She walked briskly down the empty corridor, cinnamon eyes focused on the door at the end of the hallway. Her bag hung across her body, bumping into her slender hips with every stride. Her hair was up, though several tendrils twisted their way down to rest on her shoulders. The threadbare robes she wore were too long for her petite shape, occasionally catching under her second-hand shoes. Her breathing was even as one hand rested on the satchel, halting the movement of the bag.
She arrived at the empty classroom, glancing to her right before opening the door and slipping inside. Dust covered the desks pushed against the back wall, but the floor was clean as if a house elf had just swept and mopped it. The three windows showed the dark night's sky, millions of stars scattered against the black heavens as if a child had grabbed a handful of sand and thrown it up over his head. The room arched up, a huge amount of space enclosed in the classroom.
She dropped her bag with a solid thud, allowing a small, lopsided smile to flit across her face. She was finally alone. No one would tease her about her cheap clothes, or her red hair, or her brothers. No one would break down the confidence she struggled to build up every day. I can be myself for once, she mused as she tugged her robes off. Her uniform followed, and she reached into her bag to pull out a pair of soft trousers and a plain gray shirt. She left her uniform in a messy pile as she let her hair flow down her back, closing her eyes as she rolled her neck from one side to the other. She reached high above her, feeling her muscles tense with the motion then relax. She bent at the waist, her fingertips brushing her sock-covered toes as her hamstrings screamed in protest. She gave one final shake, feeling her body loosen up.
Ginny walked gracefully to an old phonograph tucked in the corner of the classroom, tapping it with her wand. Music began to flow from the device, the notes almost visible in their beauty. She walked to the middle of the room, closing her eyes as she began to sway her arms above her head, her hips following a few seconds later. Her body began to weave in time with the music, her movements becoming larger yet still elegant and controlled. She lifted off the floor in a small leap, landing lightly before springing off again. Her body was free, almost wavering in the dim light that radiated from several sconces placed around the classroom. Her strong leg muscles propelled her in the air in such a fluid motion that she nearly hung in the air before falling back to the ground, dropping to her knees.
She hung her head, resting her forehead on her knees as she breathed deeply. Sweat dripped from her face down to her heaving chest. She pulled off her shirt, feeling the cool air wrap around her damp torso. Her body angrily protested her dancing, her heart and lungs almost screaming. She didn't see the silhouette against the window, curiously peering in as she lifted her tired body up to dance again. Memories whipped through her mind as she twirled in time to the slow, painful notes. Her father's weak body in St. Mungo's. Dumbledore dying. Harry breaking up with her. The taunts that followed her through the corridors, from class to class. They crept into her room at night, burrowing themselves into her heart, making her feel worthless and pathetic and, worst of all, weak.
The music stopped, but Ginny kept dancing. She was releasing all of the negatives that had plagued her life lately through her sweat and, she noticed, her blood, as a callous on her heel burst and sent her flying to the floor. She hit the wood hard, landing on her forearms. She bit her tongue, spitting out blood before forcing herself to rise again.
She moved slower this time, eyes open and staring at the high ceiling. Her shoulders rose in a stretch, and tears began to fall from her auburn eyes. She bit her lip lightly, feeling the tears slide down her neck. Movement from under the door caught her attention and she stood still, watching as the solid light was broken by what looked like foot steps. She frowned, going back to her silent dance. It was most likely Filch, scowling as he limped through the corridor looking for students out of bed.
She arched her back as she rose to her tiptoes, holding the pose while her hands came together above her head. Sweat and tears mingled together, running down her face.
The door to the classroom opened quickly, then closed quietly. Ginny's eyes snapped open, focusing on Malfoy. He edged himself near the doorframe in order to peek through the tiny crack of light.
"What are you do–"
"Shush," Malfoy waved his hand without looking at her, muttering as he flicked his wand at the lights. The lights went off, plunging them both into darkness. Ginny angrily brushed the tears and sweat from her face, wiping her hands on her trousers. Both were quiet, Malfoy looking into the corridor as Ginny stared at the blonde. Finally Malfoy took out his wand and muttered "Lumos", blinking as he adjusted to the light.
"Sorry. Filch was out there, and I know you usually dance in here. Didn't want you to get detention." He shrugged, taking in Ginny's sweaty body. She sized him up, noticing two small diamonds in his ears and paint spattered on his arms. He loosely crossed his arms, his blue sleeves rolled up to his elbow. She frowned.
"How do you know I dance?"
He shrugged.
"I do Prefect duty almost every night, and sometimes I hear the music. This was the first time I saw you dance, though. It was beautiful," he added, giving her a small smile.
"Sure. And tomorrow there'll be some rumor about how I sit in abandoned classrooms and cry. You're so full of yourself." She furiously walked to her bag, yanking her jumper over her head.
"I'm not like that, or like them." He waved his hand out to indicate the rest of the school. "I know what it's like to be bullied."
"I'm not being bullied," Ginny spat, turning to face him. "I'm not six years old. I'm being tortured," she added in a whisper, looking down at her hands. Malfoy nodded.
"I know what it's like," he said quietly. He scratched off a spot of blue paint as Ginny took a deep breath. Suddenly, she trusted him. She didn't know why, or how, but she knew that she could trust him.
"Sometimes, I just lose myself in dancing, in the music, and I never want to come back out. It's my escape." He nodded again.
"That's how I feel about painting. You can go places that are better than reality."
She gave him a small smile, lifting her bag to her shoulder and digging around in the side pocket.
"Want a caramel?"
He furrowed his brows, giving her a quizzical look as they walked to the door.
"What's a cara-mel?" She laughed.
"Just eat it," she advised, unwrapping the candy and placing it in his hand. He opened the door for her with one hand as he popped the candy into his mouth with the other.
"It's gwood," he approved around a mouthful of sticky candy. Ginny smiled again, then beamed as he loosely grabbed her hand and walked with her down the long, dark hallway.
Tada! This was written for Britt's challenge at the D/G Forum: Base the story on one of the "arts" ex. painting, dance, music, etc. Bonus points for an appearance of jewels, Draco or Ginny eating a candy, and the phrase "I lose myself in (whatever) and never want to come back out". 500 word minimum (this is around 1,340), rating is no higher than T.
I had a lot of fun writing this, and I'm really happy with how this turned out :)