Chasing the sea

I never knew love until the fall of my 16th birthday.

I was a good girl, simple and sweet, with naught a thought to anything beyond my transfiguration homework. Boys had never given me a second look, mostly because i was largely thought of as having too much excess baggage for my own good. In my first year, i suffered the bad luck of an encounter with Tom Riddle, the memory of Voldemort's younger self.

Bad luck is what some would call it. A travesty of manipulation is how i remembered it. But the difference is barely distinguishable to me any longer.

As for Tom......

What i felt for Tom was nothing.

Without even an inkling of the scheme i was being drawn into, i unwittingly was abused by my closest confidant. My only true 'friend'. It was the darkest point in my life, and inadvertently, my family were ignorant of my situation. It hurt. That, I won't deny, but I understand now that the power that evil holds over me is one brought upon by ignorance. If nothing else, that is my one fault for being the pawn to the Chamber of Secrets.

Aptly named as it was, the chamber revealed things about myself that not even I was aware of. I learned to hate. I learned Mistrust and the true meaning of deceit. I learned that I was a Parselmouth.

Of course, Never, ever, have I used that skill. Not since all the damage it inflicted on the people i care about most. Or rather, thought I cared about.

What I felt for Harry was not love, rather idolization.

Once I came into the understanding that Harry was not the knight in shining armor that i made him out to be, I accepted that he was only human as well. Not The Boy Who Lived, but the Boy who wanted to live. He was not a willing hero. He was born with greatness thrust upon him.

I, on the other hand, was not.

My writing had always been a release for me. Naturally that is one of the aspects that drew me to Riddle's diary. I Have been writing since, although not in a book of pure evil.

Its Ironic.

Since my first year, I've never been able to express myself to the same extent, with the same trust.

It hurts not to trust.

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I scratched away at the worn pages of my journal. The insignificant troubles of a young girl etched themselves in slanting spidery ink across the page. My fingers flew across the parchment, interrupted only momentarily by my occasional urge to nibble frantically on the tip of the sweet sugar quill.

The words could be described as nothing short of poetic.

Across the ages, I have refused to fall. lest you know I deny who I truly am. The one who I am Is not for your eyes, So long as the fight I stand for remains.

I chase the sea to the ends of the world. Should fate neglect to bring love to me.

I fight the call, deny taste of the air, I hate the person you make yourself see.

Your lies on a string are bound to my soul, you can't know that this is meant to be.

I feel the call, The life i denied, Just as I deny that I'm chasing the sea.

Nothing special. Just another poem.

Chasing the sea.... Its an impossibility.

But I liked it.

Sometimes I never understand what I write, like today. It just flows off the paper before i even have a chance to think it over. Most of it is crap.

This one's ok.

I guess its better than ok.

It reminded me of a dream i once had. Too bad all the boys are scared of me. Too bad Im a little scared of myself. Its pretty ironic how im supposed to be the sweet one. The secure one.

No.

I AM the sweet, secure one. That's who I am.

Who everyone wants me to be.

Virginia Weasley.

Too bad I don't know If That's who I want to be anymore.

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The days At Hogwarts grew colder, Ginny Weasley grew older with the passing of another birthday.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione tried, largely unsuccessfully to replicate a cake for her with magic. They ended up making a trip down to the kitchens to enlist the incredibly convenient help of the house-elves. Overall, it was a wonderful night. She got a nice book on musical charms from Hermione, some Bertie Botts and Fillibusters from Harry, but the most extravagant of all, a beautiful silk and lace white gown that suited her utterly (a collective effort) from all the Weasley brothers.

Near midnight, the others retreated to their common rooms for the night, leaving Ginny to her own devices in the Gryffindor common room. The soft moonlight poring through the windows was a perfect backdrop to the cool autumn night on the grounds and it would have been an injustice to leave it unexplored for the comfort of her dorm. Ginny tucked her flaming hair into a band away from her face and donned her cloak before stepping into the deserted stone corridors of the tower.

Her footsteps echoed off the stone walls, stirring some of the portraits suspended in the quiet night. She managed to avoid any encounters with poor Mrs. Norris, whom everyone despised so much. Upon reaching the entrance hall, Ginny pulled apart the massive oak doors enough to slip out into the grounds and slipped out without a sound.

