Thank You~1

Disclaimer

This is all based on the Harry Potter series so I own nothing. Except some of the plot.

Also this is in Draco's third year and Ginny's second

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Draco POV

I hauled myself slowly through the long eerily dim corridors of late night Hogwarts, every step I took sending a wave of nearly unbearable burning pain through my whole body. This horrible pain made me evaluate my choices prior to this. Even though my legs were gorily torn up with a burning deep gash on my thigh I decided my choices were smart and would save me hell layer.

My legs obviously took the worst of the damage, but I still had many more causing problems. Which only caused me more of a throbbing headache. For instance the one on my ankle was almost as bad and was the one thing that might make me collapse, and the one on my ribs was making it very painful to so much as breath. I hated being weak whether it be mentally or physically. Either were horrible. Any kind of emotions were equally as dangerous as any form of injury.

I honestly expected worse of my first Death Eater training, not that I was really complaining. Who would be?

Being talked down to was the worst part for me. I was rarely ever talked to that way and the very thought of some lowly man thinking himself better than me was infuriating.

He threw every legal and painful curse he could think of off the top of his head probably relishing in the fact he would get to do this again. He was obviously enjoying seeing me in pain which was sickening. How anyone could possibly sleep soundly at night after hurting someone helpless so greatly for no real reason was beyond me. I would have wrung his neck bloody but my father would do worse than what I was getting if he heard I was going against the training.

So I just took it -trying to show as little pain as possible- then was sent off to walk to my quarters without any healing at all. The worst part about the whole experience was realizing that I was really going to be death eater scum. That I might be the vile person to do this to some poor kid like me who didn't even want to be there. I stopped my thoughts from going in that direction, now was not the time or place. My thoughts went back to the task at hand.

I was trying my hardest not to collapse on the ground and give in to the exhaustion I was fighting. Although the more I dragged on the more appealing it seemed to just fall asleep on the floor. Of course it wouldn't be the most comfortable situation, but it would be better than actually moving. Then again I needed to get to my private quarters to heal myself before I could really stop this pain. If I didn't I would probably have some god awful nightmare and wake up several times which always happened when I went to bed with injuries and a worried conscious. Which happened more often then anyone would think.

I heard footsteps. Small, petite, familiar footsteps, obviously a younger girl. I stopped to see if she would stop which she did. I already had an idea who was there, I was only confirmed when I turned to see there was a red headed girl standing there facing me. She was too far away to know who I was, but the hair let me know exactly who she was. Even from a distance and in the dark the Weasley hair stood out.

It was of course Ginny Weasley. Who I had seen many times taking long walks late at night so I wasn't worried about her presence or that she'd talk to me. We had grown a somewhat mutual respect for each other. Which was along the lines of I'll treat you how you treat me. I wasn't all that sure how this respect formed, especially with her supposed to be hating me, but at the moment I was glad it did. We for the most part never spoke to each other except for the occasional 'you dropped something' or some other irrelevant thing that didn't matter.

Once I decided she wasn't going to try and come closer I turned and took one step. I didn't truly think moving after standing for no more than five seconds would be a bad idea. It was of course a horrible idea. The step was much harsher than I had meant it to be causing a burst of pain to shoot up my leg from my ankle. I of course fell onto the hard cold marble floor causing an increase in the already miserable paid .

I cursed and tried to will myself up but ended up falling back to the spot on the floor. When I heard he'd start running I tried to think straight. Obviously she would have questions and obviously I would have to answer or risk the baby weasel looking for her own answers. As she reached me she surprisingly didn't say anything she just knelt down to my side and put my arm over her shoulders then pulled me up to walk and began down the corridor. I kept my usual emotionless expression on, what in the world was this girl doing? I mean helping me? Was she helping me? Was this a trap?

Her poker face made it hard for me to decide whether or not her helping me was a trick or not. She did seem like the kind of irritatingly honorable Gryffindors who would do this out of pure kindness. Yet, she don't have the traditional determined face that most people would have when helping someone.

