Don't Cry, Ginny

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the Harry Potter characters, if I did, I'd be J.K. Rowling, and I don't think she'd spend her time writing fanfics for her own book. That's just SILLY!

The first time she tried it, he was there, and he was watching. She slipped into the safety of the darkness and pulled out the pocketknife she had gotten as a gift. At first, she thought, what good would a pocketknife do? But the small, red, gleaming knife soon became her closest friend, releasing her of her pain and torment every night in the dark corners of her four poster bed.

Ginny Weasley was a shy, timid girl. She was pretty, but not in a striking way. You had to look long and deep to see that she was a real beauty, inside and out. The problem was, nobody really bothered to take a second look at the littlest Weasley. She was just that: another Weasley. She wasn't a prankster, like Fred or George, and she wasn't friends with anyone special, either, like Ron was. She was plain old Ginny Weasley: red hair, freckles, and second-hand robes.

After her first year at Hogwarts, life became Hell for Ginny. News travelled fast, and in no time at all, people were staring and whispering about her as she walked past. Her supposed friends had ditched her, for fear of being her next victim, even though that was a silly thought, for she no longer possessed the diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Still, everyone kept a safe distance from her (10 feet). The only people brave enough to approach her was the Golden Trio. Ron tried to help her through the whole ordeal, but ended up failing miserably, for he could not understand what she had gone through.

Finally, during her 5th year, she had a mental breakdown in Advanced Potions. Let's just say, Snape was not very comforting. The students in her Potions class spread the word around school, and everyone upped the safe-distance to 15 feet. Miserable and confused, Ginny fled the classroom as soon as the bell rang. Ron stood by her hesitantly, unsure of what to do. When she wiped her tears and told him to go, he sped off faster than a Firebolt. It was then, in that moment, that she decided to try something she had heard Muggles did to relieve their pain and agony. She cut.

Every night in the safety of her bed, she drew the curtains and pulled out her knife. Seeing the bloody flow out of her wrist had a strangely calming effect on her. It was as if the pain and hurt she felt inside were flowing out of her wrists instead of her blood.

Ever since his second year, when the whole school found out who opened the Chamber, he watched her. He noticed her. Not in the way the other kids did, not in fear. He recognized that look on her face. It was one his mother always wore after a fierce beating from his father. It was a look of pure agony, both mentally and emotionally. When he saw her like this, he wanted to reach out and comfort her. Just hold her in his arms and tell her it was all right to cry her heart out.

He continued to watch her from a distance, always fighting the urge to just wrap her up in his arms and carry her away from all this pain and misery she felt. Everyday in the Great Hall, he watched her. At breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She always sat alone, he noticed that. Sometimes she read a book, sometimes she stared at her food. But most of the time she stared longingly at the people around her, talking and laughing happily with their friends. One time, she even stared at him. He quickly diverted his eyes when he realized she was actually looking at him and that he wasn't dreaming.

Now it was his sixth year, and nothing had changed. People still stared at Ginny like she was a freak and walked quickly past her, avoiding her eyes. Although, when she had a breakdown in Potions, people did start walking an even farther distance away from her, if possible. He remembered that day vividly. He had been stirring his cauldron, when there was a sudden outburst on the other side of the room. Ginny was crumpled on the floor, crying in a miserable heap, and no one made a move to comfort her. How he longed to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. But, as usual, he restrained and, with much difficulty, kept his mouth shut.

One day during breakfast, his eyes landed on Ginny's usual seat, but surprisingly found it empty. He scanned the Great Hall, hoping for a glimpse of her, but the only redhead at the Gryffindor table was Ron Weasley.

"Strange," he muttered to himself. Remembering the day she began cutting herself, Draco panicked and got up to look for her. After thoroughly searching the school, he stepped out onto the grounds. Sure enough, he saw a fragile young girl with red hair sitting by the lake. No, not sitting, laying. But what was she doing laying on the ground? And what were those puddles surrounding her?

Herushed over to her side, gasping at the sight he took in. She was barely conscious and was surrounded by puddles of blood, which was steadily flowing from both her wrists. The sight of her in such a weak and vulnerable state made his heart break. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, lifting up her neck.

"Please, don't cry, Ginny," he sobbed into her neck as he wiped away her tears with his thumb. "Don't die," he breathed desperately, slipping his other arm under her knees and getting up to his feet. Laying in the puddles of blood was a small, red pocketknife, gleaming in the sunlight and stained with her blood. He picked it up, put it in his pocket, and began carrying her to the Hospital Wing. Draco's desperate movements shook Ginny awake.

"What's happening? Who...Malfoy?" Ginny asked weakly before falling unconscious again.

Ginny's eyelids fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was Madam Pomfrey, bustling around and mixing potions. She propped herself up on her elbows, which attracted Madam Pomfrey's attention.

"Ah, I see you are up. Here, drink this potion. It should help you regain most of the blood you lost." She said briskly as she pushed a cup filled with a gooey, red substance into Ginny's hands. She forced the terrible potion down her throat and set the cup back down on the table.

"Who brought me here?" Ginny asked curiously. She had seriously thought none of the other students would come close enough to actually carry her back to the Hospital Wing. Perhaps a teacher found her...

"Draco Malfoy, actually. Quite a strange sight. He burst through the doors, with your blood all over his robes and you still curled up in his arms. Said he found you by the lake. Looked quite worried, too. Wouldn't leave, even for classes! I had to lock the doors to keep him out!" Madam Pomfrey answered, taking the cup away and handing Ginny a cup of water.

Ginny felt sudden, jerky movements and she opened her eyes to reveal a handsome face with silvery blond hair and grey eyes that were filled Sincere concern. Not something she saw very often.

She fought to keep her eyes open, to confirm it was who she thought it was, but she slipped back into unconsciousness and her mind was filled with darkness once more.

So it was who she thought it had been.