Title: A Broken Clutch

Author: Sacharissa Donerail

Rating: M

Content: adult language, descriptions of m/f

Pairing: DM/GW

Disclaimer: None of these characters, places, etc. belong to me. I claim no ownership to the characters. No profit is being made off this story.

Summary: Ginny Weasley has a secret…a big one.

Author's Note: This story was originally published on July 14, 2003. Yes, it's that old. Forgive me. :D It was obviously pre-HBP and pre-DH. :D

I am not very fond of secrets.

Since the diary incident during my first year, I have decided that it's best to avoid them all together. They only get me into trouble. If people want to tell me, I let them, but I make no promises about keeping the information to myself. It's not like I go around running my mouth about everything, but if someone asks me, I tell them. I'm in my Sixth Year now.

And I've got another secret.

This one is big. Not You-Know-Who-Is-Controlling-Me big, but I think---I know it could be just as devastating. I promised myself that if someone asks, I'll tell them, but I've denied it on more than one occasion. No one knows exactly what's going on, but they have an idea. They would never guess it right on the nose, and that's why it has to be a secret.

I'm walking back from my last class when I see the three of them crossing the courtyard. Hermione waves, Harry smiles, and my dear mature brother sticks out his tongue at me. Honestly what does Hermione see in him? If she'd grown up in the same house as him, I imagine she'd think differently. And poor Harry, always the third wheel. He's never had a girlfriend, and I think that's because after that disastrous thing with Cho Chang, he started to fancy boys. He's never told me, or anyone, but that's my suspicion. Wouldn't that be quite the scandal?

I wave back at them and keep heading for the Great Hall. I have loads of homework, mostly for Potions. Why did I ever choose N.E.W.T. Potions classes? Snape's a real nightmare, but I am learning a lot from him. Homework will have to wait. I'm starving.
I come around the corner, and that's when I hear it--that high-pitched giggle that makes my skin crawl. Pansy Parkinson. She's standing with two other Slytherin girls, and wouldn't you know, they're right outside the Great Hall. Joy.

Pansy Parkinson is a real bitch. She's made my life hell from the minute I crossed her path. I don't know why. Maybe because I'm a Gryffindor. Maybe because I'm a Weasley. Maybe because I'm a girl. Who knows. I try like hell to avoid her, but somehow, we always cross paths. Fate's sick joke. If she somehow makes it to Heaven, she'll probably trip me on the way in.

I briefly consider walking past and coming back later for dinner. Oh, too late. She's already seen me. This ought to be fun and traumatic in a way I won't realize until I'm much older and have a nervous breakdown when I try to plant pansies in my garden.

"Hey, Ginny," she purrs, the sarcasm pooling in her mouth ready to dribble out. "Nice job in Potions today. I've never seen a cauldron completely melt before."

And I've never seen hair so completely covered with split ends. I bite my tongue. "Yeah, I had some trouble."

"Trouble isn't the word for what you have," she sneers. "I don't think they even have a word for it." The girls around her snicker and giggle, all of them watching for my reaction.

"Yeah, well they have one for what you have, Parkinson," a familiar voice says from behind me. "It's called a stick up your ass."

Ron. I grit my teeth, but take small satisfaction in the way Pansy's eyes go wide. Ron steps up beside me, glaring at the Slytherins. "Don't you three have something to pluck or shave or something?"

The three girls melodramatically put their noses in the air and spin on their heels, marching away from us. Ron laughs under his breath, and I have the urge to smack him. "They're hags."

"Hags that I can deal with by myself," I mutter.

"Geez, Gin," he snaps, turning toward me. "I was just trying to help."

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yeah, and if you never let me take are of myself, they are always going to bother me."

Ron shakes his head. "Fine. But you know, Gin, you're really becoming a bitch these days. Whatever is going on with you is really starting to show."

There it is again. He stomps off but I don't care. Whatever is going on... Oh, Ron, if you only knew. I'm not even hungry anymore. Damn him. Damn him to Hell.

"Big brother always to the rescue, hmmmm, Weaselette?"

No, I was wrong. Damn him.

I swing around and there he stands, his Royal Platinum Slytherin Highness. Draco Malfoy.

Soddin' bastard.

"Bugger off, Malfoy." I try to walk past him, but he just steps with me.

He clicks his tongue. "Heard that one before. You need to get your own lines, and stop stealing your brother's. They aren't that good."

