fAuthor's Note: Typical muse from the song "Pretty Girl" by Sugarcult. A Draco/Ginny ship, in a sense. Read and review, loves, I adore feedback.
Ginny returned to her dormitory in the dead of night, keeping her cloak as close to her body as possible. The shadows cast by the corridor lights gave her enough coverage to hide beneath. Her eyes were lined with tears and traces of mascara streaked her cheeks, a clear reminder that she should stop using the muggle products when she went to see him.
Footsteps rounded on Ginny's thoughts and she pressed herself to a wall, holding her breath as the figure passed by. Expelling what carbon dioxide she could from her lungs, she continued on her merry way, sneaking up the stairs as quietly as possible. Upon reaching the Gryffindor common room, she mumbled the password at the Fat Lady scowled at her before opening. "Batty old woman," she mumbled under her breath as the painting slammed shut behind her.
The warmth of the common room offered a complete turn from the chilling temperature of Blaise's bedroom. "I like being cold, Ginevra," he had said to her, "and I like my room at arctic degrees." She mocked him the minute he turned away from her, rolling her eyes.
Taking a seat on the couch, Ginny looked around suspiciously. She wouldn't stand for being caught in the middle of the night, or others peeking on her to make sure she was okay. Ginny Weasley was fine, she didn't need anybody's help to deal with her problems. Making a mental note that no one was around, she removed her cloak and openly winced.
Her arms were laden with bruises and legs marred with the imperfection of cuts and more bruises. She was almost positive that a couple ribs were cracked and that she'd have a perfectly ugly bruise beneath her right eye tomorrow morning, but she said nothing. Ginny surveyed the damage and took inventory of the cuts, making sure the bruises were recorded, and keeping track of everything else she found on her body.
A voice interrupted her train of thought.
"Ginny? Is that you?"
She struggled to pull the cloak over her body before the familiarity of the masculine tone kicked in. She had just about covered her body when Harry stood before her, frowning and looking at her carefully. "Are you okay?"
Lie, just lie, she told herself. "I'm fine, Harry, why wouldn't I be?" For the most obvious reasons, of course.
"Because you look like you've been crying."
Ginny felt his presence beside her, a sinking in her couch as he placed a hand on her knee. She winced immediately, jerking away due to the bruise that lay beneath his fingers. "I don't know what you're talking about," she forced, "I'm going to my room."
She was up and moving when Harry reached out for her, the tips of his fingers digging into another bruise as he pulled her back. "I'm serious, Gin, are you okay?" For a millisecond she thought about telling him about Blaise, about the abuse, about loving him and not saying anything, but she decided against it.
"I'm fine, Harry, I promise." Gently prying herself out of his grasp, she formulated a smile and kissed him on the cheek, "I'm going to bed." It was a good thing their relationship was mostly platonic, she wasn't sure if she could deal with Ron's big brother syndrome and Harry's addiction to being a hero.
A week later she found herself in a very similar position, except it was Draco Malfoy's hands roughly attached to her waist. "Get off me, Draco, before I hex you."
The blonde gave her a withering glare, intensifying his hold on her, watching her face contort with pain each time he did so. "Not until you admit it," he whispered in a low tone. Somehow, his voice still carried and people still looked, curious why Blaise's girlfriend was looking mighty cozy with Blaise's best friend.
"No," she responded firmly, "not on your life."
"Then I'll just have to tell Potter." Ginny looked positively shell-shocked at the idea, furious that Draco would even think about stooping that low.
"You wouldn't," she challenged.
"Oh, I would," Draco tightened his grip and pulled her close, pinning her body against his own, "and I'd feel no remorse," he whispered in her ear. "Blaise may be my best friend, but I don't condone abuse."
Ginny struggled against his grip for the first time since he put her in it, "Let me go you bloody prat!" Draco only held her tighter, pushing against previously formed bruises, deepening them as he did so.
"Come with me," he growled, finally frustrated with her belief that if she just kept quiet, she would be okay. Draco swept her legs out from under her and carried her up the stairs and turned a door before Blaise's, his room. He dropped the girl on his bed and drew his wand; shutting the door, locking it, and putting a silencing spell on the room. "Stop being a stubborn little bitch and admit that Blaise hits you."
Ginny looked at him with contempt in her eyes, debating whether she could take him or not; Blaise was expecting her and all. "Let's say that hypothetically you were correct about Blaise hitting me." She could see annoyance on Draco's face, but she didn't budge from her position. "What the fuck could you do about it?"
Bitter laughter left Draco's throat, bubbling out of his mouth and hitting Ginny square in the chest. "You really don't know me, do you?" He shook his head, hanging it for a minute before staring her down with his mercury pools. "We've been around each other how long these last few months? You of all people should know that I'm a Malfoy and no one, no one, denies a Malfoy what they want." Ginny looked particularly confused and he shook his head again. "I'd kick his ass for laying a finger on you, Gin, that's what. And then I'd personally tell Professor Dumbledore and make sure he doesn't have the chance to do that to any girl ever again. All you have to do is admit it, because I know those bruises aren't from quidditch."
"Why?" She bit her lip, having a hard time formulating the words to express the thoughts going through her head. "Why would you do that for me?"
It was Draco's turn to initiate an awkward silence, troubling himself with picking the perfect words to explain to the brilliant witch before him that he'd fallen in love with her just like Blaise had. "Because I-I-I care about you." He reprimanded himself for stuttering, something Malfoys never did.
"You-you what?"
Draco cleared his throat, "I consider you a friend now, Ginny, which means I don't want to see you hurt because Blaise is such a prick." His voice seemed an octave higher than usual, but he dismissed it as he walked over to his bed, taking a seat beside the exonerated Ginevra Weasley.
"Thank you," she mumbled almost inaudibly.
"But I can't do anything until you tell me for sure that he hits you." Draco reached out for her chin, tilting it upwards, forcing her to look at him. "No matter what he says, you don't deserve this kind of treatment. Let me help you."
She let out a broken laugh, "Those aren't words I'd expect to hear from a Malfoy." Draco smiled, actually smiled, at what she said. "Um," Ginny was at a loss for the right words, "Blaise, he-he-he gets upset sometimes. And, well, he-he kicks me and punches me and-and-" but she couldn't go on.
Tears were streaming down her face when Draco pulled her closer, embracing her in a hug. His grip was loose, in respect to the bruises Blaise had caused, but tight enough to make her feel safe. "Shh, Gin, shh; it'll be okay." He knew it didn't help, but Draco also knew that anything was better than nothing. Kissing the top of her head, he helped her into his bed as her body grew limp with fatigue.
As soon as she was asleep, Draco reached for his wand and unlocked the door, closing it softly behind him and performing another locking charm. He walked three steps and knocked on Blaise's door before entering after a "come in" came from within.
"Hey Draco," he greeted him with a nod of his head, "you know Gin's coming over, so what brings you?"
"Payback," Draco revealed his wand, "it's a bitch. Crucio!"