asked in awe, her voice below a whisper.

"A friend." He grinned again, carelessly. "Just a friend. Do you want this Potter fellow?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "I want him more than anything."

He smiled at her, then leaned so his lips were right near her ear. "I can give you the power to get him. To get anyone you want, to get them to want you in return."

He pulled back to meet her gaze again. She stared at him, amazed. "You can?" she said.

Nodding, he licked his lips once more. His hand lifted to smooth down her thick, silky red hair as his eyes trailed down her face and resting on her neck. "Do you want it?"

Did she want what? But he could've asked her if she wanted to marry him and she would've said yes. The man seemed so perfect, and she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she wanted him instead of Harry.

"I want it," Ginny told him.

His dark eyes twinkled with glee. "Then you shall have it."

He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. She shivered – she couldn't help it. He was so cold – and yet he was making her insides so warm. Who was this man? Why couldn't she stop herself from kissing him back? All she wanted to do was rip clothes off and have him right there on the forest floor, but he pulled away before she could get a grip on his shirt.

He placed both of his hands on both sides of her head and brought his mouth to her forehead, then to her each of her eyelids, brushing his lips by hers and then down to her chin. Then he tilted her head to the side so he exposed her neck, and still Ginny did not want him to stop.

Her eyes were closed so she did not see his sharp teeth, did not see him lower them to her neck. But she felt as they pierced the tender flesh of her throat, and it hurt. She let out a whimper – was he biting her?

But then the pain vanished, and was replaced by pure bliss. It was like being drowsy – she felt weak, but all her problems were gone. Nothing mattered. Everything was just as it should be.

She sighed in contentment, letting her head fall back. And everything got darker, and she found it harder to concentrate on anything. Finally, she fell into a state of darkness, and it consumed her. Then she remembered nothing.

When she woke up, she was lying on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was crisp morning, and the sun was just starting to come up. Slowly, Ginny rose.

She remembered what had happened the night before. Reaching up to feel her neck, she found that it was perfectly smooth – unscarred by any teeth marks. Yet she knew it had really happened – she knew she was dead. The cold did not bother her. In fact, it felt like normal and was almost comforting. Her skin was so pale even her freckles were nearly invisible, and no blood coursed through her body. Her heart did not move; it lay dormant inside her chest, of no use whatsoever to her.

She was a vampire.

The realization brought nothing but the feeling of power and invincibility. Her attitude on everything had changed since the previous evening. Instead of feeling too tall, too freckly, too ugly, she felt the exact opposite. She felt beautiful, capable of making any man swoon for her. No guy could resist her charms – no man could resist a vampire temptress.

Her lips curved into a smile. Time to tempt some poor fool, she thought, and began heading back to the castle.

Harry was to be her fool. The idiot! To think that he was going to choose some stupid teenager over her? Over her, who had suddenly changed from an insecure girl to a curvy woman overnight? Who knew the ways of seduction, who did not doubt herself the least bit, who could control any man's desires?

He's mine, she thought, licking her lips in anticipation. I'll make him want me – and then I'll kill him.

There was something else besides the feeling of power deep inside her. And that was thirst. The thirst for warm, thick blood – a thirst that would only be satisfied after she had drank that of a human. She nearly laughed out loud in sheer happiness at the thought that she would get what she wanted last night and what she wanted know – Harry looking lustfully at her, and then his blood.

Staring down at herself, she realized that her outfit was way too conservative. She needed something more – revealing. Taking off her robes, she used her wand to give her clothes a much sexier look. Then she put her robes back on, not wanting anyone but Harry to see what she was wearing.

Ginny sauntered back into the castle. It was breakfast – everyone was in the Great Hall. She walked in, and felt as if every male eye had turned to her – including the professors. She gave her sexiest smile and swung her hips as she walked over to the Gryffindor table.

She tapped Harry on the shoulder. "May we talk?" she asked pleasantly.

"Ginny! Where did you go last night? I didn't see you and assumed you had gone to bed," Ron said, obviously the only one immune to her charms. Which was just fine with her – she did not want to seduce her brother.

She smiled softly at him. "I'm fine. Now, Harry, if you please?"

He stared up at her and nodded wordlessly. As he stood up and she turned to leave, she allowed herself a small victory grin. Oh yes, the look of desire had been in his eyes. He was beginning to notice that she wasn't what he thought she was.

Something was different about Ginny. Harry could tell. It wasn't just the way she walked, even though it did even cause Professor Dumbledore to look in her direction. And it wasn't only the low, husky voice she was talking in. It was how she looked.