"Leave me alone," I growl, but I know he won't. We're almost to the point where the corridor splits, and if there's nobody in the hall, I'm in trouble. Suddenly, I wish I hadn't pissed off my brother. I can deal with the Slytherin Bitches myself, but Malfoy is another story. He's suspiciously Crabbe and Goyle-free which makes me more nervous.

"Not a chance," he drawls back at me. The way he talks has always driven me crazy. I wish he'd just bloody spit it out sometimes.

We're rounding the corner now, and I subconsciously hold my breath. Please let there be someone. Anyone. Pleasepleaseplease.

I breathe again. There, at the end of the hall and coming closer rapidly, is Harry. Draco sees him and groans under his breath. "Great..."

"Get the hell away from her, Malfoy," he snarls, stopping just in front of us, his hand moving toward his wand.

Draco smirks but steps back casually. "Settle down, Potter. Don't get your knickers in a twist. We were only talking."

Harry's eyes narrow. "Well, talk to someone else. Now."

Draco puts his hands up and keeps backing way, his eyes locked on Harry. The look he's giving him is really strange, and he sort of smiles crookedly before he looks at me. "Another time, Weaselette."

Harry and I watch him until he's disappeared up the corridor. "He didn't hurt you--"

"No," I answer quickly. "Just running his mouth, as usual." I smile at him. "Thanks, Harry."

He grins, his cheeks flushing. "No problem, Gin. Just try to stay out of his way. I know you can handle the queen Slyth Bitch, but Malfoy..."

"Got it, Harry," I reply, wanting very badly to get to my room. "Thanks again."

"Night, Gin." He wanders away up the hall, and I turn toward Gryffindor Tower.

And run right into Draco.

"It's not that easy to get rid of me, Gin," he drawls in a low voice.

The broom cupboard. Oh, Merlin, how could I have forgotten? The door flies opens, and I don't even have time to wonder how before he shoves me inside. I hate small places. It's so small, and then he steps inside and it's smaller. I open my mouth to scream.

His hand covers my mouth before I can make a sound, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. "None of that. Someone might hear." He mutters "Lumos", and the cupboard lights up, illuminating his features.

It occurs to me to bite his hand or to scream anyway. Something in his eyes tells me not to, and he pulls his hand away from my face slowly. "Honestly, Gin, how are we supposed to get a moment alone if we keep getting interrupted?"

"Malfoy..."

"Shhhh," he whispers. "You've got a mouth for only one reason, and talking isn't it."

My cheeks burn at his words. I start to struggle, but he pushes his weight against me, pinning me to the wall. He chuckles, a sound that only enrages me further. "Why, Ginny Weasley...you're all flushed. Like what you're hearing?"

His hand is cold as it touches my bare thigh just above my knee sock and moves up slowly. "Malf-foy...when I tell my brother and Harry..."

His fingers touch the lace of my panties, the ones I keep hidden from Mum, and inexplicably, they're damp when his fingers brush across the front. I suck in my breath and tremble--even though I try with all my might not to--I tremble and a small sigh escapes me. That same smile crawls across his face.

"You're not going to tell them anything, now are you?"

Soddin' bastard.

Soddin' fucking bastard.

"No."

His fingers push aside the soaked material, and this time a moan breaks free, and I lean against him, my hips involuntarily turning outward. He groans, and I feel a dull prodding against my stomach. My hand moves between us, and he curses under his breath when my hand touches the bulge at the front of his slacks. My eyes flutter shut as he nudges the tiny nub that makes my knees wobble.

"I didn't think so," he half moans, half whispers hotly against my ear. "Our little secret..."

Oh, I'd say it's not so little.

It has to be a secret. No one can know the things Draco does to me or the things I do to him. Ron would never forgive me, Hermione would never understand, and Harry...I can't even think about that. Honestly, I don't think I can forgive myself, and I surely don't understand it.

It was never supposed to happen. I think it's against the laws of nature that it did. I'm not going to say I didn't know what was happening because I knew exactly what I was doing. It was Halloween. The Sixth and Seventh Years can spend it in Hogsmede, and a huge group of us were at The Three Broomsticks. One too many drinks I shouldn't have had in the first place, an opportune moment when my brother wasn't around, and the next thing I know, Little Ginny Weasley was bent over the sink in the boys' bathroom.

The worst part about it was not that Draco Malfoy was shagging me. It was the knowing and almost victorious look I saw in his eye in the mirror as it was happening. I felt sick after it was over because I knew, deep down, that he had wanted it--not wanting me, just what I could do for, and to, him.

