A/N: I'm back! I know it's been a few months since Victimized ended, and I know I said I'd start working on this story again ASAP, but I've been very busy what with graduating from high school and working on three separate novels. But I had a dream last night about Ginny and Draco and I woke up this morning and decided I wanted to start working on this fic again. I'll be fixing the first five chapters to suit my new plot, which is slightly altered, and then I'll finish up.

Gin Weasley won't be nearly as long as Silent Secrets or Victimized, nor as dramatic and gory. It's going to be more a light, humorous story based off of an anime entitled Nanaka 6/17, in which a girl named Nanaka hits her head and suddenly thinks she is 6 years old again. However, if you've seen the anime, don't expect it to be exactly the same, as I'm mostly just taking the basic idea and running with it.

This will probably be the last fanfic that I write, at least for a very long time, as I'm hoping to have a few novels done sometime in the next year and start looking for a publicist. Now, on to the story!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The blonde boy snuck into the garden quietly. A small, red haired girl sat there, surrounded by the mistress's house kittens and caged doves. Her curly red hair surrounded her heart shaped face and fell in soft ringlets around her shoulders. Freckles were sprinkled across her small nose. There was always an impish smirk to her pouty lips. She looked up at him with her hazelnut eyes, sparkling with mischief, and grinned. The five year old girl ran to the boy and embraced him in a tight hug.

"Draco, I'm so glad you made it out of the house safe!"

The grey eyed boy grinned at her and held out his hand. "Happy birthday! Open it. open it!"
She tore open her present and gasped at the object inside. A crystal necklace, teardrop in shape, with translucent swirling colors inside of it. If stared at too long the colors would make one dizzy until they were put under a trance. They seemed to swirl and flow like water, magic and secrets laced within their hidden shadows.

"Draco! I couldn't receive this; it must have cost a fortune! Take it back!" She had always been stingy when it came to money. It came with being the youngest of seven siblings.

"No, I got it for you. It's a promise stone. In this stone I seal my promise that I will be your friend forever."

"A year from now?" The redhead asked skeptically.

"A year from now." He promised.

"Five years from now?" She tested.

"Five years from now." He repeated.

"Ten, eleven, twelve years from now?!" Her voice had become so hysterically loud he had to silence her to keep from waking his parents. When one was so young, twelve years seemed a lifetime away.

In a whisper, the boy swore, "I, Draco Malfoy, promise that I will be your, Ginny Weasley's, best friend twelve years from now, and forever more, or suffer the consequences of this promise necklace."

A bright light shown out of the necklace, only for the smallest fraction of a second, before it disappeared into the darkness. The girl threw her arms around the little boy and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you so much Draco! This is the best fifth birthday gift ever! But I have to go now! I'll see you later!"

She ran out of the courtyard and under a break in the fence, looking back only once to grin at him under the brightly shining stars.

Long after she left the boy still stood in the courtyard, looking after the little girl who lived only a mile away, her house a fifteen minute walk down a moonlight path through the woods that only the two of them knew about. He touched the spot on his cheek where she had kissed him and smiled.

"Happy birthday love." With that he walked back into Malfoy Manor.

He moved away the next day, to a bigger plot of land on the other side of London. They did not see each other again except for at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where their house rivalry stopped them from staying friends. Eventually their friendship faded away until it was nothing but a thought on the wind. Until one fateful morning, twelve years later, on the seventeenth birthday of Ginny Weasley.

------------------------------------------------Twelve Years Later---------------------------------------------

Ginevra Weasley sighed and set down the book she was reading. Someone was standing in her light. Blowing a strand of unruly, waist length red hair out of her face, she lifted her brown eyes up to the figure and glared. A tall boy stood above her, smirking that trademark Slytherin smirk. They oughta get those smirks patented. The boy glanced over his pointy nose with silver eyes full of loathing, his perfectly straight, white teeth and layered, chin length hair groomed and combed to absolute faultlessness.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the littlest Weasellette. What are you doing out here all by yourself Weasellette, reading a book? Or were you just trying to avoid your old Slytherin buddy Zabini?"

Another boy stepped from behind the tree she was leaning against. He was a little taller than Draco Malfoy, making him a giant compared to Ginny, his dark skin and exotic voice cooed over by many girls in Ginny's year. Personally, Ginny found them both too damn annoying to possibly think of them as attractive.

She glared and closed her book, more than a thousand pages and elaborate enough to send Hermione Granger running for her money, and stood up to her full height, a pathetic one and a half meters, requiring her to crane her neck to even look up at the boys. Pathetic, but it was admittedly all she had going for her. She turned on her heel abruptly, not at the least in the mood for a confrontation, only for a hand to shoot out and hold her back.

