Hello just a quick A/N
so, yes hello this is my first attempt ever at a proper oneshot/fanfic in the Drinny world/writing world in general actually, so please be gentle.
(also keep in mind that I don't have a beta, so if you see any small mistakes, please do let me know:))
Well then, without any further ado
"What the fuck did she think she was doing? Does she enjoy being in their goddamn company?"
Draco stormed through the castle, a stream of profanities trailing behind him, as he headed towards- well, anywhere. He didn't give a rat's arse if anyone saw him right now - he had to see her. He had to shake some sense into her before she got herself killed.
He was having a relatively good day, considering the Carrows hadn't tried to approach him to help them with their little experiment. He had told them he would help, as he had no other choice, but thankfully he's been able to avoid them so far.
He had walked into his common room, looking forward to a nice long soothing bath in his Head Boy bathroom, when he heard her name. He didn't think much of it, as it was common for the Slytherins to bring up her and her family. But as he started climbing up the stairs towards his chambers, he overheard Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle snickering near the fireplace, as Nott related to them what had apparently happened during the detention he had supervised earlier that day.
"-even know how to hold her tongue. Stupid blood-traitor bint kept on answering back to her superiors. She had it coming."
"Did they get her good?" Goyle asked, leaning eagerly towards Nott, his eyes alight with curiosity. Nott laughed coldly, as he patted his friend on the back. A cruel smile appeared on his lips as he straightened in his seat and looked straight at Goyle.
By now, Draco had stopped walking up the stairs, and flattened himself against the stairs, straining to hear Nott's low voice.
"'Good' would be an understatement, my friend. Alecto was so furious, the hexes were just spilling out of her mouth one after the other. Amycus just stood in the back laughing, throwing in a Cruciatus whenever he got the chance. My ears are still ringing from her screams." He paused, and a wondering look took over his features. "I wonder how she'd sound in bed."
Pansy made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, and lightly slapped Nott on his arm.
"Even as a joke that's revolting. I really don't see the appeal."
"You wouldn't. The things I'd do to those freakishly-"
"Don't! I don't want to know," Pansy cut in, lifting up a hand and silencing Nott before he could utter another word. Draco was grateful - if Nott had continued his descriptions of her, Draco wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from chocking the bastard to death.
Nott pulled a face at Pansy, who payed him no mind, and went back to thinking lude thoughts about certain redheaded girls.
"It was long overdue, if you ask me. Lately she's become more and more insolent. That little weasel needs to learn her place. It's about time she learnt what it really meant to be a blood-traitor. Actually, it's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord orders one of us to dispose of her."
At Pansy's mention of the Dark Lord and certain orders, Nott snapped out of his reverie, and a feral smile slowly creeped onto his face. Draco's grip on the stair-railing tightened.
"And if he does, I hope it's me. She owes me."
At that last line, Draco had nearly snapped. He clenched his jaw as he tried to compose himself. It wouldn't do him or her any good if he lost control now. After taking a few deep breaths, he slowly walked back out through the common room entrance, making sure his 'fellow' Slytherins took no notice.
His first thought was to go look for her in the Hospital wing, as he was sure she'd have a fair few scars that would need tending. But once he arrived, Madame Pomfrey told him that no one had visited her today.
Trying to keep calm, Draco turned swiftly away from the nurse, and walked towards the nearest set of stairs. He figured she'd have thought going to the nurse a weakness, and hoped that she simply had gone back to her common room.
But once he had arrived in front of the Gryffindors' "secret" entrance and demanded of the Fat Lady in the portrait to tell him whether she had seen her enter the common room, he was sorely disappointed.
He started to panic.
He rushed through hallways, up and down moving staircases, until he found himself moving through the 5th floor of the castle. He wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling he'd find her in their room.
However, before he could even reach the wall that hid their secret room, he saw her - lying on the floor under a large Arthurian tapestry.
His heartbeat sped as he rushed towards the lone figure slumped on the ground motionless. It nearly stopped when he saw a red mane soiled with blood sticking out from under the old tattered black cloak.
Once he was by her side, all he could hear was her shallow breathing. That reassured him for barely a few second before he realised she was covered in blood – her own blood. His hands fluttered over her, not sure of what to do. He knew he had to do something; if her breathing was any indication, she didn't have long left.
Draco crouched down, slid his arms under her and lifted her up gently and holding her to his frame as if she was the most fragile creature he'd ever come across.
And that's what scared him the most.
Because she wasn't fragile and she wasn't weak, and seeing her this way only made matters worse – for him at least. Her strength was the only thing keeping him going, and if she started to fade, then he wouldn't know what he'd do with himself.
He trudged past a few more tapestries hanging on the wall, walking towards the gloomier parts of the 5th floor, until he reached the far wall. Here, he walked back and forth several times, focusing on what he needed – a bed, healing potions and bandages.
As soon as the door appeared, Draco pushed into the room without even glancing around, shut the door behind him and headed straight towards the bed.
He gently laid her down, making sure her she wasn't lying in an awkward position, and removed the cloak that was covering her only to curse under his breath at what he saw.
He knew she'd have a few bruises and scars here and there, but he wasn't expecting this.
Her shirt was drenched in red and her arms were covered in streaks of blood as it slowly made it's way through her long and slender limbs.
As Draco started feeling panic bubbling up inside him, he tried to switch into his col façade – his emotionless one. He needed to keep a cool and levelled head – he needed to be efficient.
He had quite bit of experience when it came to healing charms – especially after having to live in a house that was so often visited by unpleasant creatures to say the least. He had had to tend to his mother several times, and even his father when his mother was too emotionally unavailable to do anything.
As he started to work on relatively shallow wounds trying to be as gentle as possible, tending to each wound carefully not wanting to cause her any more distress, he felt Ginny slowly coming back to consciousness as her head rolled from side to side.
All of a sudden she started thrashing about, screaming at the top of her lungs. She tried to push Draco away, the look in her eyes unfocused but filled with terror.
"Ginny! Ginny it's me! Draco!"
As soon as she heard his name he saw her whole body sag in relief.
"Dr..Drac…Draco I can't…do..don't leave me.." Her voice sounded weak and vulnerable, and all Draco could do was firmly wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly against his chest.
"I swear I will never leave you."
He could feel her shaking as her sobs racked through her body, one after the other. She clutched onto him tighter, her grip starting to feel painful as her tears soaked through his school shirt.
He couldn't bear seeing her this way. He couldn't stand having to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay when in reality, it was only going to get worse. He knew she was a fighter - he knew that no matter what he'd tell her, she'd still stand up against the Carrows and the Slytherins - but if she continued to fight back so frequently and so early on in this war, she won't last much longer.
He needed her.
He needed to see the fire in her eyes. He needed to see the confidence she had in winning. He needed her assurance that everything wasn't going to go to hell.
He knew his promise to her was as much beneficial to her and it was to him – he couldn't leave if he wanted to.
She was his saviour.
His light in the dark.
His soul.