After that, it just kept happening, anywhere and anytime we could slip away from our respective entourages. We were always rushed, always wondering if someone was going to catch us. I hated myself more every time I'd have to straighten my robes after sneaking out of empty classrooms or out from behind bushes. But I never put a stop to it.

Draco makes me feel dirty, but dirty in that fluttery stomach, pulsing with lust way. With him, I'm not Little Ginny Weasley, forever innocent and pure. He was the first person to realize that while I've been hidden in my brothers' shadows, I've become a woman. I've got desires, needs, hormones--I've got tits for Merlin's sake! No one seemed to notice until Draco have me that first heated look. After that, I was hooked--literally addicted.

Now, it's just too much for me. I am acting differently. They all suspect something. It's only a matter of time before they find out the truth, and if they do...I'm not sure what will happen. It goes beyond just the fact that he's Slytherin and I'm Gryffindor, or that my friends and family hate him and his family. I know what he is, and what he will soon become. I put myself and everyone I love in danger by associating with him. He's manipulative, conniving, and probably a little evil--I know all of this.

But I don't seem to care.

I've been trying to end it. I just haven't told him yet. I've done everything I can to stay away from him, but he just keeps catching me when no one is around and...

This last time was too close. Harry wasn't even up the hall yet. I think the thrill of getting caught helps him get off. I guess that's true for me, too, only I seem to be the only one who realizes what will happen if we do get caught. Draco has nothing to fear--that's his main strength, and his main weakness. He'll risk the wrath of his father, but the elder Malfoy will probably see it as good strategy. I'm the only one with anything to lose.

I'm already coming down by the time he finishes, letting all of his weight rest heavily on me where I'm leaning chest-first against the wall of the cupboard. He puts his head against my shoulder and exhales with a low laugh. "Now, see...that wasn't so bad, was it?"

I smile weakly over my shoulder. "Never is."

"Then why the offended virgin routine?" Draco has this way of asking things point blank, and really, it's rather intimidating.

"Draco...I just..." Oh, yes, this sounds convincing. "I don't think--"

"That's right," he cuts me off, putting his weight against me for emphasis. "You don't think, Ginny, and that's what I fancy about you. You don't waste time by over-analyzing petty details. You just feel, and you do, and you fuck with a passion."

Here it comes. I know what he's going to say because he always says it. Every time we have a tumble in the hay (or the broom cupboard as it is now) he says the same thing just before he gets the hell out. I think he knows I'm going to tell him I want it to stop, so he cuts me off before I have a chance to say it. Right now, I'm sick with waiting to hear the words I know are coming.

"But honestly, Gin, you're not my kind of girl," he whispers, punctuating his tagline with the sound of his zipper. My stomach flip-flips as I hear the door open, then he's gone, and I'm alone in an empty closet, cum running down my legs and tears running over my cheeks.

Soddin' bastard.

It's a half hour before I can pull myself out of the cupboard. I have a good cry because I think I'm entitled to it, and then I check the hall for anyone before bolting to the stairs. Once I'm outside Gryffindor Tower, I walk right past the Fat Lady and go into the bathroom, throwing my book bag on the floor. I run the shower as hot as I can stand then strip out of my clothes and stand under the spray. The tears and what's left of Draco wash down the drain, and I feel better.

Not my kind of girl.

I swear his logic is so screwed up. His kind of girl is pretty, dumb, and willing to do whatever he wants. So, why doesn't he find someone like that and leave me the hell alone? I'm sure that idiot Parkinson would bend over for him. She's practically gagging for it. Wouldn't it kill her to know he's shagging me instead of her?

I think he's incapable of a normal relationship. For a while when it first started, I thought of myself as his secret girlfriend. I was only kidding myself. To put it crudely, I'm his fuck-buddy. To put it mildly, I'm convenient. I'm the one who has never turned him down, and I come with the bonus of being dangerous and forbidden. I'm every schoolboy's dream--someone to shag, no strings attached.

The water runs cold before I realize how long I've been in the shower, so I shut it off quickly. Honestly, I go to a wizarding school. You'd think they'd find some way to have unlimited hot water. I'm pulling my uniform back on when I hear the door creak open, and I look up to see who it is.

Great.

Hermione blinks at me, looking confused. "Gin? What are you doing?"

"Taking a shower," I answer coolly, wringing the water out of my hair.

"Why weren't you at dinner?" she asks, going into one of the stalls. She doesn't bother to shut the door. She just stares at me, leaning forward on her thighs as she has a pee. Oh, the perks of familiarity.