"Come on princess, let's have a little fun. Just you and two hot Slytherin sex gods. I know a real great place we could go." Blaise Zabini whispered in her ear in a husky voice, a voice that did not at all have any affect on her, other than to make her want to retch.

"Not in your life Zabini," she said, pushing his arm away and glaring at them. "Touch me one more time and I swear you'll regret being born!"

"What are you going to do Weasellette? Hit me with a Bat Bogey hex? Or call help and have Harry Potter run out of hiding to rescue you?" The boys laughed raucously.

She hated Draco Malfoy, and that comment about Harry especially stung. Even though she no longer had a crush on him, she was still slightly bitter he broke up with her at the end of last year. She was especially bitter that he, Ron, and Hermione ran off to find Horcruxes without her, leaving her all alone to attend her sixth year at Hogwarts. It was bad enough with Dumbledore dead, but now Malfoy, of all people, had been allowed back in the school, and she had no one except Luna to keep her company of any kind. Of course, she'd grown quite fond of the loony girl, but it still stung, them leaving her behind like a fragile piece of glass.

But Malfoy! She absolutely loathed that boy! He was arrogant, rude, rich, spoiled, and just plain annoying! There were all sorts of rumors as to how he was allowed back into Hogwarts, ranging from his father buying him in to him threatening Headmistress McGonnogal. She didn't put any of those underhanded rumors beyond him.

"Hey Weasellette, what book you reading?" Draco Malfoy asked, snatching her book from her arms and holding it up, reading the title out loud. "LOVE: A collection of romance stories and poems."

The boys laughed loudly, much to Ginevra's embarrassment. She could feel herself blushing a deeper shade of red with each second that passed.

"Reading romances now, Ginevra? Are you that desperate without Potter?!" The boys held each other, shaking with laughter, tears streaming down their faces.

She growled deep in her throat and snatched her book back. Or at least attempted to snatch her book back. Draco Malfoy, that insufferable, tall git, held it over her head, just out of reach of her hand. She jumped and she hopped, but did not manage to get it back. "Give me my book back Malfoy!" She yelled.

She wasn't so irritated about them reading the title, really. It was the only thing she could think up on the spot to hide the true nature of the book. It was a pretty weak glamour, really, but that's what the tome, which she had bought in Knockturn Alley over the summer, was about. Ancient magic and dark mysticism. Amongst its delving into the history of magic were guidelines to wandless and wordless magic as well as performing darker hexes not taught in school. Ginny figured if she wanted to fight in the war against the Death Eaters someday, she'd better learn how to play their game. Not to mention, she was curious.

"Now what's the magic word Weasellette?" he asked, his voice sickeningly sweet and obnoxious.

"Oi love, what is this? A pretty little necklace you got here." She looked a Zabini. He was holding a crystal stone tied to a black leather strap. Her mother had sent it to her in the mail by owl post that morning, claiming she had been cleaning out the attack when she found it in Ginny's box of child things, along with some clothes and many embarrassing naked baby photos. Ginny had blushed deeply at the photos but been intrigued by the necklace. Somehow it seemed oddly familiar to her, though she couldn't quite place her finger on where she had gotten it. Either way, she had shrugged it off and figured she would look it up later in the library, her usual haunt. She had stuck it in her robes pocket and it must have fallen out with all the jumping and hopping she had done attempting to reach her book from Draco Malfoy's hand.

"Hey, let me see that. It looks oddly familiar," Malfoy said, stealing it from the Zabini boy and examining it closely. Ginny snatched her book from his arm as he studied the crystal, turning it over in his hand. "Looks expensive. Well, for a Weasley, anyway. What poor vagabond did you have to steal it from?"

Her cheeks burned red with anger and wounded pride, but she was tired of being their charade and wanted nothing more than to just leave. Still, that didn't stop her mouth from blurting the first thing that came to it. "The same one you steal your pick-up lines and insults from, Malfoy. Just give me my necklace back now." She held out a hand, palm up.

To her surprise Draco Malfoy shrugged and laid the stone in her hand.

And that was when it happened.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco Malfoy saw the Weasellette sitting by herself under the apple tree reading yet another thick book. It had been him who had suggested that they go and bother her, having nothing else to do on a laid-back Sunday afternoon only a month into classes. Zabini agreed immediately, licking his lips and looking at the girl with a gleam in his eyes. It was no secret to Draco Malfoy how he felt about the girl. How he felt about every girl he ever met, really. He merely rolled his eyes. It wasn't that she wasn't a looker, she was by far one of the prettiest girls in school. She was also by far one of the feistiest. And one of the most wanted.