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The grounds presented such a serene landscape that Ginny forgot to breathe. Never had she felt truly at home in Hogwarts but one could not help but do so with an atmosphere such as the one before her.

The wide green expanse of rolling field was ended by a mire of soft fir trees that brushed their evergreen tips with the dark moonlit skies. The glassy still surface of the lake was unbroken and reflected a perfect image of the soft silver moon suspended in the shadowdust sky.

Calm blue light reached everything within sight, blessing it with a tranquil quality. Not a sound marred the lonely perfection Ginny was granted on her moonlit excursion. Her soft footfalls hinted of the childlike awe she couldn't help but feel for her home away from home.

She had never known.......

Atop one of the hills rested a single gargantuan tree stump. Ginny had often watched Hagrid use it as a wood-chopping block, but it seemed a much more fitting seat for this show brought to her of nature. She settled down into it and gazed, mesmerized, at the grounds before her. Ginny's Young mind wandered into the dream that such a setting is bound to inspire, dreams that are perceived only by the dreamer.

So distracted, was Ginny, that she failed to spot the soft-platinum hair, the catlike stance, of the boy who appeared to the side of her vantage point on the hill.

She failed to recognize the silver-grey eyes.

"Weaslette."

Malfoy.

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Draco Malfoy.

The Son of a Deatheater, The Slytherin, Harry's School rival.

The Asshole.

Uncanny, it was, how he always showed up just in time to harass Ginny before she grew too enchanted with life. Bastard........

"Go away Malfoy." Ginny spat. "I never requested your divine company."

"You said it, Not me." Draco retorted. "Glad to see one of the weasels hasn't failed to appreciate greatness."

Ginny snorted.

"Although," He went on "Not entirely unexpected since the Chamber of Secrets was opened with your help. You are the one who has the tendency to be compliant."

"Shutup Malfoy." Ginny growled.

"Sorry, little weasel, you'll have to speak up." He laughed "Unless you need Potter to watch your ass."

"He's My friend Malfoy. Don't talk about things you can't comprehend."

"Your friend, is he? Just like dear old Riddle was your friend? You sure know how to pick 'em Weaslette!"

With a strangled cry, Ginny jumped to her feet and closed the distance between them before Malfoy could react. The slap she planted across his jawline snapped his head to the side and left her hand stinging.

"Why you little...!" Malfoy cried as he struck out to grab her hand. His fingers closed around her small fist like a steel vice and he seethed with the shock of the sudden onslaught. She kicked out at him and yelled curses in his face but he pinned her arms to her sides and held her at arms length. "I wouldn't hit if i were y......."

Draco Malfoy cut his words off as his breath caught in his throat. Ginny's face was screwed into an expression of pure agony. Tears streamed down her freckled cheeks and her hair clung to her head like a halo of flame. Her shuddering sobs wracked her small form in Draco's hands and she struggled to force words out.

"I HATE YOU!!" She screamed "I HATE you..I hate.........You...you don't even KNOW!! Get off me. GET OFF ME!"

She fought to break free of his grip and he let go, allowing her legs to crumple beneath her. Ginny fell into a shuddering, moaning heap on the ground before him, pounding the earth at his feet and tearing out handfuls of grass.

"He never knew......" She mumbled between dry sobs. "He took all of it! I HATE HIM!! Hes the one who did this to me.....you don't even know.........."

Draco was shocked at the reaction his remark produced and stared down at the quivering girl at his feet. She was crying still, and yelling bits of words. He couldn't make sense of any of them and he couldn't leave her here in this sorry state, so he spoke:

"Er........Ginny?" The name was unfamiliar on his tongue. "Ginny, you need to come with me back to the school." His soothing tone did little to calm the frantic girl.

"..go away........... I don't want you here." She rasped out in a harsh whisper, then in a more abrupt tone, "FUCK OFF MALFOY!"

Even for someone like Draco, whose life had been based upon his ability to remain distant, the words had a scarring effect. He had done this to her. Something he said made her break down to the point that it disturbed him.

When he was 9, Draco was brought down to the kitchens to observe and partake in Lucius Malfoy's 'discipline' of a house elf. Things like that were the norm in Malfoy Manor, so such a thing should not have erred him in the least.

But it did.

He awkwardly placed himself on the ground in front of her and took her shoulders into his hands. His only thanks was a whimper and more bitter sobs to accompany her shivering. Jerkily, He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her head into his shoulder. She cried out but he shushed her and slowly, embraced Ginny in his arms.