"I wasn't hungry," I reply, wishing I had thought to bring a towel. I hate wet hair hanging down my back.

"Oh," is all she says to that. I turn away as she takes care of her business, and when I turn back, she's straightening her skirt. "You're not still cross with Ron, are you? He was only trying to help."

Anger flares inside me. "I don't need help. I'm a big girl. I can deal with the Slyth Bitch and her lapdogs myself!"

She blinks a little, as surprised at my outburst as I am. "Ginny, what is going on with you these days?"

I can't even look at her. "It's none of your business."

"It is my business," she fires back sharply. "You're my friend. If you're in trouble, or you need some help--"

I whirl on her. "Why do you and Ron and Harry always think you can fix everything!?! You can't fix me! I'm not some little save-the-world adventure that you can just wrap up in a nice neat package and get a pat on the head for fixing! So just leave me the hell alone, would you!?!"

I'm storming out before I know what I'm doing, leaving my book bag and robes on the floor. I stalk up the hall, heading for the stairs, and subconsciously, I think where I'm going and who I'm going to look for. They're always trying to be saviors, the three of them. If it's not the school or the world, they try to save their poor pathetic friends and poor little Ginny. They ask what's wrong, but do they really care? And could they even begin to understand?

I get to the Great Hall, and I don't even have to search for him. He somehow manages to stand out from everyone else, and almost immediately, his eyes fall on me. There's only a hint of a smile on his face, but I know he's looking at me. I smile back, and I'll be damned if his jaw almost drops as I mouth the words "Prefect's Bathroom" to him. Anyone could see me and who I am looking at, but I don't care.

I don't bloody fucking care.

Draco is Head Boy this year, and almost poetic foil to Hermione, who is Head Girl. As if that means anything. All it means is that he's got a key to the 4th floor Prefect's Bathroom, and no one will catch us.

I've only been waiting a few minutes before he comes around the corner, and vaguely, I wish my hair were dry and combed. He doesn't seem to care because he already has the key out, a lascivious grin on his face. He opens the door without a word to me, and warm, perfumed air rushes out to greet us. Draco locks the door behind me, and turns to me with a grin. "Up for another go alread--"

He stops with a yelp as I push him back against the wall. "Ginny, what the hell..."

I put a finger to his lips, the confused and slightly apprehensive look in his grey eyes sending a chill through me. "You've got a mouth for one reason, and talking isn't it. Now get to it."

Realization replaces the apprehension when I spread my stance wider. He grins a touch wickedly and drops to his knees in front of me. I close my eyes, and a second later, I feel him sliding my panties down over my thighs. They fall to my ankles, and his tongue is on me. I grasp his shoulders for balance, one hand taking a fistful of his hair He groans, and when his tongue delves deeper, I let out a moan in response.

They don't know what's going on with me, but it doesn't matter. This is my victory--over Draco who doesn't realize it, over my brother who would never understand it, over Hermione who would never guess it--all of them.

And I enjoy every minute of it.

I don't return the favor when Draco is finished. Once I can see straight again--because the boy does have talent in that area if nothing else--I just hike up my knickers, pat his cheek, and stroll out of there. The next day, as I'm going to Transfiguration, I pass him in the hall with Dumb and Dumber, and he shoots me a deadly look. I'm guessing he didn't appreciate being left high and dry. I scurry past him quickly before anyone notices.

The glory of my mini-rebellion has worn off quickly. The hungry look in his eye makes me sick to my stomach, and I spend most of Transfiguration trying to figure out what possessed me. I remember when I pass the Trio. Ron glares at me, Hermione won't even look my way, and Harry gives me a sympathetic smile. Sweet Harry. I can't ever be cross with him. It's so much easier to take it out on my brother and Hermione. They walk past me without a word, which is what I expected.

Thankfully, I don't have to look at any of them during Potions. They all have it the period before mine, but when I get there, I see folded piece of paper on my desk with my name on the outside. I already know who it's from.

Ginny,

Astronomy Tower. 9 o'clock.

D

So romantic. I hate the Astronomy Tower. People go there to do one thing. Draco and I have done that one thing many times there. There's the biggest chance of getting caught, and I think that's why he picks that place.

I can barely pay attention in Potions after that, and Snape definitely notices because he keeps calling on me to answer questions even though my hand isn't up and everyone else's is. I wonder what he would think of Draco and me. He'd probably fall down dead from a heart attack. That's almost incentive enough to scream it to the hills.

