A/N: Sorry about the delay, again. I hope you enjoy this chapter! This has not been beta read, blah blah blah. You know the drill by now.

Chapter 36:

Ginny turned and tossed, unable to sleep. Sleep. Sleep, sleep sleep! Dumbledore wanted her to rest. She snorted; what the heck was going through the head of that lunatic was beyond her. Like she didn't have anything else to do rather than sleep. First, she had to think. Second, she had to come up with a plan to get out of there. Third, what idiot peacefully drifts off into slumber when they've been kidnapped by one of the darkest wizards of all time, eh?

To top it off, Draco had passed out on her and she had no one to talk to. She cursed Pomfrey with all her might. Always stuffing sleeping potions to people as if putting them to sleep resolved everything, ah!

You got it, Ginny Weasley was mad at the whole world.

Voldemort smirked from his place in the shadows. The change was oh so subtle, but it was already discernable. He was slowly releasing her anger about all the little things in her life that weren't working out.

"Come on, little girl," he whispered. "You're not mad at that useless excuse for a nurse. You've got better to be mad at. Where's your family when you need them? You're so frightened here, all alone. Only one person is there for you. All the others don't care. Where are your oh so wonderful friends? Don't you think Draco would have told you if they had tried anything to get you back?" His smile widened as she started to cry silently and he strutted away, his presence still unknown to the sobbing redhead.

After a good hour of bawling her eyes out, she felt Draco stir awake and threw herself at him. She felt him quickly put aside his own pain and problems and pay attention to her; it made her smile. He was the only one there for her.

"Not true Ginny, people are really worried about you."

She laughed bitterly. "No, they're not. You're the only one who cares. And that idiot of Pomfrey made you fall asleep!"

Draco frowned, but decided not to comment. He knew something was wrong with her, even without her insulting the nurse.

"Come on, tell me I'm wrong!" she screamed in his mind, making his migraine bounce up to a new level.

He winced as the sharp pain throbbed through his head and rolled over to bury his face into a pillow. "You are wrong. Your brother cares, your dad cares, your mum is sick with worry, even Snape cares."

"Rubbish. They never cared. I'm just their little family disgrace," she spat out, her mind full of venom.

"What the hell are you talking about now? Half the kids in school dream they had a family like yours!"

He felt her laugh and cry at the same time and started to get agitated. He couldn't grasp what was going on but she was frightening, really frightening.

"They only cared when I was kidnapped in the Chamber of Secrets, and then their faces when they discovered it was me all along, you should have seen them. The way they looked at me, like they wanted to lock me up and forget! Hermione and her pathetic pep talks, Colin and Sophia who wanted to be on my good side, afraid of what I was capable of. I never had any real friends. They're all scared of me, because I'm possessed."

"You're not possessed anymore."

"Really? Then why do I always hear Tom in my head? He was the only one there before you, the only one who knew me for who I am."

Draco sat up at that comment and the lights in the hospital wing sprang to life. He could hear Madam Pomfrey's quick steps coming towards him. She was surprised to find him struggling to get up: she was pretty sure she'd given him her strongest sleep potions, which should have knocked him out for at least a day.

"Mr Malfoy, lie back down this instant! And I'm not joking!"

"Please, get professor Dumbledore, please," he whispered.

"Certainly not, it's three in the morning," she replied sternly… And sighed when she saw he was begging. "Fine, lie down, I'll be back in a few."

"What do you think you're doing?" Ginny's voice was cold.

"I'm telling Dumbledore," he replied as coldly.

"Telling him what?"

"Telling him that you fucking lost it! How can you even think that Tom Riddle is your friend? He is always belittling you, I know, I saw in what state he can put you! Voldemort is screwing with your mind and you're just letting him."

She was fuming. How dared he. How dared he imply that she was weak and unable to resist.

"Because you are. He's using Active Legillimens on you. He's toying with your mind. Let me guess, your family is shit and you felt so much better when you had the diary?" he spat angrily.

"Yes, exactly!" she screamed at him. He had no doubt she would have wrung his neck if they had been in the same room.