And she had no clue that a large percentage of the male population drooled over her.

Ginny Weasley, or Ginevra, as she liked to be called lately, was quite a mystery. She was a bookworm like Granger, but had the hots of some of the most beautiful Hogwarts girls. In the past she'd put out, or so many Gryffindor boys claimed, though Draco doubted how much of their boasting was true. She made good grades and didn't talk much. She hated attention. The girl had turned down two offers to be Prefect. She had also turned down every guy that had asked her out since she was dumped by Potter, no doubt still madly in love with the idiot.

She was beautiful in an exotic way. She had long, blood red, curly hair that reached to her back and light brown eyes. Her sharp features made her look like some sort of fairy or nymph. Even under the baggy clothes that she wore, a prominent figure could be seen. She tried not to attract too much attention, wearing baggy boy pants and large shirts, with faded grey cloaks that trailed after her feet and often fell over her hands. She was short and tended to blush constantly for any reason, usually unbeknownst to the blushee.

Draco Malfoy had to admit she was not sore on the eyes. But Blaise Zabini, Blaise Zabini drooled over the girl day and night. It was evident to all of the Slytherins how badly he wanted to get in the girl's pants, and how many times he had attempted. Zabini was the Slytherin Sex God. He had earned the titled by bedding almost every pretty Slytherin in school. He had snagged quite a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well, claiming they would do almost anything if you told them you loved them. He had even been known to have gotten one or two Gryffindors. But Ginny Weasley was quite obviously his main focus of attention. For now anyway. As soon as he got in her pants, he would toss her away like he did all the others. Draco only knew too well.

He couldn't exactly remember all that happened. They had argued and shared insults. He stole her book, a surprisingly heavy one (he did play Quidditch and have a very strong upper body) some romance or other and teased her to no end about it. Then Zabini had found some necklace lying on the grass, belonging to the Weasley.

Something about the necklace was oddly…intriguing. He snatched it from Blaise's hand and examined it in his hand, weighing it. It was a real crystal, that was for sure. But that was not what made it so intriguing. Inside of the stone swirled and elaborate array of colors, blurring in and out of a small heart seemingly suspended in the middle.

"Just give me my necklace back Malfoy," she had whined, holding out her hand. He figured they had tortured the poor girl enough and dropped the necklace in her open palm.

And then it happened.

A bright flash of light and color erupted between them, coming from the stone itself. He was literally hurled (quite unMalfoy-like) onto his butt. After regaining his composure he examined himself. Nails perfectly immaculate, a few grass stains on his shirt, but nothing that couldn't come out, hair still in tact…He looked up for the Weasley girl, only to see her lying on the grass, seemingly unconscious. Standing and walking over to her, he yelled out, "Hey Zabini! Come help me. I think she was knocked unconscious."
He heard a groan and looked over his shoulder to see Zabini sitting up in the grass, clutching at his head. "What was that man? Some kind of freaky magic came from that necklace."

"Thank you for stating the obvious Zabini. Now come on. We have to get her up to the hospital wing."

Draco was never one to be nice to girls, or to anyone, for that matter. But he felt strangely guilty for what had just happened, and he didn't want to leave the poor girl laying in the grass for any random slob, or Zabini, to come by and fool around with her. They had preceded to do so, Draco carrying the girl in his arms (she was surprisingly light) and Zabini tagging along, opening the doors for him. Upon reaching the hospital wing Blaise pounded on the door yelling, "Hey, lady, open up, we've got a patient."

"What is it?" Madame Promfrey threw open the doors. She immediately began calling out orders like a drill sergeant, making Draco set the girl on the bed and sending Blaise to get the headmistress. Draco sat in a chair, commanded not to leave until he explained to the headmistress exactly what had happened with this mysterious new necklace (the school had been tightening its investigation on any odd objects or occurrences since the death of Dumbledore). Draco uneasily shifted in his chair as he waited, knowing how much McGonnogal hated him and would find any excuse to kick him out of Hogwarts. When she finally arrived, Weasley had begun to stir beside him. They all looked over at the girl curiously.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Gin opened her eyes and looked around. It was bright and there was a lot of white around her. White curtains, white bed sheet, white walls, white ceiling, and white floors. Gin hated white; it was sooooo boring, unlike purple, green, and blue, her three favorite colors. A woman, her hair pulled so tightly into a bun that it pulled on all of the skin around her face, turned to Ginny with a stern look.

"Miss Weasley, how nice of you to join us. You had quite a nasty spell there, so I hear. Supposedly a…necklace," she arched an eyebrow, "caused you to become unconscious. I highly doubt that. How about if you told me what happened and clear things up so we can…take the proper course of action." Where was she? She wasn't at home. She wasn't outside. All of this white was blinding her.