"Sorry." He muttered. "Didn't mean for this to happen."

This produced no result so he went on:

"I guess I'm just not used to working with people, that's all. Must be one of the side effects of being the resident Slytherin bastard." He laughed bitterly. " I thought you wouldn't mind. You usually don't.....wouldn't have said that if i knew."

Ginny's sobbing was decreasing as he spoke.

"I know that er........ He.... does some terrible things to people (and families, he thought) but i guess......ah......you just can't let it...or, me....... get to you."

Ginny had stopped sobbing and was looking up into Malfoy's face.

"What," She hissed "are you doing?! You hate me! You don't know a thing about what you said! How can you sit here and try to advise me on what I should and should not feel!!" She pulled away from him and wrapped her cloak tighter around her bare arms.

Draco glared at nothing in particular and uttered something about being ungrateful

"I can't believe you would claim to know anything about what I've been through!" She continued with more than a touch of incredulity on her voice. "You could never know! I have never trusted anyone completely since!"

"That's where you're wrong, Weaslette. I know more mistrust than is right for anyone. At least you know your family has good intentions. Never, have i ever told anyone this, but im nothing more than a gift to Voldemort from my father."

Ginny was silent.

"Mabye If he produces an heir to his dark lords legacy, he'll gain favor." Draco spat "Not that it matters to him what happens to me. Family honor my ass! Im nothing but a polished apple to evil."

"Sorry Malfoy......... I , I guess you know more than i thought. As a matter of fact, you may be the only one who understands at all."

There was a very pregnant pause.

"Right."

"Right..... I guess we'd best be going up to the castle then."

"Not just yet.....Ginny." The name was still awkward "I think you may be able to help me figure something out."

"And why should I?"

"Because, I'll return the favor."

That was an offer that breached far beyond interesting any day.

"What are you talking about Malfoy?"

"All i want to do, is talk."

"Talk? Just have a conversation?"

"No. I want to talk about Volde.......Riddle."

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And we did.

Malfoy tried to avoid bringing up anything particularity painful with me but the truth is, I wanted him to. I could care less, right? Hes just Malfoy.

Or at least that's what I thought when we started.

The arrangement was that we could have a no-torment conversation about what that bastard had done to us. He told me about his childhood, the Malfoy Manor, His mother Narcissa, who was spending a term at St. Mungo's for treatment, and his fate to be a high ranking death eater. I, in turn told him about being overshadowed by six older brothers, the chamber of secrets, Riddle, and how he took my trust with him when he was defeated.

Draco, it seemed, had never supported Voldemort. He did what Lucius expected of him, he liked to stir up mischief, and he did hate Harry for getting away with everything, unscathed and shining. But not once had he ever considered joining The dark order That Voldemort commanded. Mostly, he admitted, because he couldn't stand being dictated to and holding no true power over even his own actions.

On his 12th birthday, his father cut Draco's wrists until he was almost dead from blood loss. The blood, he said, was used to help Voldemort regain strength during my second year (his 3rd) He had always know that he would be given to Voldemort as an offering. Possibly, to join the inner ranks of death eaters, or possibly, as a sacrifice to prove Lucius' loyalty to his dark master.

I, in turn confessed that i was unwittingly part of the plot that brought Riddle's memory to form. All Draco had known previously was that i was the girl chosen to help Voldemort and be taken into the chamber, which was odd, because of my pureblood heritage.

For the first time since it had happened, i was candidly confessing all that i had lost to Riddle in my first year at Hogwarts. I was different than all the others, because i never looked upon the great stone castle as my home. It was an alien place that destroyed a part of me forever. Now, Draco Malfoy of all people, knew it all.

As I was relating my half of the bargain, I watched Draco's eyes. They were silver and grey, and almost as deep as the sea. A lot like him in a sense. Guarded, cold, shadowed and quiet.

For the first time in my life, I looked into the eyes of someone who truly understood me.

For the first time in my life, I looked into the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

And i trusted him.

I think I just started to chase the sea.

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~Mags~

Ill write a Sequel if i get more than 7 reviews requesting one.

Thanx peeps. This is dedicated to Amie (wonton), Linds (skank pants), Sare (bunnie!) and Kenya (sk8er gurl)