"Well wake up Weasley, because you know I'd kill to have a family like yours. You know you have it easy and that they love you. So dig up your sickeningly happy memories and start working with them!"

She felt the humongous mental slap he was sending her direction and felt confused. Why was he so mad? He wasn't supposed to be on their side. He was hers; he had to stand by her! She could feel bile rise in her throat and distress take over her mind.

She guessed he knew because he calmed down. "Ginny, please, you trust me right? You know I love you, I wouldn't lie to you. Just think about all this okay?"

She shivered in the dark of the dungeon and let another tear escape. "Okay, I'll try. I'm sorry I screamed at you."

He didn't answer but she knew he was there, she could sense his presence and his concern for her as she drifted off into a restless sleep.

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After having talked to a restless Draco, Albus knew he had to floo to the Burrow, even at this ungodly hour. As he suspected, none of the Weasleys were asleep.

Molly, usually so strong, was baking brownies (always a bad sign) while crying over her bowl. Arthur was reading the Daily Prophet upside down; meaning he was staring into space and had not yet realised the paper was uncooperative.

Arthur dropped the newspaper as Albus stepped out of the oversized chimney. "Albus! Any news?"

The old headmaster nodded gravely. "A bad one and a good one I'm afraid."

Molly didn't turn away from her mixing bowl but her hands stopped nevertheless.

"I had a very interesting little chat with young Mr. Malfoy this afternoon, and another one, just as interesting, a few minutes ago."

Arthur sighed, trying not to let his anger get the better of him. "Why do you even bother with that little hooligan?" he greeted through his clenched teeth.

Molly glared at her husband and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, which irritated Arthur to no end.

"But as I said Arthur, those chats were extremely interesting. And the fact that he dragged himself from the hospital wing all the way to my office to talk with me indicates a certain sense of seriousness regarding the topics approached during these chats."

Molly's head shot up at Dumbledore's words. "The hospital wing? Again?"

Albus sighed and quickly summarized the drama that his never quiet school had been graced with. Arthur felt a tinge of guilt settle at the pit of his stomach but he was decided not to care. It was more than enough that Molly was freaking out over 'that poor boy'.

He wasn't sure how to take anything Dumbledore said that night for that matter. It seemed huge. But the old professor was sure of his theory.

Molly, however, was sceptical too. "Albus, their telepathy was an accident; how can You-Know-Who think they're special kids? Even if Ginny has been possessed, it seems insane."

Dumbledore looked at her pointedly. "And Voldemort is indubitably sane? He thinks these kinds of bonds are far from random. Think like him for a second: the girl he possessed and the boy that was born solely to be his heir. Certainly a wonderful coincidence. Or, in his crazed mind: Destiny.

Silence fell on the room. All three were deep in thought. Dumbledore eventually entered the chimney again, without a word. He didn't really know what to say anyway.

While Molly was going back to her baking, Arthur stood up and started pacing.

"Destiny? DESTINY? He's a fruitcake, a nutter! He ought to stop the lemon drops!" he started yelling.

Molly raised her hands in a calming gesture. "Arthur, he just said what You-Know-Who thinks!"

"I don't care! I won't have my daughter associate with Death Eater Junior anymore! That kid is trouble, nothing but trouble! And after everything he's attempted, you'd think he would have finished himself off by now."

Molly dropped the tray of brownies that she was sliding in the over and turned to look at her husband. "Excuse me?" she stuttered in disbelief.

"Oh, and I mean it! All this is his fault. All of it, and he knows it!" he spat forcefully, stressing his last words.

He watched as his wife shook her head reprovingly, then saw her expression change from disapproval to realisation and finally to a mix of horror and fury.

"Arthur Weasley, what did you do?" she finally managed to choke out. "What horrible things did you tell that kid?"

"Nothing he didn't know already," Arthur replied icily while gathering the paper that he had let fall on the carpet.

"And now that you took your anger out on him and that you drove him to do something stupid once again, are you feeling good about yourself?"

