Two Sides of the Same Coin(DRARRY)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"But, commonly, men are as much afraid of love as of hate." - Henry David Thoreau

Ginny watched from the front steps of the castle as a lone owl descended through the late evening darkness to a shadowy form standing by the edge of the lake, distinguishable only by the hair that glowed softly like a reflection of moonlight on water. She waited until the person had accepted the owl's offering and the owl had flown away before she approached them from behind, her footsteps absorbed by the thick grass of the lawn.

"Draco Malfoy," she said, her quiet voice clear in the nighttime stillness, "we need to talk."

… & …

Ron's owl returned a few minutes later, empty-beaked.

"Nothing?" Harry asked of it as he opened the window to let it in. "Nothing at all?"

The bird flew in and landed on his footboard, putting Harry in the peculiar position of being at eye-level with its unnervingly human-like eyes. The owl cocked its head.

"How did he react? Can you tell me that at least? Was he pleased? Upset? He did read it, didn't he? Do you think he'll come?"

The owl merely ruffled its feathers and shifted on its perch, looking at Harry disdainfully.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not barmy, even I am talking to an owl. It's a perfectly reasonable question! Er, questions. Come on, I'll take anything! He must've reacted somehow!" Harry pleaded.

The bird bent its beak to pick at the underside of its wing.

"Oh, you're no use at all," Harry said. "Hedwig would have had some hint for me."

At this, the owl lunged and nipped Harry's hand with its beak – hard.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed. "Blast! That hurt!" He lifted his hand to his lips to nurse the throbbing red welt that was breaking out across his injured skin.

The owl gave Harry what he interpreted as a supercilious glare, then took off again and fled out the still-open window. Harry closed it behind the bird, muttering, "Ruddy touchy owl..."

… & …

At the sound of his name, Draco turned around to find that the last person he'd ever expect to be snuck up on by had, in fact, snuck up on him.

"Ginny Weasley?" It was perhaps ironic that, being the former darling of Slytherin house (out-of-favor though he now was) and an extremely practiced sneaker in his own right, Draco Malfoy was deplorably easily flustered whenever the tables were turned.

"The one and only," she quipped.

Draco put a hand to his hair self-consciously, feeling suddenly very conspicuous in the dark despite his all-black ensemble. Against all reason, the Weasley's hair was actually less ostentatious in the current setting than his own. Draco felt like he was standing in a spotlight whilst the shadows around Ginny became even murkier in contrast.

"How can I help you?" he asked, not knowing what else to say and feeling increasingly unnerved by the unwavering appraisal of eyes that were every bit as keen as Granger's.

"Oh, I don't think you can," she said. "But I didn't come here to ask for favors for myself."

"I see," he said, though it was far from the truth. He was having trouble processing the pairing of the concepts "Weasley" and "covert encounter." It was clear that Ginny Weasley had little in common with her older brother. "Perhaps we could move somewhere a bit more... concealed?" he suggested.

Ginny nodded and indicated a stand of trees a little ways down the shoreline. They came to a stop in the shadow of an ancient oak and Ginny turned to face him, her face expression brazen.