The girl was smaller than me and was no doubt having a difficult time helping me -which I had subconsciously decided she is doing- So I tried to carry myself as much as possible. As much as I hated to admit it the help she was giving was somewhat needed. Maybe even a little wanted. She first spoke when we came to a turn asked, "So where to?" you could hear the struggle of keeping me up in her voice. I then carried myself even a bit more. I was barely able to croak out the answer, "The dungeons." I internally cringed at my voice, it was exactly how I never wanted it to be. It was practically yelling "help me!" and I hated that to say the least.

Her flinch at how much pain I sounded like I was in told me she actually had at least a bit of good intention. I mean why would she care of how much pain I was in if this was some sort of trap. We struggled down to the dungeons together. The walk felt much longer than it was. Every step felt much less painful then before she was helping me, but it was still just as slow. I stopped her when we got in front of a painting of a dragon. I said my password in the same croaking voice and the portrait swung open.

I wasn't all too worried about her knowing my password at that moment, I'm not sure what it was, maybe the pain was making me delirious. Then the youngest weasel proceeded to lug me through the living area and into my room. She put me on the bed as gently as she could -which wasn't all that gentle- and took off my shirt and pants. She was as red as her hair but quickly regained her composer and looked me over as if assessing the situation. I of course would have been equally uncomfortable if not for the fact I was so close to sleep. I watched as her brow furrowed in thought. She had a worried look in her eyes which soon turned into concentration.

She then started going through my room finding the potions and other healing supplies she needed. I always kept all my healing supplies in the nightstand and under the bed. I was sure she would find everything fairly quick and wouldn't have to search very far. Once I was sure she wasn't going to go through all my things I closed my eyes and relaxed a bit. This was the first time in a long time I didn't have to heal myself. It was a relaxing feeling to know that someone besides yourself don't want you to be in pain.

Once she had all the things needed she started massaging some cream into the gashes on my chest and stomach with her small careful hands. I momentarily could only think of the wonderful feeling. She did the same to my legs then started saying healing spells that I was too tired to really listen to. I was very disappointed she wouldn't be using anymore cream. I didn't even knew I had this wonderful thing in my possession.

By the end of all the healing and potion drinking I was substantially less tired and in no pain. I opened my eyes lazily and saw her cleaning up everything. Her hair tucked neatly behind her ears as she worked meticulously at putting all the potions and supplies back where they had been. That's when I realized she wasn't all that bad looking, not that I would ever say that aloud.

I was amazed at the Weaslette, I never would have thought she of all people would not only be able to help but be willing. Once she was done cleaning up she pulled my covers over me and sat on my bed. It was a caring and nice gesture of her to make. She yawned and then I realized how tired she must be from lugging me around and working. Any other day I wouldn't have cared but she did help me, and I felt I owed her in some kind of way.

"You could sleep here if you want." I stated with my voice back to its normal noncaring tone. She looked down as if contemplating how or if to answer, "That would be nice." She finally decided, but still looked conflicted about the whole matter. Which made perfect sense, I mean her sleeping in the quarters of Draco Malfoy probably seemed like a very bad idea in her mind.

Although I had no selfish intentions for once. If it were anyone else I probably wouldn't have even let them carry me here. I felt like she was someone who could be somewhat trusted. She showed that when she didn't ask questions, she just understood. Which was amazing and hard to come by, someone who just understood.

I nodded handing her a big blanket and a pillow she took them and began to walk out probably planning to make a decent bed out of the couch. Before I could really think I called,"Weasley," She turned and looked at me curiously before I finished with, "thank you". She smiled at me and said, "Anytime Malfoy".

That one exchange spoke volumes, I never say thank you. I even surprised myself, I rarely ever said thank you to my best friends and here I was saying it to the littlest Weasley. I did try to say it with as little emotion as possible, but that smile said she saw past the charade I always had on, which was a bit worrisome, but also was intriguing.

She walked out and closed the door behind her. I looked at the place she stood not too many seconds before. She was an interesting creature, one creature I was supposed to hate. Although I only carried respect for the red head. She could make a rather good friend. That was my last thought before being pulled into a dark sleep.

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