"This has nothing to do with how I feel about myself Molly. I told him what I thought and how he handled is neither my fault, nor my business."

"So you told him he basically shouldn't exist?"

"Exactly."

"You told an already troubled kid whose best friend has been kidnapped, whose mother has been killed and whose father is a psychomaniac murderer that he shouldn't exist and you can still LIVE with yourself?"

She threw her apron down, turned off the oven and marched over the brownies that were still lying scattered on the floor.

"Your attitude disgusts me Arthur. That you, a father of seven, can treat a child like this makes me want to vomit. Don't even think of coming upstairs tonight. You can sleep on the couch and think about what you've done."

She stomped upstairs. "And clean up that bloody kitchen!" she bellowed before slamming the door to their bedroom.

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Mrs Norris was strolling along the corridor flooded, once again, by Myrtle. She cursed the stupid ghost. Cats don't like water! How could she patrol with that little brat playing Niagara Falls in the hallways?

She was treading careful across the never ending puddle when a shadow caught the corner of her eyes. She adjusted her vision and 'smirked'. A little Slythie out of bed. Wonderful. She meowed and trotted a bit faster, but stopped dead in her tracks when she realized she was splashing water over herself. Frowning and groaning, she let the boy disappear.

While Mrs Norris was having issues with water and Myrtle, Blaise Zabini was having issues with his conscience. He was jogging silently through the halls, not actually really caring if he got caught. He deserved it anyway.

He looked through a window but the night was still pitch black. It was only five am. He needed to talk to Draco though. After having thrashed around in his bed for hours, he had come to the conclusion that he would not get any rest before having talked to his friend.

Blaise sneaked his head through the door of the infirmary and saw that everything was quiet. He could hear Madam Pomfrey's snores through her door and breathed in relief: he wasn't sure he wanted another confrontation with the nurse.

"Draco, wake up," he whispered softly.

The blonde boy stirred and rolled on his other side. "Draco, wake up!"

This time, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What's going on?" he slurred his voice still thick with sleep.

Blaise was hurt to see that there was fear in his friend's eyes when he saw that it was Blaise waking him up. Draco quickly hid all of that behind his ice mask though.

"What do you want Zabini?" he asked coldly.

"I want to apologize."

"Go back to sleep Zabini," the blonde boy replied, lying back down and curling up on his side.

"No, Draco, you have to listen to me! I'm sorry for what I did, I truly am. I needed to make you understand-"

"Understand?" Draco laughed bitterly. "I hope you're kidding."

Blaise cast his eyes to the stone floor and sighed. He had known Draco would be difficult but this was far beyond frustrating.

"No, I needed to make you understand the effect you have on people when you pull that kind of stunt." He marched around the bed to face Draco but the latter rolled over as soon as Blaise reached the other side. Blaise sighed again.

"I lost it Draco for Merlin's sake. Put yourself in my place for two seconds! How would you feel if Ginny did something like that? Wouldn't you be worried out of your mind? I lost control, I'm sorry. I should never have hurt you the way I did."

"Then why did you fucking do it?"

"Because I'm your friend, idiot. And you needed a damn slap in the face to wake up!" Blaise was getting mad again, he knew it. He passed a shaky hand through his already messed up hair. "I know what you're comparing me to now. I know I reminded you of Lucius."

He saw Draco's body stiffen but went on nevertheless. "I don't know if I'll ever regain your trust. I doubt it, but I needed to apologize anyway. I did this because I care, not to take my anger out on you. I know you hate me, but I'm not going to let you fall off the face of this planet. I'm still going to be a pain in your neck, whether you want it or not. Just because I care."

Now the black haired boy didn't know what else to say. He made his way back to the door, hoping that eventually, his words would go through Draco's impossible wards. He hoped they would, even if the chance of that was tiny.

"Blaise."

He stopped with his hand on the handle but didn't dare turn around. "Yeah?"

"Next time, slap me, don't rip off my arm."

Blaise chuckled softly. "Okay mate. Good night."

"Night," a sleepy voice answered.