If she had looked this good the whole time, then Harry would not have written Cho back agreeing to see her again. He would've told her to get lost, that he already had a girlfriend. So he knew something was different about her face and her body. She seemed to have aged into a woman overnight.

His heart pounding wildly, he followed her out into the hall. "Where are we going?" he asked. He commended himself on keeping his voice from calm.

"Somewhere private," she said, glancing back at him with her lips curved in a smile that had his blood rushing faster.

What was she doing to him? When had she become so irresistible?

Ginny led him to an abandoned classroom. She shut the door firmly behind them, locked it, and immediately turned back to Harry.

"I would like to talk with you," she whispered, using that tone that was driving him wild.

Why talk? he thought, but nodded anyway. She stepped by him and crossed the room to sit on the teacher's desk. Her legs crossed, a part of her robe fell to the side and revealed one long, creamy white leg. He began to feel a little warm and tried to control himself.

She leaned back on her hands and swung her bare leg. "Are you still with Cho?" She pouted her lips.

"No," he answered before he could even think of the question. Just the look on her face, like she would burst out crying if he said yes to whatever she said, had made him say what she wanted to hear.

"That's good," she said softly.

"W-why?" he sputtered.

She smiled seductively and leaned forward. She spread her legs wide and whispered, "Come here."

He couldn't have stayed where he was even if he'd wanted to. He hurried to stand in front of her.

Ginny's face was radiant. Harry noticed that she was paler than usual, and her freckles seemed to be gone, and her wide brown eyes seemed colder and less innocent than he was used to, but none of it mattered. With the cascade of wavy, thick, silky red hair falling around her beautiful face, he could only think of one thing. And that was pressing his lips against hers and kissing her so hard it'd take her breath away.

She reached and grabbed the waist of his jeans, pulling up even closer until he was pressed against the desk. Oh, God, what's she doing to me? he wondered, his head swimming. It took all of his strength to keep his arms limply at his sides and not grab her.

Her hands wrapped around the back of his head and she pulled his ear down to her mouth. "It's good because now you're all mine," she whispered. Abruptly, without warning, she twisted his face around almost cruelly and kissed him.

It was somewhat of a shock. He had always been thinking that he would be the one to kiss her. And he had thought her lips would be warm and soft. But it was the opposite – they were cold and tight.

But just being close to her made him ignore that little fact. He kissed her back just as fiercely, hands gripping her upper arms. He felt something slide around his waist and realized she had wrapped her legs around him.

So many things went through Harry's head at that point. He wanted her like he had never wanted anyone in his life. How could he have ignored her before? He could have experienced this many times before if only he had acknowledged her.

He leaned so far into the kiss he began to push her back onto the top of the desk. His hands were everywhere – traveling over her smooth, but cold, skin and under her robes. She was still holding his head, running her fingers through his hair and kissing him so hard his lips actually felt bruised.

Harry pulled away, the pain of his mouth finally getting to him. He had thought he would just turn and walk out, but when she straightened and saw her lying down below him, her legs still wrapped around him, all images of leaving flew out of his brain. Her eyes were sparkling mischievously, inviting him to kiss her again. The invitation was too hard to resist, yet he managed.

Because first he had to get her robes off.

He set to work, half thinking she would stop him. But when he had trouble with one fastening, she shoved his hand away and undid it herself, as if impatient. When he finally got them open, he stared down in awe at her clothes. What sort of person wore tight shirts and short shorts in the middle of the winter?

Yet they suited her perfectly, showing every curve and only making him want her more, if that was possible. Harry started to lean down and kiss her again, actually wanting her to kiss him so hard it hurt, but she sat up quickly before he could.

Her arms wrapped firmly around his neck, she brought her mouth to his ear once more. "Harry," she said, no more than a sigh. "Do you want me?"

"Yes," he croaked.

"Good."

She pulled her head back and grinned. Some of his desire edged away when he saw two of her teeth were pointed. What . . .?

She lowered her face to his throat. He felt a shock of pain, and cried out.

Ginny was smiling, her fangs buried deep into his neck, as she drank his blood. She had never tasted anything sweeter, anything more satisfying.

Pity I have to kill you, she thought, feeling Harry go weak in her arms. We could have been so wonderful together . . .

A/N: Yes, I killed Harry. I'm sorry. But all flames will be used to start a bonfire in my backyard and roast marshmallows. On the bright side, with Harry dead, that means Ginny's free to make Draco her vampire lover! Woo-hoo!

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