What would happen if I told? Hermione and Harry would never speak to me again, my parents would disown me, I'd be an outcast from the Gryffindors, and Lucius would probably descend Mt. Malfoy to come and curse me personally. And they want to know what's going on? If only it was that easy.

Potions seems to go on forever, but when the bell finally rings, I bolt past Snape before he can make any comment and head directly for Gryffindor Tower. There's no one in the room when I get there, so I jump into my bed and pull the curtains tightly around it. I need time to think.

I have to tell Draco it's over tonight. I have to--there are no other options. I'm alienating my friends and my brother, and I think I'm going slightly mad from it all. I can't stand to have his eyes on me. I can't stand that possessive way he says my name. I can't stand Hermione and Harry looking at me like I've grown a second head. Most of all, I can't stand how one minute, I'm panting like a bitch in heat with wanting him, and the next, I'm struggling to keep my breakfast down. I can't stand any of it anymore.

I will tell him. I will end it. I will stand my ground.

I will not crumble.

Will I?

It's a quarter to nine, and I'm already waiting. I wonder why it's so easy for us to sneak in here at night. Surely the staff knows what goes on up here. You'd think they'd put a stop to it.

That's what I'm doing. I'm putting a stop to it. To save my sanity, and probably my soul, I am putting an end to it. Keep telling yourself that, Gin. Maybe it will sink in before he gets here.

Or maybe not.

I see his blond head appear at the top of the tower, and my breath catches in my throat. Don't chicken out now, girl. This is it. He grins when he sees me. "Already here? My aren't we eager..."

His hands go to his belt, and for a moment, I can't move or speak. It's the sound of his zipper that snaps me out of it.

"It's over, Draco."

He blinks, going still. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's over. This is over."

Here comes the Malfoy charm. I'm ready for it. His smile returns, that smooth, smug I-Can-Have-Whatever-I-Want smile. "You've got to be kidding..."

"I'm dead serious." I realize with some degree of horror that I've backed myself against he wall, right in front of the window.

This time he laughs as he nonchalantly zips his pants back up and fastens them. "Nothing is over until I say it's over, Gin."

He's stepping toward me, and I fight with myself not to step back toward the window. "Draco..."

"Gin..." he echoes in a mocking tone. "You think it's that easy? You just decide it's over and that makes it so?"

I can't stop myself. I back away as he gets closer until my back is against the wall. Any further and I'll be out the window. Part of me thinks that's what he wants. "Draco, I...I..."

"You what!?!" he snarls, moving forward so quickly that it catches me off guard. "You can't do this anymore? You don't want to hide from your friends or your brother anymore? You don't want me to fuck you anymore?" His sneer deepens. "I know that's not true because you moan like a good little whore every single time."

Whore.

"That's what you are, you know," he drawls on, not noticing how my expression has gone slack. "You're not my girlfriend, Gin. You're just my whore. My sweet..." he pauses, and I feel his hand under my skirt, "...little..." he slides his fingers between my thighs, "...Gryffindor whore..."

There's a bitter taste in my mouth as the tears well up in my eyes. No, dammit! Do not cry. Don't give him that.

He grins maniacally at the sight of my would-be tears. "Give me a hand job, Gin. As a going away present. They're always better when the bitch is crying."

My stomach lurches as the first sob breaks free, and he growls, his fist suddenly locked around my throat. "Do it, or I swear I'll throw your ass out this window. I doubt anyone would miss you. There are plenty of Weasleys to go around."

He squeezes to emphasize his point, and my head swims. I think I might pass out. Somehow, I manage to find the zipper on his slacks. He has my head tilted up toward the ceiling. I'm glad I don't have to look into his eyes. It doesn't really matter. I can picture them perfectly--cold, empty, lifeless--his father's eyes. I suddenly, and inexplicably--feel sorry for Draco's mother.

He must see me zoning out because he squeezes my throat harder. I gasp once or twice but manage labored breaths as I feel my way into his slacks and through the slit in his boxer shorts. He groans when my cold, shaky fingers meet hot, velvet skin. This violent dominance thing really gets him going. He's rock hard in my hand, and I struggle to drag my fist upward toward the head. He doesn't notice this as I feel his grip loosen on my neck. Air comes rushing into my lungs, and the haziness fades from the edges of my vision. He's groaning, rubbing up against me until I'm hanging nearly halfway out the window, and I think I might be sick.

"Such a good little slut," he whispers, licking his lips with his pink tongue. "Shame to see you go, Gin. We've been so good together..."