"Mr. Mafloy brought you up here. Can you tell me exactly what you remember?"

"Draco's here?!" she asked, her face lighting up. "Where is he, where is he? Where am I? Where is my mom and dad and brothers?" she had begun to tear up, she knew it. Her brothers always said not to cry, that crying was for girls, but sometimes she couldn't help it. Was she in a hospital? Has she done something wrong? Had something happened to her parents?

"Weasley, are you okay?" asked a deep male voice behind her. She turned to see…Draco?

Only he looked different. More grown up. He had stubble on his cheek and his hair was longer. And he had grown big! But either way, there was Draco, most certainly Draco Malfoy, in this swarm of people she did not know who were questioning her.

"Draco!" she yelled, jumping off of her hospital bed and on him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his middle like she always did when she was happy to see him, which was every time she saw him.

"Weasly? What the hell are you doing?" asked the distraught boy. Draco Malfoy stared at the girl as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He had to admit, it wasn't an uncomfortable position, what with her chest pressed up against him as such.

"Mr. Malfoy! Watch your language! Ms. Weasley, would you please refrain from this…this…"

"Draco, who are all of these people and why are they asking all these questions? And where are my mum and da and brothers? And where are we? And why do you look so different. You have something on your chin." The girl continued talking, her mouth moving faster than he could keep up with. He looked to Headmistress McGonnogal for help.

"Miss Weasley," the professor said, clearing her throat. Not getting her attention she did so again. "Miss Weasley!"

She looked up. "Yes sir?" Ginny began to snort, then to giggle. She thought she even heard a few chuckles from Draco.

The woman was clearly not amused. "Ms. Weasley, please refrain from behaving so inappropriately. Tell me, what do you remember?"

"I was at Draco's house cause it's my birthday and he said he had a present to give me and he gave me my necklace and then he promised that we would be friends forever, and now I'm here."

The woman stared at her in shocked surprise. "You were at Mr. Malfoy's house?" She seemed clearly confused.

"Yes. I already told you. Today is my fifth birthday!"

There was a stunned silence in the room. "Your…fifth…birthday?"

"Headmistress, I had nothing to do with this, I swear," Draco claimed, lifting both hands in the air as if to prove his innocence. "I was just talking to her and then there was this flash of light and she fell, and I dunno, maybe she hit her head or something—"

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, you can go now." Draco wasn't really sure how he was supposed to do with the girl still clinging to him. He gently dislodged her appendages from around his body and set her down in the bed as if she weighed no more than a rag doll. As he left the room, Draco heard the headmistress asking, "Ms. Weasley, what is your full name?"

"Ginevra Molly Weasley! But you can call me Gin, or Ginger, or Ginny, or Gin Gin, or Gin and Tonic, or Gin Bug, or-"

"Ahh, Ginny. And who are your mother and father?"

"My mom is Molly Weasley and my da is Arthur Weasley, and I have six brothers: Charlie, Percy, Bill, Fred and George, they're twins, and Ron. And Draco is my seventh brother!"

Draco froze, his shoulders hunching. He hurried to the door.

"Ah, and how old are you?"

"Five years old today!"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Minerva sat at the Headmaster's desk, she still wasn't comfortable thinking of it as her own, and stared into space, trying to figure out how to solve her newest problem. It was hard enough running a school in the midst of war. Layer being a member of the Order of the Phoenix on top of that and they should call her a damn saint. But now this? The youngest Weasley girl thought she was five years old? She contemplated what to do.

Madame Promfey had done all the tests on Ginny Weasley she could think of. The magic that had been used on her was nothing they had ever seen before. It was not a spell to erase her memory. In fact, there was no trace of any spell on her at all. They had examined her head the muggle way to check for what muggles called concussions, but that proved useless. She wondered if the ridiculous story the Malfoy boy had thought up was more than just a lame excuse to avoid punishment.

Everything had turned up inconclusive. She didn't know how to help the girl, and she had no evidence with which to suspend or expel the boy from Hogwarts, not for lack of trying, of course. Ever since the Ministry had become corrupted by Death Eaters, even aiding in the murder of Albus Dumbledore was not enough to get a student expelled, much less thrown in Azkaban, where he ought to be.

But she simply couldn't leave the girl in the state she was in. She was the daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley, two of the biggest Order activists. But she didn't want to bother them with this ill news of their daughter when it may just be a passing thing. After all, they had a war to fight, and it was the best for everyone if they were not distracted.

"Oh, Albus, help me. What do I do?" Minerva buried her head in her hands.

"Well, I should think that's quite obvious." The Headmistress jumped with a yelp, spinning in her chair to stare at Dumbledore's picture behind her. Their was the usual twinkle of life in his eyes as he smiled down at McGonnogal. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but word travels quickly in Hogwarts, especially from portrait to portrait. I heard what happened to young Ms. Weasley."

"Yes. It's a disaster. She thinks she's five years old. I'm afraid I'll have to make her leave the school and return to her home, but…this is the safest place for the students right now, for anyone right now. I don't want to simply turn her out just because of a spell gone awry."

"Nor should you," he agreed. "It is not your choice to do so. However, there come certain dangers with a girl thinking she is the wrong age."

"You…you don't think anyone would try to take advantage of her?"

"She would perhaps be more of a danger outside of Hogwarts walls than inside, should any Death Eaters lay hands on her. And even in Hogwarts, she should be kept a careful eye on."

"But by whom? I haven't the time to spend watching over one girl! And her brother and friends are no longer here to do so. Who would possibly want to be her keeper?"

"Perhaps someone she is close to? A friend of hers?"

Minerva stared at him for a long time, trying to see through his mischievous smirk to his true intentions. Finally, she gasped in shock. "No! You couldn't mean…but he…he is a Death Eater! He tried to kill you! It's because of him that you're…you're…" It was hard to tell a portrait of a man that you were talking to face to face that he was no longer in existence.

"Dead? Yes, that's true. He did have a hand in it. But he was pressured."

"Pressured!" she scoffed, standing up and pacing the room in a rave.

"By his family, by his society, by the Dark Lord. That is a lot for a young boy to handle. He had very few options at hand, each one worse than the last."

"And now you think I should let him take care of a girl who thinks she's five years old. A girl with dire knowledge of the Order of the Phoenix. A girl you just claimed could endanger the entire Order with her knowledge now stored in a mind ill-equipped to handle torture or even the simplest of social interactions?! And you want me to lay her in the hands of a murderer?!"

The painting of Dumbledore held up a calming hand. "He is not a murderer. You are accusing him of a crime he did not commit."

"He had a hand in it!"

"He did not hold the wand that cast the spell, Minerva! And the hand that did hold it is forever forgiven in my book. But that is not what we are discussing. If you are so worried about the boy repeating last year's events, what a better way to keep him busy than by assigning him to be the caretaker of young Ginevra Weasley. And, if she can not remember anything before her fifth birthday, then she can't truly be a danger to the Order, at least not until she begins to regain her memory. Besides, she seems quite taken with him, and the best way for her to return to normal is to follow the same normal routine she has up until now."

"That routine never involved Draco Malfoy."

"No, but she seems to think he is her friend, and I'm sure if she is comfortable around him, she will begin to remember who she is. Besides, shouldn't we always learn to forgive and give others second chances?"

Minerva stared at the painting for a long time. "I don't know if I like this suggestion…I always did think you were a bit too eccentric Albus. But I respect you more than I do any other wizard in this world." She sighed in exasperation. "I suppose we will try it, for a time. If only to keep the boy out of trouble."

Dumbledore smiled. "Wonderful."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Five…years…old? Ginevra Weasley thought she was five years old? The wheels in Draco's head began to spin. This was great, this was grand. Ginny Weasley thought she was a five years old! The Slytherins would be shocked when they found out! Oh, the gossip and chaos he could start with this kind of information! This was going to be so…

"And Draco Malfoy is my best friend!" The words echoed in his head over and over again, despite the fact that he'd heard them said nearly five hours ago.

Horrible.

Best friend? Best friend? Where did she get that from?! He was perfectly fine with torturing the girl with her sudden loss of memory. He was sure it wouldn't last more than a few hours, days at most, after all, and he and Zabini could use it against her forever. But now she suddenly thought he was her friend? How hard had the girl hit her head?

And now McGonnogal of all people wanted Draco to be her keeper? To tote her around to all of his classes like a little puppy dog under the façade that she was gaining a higher level of learning because she was so damn smart (which she had been, before hitting her head, anyway). The bloody woman wanted him to keep an eye on her 24/7 with the exception of at night, as he was supposed to drop her off at her house at nine o'clock sharp and pick her up before breakfast. And it wasn't like he could tell her no. The damn woman was always breathing down his neck, waiting for him to slip up so she could kick him out of Hogwarts. He wouldn't be surprised if he woke up one night to find her leaning over his bed with a dagger to thrust through his heart. His hands were tied. He was now Ginny Weasley's keeper.

Draco Malfoy's life officially sucked.