Except we haven't been together. We've just been fucking. Hardly saying a word except 'more' or 'harder'. Have we ever even kissed? Has it been anything except constant fucking since the first time you tugged my panties so hard that they ripped at the seams?

"You aren't going to find anyone who can do you like I do." His words are breathy, frantic, and I know it will be over soon. Part of me wonders if he will leave or if he'll press for more. He's stronger than me, a Seeker's toned but muscular body. I wouldn't have time to get away.

He whimpers. I know that sound. His lower lip is pulled into his mouth, and his pearl white teeth sink down into it. I feel his entire body tense, and he sucks in his breath before I feel the warm, thick fluid on my fingers. His eyes open and that smile returns. I wonder if he'll make me clean him, but he zips himself up despite the mess.

"Well, Gin, I guess this is goodbye."

The slap comes unexpectedly, and I yelp, the resonating thunder of it bouncing inside my skull. The world flips on its side momentarily, and my knees smack the hard stone floor beneath me. Draco sneers down at me. "Right where you belong, you stupid pathetic bitch. And if you think this is where it ends, you're wrong. Your friends and your family deserve to know just exactly what's been going on, don't they?"

Oh, Merlin. No. Please no.

"And I think I'm the perfect person to fill them in about all of it." His sneer is deeper, his eyes narrowing. "You think that I'd let you off without a hitch? That you could just walk away from me without repercussions? I'm a Malfoy, goddammit. Nobody walks away from me!"

He bends down and his fingers dig into my jaw as he holds my face and forces me to look up into his eyes. "Hold on, baby. You're about to have the ride of your life, right down to rock bottom. If it's possible for you to sink any lower. See you 'round."

He turns and walks to the hatch, climbing gracefully down the ladder. My cheek is already tender to the touch. I'm going to have a bruise. There are going to be questions, endless questions. This time when the tears come, I don't fight them. I sit on the cold stone floor and cry. I cry because it's all I can do. I broke it off, but it won't do any good. He'll ruin me. I broke it off to keep them all from finding out, and now they're going to find out anyway. I should have known. You can't beat the Malfoys. Why even try? Why even fucking try?

"Ginny?"

My eyes close, tears still slipping from beneath them. It's Harry. Of all the people to find me, it has to be Harry. It doesn't mater why he's here, I suppose. But he's here, and he's seen me, rumpled and tear-stained, and I can already hear the questions.

"Ginny, what's the matter? What are you doing up here?"

And after the questions, the disbelief and betrayal will follow, then the anger and mistrust. It will snowball from there until there's nothing left of my life. All of it gone because of one boy. One stupid fucking boy.

"Gin?"

Harry is beside me now, one of his arms around my shoulders. I look at him finally, and I can see the genuine concern in his eyes. "Ginny, what's wrong? What happened to your face?"

I need to tell someone. I need someone to hear it before Draco tells everyone. Harry needs to hear it from me. "I got hit, Harry. I got smacked in the face, and it finally knocked some sense into me."

Harry blinks, and I can see the anger beneath his worry. "Who it you?"

"It got so out of hand, Harry." The words are coming now in a flood, and I can feel myself crying before I feel the tears. "I thought I could control it, and that was my mistake. You can't control these things, and you can't control him."

"Him? Him who?"

"And I know it was wrong. I knew it from the beginning, and I didn't care. I didn't care, Harry. It was secret, and it was dangerous, and I wasn't Little Ginny Weasley anymore. I know I shouldn't have been doing it, and I did it anyway. It just kept happening, and I didn't stop it. Then you all suspected something, and I had to lie because you couldn't find out. I had to lie to my friends and to Ron, and now I hate myself. I hate myself, Harry. I came to break it off tonight. He got mad...he was just so mad, Harry. And he told me he was going to tell everyone. He's going to tell everyone about it, and you'll all know that I'm a whore. And he hit me."

"Ginny, who did this to you?" Harry asks, shaking my shoulders gently.

"He's going to tell, Harry. Everyone is going to know--"

"GINNY!" Harry shouts. "Who is it?"

I can't even look at him.

"Draco Malfoy. For the last three months, I've been fucking Draco Malfoy."

He makes a noise of surprise. Here it comes.

"But...but..."

Just say it, Harry. Say something. Anything.

"Draco is my boyfriend."

Well, that's something.

--FIN--

Soundtrack
"Not Your Girl"--Bree Sharp
"I'm With You"--Avril Lavigne
"The Look"--Roxette
"Going Under"-Evanescence
"Voodoo"--Godsmack
"Black"--Pearl Jam
"Lucky"--Bif Naked